Oz, faux wizard, designer of the Emerald City, former ruler of Oz, and avid balloonist, was currently performing one of the more trivial duties of his former job- organizing a social event.
A conference, to be exact. Every year for the last ten years, Oz hosted the Grand Annual Conference for Characters (GACC for short), in which characters from all sorts of stories gathered at his house on Earth for conversation, good food, and drinks. This year, however, the wizard was disappointed to find attendance was way down. As far as he knew, there were only eighteen characters besides himself and Glinda attending, and most of them were from the same seven stories who came every year.
The balloonist stiffened and turned, as he heard footsteps enter his study. "Oh, Glinda, it's you. Jesus, you scared me." He mopped his forehead, relieved.
Glinda smiled as she walked further into the room. "I've been working for you for years, Oz, and yet you never seem to remember I'm here."
"Must be the house." Oz said. "Such a big house. I've never seen the use for it all, with just us two here."
"Only fitting for the former ruler of Oz." Glinda said, placing her soft hands on his shoulders.
Oz leaned back with a groan. He had been hunched over his desk planning for far too long. "Glinda, you are too good. Why you ever left the land of Oz for me, I'll never know."
Glinda gently kneaded his back. "I've told you. The Scarecrow couldn't do a thing, and I just...didn't want to watch it all fall apart."
"So you decided you'd rather be my housekeeper?" Oz said, turning his head to smile up at her.
Glinda beamed back coyly. "You know that's not all I came for."
The two held each other's gaze for a moment, and then the wizard turned back to his desk. "So remind me, housekeeper," he murmured, feeling something pop in his back as Glinda continued her ministrations, "who is coming to this infernal conference?"
"The Everdeen sisters from Panem, Thomas Doyle and Felicity Worthington from England, Draco Malfoy and Sirius Black from London, Fenoglio and Mortola from Italy, Eowyn and Gollum from Middle Earth, and the Mad Hatter and the Queen of Hearts from Wonderland." Glinda recited. "Oh yes, and Maximum Ride and her flock of six."
"Six? Weren't there seven members last year? Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, Gazzy, Angel, and Total, right?"
"Yes, but Total left the flock, so he's not attending. He's married now."
"Thank God. I've heard enough dogs' rights remarks to last me a lifetime." The second part of her statement hit him and he twisted around in his seat. "Married? Who does a flying, talking, dog marry?"
"Another dog, Oz. And there's another thing- Fang left the flock too."
"Fang? He the strong, silent one who reeked of movie star? They both left, huh?" Oz snickered, a thought hitting him. "I can just see the poster at the cinema now- silhouettes of a winged boy and dog, walking amid a dramatic landscape into the sunset." He spread his arms wide. "The tagline could be something man's best friend, or maybe something being faithful. Get me a pen and paper, Glinda, I need to write this all down before I forget!"
Glinda, wisely, chose to ignore him. "They still have six members, though. They've been joined by another mutant- a boy named Dylan."
"He a flying human too?" Oz asked. Glinda nodded, and Oz slapped his forehead."Jesus, aren't there enough of those beasts in the world as it is? Rude, the whole lot of them, and last year they ate twice as much as the rest of the guests combined. That reminds me, Glinda, are you willing to take care of the food for the conference, like you did last year?"
"Of course I am, Oz." Glinda replied, pecking him on the cheek. "I'll just go and get started now, all right?" She sashayed out of the room, leaving the wizard gazing after her swinging hips.
We reached Oz's Earth mansion at about half past five, thirty minutes before the party was supposed to start. Despite this, the large, Victorian-style mansion was lit up like a Jack-o-lantern, and small crowd had gathered on the lawn by the elegantly carved double doors. I scanned them quickly as our feet grazed the lawn. It was silly, yes, but I had hoped there would be a certain person among them tonight. A certain winged person...
"I'll try to sense his mind once we're inside." Angel reassured me, taking my hand. I forced a smile. It had been nine months since Fang left, and, while I was able to keep living my life (mostly) the way it had always been, I still looked for his dark figure wherever I went. It was the main reason I came to this party. I didn't like Oz, that was for sure. He was too stuffy for my tastes.
