Chapter 1

"Manek! Are you quite ready?!"

I sighed. "Yes, Ma. Coming." In reality, I was still trying to close my suitcase. This "fantabulous" trip to the Emerald City was sure to be a bore, so I wanted to take as many books as possible. Oh don't worry, I'm not a novel guy. No, all of my books have to do with politics, government, and the like. That stuff fascinates me to no end! We live in a remote part of the Vinkus, but I still subscribed to The Emerald City Times. That's how I taught myself political science. The Emerald City Times became especially interesting once the supposed "Wicked" Witch of the West rose to power. The crazy things they said about her!

"Manek! For Oz's sake, the caravan is here, and the driver is eager to leave! Let's go!" Ma came into my room and got even angrier. "Are you out of your mind, boy?! Trying to fit all those fancy books into one trunk! We're going to the Emerald City to sightsee, not read all day!"

"No Ma, we're going to the EC because of me," I said, irritated. "Because you don't like me and my women, and you think I need a respite since Pa died, even though he died, like, fifteen years ago."

"You're right, Manny," Ma sighed. "Your father's death has been hard on both of us. I know I've baked way too many sugar cakes since he passed."

"Since he was killed, you mean!"

"Manny, your father was not …"

"Yes, he was! And you know that, Ma!" I sighed. Ma didn't deserve this abuse, not from me anyway. I took The Evolution of Munchkinland Agriculture and Ozma the Billious' Economic Policies out of my suitcase. It finally closed. "I'm ready. Let's go."

The caravan driver was a ruddy woman named Oatsie, who looked like the wrong person to get in a fight with. "You and your son?" she asked Ma.

"Yes indeed!" I couldn't help but grin. Ma was acting like a little girl on her first day of primary school!

Oatsie was unfazed. "Twenty Vinkun rupees, please. Names?"

"I'm Daffodilia Irjison," Ma answered. "But please, just call me Daffy. And this is Manek."

"Great. Welcome aboard. Here are the rules: no smoking in my caravan, no drinking in my caravan, no leaving your assigned carriage, no disrespect in my caravan, no shouting in my caravan, and please to the Unnamed God, no sex in my caravan!"

I snorted. "Can we do the hokey pokey in your caravan?"

"Manek!" Ma exclaimed. "You'll have to forgive my son. Sometimes he acts like he's twenty three going on fourteen." But she was teasing me here, and I knew it.

"Right," Oatsie said, all business. "I'll put you two in the first carriage. Let's roll!"

As Ma and I settled into our seats, I took in our new traveling companions. There was a Yunameta tribesman, all decked out in his native garb. There were two EC diplomats who seemed to be keeping to themselves …

"Hello, sir." I turned to see a very pretty girl grinning flirtatiously at me. Resist, Manek, resist.

"Hi!"

She tossed her chocolate colored hair. "I'm Lady Milla of the Shale Shallows. What might your name be?"

"Manek. Manek Irjison."

"And I'm his mother," Ma cut in. "Lady, ma'am, you should have seen Manny when he was a little boy. He used to declare to the entire house, 'I've gotta poopy!' Didn't you, Manny?"

"Ma!" I groaned. "Milla doesn't need to know that."

"Yeah, I really don't," Milla agreed. "It was nice meeting you, Master Manek." She awkwardly slid away from me.

"Don't you be mad at me!" Ma scolded. "This trip is not about women!"

"Relax, Ma. She isn't my type." And, though I would never admit this to my mother, I was already kind of over sleeping with four women in four nights. The thrill was gone.

"Alright, passengers!" Oatsie shouted back to us. "We're heading out now, so it's officially too late to relieve yourself! I aim to reach our next destination in a week! Next stop, Kiamo Ko!"

"The Witch's castle?!" a Vinkun man squeaked. "W-why there?"

"Because it's a stop on my route! Calm down, Yasho! Like the Wicked Witch of the West is gonna bother us! She has a broomstick, for Oz's sake!" I sighed internally. Another superstitious idiot.

At this point, you're probably wondering how my Pa died, so let me explain. My father used to be in the Wizard's Guard, once upon a time, when I was just a tyke. But then, he realized what an ass the Wizard was, so he quit. Deserted. He told Ma that his resignation was sanctioned by the Wizard, but he told me the truth, thinking I wouldn't understand. I did. But I didn't tell Ma anything because I didn't want to get into any trouble. Well, one morning, Pa went out to tend to our crops, and well, let's just say he didn't come back of his own accord. The wound was obviously caused by a sword; even I could see that at five years old. But Ma insisted that he must have cut himself on something. Not bloody likely.

I guess I can't rat on old Yasho too much, because he did hunt for us every day. He would go out every morning and catch a boar or something, and Ma would cook it for us. Yep, she became the caravan's official chef. Meanwhile, I started hanging with Oatsie. I remember the discussion we had on the night before we were to reach Kiamo Ko.

"You never tire," I remarked. "How in Oz can you drive all night like this?"

"Energy bars," Oatsie replied with a shrug. "They work wonders."

I snorted. "Yeah. My mom must eat those. It's so … unnatural how hyped up she is about this trip?"

"And you're not?"

"She's trying to teach me a lesson. But I just haven't found the right girl yet! I'm not as obsessed with sex as she thinks I am!" I didn't want to tell Oatsie too much, but I did need to vent.

Oatsie was like a mobile bartender. "Well, maybe she's really taking you to the EC so you can find a woman to settle down with. And who knows? Maybe you'll find one."

"Yeah, maybe."

We didn't reach Kiamo Ko until the next evening, so Oatsie declared that we would actually stop and rest for the night. Of course, that made Yasho go absolutely insane, and he refused to go out and catch some dinner. So, guess who had to do it? Me. It didn't take me long to find some game; there was this huge, fat bunny that was just sitting in the grass, munching. But just as I was about to shoot, something stopped me.

It was a voice. It was coming from the castle. A beautiful, rich mezzo soprano. What? The Witch was a closet singer? Who the hell knew? I could only imagine what Yasho was doing inside the carriage! But Oz, it was simply gorgeous to hear! The Witch was belting at the top of her lungs, letting it all out. But then, it suddenly stopped, as if the Witch had just realized that someone was listening. Could she see me? I didn't think the Witch was evil, but still, I caught the rabbit and strangled it silently.

The next morning, Oatsie was preparing to leave when we heard a woman crying out in apparent panic. "New traveler!" Oatsie exclaimed before she leapt down from her seat. A few minutes later, she reentered the carriage with the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on.