Betsy stepped aboard an early morning taxi bound for the Quadling Country following her evening's stay in the Emerald City, easily receiving permission from the princess Ozma to use a guest room in the royal palace. She had not seen Hank, her mule companion, in quite some time and Betsy figured that if she was going to be remaining at the tin palace for the moment, it would seem logical to relocate Hank there.
Sandrine, one of Glinda's fifty handmaidens, was there to greet her as she stepped off the taxi. "Good morning…Betsy, was it? I'm afraid Glinda and Mr. Diggs are busy working on a special project at the moment alongside Professor Wogglebug. May I help you with anything?"
"Is Hank still here?" Betsy asked.
"Hank? OH, your mule companion. Yes, we have been seeing to his care." Sandrine assured. "Although he has been well-fed and properly groomed, he has been a bit moody as of late. I suppose it's because you haven't been around." She held out a hand, smiling. "I'll take you to him. He's probably finished his breakfast by now."
Betsy nodded, taking the blond handmaiden's hand as she led Betsy to a stables area to the left of the large and beautiful red palace. Two other tired horses of a different color…one a peach color, the other lavender…were being cared for in addition to Hank, and when he saw Sandrine bringing Betsy to him, the unrestrained mule immediately galloped forward to meet her.
"Long time, no see, ol' friend!" Betsy wrapped her arms around Hank's furry neck as he slowed to a halt in front of her, squeezing lovingly.
"All th' food here is delicious." Hank noted. "An' th' handmaid'ns have been very nice while I've been here…but I still miss'd ya, Betsy."
"I'm stayin' at th' tin palace in the Winkie Country, Hank." Betsy responded. "I'd really like you t' stay there with me. Unless you're allergic t' the sight o' tin."
"Are they as nice there as th' handmaid'ns are here?" Hank asked.
"Absolutely, Hank." Sandrine confirmed, smiling. "Bear in mind that their Emperor, Nicholas Chopper, is a very heartfelt ruler. Everyone who willingly serves him there are just as nice and as courteous as we are. Their meals are a bit more robust, but no less delicious than our food."
"Hmmm, robust, eh? You've got me curious." Hank clopped over to where Betsy could mount him. "Jus' tell me where t' go. I'm rested an' fed enough t' carry you anywhere y' like, Betsy."
Sandrine helped Betsy mount the mule, and the Oklahoma girl gave the handmaiden a kiss on her forehead before she stepped away. "Thanks so much for takin' care o' Hank. If y' see Mist'r Diggs, please let him know we went to th' tin palace?"
Sandrine performed a dutiful curtsey. "As you wish, Betsy. Safe journeys to you and Hank."
With one final wave from Betsy, and a nod of acknowledgement from Hank, the mule began to clop away from Glinda's palace, establishing a brisk trot as he made his way out of the palace grounds. Other handmaidens similarly offered farewells as the duo left.
Betsy shared some of her solo adventures with Hank as they traveled. The mule found the adventure with the Hip-po-gy-raf particularly thrilling, and everything Betsy had mentioned about being in the tin palace made him all the more curious to see what the winkies there were like. He felt similarly after hearing what Betsy told him about their Emperor, as well.
But Betsy's peripheral vision caught sight of an odd occurrence at a lower ground elevation as they clopped towards the border area separating the Quadling Country from the Winkie Country. Betsy moved her head towards Hank and whispered. "Stop for a moment, Hank. I think somethin's up ov'r there."
Bobbing his head in acknowledgement, Hank's advance towards the edge of the naturally-formed ravine was as quiet as possible, and once Betsy felt they were close enough to observe, she slipped off Hank's back, and moved towards a large log laying on its side, hiding behind it. Hank made an effort to look like an idling mule as Betsy watched.
They were six women clad in black and red robes, one of which looked older than the rest and wore an eyepatch. They had black, pointed hats as well, giving both Betsy and Hank the impression that they were a coven of witches. Particularly for the fact that a kettle was boiling over a campfire that had been blazing below it, the kettle held aloft by sturdy iron bars, and the campfire surrounded by a matching array of white rocks encircling it.
The one with the eyepatch gestured to someone to the northeast of her, and two other similarly-dressed witches flanked a very beautiful young woman dressed in regally-designed fabrics. Her youthful face looked naturally sweet, but there was a sullen and despairing look upon it at the moment. Contrarily, the other witches looked ominously gleeful as the one with the eyepatch began throwing powders into the kettle, causing bright flashes to ignite.
The one-eyed witch's companions then began tying the girl, who did not make any move to resist, to a tree. They were too far to hear any words from this site, and anything they did hear was faint. They could only watch as the witches began dancing around the bound girl, speaking some form of chant as they moved. As they both watched, the appearances of these dancing witches altered to those of dainty, beautiful maidens. They could have easily been mistaken for harmless and benevolent ladies were it not for their menacing expressions.
The one-eyed witch then procured a brass bottle, pouring its contents into the kettle, which now emitted a cacophany of bubbling and smoking which sounded faint at Betsy's distance, but would likely have been loud had they been closer. Again, they heard words spoken which neither Betsy, nor Hank could make out.
The witch with the eyepatch then procured a ladle as the false maidens held the kettle aloft, and the witch plunged the ladle into whatever ugly mix they had concocted, pulling it out of the kettle. After shouting words…two of which, 'love' and 'heart', could be heard even at Betsy's distance...unto the skies, the one-eyed crone cast the ladle's contents onto the girl's breast. She yelped with the momentary burning pain, but then her expression seemed to freeze, her eyes wide open in horror.
Whatever magic had been applied, it had momentarily made the girl's body transparent, emphasizing her beating young heart. They were able to see its color go from its healthy red color to gray, and then to a frigid-looking white color. As the girl's transparency solidified, Betsy could make out strange patterns upon the girl's now pale skin, as if the veins beneath her skin were being filled with an icy blue substance.
The girl's head had lowered during this visibly unpleasant occurrence, but when the girl raised her head and opened her eyes, a cold and somewhat vicious expression was now upon it.
"This is not good." Betsy quietly remarked as all of the wicked witches danced in their exultation. "We've got t' tell Ozma."
"I agree." Hank replied. "Get back on me."
They were fortunately able to slip away without being noticed by the witches, who released their captive from the ropes that had bound her.
They were also quick to remove any evidence that they were there.
During those first two years, Dorothy felt very much out of place when she ate alongside the other munchkins during open breakfast, open lunch, and open dinner gatherings which happened every so often, each of which was hosted by a particular guild. As last week's open breakfast was hosted by the Lullaby League, the Learning Guild was next in the rotation. It was difficult for Dorothy to keep up with the massive amounts of gossip being exchanged, but she was at least receptive. She needed to be, as the munchkin tutor had to get a feel for munchkin society as a whole if she were to live among them as one of them.
At this moment, however, Dorothy Gale had become an active hand at gossip herself, knowing a great many munchkins and some of the things they had said or done in recent months. Any of this…among so many other subjects…could be added to the wellspring of subjects worth spreading gossip about.
"You should have seen what happened with Rory two weeks ago." Dorothy remarked, already in the groove of the moment after swallowing a spoonful of Blue Harvest Porridge. "She had just finished embroidering some beautiful flower designs just above the lower hem of the skirt she was working on. Her husband Ferris comes racing along with food in his mouth because he was dying to tell her something. Probably about another matter Rory knows next to nothing about…" This generated giggled from the listening munchkin socialites who she had befriended. "…and he trips and stumbles forward over a board that carpenter boy…what was his name…"
"Mull?" One socialite guessed.
