Chapter 10: Siesta in the Snow

The next few days pass by as those do when one is traversing a long and mostly tedious road. Molly is now surrounded by a quartet of unique companions plus Toby the hedgehog; their company makes the trip that much better. Every night she falls asleep exhausted but feeling very well protected.

On the third day after meeting the Lion and passing a stormy night in his den, they pass by a road sign that seems to have pitched itself sideways across their path. It is big enough that it touches both sides of the yellow brick road. If its accuracy can be counted on, they are less than a day away from the Emerald City. This fact fills Molly's heart with both joy and trepidation. She watches Sherlock as he bends at the waist and retrieves the sign; it takes him only a few seconds to reset it in its former place. Molly does not see the fresh scratches against the yellow metal as she never looks at the sign after reading it the first time; she also never questions the fact that the sign was possibly thrown in their path for a reason. Caught in her mixed feelings of finally being able to get home and leaving her knew friends, the four ravens sitting in the tree above where the Tin Man replaces the sign are not spotted, either.

Within the hour, the formerly sunny sky has darkened, yet the daisy colored sun still shines upon them. Molly is caught off guard by the sudden appearance of what she assumes are snowflakes: huge pastel yellow, pink, and blue snowflakes as big as dinner plates. They descend slowly from the sky, wandering here and there on the light breeze that has kicked up around them. Molly laughs and holds her hands up high over her head, enjoying the only slightly cooler feel of the flakes against her skin. It is a brilliant cascade of soft color against the weakened afternoon sunlight; a forceful reminder of marshmallow chickens and chocolate eggs. A wave of homesickness threatens to overcome her so she reaches into the basket on her arm and gives Toby's head a pat in order to resist the feeling. Behind Molly, Greg is carrying the leather satchel because Toby prefers to ride where he can occasionally have a look around; she can hear the quiet sound as he fiddles with it as he walks.

Sherlock and John are leading the group, both men focusing on the way ahead. Greg spends the time daydreaming as he walks so that when she stops to play with the snowflakes, he almost walks right into her. He holds both hands out in front of him, the result being that he only bounces off of her back and then lands on the yellow brick road on his duff, rocking back and forth slightly to cushion the blow .

"Hey now!" Rubbing his hindquarters with one paw, he grumbles then laughs at Molly and himself; it is a deep, booming sound that begins low and ends on a higher note. His brown eyes sparkle with kindness even though his expression is one of irritation.

John spins around, startled, and finds himself laughing at the pair of them. The Lion's tail is thrashing on the ground and his silver mane is quickly being coated with colorful flakes. He knows it is ridiculous, but he soon finds himself sitting on the ground next to Greg. Without thinking, John reaches down and grabs a small handful of the snow and tosses it up into the air. Some of it lands on Toby's head, as the little hedgie has stuck his nose out of the basket to see what is happening. The three of them are mumbling nonsense and giggling like five year olds.

Beside the lion and the scarecrow, Molly flops down into a drift. She finds herself laying back to make a snow angel and that is when the sky becomes very interesting. Against the grey-blue expanse is a huge, fluffy cloud of lilac. "Everything is sooooo beautiful!" She grins and rubs the back of her head into the soft coolness. "Like a feather bed!" Molly cries, laughing all the harder now and kicking her feet which mixes up the snow until some of it is the same color as the cloud overhead.

Flakes are fluttering all around, becoming a soft blanket that is muting every sound; Molly winds up with her head pillowed against Greg's hip as the lion continues to laugh. One arm covers her shoulders protectively as their eyes begin to droop. John is stretched flat out on the ground beside them, Toby curled into a ball on his belly which is still shaking with barely-suppressed giggles. The hedgehog is already fast asleep and John is rapidly following the others.

They all look so peacefully blessed out and Sherlock cannot stop the jealous shock that runs through his hatefully stiffening body. Time stands still as he watches his companions succumb to the elegantly soothing spell of the somnius snow. Now, he is quite literally frozen to the spot as the temperature around them begins to drop, though in the magic haze of their laughter they have not yet noticed that he is not with them. It is just as well, he thinks as he feels another joint tighten against the cold. He tries once to open his mouth and call out to them but the spell is working too fast and they have are all fast asleep. Molly's silver boots, however, still sparkle radiantly underneath the variegated hues of the enchanted snow.

Before long, the pastel colored powder is up to Sherlock's knees and his friends are nothing more than vaguely human-shaped lumps underneath it. His body will not move but his mind is fast and his eyes are blazing as he keeps his silent, but useless, vigil over them. For the moment, they are safe. Anything that comes for them will have to get through him first, one way or the other.

0000

The Wicked Witch cackles maniacally over her crystal ball, intently watching as her favorite nemesis is caught in a stiff pose within the swirling mass of her spell.

"Jim, darling, come here." Irene calls out to the house in general in her most falsely sincere voice.

Irene does not turn to see where the monkey is; rather she stretches out a long arm and calls him to her with her fingers as soon as she hears the sound of his wings. She snaps her fingers over the crystal ball to mute the noise of the somnius storm. Quickly flying to her side, he grasps the offered hand with a hairy paw and perches on the low table beside the coldly glowing ball. Irene frowns at him and makes a big show out of wiping her hand against the long skirt of her black dress. He casts his eyes down towards his toes and does his best to look repentant for touching her; he misses his crown, misses having something to do with his hands in these moments where the witch reminds him he is nothing more than the dirt beneath her feet.

"Nevermind, my pet. Look there." Irene points; the crystal ball clearly displaying all of the traveling companions either incapacitated or asleep. Jim cocks his head to the side and wonders about the irony that if any of them moved a foot in either direction they would be out of the storm. He shrugs his shoulders instead of mentioning Irene's oversight.

"There he is, my most wretchedly loyal pet. He is yours for the taking." Irene coos at Jim, stopping just short of patting the monkey on the head.

Jim bares his teeth at her as he makes to jump from the table. Fast as a silver bullet, the wicked witch latches onto the top of one wing with her hand; he struggles for a moment until his eyes lock with hers. He shivers against the coldness there.

"Do not kill him. I need him alive to test the next part of the experiment." Her irises have been completely swallowed by her pupils and her light green skin is flushed darker on her cheeks. Moriarty nods again and this time when he flaps his wings, Irene lets him go.

"Have fun dear, you have earned it!" She calls after him, not hearing the insulted snort he lets out as he makes for the nearest open window.