As soon as I thought it, the man himself came striding across the lawn towards us with one arm outstretched, wearing a smile as false as his powers. On his other arm was Glinda, his housekeeper/possible squeeze. I could never figure out what was up with those two, but whatever it was, it was gross.
As Oz drew closer, I pasted another fake smile on my face and prepared for a tedious conversation about nothing but pleasantries. This was going to be a long party.
Thomas Doyle grumbled under his breath as he watched Felicity Worthington. She had been walking way ahead of him for the past five minutes of their journey to Oz's Earth mansion, without bothering to see if he was following.
"Irritating woman. Far too bold." he muttered. Still Felicity didn't look back, her blond hair swinging and flashing in the mottled sunlight streaming down through the trees. Why did Oz have to live in a clearing in the middle of the woods, anyways? Why couldn't he have lived in London, or at the very least a city- someplace where they could have taken a cab? No, of course he had to be in the middle of the woods in Florida, where everything was so bloody hot and inhospitable.
He supposed he should be glad Gemma didn't want to come. Felicity was so much worse when his sister was around. True, they were no longer irritatingly secretive- he knew about the realms now- but still, women should not take themselves as seriously as Felicity and Gemma did. Women especially should not abandon a cozy life with a good husband to travel to some far-off country and go to college, of all places. He still didn't know what was going on in Father's head when he approved it. Probably the same old father-daughter routine.
Finally, the thick canopy of trees dwindled enough for Tom to see the mansion. It was impressive, in its way, a grand old thing that reminded him of Grandmother's country estate. He examined the crowd that was spilling out on the lawn. While America was certainly no place to find a wife of the caliber Tom liked, there was no harm in looking.
There were a few women there who were obviously past their marrying age- a bony woman with hair severely pulled back and a large, beak like nose (she almost reminded Tom of a magpie), and another with violently scarlet hair and a dress with a pattern of hearts on it. Both were standing off to one side, sending unpleasant glares at anyone who dared to make eye contact. Tom shivered- they had the look of bitter spinsters, alone for life because of some big scandal in their season. He decided he wanted nothing to do with them.
On another part of the lawn, talking to a blonde woman in a shimmery red dress, were six winged children. There were three girls among them, two of them attractive enough to make Tom stop and think, but he decided against it- there was no way he was going to bring a winged wife home with him to London. American wives were bad enough.
The blonde woman was compelling, however. She was obviously rich, as evident by her dress and shining ruby necklace, and more attractive than even the oldest of the bird kids. She clearly possessed social graces, too- she smiled constantly as she talked to the winged kids, and they didn't look too amusing. The woman, however, was practically attached to Oz's arm. She was definitely off-limits. Stealing the host's lady was never good form.
A few meters away was a pair of girls, one older, one younger. The older one had dark hair and gray eyes, while the younger one was blonde and pale, but otherwise they appeared to be sisters. The duo could be pretty, Tom supposed, if not for their haunted eyes, hollow cheeks, and primitive clothing- poverty did not make wife material.
The only other woman he could see was another blonde, with long, streaming hair. She looked to be about his age, and rich, too, but there was a fierce air about her that Tom didn't like. She reminded him of Gemma when she was using her powers, actually...and was that a dagger sheath at her belt?
Felicity, of course, noticed the dagger immediately and headed over to greet the woman. Tom rolled his eyes and made his way over to where the men were standing- a man with long, shaggy hair and a rugged face, a haughty-looking pale blonde, a turtle-like older gentleman, and another man with a large colorful hat and flamboyant clothing. The last man appeared to be very twitchy, always straightening his coat, blinking rapidly, and tapping one foot against the ground.
"Hello," Tom said politely as he walked up. "I'm Thomas Doyle, from London."
The blonde boy turned away, and the shaggy-haired man sighed. "I'm Sirius Black," he said, shaking Tom's hand, "and this git is Draco Malfoy."