Dorothy shook her head. "Mull works with gears, not wood."
"Hortense?" Another socialite surmised.
"Nope, not him. He's more of an everymunchkin." Dorothy answered.
"Biddle?" was the next guess.
"Yes! That was him! Biddle!" Dorothy confirmed. "So he stumbles over a board Biddle is working on and begins staggering all out of control. He's headed right on over to Rory, too, but she's too engrossed in her embroidery to notice! Heads are all turning towards this and we figure Ferris is gonna tear right through that skirt on impact…but wouldn't you know it? He brings himself to a dead stop! His eyes are right in front of a portion of the embroidery, Rory is beside herself with the terrible shock of her husband's sudden appearance, and all that silly munchkin could say was…'Where'd these lillies come from?'"
Dorothy's gossiping group giggled with great amusement at this as the round-bodied munchkin scooped another portion of her porridge into her waiting mouth.
Flora, the munchkin socialite who had thought Mull was a carpenter boy, chimed in with her comment. "Lillies always were his favorite kind of flower."
"Next to poppies, but he can only take so many long naps in one day." Varla, the socialite who had guessed Hortense, then added, earning giggles of her own from the others, Dorothy included.
It was then that Dorothy spotted another familiar munchkin girl heading towards her. Someone she had wanted to very much to speak to following the events of the previous night. She waved at Jinjur as the Master General Commander…who was in full uniform…casually walked towards Dorothy with a curious expression on her face.
"Still on duty, Master General Commander?" Dorothy asked, a bright smile on her face.
"No." Jinjur replied. "In fact, princess Ozma ordered me…she ordered me…to stand down. Then the Scarecrow suggested I come here for an open breakfast rather than eating with my comrades."
"Well, I'm sure you've eaten with them so many times." Dorothy reasoned. "Maybe he just wanted to suggest a change of scenery."
Jinjur nodded, looking a little suspicious now. "Maybe." She then looked to the food spread nearby. "Did you make any of this, Dorothy?"
"Mm-hmm! I have Herku Crumpets, Blue Harvest Porridge, and a whole bunch of baked, non-sentient Bunbury muffins." Dorothy confirmed. "There should be plenty of butter squares next to them. Mind if I join you? I could use another helping of that porridge."
"Hmm…the crumpets sound good…" Jinjur mused as Dorothy followed the munchkin soldier over to the food spread, around which all the outdoor tables had been arranged. As Jinjur collected her food, Dorothy started thinking of a way to ease the soldier's past with Boq into their discussion. She ultimately surmised that careful recollection of her previous night with him might produce results.
Dorothy collected more of the porridge, adding it to her partially-finished bowl. "I saw the Mayor last night, you know."
"Oh?" Jinjur started pouring thick syrup upon the crumpets she had collected onto a plate. "How is that moody little sneak?"
"Well, you know how he is. Bringing up Munchkinland initiatives, going over labor output, and everything…" Dorothy answered.
"…taking a fancy to girls far too young for him to be courting…" Jinjur sarcastically added. "…for all the doting he's been doing on people like me and you, he really needs to be reminded of the kind of scandal he could bring on himself, Dorothy. You and I, we ought to spread the word around."
"Why?" Dorothy frowned. "There's nothing wrong with him being a perfect gentleman."
"Don't you think he's being a bit desperate though, Dorothy?" Jinjur was at least making sure they were not being overheard as they spoke. The Ministress was similarly watching for eavesdroppers. Fortunately, everyone was deeply engrossed in their food, and their gossip.
"Honestly, Jinjur…for a man so sweet, and so responsible enough to keep an eye on his duties as the Mayor, don't you think you're being a bit harsh?" Dorothy gently scolded. "I have no intention of sullying Boq's good name anymore than I could remind everyone that it was you who practically opened the door to let a power-mad shoemaker in two years ago."
Were this anyone else, Jinjur's ire would have been instantaneously provoked…but this was coming from Dorothy Gale, the great heroine she idolized and deeply respected. Jinjur was instead stung by these words. She closed her eyes and sighed loudly. "You really would do that, wouldn't you?"
"I won't like doing it, but I would…but ONLY if you let slip about whatever Boq did that apparently soiled your opinion of him." Dorothy replied. "Now look, Jinjur…no matter who or what he is, no matter what he may have done in the past, he's just as much a friend as you and I are, the difference being he doesn't march all over Munchkinland with a perpetual chip on his shoulder. He's still a man who regularly earns respect for how much he works for…and still cares about…everyone here in Munchkinland. Even after all the grief you both must have gone through when the East Witch was in power. Don't you think he may still be nursing some of the wounds that may have been inflicted upon him in the past? Don't you think he might have learned something?"
Jinjur lowered her head a bit, and Dorothy had to deduce that the munchkin soldier was feeling at least a touch of shame. The munchkin tutor did not expect that she would speak as she was, but Dorothy knew she was at least speaking from the heart.
She just hoped her heart wouldn't take this confrontation too far.
Jinjur, however, looked a little concerned as she glanced upon the groups of gossiping munchkins. Dorothy had to guess that she wanted to get something off her chest in a manner no one had any chance of overhearing.
"Jinjur…if you'd rather not talk about it here, we can relocate to my house." Dorothy then offered. "I might have to take some of the stuff I brought back with us, though. Or we could just eat here. Either way…"
"I'll get the crumpets and the muffins." Jinjur interjected, already moving towards the food spread. A smile now played on Dorothy's face as she followed the off-duty soldier.
Her house was only a few Munchkinland blocks away from where the open breakfast was being held, and they were both able to bear the weight of their food burdens until they were in front of the large table in Dorothy's home. They had to shake out their arms from the stress before Jinjur pulled her dish and finally began to dig in to her untouched crumpets. Dorothy also settled at the big table to finish her porridge.
"Whatever you want to talk about, you should know that it won't go anywhere beyond this house." Dorothy reminded. She then noticed Toto rise from where he was laying to pad over to the stairs leading down to the hidden passageway. They both heard his little paws tapping down the stairs. "See? Even Toto understands. Now there really is no one but us."
Jinjur finally smiled, although it seemed a little more like a smirk, as the soldier continued to dig into her crumpets. "You know…there's a terrible irony to all this, Dorothy."
Dorothy swallowed the porridge she had in her mouth. "What kind of irony?"
Jinjur made her wait for it, scooping another forkful of her crumpets into her mouth, chewing, and then swallowing it before answering. "I don't hate him. I never have. Yes, I will admit that when he first proposed to me, I thought there might have been a lustful, uncouth monster behind that man's gentlemanly ways. It didn't help that I thought Belay was actively trying to discredit me in the eyes of the men, too…and that's an irony in and of itself. He's been one of my best friends ever since I became Master General Commander."
Dorothy shrugged, smiling. "Sometimes, someone's worst enemy can become that person's best friend."
"In my line of work, that's when other soldiers start worrying." They both shared a giggle at this observation. Jinjur's tone went thoughtful when next she spoke. "I guess it was more the fact that I couldn't that was bothering me. That it was for his sake that I needed to step away. I gradually understood that over time. I was born years after he was, and even if I wanted to grow older, there was nothing I could do about it, because doing that would only age me one year for every birthday. Well…unless a maturation ceremony was called for, but that's only when a person is in his or her infancy."
Although it seemed Dorothy was engrossed in her porridge, she had been listening to every single word, and it now seemed more apparent than ever what the ultimate solution to the situation between Jinjur and Boq should be.
And that solution was in a small vial resting against Dorothy's breast.
"Although I may not have shown it on the outside, you should know that if Boq really did find happiness with the kind of person who he would want to be with, I really would be very happy for him." Jinjur admitted. "I'm not fooled by the way he's been doting on you lately though, Dorothy. I think if you were older, you'd make a great couple."
"He's been hesitant, though. He never once proposed to me." Dorothy remarked. "He learned, Jinjur."
The munchkin soldier nodded. "I know. I guess when he proposed to me, he was…well…convinced that I was everything he loved about Maud. He was overcome with emotion, and he…slipped in his judgment. I know that now. If I were older back then, I…I'm sure my response would have been different."
"Under the inescapable circumstances, you were right in saying no." Dorothy noted.
Jinjur nodded. "I just wish it could have played out differently."
Her porridge bowl empty, Dorothy placed the bowl on the table and walked right up to Jinjur, placing her hands upon her shoulders. "Would you be afraid of being as old as he is?"
"Heh…if I were as old as he is, I'd have to retire." Jinjur mused. "I guess that's why I was thinking about it, remember? The last time we talked? I think being as old as he is…and being with him…would be the kind of crazy adventure I might just find appealing, Dorothy, but I couldn't do that as a soldier."
"Who would you have wanted to succeed you?" Dorothy asked. "Would you give Belay his old title back?"
Jinjur shook her head. "He wouldn't want it. He told me so himself. To be honest? I haven't really thought about it…and it wouldn't make any sense to think about it. I'm too young for him. Just like you have to accept that he could never marry you, either. We both have to accept that."
With a sigh, Dorothy nodded, although she was playing along. She tried another tactic. She couldn't just tell her. She needed to ease Jinjur into the revelation.
"You know…I talked to Ozma about his interest in me." She began. "She told me about a body of enchanted water in the Forest of Burzee called the Wellspring of Ages. Closely guarded and protected by the fairies for the danger it poses to anyone who comes into contact with the water. Human, munchkin, animal…diving into its waters results in instant death. You'd be a pile of sand in less than a minute."
"Not exactly a choice swimming hole." Jinjur mused.
"But…by taking the water in single drops, one can become older. All they would need to do is take the drops at night, and then settle in for an evening's sleep." Dorothy explained. "When that person wakes up…"
"Dorothy…are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Jinjur sounded alarmed as she interjected. "It's forbidden for non-fairies to set foot in the forest of Burzee!"
But the munchkin calmly shook her head. "I'm not suggesting a visit to Burzee at all, Jinjur." She then fished beneath her dress, and carefully pulled off the necklace with the small vial. "But I am suggesting this."
Jinjur looked at the tiny glass vial, seeing the liquid in its container space. Dorothy maintained a tight grip on the silver links of the necklace, in the event that the munchkin soldier refused it in a manner that was not negotiable.
After a moment of silence, Jinjur lifted a finger up towards the vial, looking at the round-bodied munchkin that held the necklace it was attached to. "Is that from the…?"
Dorothy nodded.
Jinjur's hands then went to her waist as she frowned. "And Ozma gave you this?"
Dorothy nodded again. "There's enough here to make it possible for one to be as old as Boq, Jinjur…and while I've spent almost two years getting to know him, you've known him a lot longer than I have, and after what I've heard you saying about him, I think you should be the one to use it."
Jinjur stared at the vial for a very long moment now, contemplating Dorothy's wisdom.
Her eyes then went to Dorothy's. "I still think you and Boq would make a great couple, Dorothy."
Dorothy smiled. "My Aunt Em seems to think so. Uncle Henry likes him, too…but Jinjur, to be honest, I didn't help him…I didn't inspire him…to keep the munchkins from sinking into despair during the reign of a powerful witch."
"A witch you destroyed." Jinjur reminded.
"Jinjur…my house dropped on that witch. I had nothing to do with it." Dorothy countered. "I was just taking shelter from a tornado. If you're going to credit anyone or anything for that mean ol' witch's death, you should credit the tornado."
Jinjur smiled in amusement. "Maybe Boq should marry the tornado."
Dorothy placed a hand, gently, on the munchkin soldier's shoulder. "Would you be willing to give him another chance, Jinjur?" She gently asked.
Another long moment passed, only this time, Jinjur had settled herself into the closest chair as Dorothy waited for her answer…
…but a knock on the door of the house interrupted the tense moment, and Dorothy went to answer it. Pulling the door open, she saw the tutor named Ermengarde standing there.
"Ministress Dorothy…an emergency meeting of the Learning Guild has been called." Ermengarde reported. "We need you there right away. I have a taxi waiting out here."
"Okay, Ermengarde. I just need a moment. I'll be right out." Dorothy replied. Ermengarde nodded as Dorothy shut the door.
She then walked back over to Jinjur slowly and thoughtfully. The munchkin soldier was apparently still in consideration of Dorothy's words. Perhaps weighing out the good and the bad. Her eyes then went to the munchkin Ministress.
It was at that point, when Dorothy smiled upon Jinjur, that she decided to let go of her potential future with Boq. She placed the necklace around Jinjur's neck, and then kissed her forehead.
"I have to go." Dorothy softly remarked. "We can talk more about this later, if you like."
And with that, Dorothy headed back outside, moving swiftly towards the taxi. Jinjur heard it pull away, leaving the munchkin soldier to return the curious gaze of Toto, who had returned from his brief stay in the subterranean passage. The little black dog just padded up and sat right in front of her.
Jinjur sighed, lingering her gaze upon the black cairn terrier. "What do you think I should do?" She mused aloud.
Toto tilted his head…and then spoke two words, much to Jinjur's surprise.
"Don't know."
Hank hurried Betsy through the pedestrian lanes of the Emerald City towards the royal palace, the four-legged mule calling out a few wild brays to clear the path in front of him. Bystanders hurried to the sides upon seeing and hearing the gray-furred mule's advance.
However, when the mule finally arrived at the entrance to the royal palace, they saw a soldier with a long green beard standing in front of the closed doors. Betsy quickly slipped off of Hank's back and hurried up towards the soldier, who was armed with a long-barrelled rifle which had a cork plugging the barrel. This cork was attached to a string connecting it to the barrel.
"I need t' see th' princess now!" Betsy firmly remarked. "It can't wait!"
But the soldier shook his head. "The princess is currently engaging in urgent business with a visitor. She gave strict instructions that they are not to be disturbed."
"But we saw witches! In th' Quadlin' Forest!" Betsy protested. "They were doin' some kind o' bad magic to a girl! We saw th' whole thing!"
The soldier blinked the moment he heard the word 'witches'. His expression turned wary, and he gave Betsy a nod of acknowledgement. "Wait here." Upon turning, he nearly collided with a very curious-looking Jellia Jamb. "Pardon me, Jellia."
After watching the soldier hurry down towards the throne room, Jellia turned to Betsy. "Did you say 'witches'?"
Betsy nodded. "They had witch hats, an' we saw 'em use magic."
When she explained to Betsy what had happened to the girl, a look of worry formed on Jellia's face. Particularly in the Oklahoma girl mentioning that the apparent leader of these witches had only one eye.
"Just when we were certain our problems with wicked witches were over." Jellia lamented, lowering her head. Jellia then noticed that the soldier was on his way back from the throne room, and he approached Betsy.
"The Princess Ozma has requested your presence." The soldier reported. "Please come with me."
Betsy quickly stepped outside to call out to Hank, who was still waiting outside. "I'll be right back! They're lettin' me in!"