The turtle-like man also accepted Tom's handshake. "Fenoglio, from Italy." he said, smiling. On closer inspection, Fenoglio appeared to be in his sixties, easily the oldest person at the party, but there was still strength in his handshake and in his gaze. Tom returned his warm smile.
The twitchy man said nothing, only nodded and picked at a button on his tattered coat.
Although Fenoglio and Black were friendly, it was clear this group was not the life of the party. Still, politeness dictated that, since Tom was the one to approach the group, he had to make some sort of conversation. "I say," he began cheerily, "it's nearly six. I wonder if the conference is going to start on time?"
Suddenly, the twitchy man grabbed Tom's wrist and peered at the watch on it, his nose almost touching the face of it. Tom tried to wrench his arm away, but the man moved closer and stared at the watch as though it was written in code. "Um, excuse me, " Tom jerked back his wrist, "but-"
Thankfully, Oz chose that moment to call, "Welcome, everyone! If you'll gather by the door, please, the eleventh official Grand Annual Conference can begin!"
The twitchy man muttered something like 'Time doesn't like being started on' and let go of Tom's wrist. The Victorian gentleman took the opportunity to cross to the other side of the crowd. He could've sworn he heard the blonde boy, Draco Malfoy, chuckle loudly. How rude.
A hand caught his shoulder, and Tom turned around to see the turtle-like man. "Don't worry about the Hatter." Fenoglio said. "He's a little...touched in the head. It's normal in the world he came from- the other guest from that series, the Queen of Hearts-" he lowered his voice and pointed at the scarlet-haired woman- "keeps screaming about cutting peoples' heads off."
Tom felt a bit foolish for not having noticed- he did work at Bedlam, after all. He smiled gratefully. "Ah- uh- thank you."
"No problem." the other man replied. "It's interesting, isn't it, being at this party and getting to meet such a variety of characters? Some of these are from very famous series, like those two-" he pointed out Draco, the shaggy-haired man, and the woman with the dagger- "and the Hatter and the Queen of Hearts. Oz and Glinda are fairly famous in their own right, too."
"Is that his only name, then? The Hatter?" asked Tom.
"I don't know for sure. It makes sense, I guess."
It certainly did, thought Tom, looking over at the little man with the big hat. His headgear was definitely the most prominent thing about him.
Tom's thoughts were interrupted when Oz finally began his pre-conference speech. The gentleman shifted his weight from foot to foot, only half listening. He noticed the woman with the large ruby necklace was back at Oz's side again. She whispered something into Oz's ear and then disappeared into the house with a swish of her sequined dress. A moment later, the smells of good food began to waft out from the open door, and he could faintly hear the sounds of a table being set. Tom wished the wizard would stop speaking so they could eat- rumor had it the food was exquisite at these parties. He couldn't wait to get inside the house and officially start the conference.
After a speech that lasted long enough for our limbs (as well as our minds) to become numb, we were finally allowed inside to sample the delicious food and have invigorating conversation with the other guests.
Right.
So far, I had yet to meet a single person worth talking to at this whole party. I had a sneaking feeling this year's 'conference' was going to be just as horrible as it was last year- except this year, there was no Fang to take my mind off of things.
We all sat at a giant wooden table in their yellow-painted, vase-filled dining room- Oz and Glinda at either neatly-polished end, and the rest of us wherever we wanted to be on the sides. The three empty seats beside me were quickly filled by two blonde girls I had spotted talking to each other on the lawn and a dark-haired man with a generous amount of stubble.
To my surprise, the blonde girl sitting directly beside me turned and introduced herself. "I'm Felicity Worthington." she said. "This party really is awful, isn't it?"
Oz, clearly in earshot of Felicity, shot a dirty look at her. I laughed and answered, "Maximum Ride. You're absolutely right. Everyone's so afraid of being rude that they won't say a thing."
Felicity smiled, and just like that, we started an actual conversation. Yes, yours truly, actually managed to carry on a casual conversation with a non-flock member and a non-relative/mad scientist/general crazy person. Of course, I didn't know her story- she could be some kind of demon in human form, for all I knew- but still, it felt nice.