"Tell her everything you told me, Betsy!" Jellia called out as she and the soldier headed for the doors to the throne room. Once she saw them go inside, the head maid hurried over to try and listen through the door.
Within the throne room, the soldier offered a bow. "Miss Betsy Bobbin, your highness."
"Thank you, Omby." Ozma then gestured for Betsy to approach. Also standing in front of the fairy princess was a man dressed in brilliant satins and velvets. A jewel-encrusted crown was on his head, and his hard and sullen face had a pair of eyes that seemed to glow like coals of fire as he turned curiously to Betsy.
The Oklahoma girl had to gasp a bit, seeing the ominous and unusual nature of this man's eyes, as Ozma began speaking. "Good morning, Betsy. Please explain the situation involving these witches you saw."
Betsy went into as much detail as she could about what she had seen. She spoke of the witch coven, their apparent leader, the kettle, the girl, and the magic spell they had cast upon her. She also described what effect this spell had on the girl.
When Betsy finished, Ozma turned to her other visitor. "Do you know anything about these witches, King Krewl?"
"I do, your majesty." Krewl replied. The tone of his voice was a bit severe as he spoke. "Those witches serve me."
Ozma arched an eyebrow, and Betsy's eyes widened as she turned to Krewl.
Krewl smiled slightly as his own glowing eyes met Betsy's. "Yes, they were dealing with a spy. We figured she came from one of the colder regions on the other side of the desert. Took the form of a lovely young princess. She nearly had us all fooled, too, but we sprung a trap and forced her to confess that she and her young accomplice sought to bring ruin not only to our kingdom of Jinxland, but to other communities in the Quadling Country as well."
Ozma nodded, considering Krewl's words. "And this…accomplice…?"
"His name is Pon." Krewl replied. "Posed as gardener to the former King of Jinxland, until that sneaky saboteur killed him. I had to step in and restore order. Those witches offered their help. I'm relieved to hear they finally captured the girl. That should make it easier for us to get our hands on the boy."
"But…that girl wasn't strugglin'." Betsy frowned in her confusion. "I would think she'd be kinda upset. Put up some kind of a fight or somethin'."
Krewl chuckled at this. "Did you not say that there was more than one witch there? She clearly resigned herself to defeat. When I go back, I intend to deal with her personally." He then turned his head toward Ozma. "I give you my word as the King of Jinxland. This spy will be no further trouble."
Ozma nodded in acknowledgement. "For the moment, I will take you at your word…but understand that we will be verifying your story. If any part of what you tell me is contrary to what Betsy has told us, you're going to be seeing me again, and I will not be alone. Even if we have to come down to Jinxland to question you personally."
Krewl nodded slowly, a slight smile on his face. "However you wish to make your inquiries, your highness, trust me." He glanced to Betsy. "I will be ready for them." His head turned back to Ozma. "For the moment, I must return to Jinxland. This news of the capture of the saboteur has made me eager to go back and question her. Personally."
Ozma nodded once. "You may go, then."
Krewl then offered a farewell bow to the fairy princess. "Your Highness." He similarly turned to bow to Betsy. "Little one." He then hurried himself out of the throne room.
Betsy turned back to Ozma. "She didn't look like any kinda enemy, your highness."
"Part of the reason why I called you in to join us, Betsy." Ozma replied. "Ordinarily, I would have Glinda called in, but she's busy with a special project. When next I see Glinda, however, we're going to have everything verified. Everything you saw, and that which Krewl told us."
Betsy frowned in her puzzlement. "How?"
"Glinda keeps a large volume of text called the Great Book of Records." Ozma explained. "Anything and everything that happens in Oz, and outside of it, is magically recorded upon pages of the book. As much as there are articles such as Ugu the shoemaker's overthrow of the Scarecrow's rule and Dorothy Gale's first visit to Oz, and her subsequent return home, there are also articles about the fall of the ancient Roman empire and the American Revolution."
Betsy looked surprised at this. "That must be a really big book!"
Ozma smiled in amusement. "The largest in existence, by Glinda's estimation." The fairy ruler, who was to all appearances a lovely human girl of a very young age, then rose from her throne and stepped over to Betsy, smiling. "So…how are you enjoying your stay in Oz so far, o' Queen of Diamonds?"
Betsy smiled. "Well…it's had its ups an' downs, but…least I'm still me. Some things still seem kinda weird t' me."
Ozma nodded amusedly. "Like a walking, talking scarecrow? Or the munchkins?"
Betsy giggled. "An' a man made o' tin."
"That Hip-po-gy-raf must have been quite a sight, too." Ozma noted.
"An' a ruler who looks like a lil' girl." Betsy then observed, gesturing to Ozma.
"Oh? Not used to seeing little girls as great leaders of an entire land?" Ozma quirked an eyebrow, although her smile remained. In the next moment, however, her form suddenly seemed to mature, within moments, in front of Betsy. Ozma now looked to be in her late forties, and she looked as beautiful as she was as a little girl. The Oklahoma girl's eyes widened in amazement upon seeing this. "Perhaps if I looked a little older?"
"Woooow…" was all Betsy could say.
Ozma giggled as her form diminished, restoring itself back to that of a little girl. "Neat trick, eh? Well…as you might expect, Betsy, I'm not human at all. I'm a fairy from the Forest of Burzee. I was part of a band of fairies led by my mother, a far more powerful fairy named Lurline. It was through her magic that Oz became what it is today. A place where no one needs to grow old, and where no one dies. When the Wicked Witches of the East and the West came to power, they managed to neutralize that spell. That's also why they were both so cruel to the people of Oz. They seemed to think the land's enchantment was a violation of the laws of nature that they, as witches, were duty-bound to protect. They wanted to show that even with Lurline's spell in place, people could, in fact, die. When they saw how much this intimidated the winkies and the munchkins, they decided to occupy those countries and begin their respective reigns of terror."
"Good thing they're both gone, then." Betsy soberly observed.
"Indeed!" A smile returned to Ozma's face. "I'd rather have a Queen of Diamonds than a Wicked Witch of the West, after all!"
"Where's your wings?" Betsy asked. "Aren't fairies s'posed t' have wings?"
Ozma giggled. "Well…my father was half-human, so I was born wingless. The fairies at Burzee don't treat me any differently, though. Most of them don't, anyway."
A knock was then heard at the throne room doors. Ozma recognized the knocking to be Omby's, and always just before he comes in to announce a visitor.
The soldier stepped in and performed his courteous bow, as per his standard procedure. "Your highness…Locasta, the Good Witch of the North."
"Ah, Locasta." She stepped down to stand next to Betsy, putting an arm around her shoulders, as the sweet-natured old woman in the white robes stepped in holding her long, golden staff topped with a stylized 'N'.
She performed a curtsey before the princess, and then spotted the Oklahoma girl. "Oh, Betsy…good thing you're here. You might as well hear this, too." The benevolent witch then turned her gaze to Ozma. "Your highness…it seems we have a potentially serious matter. One of the gillikins…a young boy…has gone missing."
Betsy began to feel a sense of dread when she heard this. For her sake, she hoped this was an entirely different situation.
"Do you know this boy's name?" Ozma asked. "It would make it easier to find out what happened to him."
"No need, your highness." Locasta replied. "I have a mirror which confirmed his current situation. His name is Woot, your highness. It would appear that he is currently…not himself. He is in the company of the large woman who was once the wife of the Yoop."
Woot.
Mrs. Yoop.
The secret was finally out…and knowing Mrs. Yoop, she would immediately believe that Betsy had broken her promise, even if she truthfully didn't.
Although she made every effort to refrain from looking gravely nervous, Betsy's skin went pale as Locasta and Ozma spoke further.
Dorothy and the other tutors finished speaking their vows aloud, and Headmistress Philomena…standing next to her as one of the two high authorities of the Learning Guild…motioned for everyone to lower into their seats. Dorothy and Philomena remained standing, although Dorothy stepped off to the side to allow the Headmistress to dominate the area.
"Tutors…" she turned to Dorothy. "…Ministress…" Her head turned back to the tutors. "…a radical development is about to be demonstrated to us, courtesy of two visitors waiting for us outside. I must ask that you give them both your complete and undivided attention. Tutors…Ministress…" She then gestured to the closed entrance door. "I give you the Highly-Magnified and Thoroughly-Educated Professor Wogglebug, who has one of our, uh…less-successful students with him."
The door opened from the other side, and the insectoid professor walked in. Habitually dressed in a highly-refined and gentlemanly outfit with a gray-spotted blue cravat beneath his chin, the Professor permitted a young munchkin boy to pass him and enter the room with frumpy steps. Stopping at the desk Dorothy was standing near, he leaped into a sitting position upon the desk, using the surface as his chair as he crossed his arms in front of him.
Although the tutors…Dorothy included…said nothing, they all recognized this boy to be Sprog, a disagreeable and obnoxious young boy who had gone through six tutors before Philomena deemed the boy unteachable. He had a cherubic face, and two wisps of the blond hair on his partially bald head swept upwards on top of his head, giving him the appearance of having horns. As always, Sprog was frowning, as he was always bitter when in the presence of tutors, although he was particularly bitter now because he was actually inside the one place in all of Munchkinland that he absolutely hated. He wore an outfit made up of a pair of tan slacks and suspenders which were slung over a blue and white-striped short-sleeved shirt, giving him the appearance of a member of the Lollipop Guild, although he was never a member of that group.
"Greetings and salutations, educators." The Professor began. He then turned to Dorothy. "And to our esteemed Ministress of Educational Affairs." He turned back to the others upon seeing Dorothy nod and smile in acknowledgement. "On this lovely morning, I have taken the distinct liberty of bringing before you one of your least-successful prospects in the time-honored pursuit of education, so that I may present an alternative and…remedial means of presenting the noble, but admittedly time-consuming pursuit of education itself."
Even Dorothy had to admit Sprog was a hard case, having actually witnessed other tutors try…and fail…to teach him any kind of knowledge he willingly held to. "How did you manage to even bring him here?" She asked.
Sprog snapped his head to Dorothy. "He said I'd get candy." He growled in a considerably nasty tone.
"You don't deserve candy." Dorothy shot back with a glare of her own.
"Whadda you know, ya fake munchkin?" Sprog countered.
"Now, now, Ministress…" The Wogglebug calmly remarked before Dorothy could attempt a comeback. "…I did indeed offer him such a thing, but I wished for the Learning Guild to pay witness to it."
Philomena looked a bit surprised. "You suggested…nay, demanded…an emergency meeting of our guild just so you could feed this…this brash, uncouth malcontent a piece of candy?"
"Indeed, Headmistress Philomena." He then produced a capsule from a pocket on his waistcoat, presenting it to the group, and even bringing it over for Dorothy to see. What she saw was a common capsule that had been coated with a layer of what looked like a syrup-like film. He then turned his attention to Sprog, who also looked at it curiously. "It should be quite tasty, too. This is sugar-coated."
"Gimme that!" Sprog grabbed the capsule and put it in his mouth. He actually tried chewing on the plastic covering, and although he did taste the sugary coating, he also tasted a far less sweet substance that dissolved quickly in his mouth.
"There, now, Sprog! Promise kept." The professor stood before the boy, who reacted as if he had gotten a taste of the worst food he could ever put in his mouth. It briefly sounded as if he were choking on the dissolved abundance of small white pellets the capsule released when he bit upon it.
The professor's tone, however remained somewhat analytical. "Now tell me, Sprog…did that not taste good?"
Sprog tried spitting it out, but he produced nothing but his own phlegm. The pellets had completely dissolved, and his brain felt funny as he spoke. "Pheaugh! My…my sensitive tastebuds vehemently disagreed with this vile substance!"
The eyes of each and every tutor, the Headmistress, both Vice Headmistresses(and it should be noted here that Philomena did allow Summa to keep her job despite her confession), and the Ministress were boggling when they heard these sophisticated words coming out of the least-likely to have been able to even pronounce them correctly.
"Well, if you permitted me to explain, my dear Sprog, you would know that a capsule is not bitten open, but is rather to be swallowed." The professor looked to Summa. "I believe the boy will require a bit of water, if you please."
Summa looked to Philomena, who was still aghast at the boy's response. A part of her wondered if Sprog had been coached in advance as she nodded to Summa, who rose from her seat to acquire the needed cup of water.
Magna Cumlaude, however, needed a little more convincing. "Sprog…how are you feeling?"
"Betrayed!" Sprog growled, eliciting a round of gasps. "I am surmising the distinct impression that I have been swindled! I am considerably disappointed!"
"Now, now…let me make it up to you, Sprog." The insectoid professor produced another pill, no different in appearance from the last. "Here now. Swallow this one."
Sprog, however, was hesitant to open his mouth. He did not want to have to deal with that horrible taste again.
"All you will acknowledge is the sugary coating." The professor assured. "Come now, down the hatch."
Ermengarde, however, rose from her seat. Dorothy knew that she was among the tutors who had unsuccessfully tried to tutor the boy. "Hey, Sproggo!" She smirked as she spoke. Clearly, she thought the time was right for payback after suffering the grief of his retaliations. "What's sixteen times fifty-four divided by twenty-five minus fifteen plus eighty?"
"I bear no such knowledge!" Sprog shouted. Fortunately, the professor was able to toss the capsule into the boy's mouth as he shouted. His tongue acknowledged the sugar coating.
Only this time, he swallowed it whole.
Once again, his brain felt funny. The boy looked at Ermengarde in a confused way. "Repeat those figures for me?"
Ermengarde looked surprised at this. "Sixteen times fifty-four divided by twenty-five minus fifteen plus eighty."
After a moment, Sprog shrugged, speaking the answer as if it were perfectly obvious. "Ninety-nine point fifty-six."
Gasps were louder now, and Ermengarde was utterly speechless.
The professor turned his head to Philomena. "He did respond correctly, did he not?"
Philomena, still looking entirely surprised, nodded slowly. "Every number of it."
Dorothy had to rise from her seat to approach the professor. "Wait a minute…let me see if I comprehend this correctly, professor. Did you educate Sprog just by having him swallow a capsule?"
"Precisely, Ministress." The professor then produced a third capsule. "Behold, fellow educators…the instrument which shall forever put the conventional and time-consuming process of education to rest at long last! I give you…the School Pill!" He held it forward for all to see.
Sprog looked curious. "What subject is that, Professor?"
"I do believe this one is a grammar Pill." The Wogglebug replied. "The ones I gave you were for vocabulary, and for mathematics. If you wished to spell out the words you used, you would require a Spelling Pill. I suppose you could supplement a touch of grammar with your vocabulary, however." The professor then tossed Sprog the pill, which he swallowed.
Dorothy began to realize what this could mean. She was the first person to speak of it as it gradually dawned on the rest of the tutors…and the Headmistresses…in the room. "Professor…I can see the brilliance in this development, but…may I ask why this was made?"