We talked through the first course, and then she introduced the two people sitting next to her. I found out that the other blonde was Eowyn and the shaggy-haired man was Sirius Black, that Eowyn had fought in a war and killed the formidable second-in-command of the opposing army, that she had been riding horses since she was very young, that she loved sword-fighting, that she had fallen in love with the now-king of men, and that he had married an elf. "Aragorn looks a lot like you, actually" she observed, turning to Sirius. "I wish he was here so you could meet him."
"What about you, Sirius?" Felicity asked, leaning towards him. "What's your story?"
Sirius, however, did not want to talk. Even when Felicity reminded him that all members of the GACC used an honor code not to repeat any of the stories of other characters unless they were given explicit permission to, he remained vague. Finally, Sirius told us it was against the law of his series to tell us anything about...well, about what, he never said. "I've been to prison once." he said. "I don't want to repeat that experience anytime soon."
"Really?" Felicity pushed a some peas around her plate, but her shark-like eyes were focused on him. "What was prison like?"
Sirius shuddered, looking like the memory aged him decades. "Cold."
At some point during this exchange, Angel sent me a thought asking if she and the rest of the flock (minus Dylan) could go outside and fly around some. Sure, I answered. Just...stay close, and come back before it's dark, all right? How motherly of me, right?
As it turned out, my motherliness was both extremely lucky and extremely stupid- but that part comes later.
"How about you, Maximum?" Felicity inquired. "What's the story behind the wings?"
"Uh..." I began.
Beside me, Dylan leaned forward. "We were made this way, by scientists. We're genetic experiments."
Just as I was deciding whether to kill him (for being blunt) or feel grateful (that I didn't have to explain), the room went dark. Several characters screamed.
Oz, a few feet to my left, said, "Must be something wrong with the switchboard- Glinda, would you be a dear and go check?" and I heard her quick footsteps leaving the room. Then, after a moment, there was the sound of other footsteps in the hall- slow footsteps, barely audible, that didn't sound anything like Oz. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. After a moment, the slow footsteps disappeared in the direction Oz had gone, and the only noise was the frantic whispering of fourteen terrified guests.
I felt around for Dylan in the chair beside me, but my hand closed on empty space. Funny, I didn't remember him getting up. "Dylan?" I whispered, throat suddenly tight.
"I'm here," he replied, but his voice was coming from the doorway. "I can't see anyone out-"
He was cut off an earth-shattering crash. The little light coming from the windows disappeared. Some crazy birdkid instinct activated in me, and before I'd even consciously decided to, I was up and running, ready to break through the glass windows and leave- but I could feel no glass on the windows. Instead, I found myself banging on a cold, hard sheet of metal.
A few frantic minutes later, Glinda returned. She whispered something to Oz, and darted out of the room again. Slowly, very slowly, the wizard stood. "It's the switchboard." he said. "It's been smashed, apparently."
Several characters, myself included, let out loud expressions of dismay. Oz held up a hand. "And this- this metal on the windows and doors, well...the realtor said when I bought this house that it came with hurricane protection, although I never figured out where it was or how to use it..." He laughed nervously, rubbing his face.
"So what does this mean?" Sirius said.
Oz sighed. "Well, it would appear we're trapped in here with no power, for the moment. I'm sure we can figure out something, soon, but-"
"How did the switchboard get smashed?" asked Eowyn.
"I don't know." Oz said. "An accident, or something..."
I glanced over at Dylan, wondering if he was thinking what I was thinking. Because accidents like this, that destroyed property and left a dozen people stranded in a pitch-black house with plenty of hiding spots...accidents like these were rarely accidents.
Call me paranoid, but someone, or something, had deliberately destroyed the switchboard.
A/N: In case any of you want to know, the series (series'? serieses?) I'm using for this are the Wizard of Oz (minus Wicked), the Hunger Games, the Gemma Doyle trilogy, Harry Potter, the Inkheart trilogy, Lord of the Rings, Alice in Wonderland (the original), and Maximum Ride (minus anything after Fang, because that's when this work began).