"In my observations around Munchkinland…indeed, all over the land…there have been communities who have attempted education, but none have been as eloquent and as thorough in its educational disciplines as this very community." The professor explained. "However, while I cannot say this is not a physically active community, I do believe its citizens could do with more, shall we say, recreational activities. Introducing the School Pills into one's upbringing relinquishes the need for active study in favor of the beneficial calisthenics provided by more…athletic activity. A delicate balancing of personal development is henceforth achieved."
"But…if it works as well as it apparently does…" Philomena noted. "…then that would render tutoring practices obsolete, wouldn't it? There would be no need for a Learning Guild anymore."
"Not necessarily." The professor responded. "An administrative body can conceivably remain, if only to regulate the dispensation of knowledge. However, I do agree that you would need to, uh, rather radically diminish your complement of tutors. I fancy perhaps…" He then gestured to Dorothy. "…the Ministress of Educational Affairs should be a deciding factor in an appropriate School Pill regimen?"
At this point, Dorothy began to see that signs were manifesting which made it entirely apparent that this chapter in her life in Oz…her time spent as a member of the Learning Guild…needed to come to an end, much as she was hesitant to let it go. The development of the School Pill, however, gave her new status very little in the way of necessity. Further, she felt she would be robbing someone far more deserving of such a responsibility. She did not want to see Philomena's job sacrificed as a result of this development.
"Actually, professor…" Dorothy slowly began. "…if…anyone were more deserving of such an important responsibility, I think my status should pass to Headmistress…or rather, Ministress…Philomena H. Dee. Her Vice Headmistresses can assist in preparing an appropriate School Pill regimen."
Gasps and murmurs of disbelief could now be heard from the tutors they faced. Headmistress Philomena was particularly surprised, as were the Vice Headmistresses.
Philomena hurried over to speak in confidence with Dorothy. "Are you positively certain, Dorothy dear? If you're worried about my being released as a Headmistress…"
"You've been at this responsibility longer than I have, Ministress Philomena. You practically fought to establish this guild. I can't see you abandon it on account of someone like me." Dorothy resolutely interjected, smiling. "I'll see Mayor Boq later today and let him know about the handover."
"But…what about you, dear?" Philomena asked, genuinely concerned.
Dorothy shrugged. "I'll think about it tonight over a bowl of chickenstalk broth."
"You know, Dorothy…" Philomena ventured her thinking openly. "…it is entirely possible that things could go wrong. A side effect, or something. If these School Pills are not completely foolproof…"
"…then you can always re-form the guild." Dorothy reasoned. "If you want my advice, Ministress, give it at least a year. If you only have one or two who have problems with the School Pills, you can have either Summa or Magna tutor them the way we always have been doing. But if it is as good as the Professor has demonstrated…and I have a feeling it will be…then we may have to accept that with the exception of you and the Vice Headmistresses, this guild may need to disband."
Magna had a hand up to get the Professor's attention, and the insectoid educator turned to her as the room began to quiet down. "Yes, Vice Headmistress?"
"Who, exactly, made these School Pills?" Magna asked.
"Well…while I was the one who seeded the idea in the interest of balancing physical development with the pursuit of knowledge, as I had mentioned, the actual work that went into the cultivation of this development was primarily orchestrated by the great and powerful Wizard of Oz himself, with resource assistance from Glinda, providing that infallible and…rather massive volume of historical text she has in her possession." The Professor answered. "He's becoming quite adept in the use of magical willworking, I must say. I suspect that within a shorter period of time than one might expect, Glinda will no longer need to refer to Mr. Diggs as a mere apprentice."
Dorothy had to smile at this revelation. She had a feeling the use of magic was involved, and if a lot of the magic came from him, then he was clearly on the way to becoming a true wizard, if he wasn't one already.
Some tutors actually responded with a sense of relief. "Well…I suppose this gives me more time to concentrate on the garden I'm developing…"
Others, however, could not help but despair over the development. "And I was having so much fun using those flash cards with Horatio! He learned so much from them!"
Although Summa obviously felt a little relieved for the fact that she would not need to actually tutor a child as per her penance, she could not help but speak out in support of those who were saddened by the guild's apparently imminent end. "Maybe we could create a kind of backup resource? Keep this place open for supplemental learning? Have some of us volunteer to attend on a rotational basis?"
Philomena raised her hands for both attention and silence, stepping to the center of the room once more. "Your suggestions and ideas will of course be noted and given the most serious consideration, fellow tutors. As many of you might suspect, I too feel a great sense of hesitance in downsizing our association and our duties to the people of Munchkinland. However…there is one thing about this development that has changed nothing, and that is the bonds of fellowship we have established in our time together as a guild. Far more than a handful of our students have advanced themselves, educationally, through our good work. However, I must also acquiesce to the wisdom of the esteemed professor as well. Just looking at some of the munchkins, I can clearly see the need in balancing out physical development, as well as educational development. It is, as you might expect, far easier to gorge on snacks while solving arithmetic problems as it is to engage in the rigors of calisthenics."
Many munchkins nodded in agreement with this, some of them feeling a bit shameful.
Philomena then turned to the professor. "I imagine more than a handful of these pills are ready for deployment?"
"Actually, Oscar could use a bit more time to replicate and amass." The professor replied. "This should leave you adequate time to re-structure things. I can report unto you at a time when we feel enough school pills have been gathered, in all subjects of developmental importance, to be able to begin their deployment."
"Say…what about a weekly luncheon? Just between us all?" Ermengarde suggested aloud. "Just to keep our association strong. Just because the guild is changing doesn't mean we need to end our friendships, right?
Many nods and murmurs of full agreement came in the wake of this suggestion.
One, however, offered a caveat. "Only if Miss Dorothy keeps bringing her Blue Harvest Porridge."
Dorothy giggled along with everyone else, and the round-bodied munchkin nodded. "You can count on that, Mellie."
Summa spoke once again. "Maybe we could, uh…combine the two? I mean, both physical and educational development? All in one place?"
Magna, however, noted a problem with this. "I don't think we have the space here to include anything more than a jumprope."
"Agreed, but…perhaps a more spacious plot can be established to create one?" The professor offered. "A hub, so to speak, for all personal development? Perhaps even a College of our very own?"
"Hmmm…" Philomena thought on this. "…a College of…Educational…and Athletic…Perfection?"
"Well, I would think that your guild has made the educational process an art form." The professor observed. "Other, more leisurely arts could be applied there as well. Other than what the School Pills provide, of course."
"We can establish the rotation of tutors I mentioned there as well." Summa offered.
"Sounds positively splendid!" The professor happily responded. "Indeed, I am quite relieved that we are coming to such a synergy on this. We should coordinate a floor plan and begin development at once, should we wish to have this place ready in time to begin deployment of the school pills."
"My husband's a carpenter, professor." Millie offered. "He makes very sturdy foundations with the wood he regularly gathers."
Tally, another tutor, spoke out as well. "My brother makes great furniture pieces as well!"
Ermengarde was the next to speak. "I can help you draw out the floor plan, if you like, professor."
The rest of the tutors were now in a cacophany of offerings, and the professor looked to be entirely overwhelmed by the show of support as Philomena and Dorothy watched with great satisfaction.
Philomena then brought her mouth near Dorothy's ear. "Step outside with me a moment, Miss Dorothy?"
The former Ministress nodded, and followed Philomena outside as the professor continued to try and sort out the offerings made by the other tutors. Once they were beyond the front door of the Learning Guild's headquarters, the new Ministress turned to Dorothy.
"I remember the day I reminded you that you needed to honor your commitment to us as if it had happened yesterday, my dear Dorothy." Philomena began. "For you to so suddenly give up a title the Mayor himself conferred upon you, I cannot help but wonder if you are thinking of returning to the princess for the sake of having yourself restored."
Dorothy's eyes lowered thoughtfully. "Well…to be honest, I…haven't really thought on that just yet."
Philomena's hands then grasped Dorothy's arms. "Oh, but why would you need to, though? You've developed so wonderfully these past two years since your transformation, it's as if you should have been born to be among us munchkins."
Dorothy smiled in her deep thought. "Boq sure thinks so."
"Indeed." Philomena replied, her tone becoming a little more authoritative as she guided Dorothy further away from the guild headquarters, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "I can see it in your eyes, my dear. Your widely-acknowledged enjoyment of our culture and our way of life cannot be disputed, Miss Dorothy. Not even by you. I think you should accept the plainly obvious fact. You are one of us now. As much of a munchkin as you possibly can be."
Perhaps because of Philomena's tone, Dorothy found herself lost in indecision as they walked. "Well…"
"Oh, Dorothy. What possible hesitation could there be?" Philomena reasoned as they continued to move. "Does it not fill you with giddy joy to prepare foods as eagerly as you do? To share in the exchange of gossip? To eagerly work as diligently as we do? What's more, if I understand what I have heard correctly, your own Aunt and Uncle have even been at peace with what you have become, have they not?"
"Yes, but…"
"This is not an opportunity that could be embraced so comfortably by any of human birth, Miss Dorothy." Philomena continued as they passed among crowds of munchkin citizens, many of them acknowledging and waving to Dorothy as they passed. "Has human history not shown a propensity for the less scrupulous of humans to brashly attempt dominance? To be, for lack of a better word, overbearing? You have no such traits, Miss Dorothy. You are as humble a soul as I have ever seen in one born a human, particularly for your justified refusal to take credit for the deaths of those horrible witches, which I am well aware were circumstantial incidents. This humility has also quite clearly transitioned to your munchkin life, given your willingness to surrender the exalted title of Ministress to one such as I. While humankind must always stand taller than munchkins as a natural rule, does it not reflect your natural sense of humility better, being the way you are now?"
By now, Philomena had led Dorothy to a storefront, where a mirror could be seen sitting behind a large glass pane. The new Ministress gestured to the mirror as she finished her previous question, stepping behind her and placing her arms around her body. She positioned her head next to Dorothy's as the former human girl gazed upon her own reflection thoughtfully.
Philomena squeezed Dorothy affectionately as she spoke. "Look upon yourself, dear. So endearingly round. So blissfully content. You have spent two years among us, and I am certain you can add a great many more years to your time. Can you not see the possibilities that lie in a decision to continue being one of us for the rest of your life, Miss Dorothy?"
As Philomena spoke, Dorothy traced the fingers of her pudgy hand upon her face, feeling along the pale skin, and turning her head to the sides to see the reflections of her spiral sideburns on either side of her face, and the lovely curls adorning her head. She looked down upon her blue and white dress, a gift from a benefactor she had yet to discover the identity of, and she touched the end of her knobby nose in her self-assessment.
Dorothy spoke softly as she began to speak. "It's true. I…I have thought about this life…and…how much I really do love it…with all my heart…"
"And it never bothers you to have to look up to a human, nor anyone taller than you, does it?" Philomena asked, still holding to Dorothy from behind. "You feel the humility more than any human could. You're reminded of it. Our quaint lifestyle is such a natural thing for someone like you, Miss Dorothy. Look upon yourself again, now. Fill your Ministress with pride. Tell yourself what you are now. Believe every word of it."
She was within moments of doing exactly what she was instructed to do. I am a munchkin. These were the words Philomena expected to hear.
But something was preventing her from saying them, and she had to explain why.
"Neither of us can deny what Sprog had said though, even if he was being rude." Dorothy explained as she turned to the new Ministress. "I'm sure he's not the only one, either, to call me a fake munchkin."
"Oh, but Dorothy…Miss Dorothy…you speak of an uncouth malcontent!" Philomena reasoned.
"You can't say he's wrong, though." Dorothy countered. "Maybe you're right. Maybe in time, people who might treat me with any kind of spite because I was given a life I was never born with might come to accept me, but I have a feeling there's always going to be someone else who will not be so eager to believe that I could truly be a munchkin. Shakespeare said it best, Ministress. 'To thine ownself be true'. Can you truthfully say that this really is the real me?"
Philomena's answer was clear as she stared into Dorothy's eyes with conviction. "Yes, Miss Dorothy. In fact, I put to you that while you were not born as one of us, you can truthfully think of this as a new chapter in your existence. One in which your body matches your nature, no matter what others may think."
Philomena then placed her hands upon both sides of Dorothy's cheeks, cradling the unsure munchkin's chin in the new Ministress's hands. The fact that Philomena was wearing a very pleasant perfume scent that was unique to Munchkinland did not make this moment any easier for Dorothy to counteract.
"Please, Miss Dorothy." Philomena softly remarked. "Bring yourself to accept this. Consider that in the greek language, your name is derived from the word 'Dorothea', and this word translates to 'God's gift'. You have gifted us, even by way of circumstance, with liberation from the tyranny of a wicked witch. This is our gift to you in return."
"But I…I only accepted it to fulfill an oath." Dorothy softly explained. "It was the right thing to do."
Philomena nodded, still cradling Dorothy's chin. "I know. I know, dear…and it was at my request, as well. In so doing, you have passed a test in and of itself with flying colors. Now I absolutely believe that you must now completely embrace the munchkin you could be for the rest of your life."
Dorothy's eyes lowered thoughtfully, even as her chin remained in the hands of the munchkin Ministress.
"Do you not trust in the judgment of your Ministress of Educational Affairs, Miss Dorothy?" Philomena then asked. "Tell me what you are."
Dorothy's body began to tremble now. "I…"
"Yes?"
Dorothy swallowed hard before she spoke. "…I am a munchkin."
Philomena nodded. "Say it again." The Ministress pushed a curl that had fallen between Dorothy's eyes to the side. "Tell me what you are, Miss Dorothy."
"I am a munchkin."
"And again." Philomena's tone was not harsh, but it was a little more authoritative now. "You deserve our gift. Tell me what you are."
Dorothy smiled now, her eyes watering a bit. "I am a munchkin."
Philomena smiled back now, kissing Dorothy tenderly on her forehead. "My dear, sweet Miss Dorothy. Go on home now. Indulge in the enjoyment of preparing yourself a delicious lunch while I go back in and see what kinds of ideas have been developed around this College idea of ours."
The Ministress finally released Dorothy's chin, and the former human began to step away, her thoughtful smile still on her face as she wiped a fallen tear. "I'll see you later, Ministress."
Now it should be noted, dear reader, that Philomena had no actual talent in hypnosis! It was more in the way she had impressed upon young Dorothy the potent logic in convincing her to remain a small, but very talented and cute munchkin despite the fulfilling of her Learning Guild oath. The former Kansas girl had been given quite a bit to think about…and for the moment, she seemed entirely convinced of the honest truth in the logic of the new Ministress.
She had walked the entire way from the Learning Guild headquarters locale to that of the home Locasta had given her, where Toto naturally waited for Dorothy's return. Remembering that she had left Jinjur there, she had expected to see the small vial on one of the house's tables, rejected in favor of Jinjur's refusal to give Boq a second chance.
But the vial was nowhere to be seen. She had even checked the hidden passage beneath the house. It was completely gone.
Dorothy had to smile when she realized what that meant.
She didn't immediately begin making any lunch as she returned from the hidden passage. Dorothy still had Philomena's words lingering in her head. She instead moved her most comfortable chair up by the large window by the front door and settled into it, allowing Toto to leap into her lap as well.
She then stared out the window, watching various munchkins go about their business.
Toto looked to her curiously. When Dorothy noticed this, her eyes stared right back at him thoughtfully.
She ran a hand over the black fur on his head tenderly. "Is this the real me, Toto? Have I finally found myself?"
Dorothy rose out of the seat, and then headed for the large mirror she remembered first seeing herself in when Locasta…as "Auntie Lo"…had first changed her into a munchkin form so she could avoid the notice of the winged monkeys looking for her at the urging of the last wicked ruler of Oz. She stepped in close enough to be able to see a perfectly-framed semblance of herself, pale skin, spiraling sideburns, round body and all. Here, it seemed, she was able to think a little more clearly on what Philomena had said.
She could certainly remain this way, Dorothy began considering. She had proven herself capable of living among the munchkins as one of them. She had become quite talented not only in being able to teach educational lessons to the young, but also in cultivating a great many foods, and growing the many kinds of crops necessary to make those foods. She could bring herself into the conversational circles of the socialites, armed with local knowledge of her own. In the beginning, she was more quiet. More of a listener than a responder. Now, she could initiate quite a bit of gossip herself, having become an active part of the social elite. Her cooking talents certainly helped her advance within these circles, too, having provided many foods on those occasions when an open breakfast, an open lunch, or an open dinner was to be served.
But within moments, things seemed to have changed. Contrary to what Philomena had warned, she did not doubt…particularly with Glinda being a participant in its cultivation…that the school pills Oscar developed would dramatically change the ways and means of developing an education not just in Munchkinland, but anywhere in Oz as well. She suspected that once the College had come to life, it would become a very popular place, and the primary center of learning for the land, if not just Munchkinland.
And why did she initially accept the notion of becoming a munchkin? To honor the oath she had made. Her time and tutoring with Tula was done, and her oath was fulfilled. She could be held to her oath no further. She remembered Ozma's words as if she had said them yesterday.
But then, there was the offer Boq had made. Serving as the central authority for any and all educational matters. A status higher than that of the Headmistress herself. A status clearly born of Boq's interest in Dorothy herself.
A status Dorothy had just surrendered, however, out of respect to Philomena H. Dee.
And then, there was Boq. The spiritually brave and gentlemanly Mayor of Munchkinland. A munchkin so charming, he had won over both Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. A lonely man still hurting over tragedies and mistakes in his past, yet never completely surrendering hope. Always holding on. It was no surprise, seeing as how he had been exercising this sense of perseverance while a great many munchkins were suffering and dying around him.
But as much as Dorothy would have been just as content to have drank the small vial Ozma had given her, and then paying Boq a visit to reveal that she was now old enough to accept a marriage proposal, she had already surrendered that possibility to someone he knew much longer than he had known Dorothy.
Perhaps towards the end of the week, she thought to herself, Dorothy would make a decision. To abandon humanity for the rest of her life, or to return to it.
For the moment, she finally stepped away from the mirror and went to the kitchen area to fix something up for lunch. So many possibilities, Dorothy thought. All those exotic dishes she had learned to make.
And yet still, even in Oz, she could toast up a slice of bread, and smear a generous portion of peanut butter, and then coat that with a layer of jelly.
Just like she used to do back in Kansas.
The peanut butter & jelly sandwich she had made, as a result of this thinking, tasted just as good as those her Aunt Em had made for her.
Only Dorothy, being the munchkin she now was, had five similar sandwiches prepared as well, in case one was not enough to satisfy munchkin hunger.
"What in the world makes you think that he actually wishes to remain this way, Betsy?" Locasta asked the Oklahoma girl, aghast at the full explanation she finally found the strength to share.
Even the princess Ozma had a very wary expression on her face as she spoke. "Betsy…in all honestly, you don't know the past history of yookoohoos like we do. Theirs is a selfish vanity which had been inflicted upon the people of Oz a great many years ago. Long before the witch-sisters conquered the east and west lands."
"That is part of why there are so few of them left, dear." Locasta reasoned. "Glinda was forced to deal with them in a manner she was initially hesitant to perform. King Pastoria was a bit, shall we say, rash in his decisions back then, but we knew he was at least thinking of the safety of the people of Oz, many of whom had been taken to be constantly-changing possessions of the yookoohoos."
Betsy looked a little horrified over what Locasta had said about the Good Witch of the South. "Glinda didn't kill them, did she?"
"Oh, dear me, no." Locasta clarified. "She had actually set most of the yookoohoos against each other. Used their penchant for vanity as a means to set off a kind of civil war. Following this war, the few surviving yookoohoos scattered. Only two were so resolute as to remain within Oz, and while they both live quite far from each other, they remain within the boundaries of the Gillikin Country to this very day."
"Who was the oth'r one?" Betsy asked.
"That would be Reera the Red." Locasta replied. "Reera, however, has mostly kept to herself, preferring solitude. As most gillikins know of the stories about her, and what she is capable of doing, they all stay away from that area, and she has never been any real trouble."
"Does she live by herself, though?" Betsy inquired.
"Oh, no. Not at all, in fact." Locasta answered. "Reera has several pets that she routinely cares for. Not the most wholesome of beasts, but pets nevertheless."
"Whereas Mrs. Yoop had no one b'fore she met Woot." Betsy reasoned. "An' Woot lost his mom an' dad to th' Wicked Witch of th' East. They need each oth'r, an' Woot told me he's very happy livin' with Mrs. Yoop."
"Do you know that yookoohoos like Mrs. Yoop use an enchantment which channels a powerful sense of euphoria into their victims?" Ozma remarked. "Makes them more…agreeable."
"Yes, I know. She hit me with it, too, when we were there." Betsy replied. "But if she really wanted me t' stay, wouldn't I still be there? Instead o' here?" The Oklahoma girl stepped in closer to the fairy princess. "Ozma…I was there. You weren't. Okay…y' told me 'bout th' past. I get that. Y' say those yookoohoos were bad back then, but what about now? B'sides…it's not like she pulled us into her home. We thought that castle was empty, so we went in t' get out o' that big ol' rainstorm we got caught in."
Ozma lowered her head and sighed. She was, after all, the one who generated those torrents of rain to begin with for agriculture's sake. Locasta glanced at Ozma, knowing this.
But Locasta had something else on her mind. "Be that as it may, I maintain that my own concern is for Mrs. Yoop's initiative alone. From what I know of yookoohoos, they don't exactly ask permission to change someone."
"Woot told me himself. He likes bein' a green monkey." Betsy reasoned. "He knows it makes Mrs. Yoop happy, an' he…well, y' could say he's got one o' those, uh…fost'rs."
Locasta arched an eyebrow, smiling a bit. "You think Mrs. Yoop would want to be a foster parent, Betsy?"
"Woot thinks so." Betsy countered. "An' I b'lieve him."
Ozma looked to the white-robed spellcaster. "As the Good Witch of the North, I think the decision should be yours, Locasta."
The old witch gave everything that she heard a long moment of quiet consideration, weighing out all the pros and the cons. She started to reach for her hat, knowing that she could change it into a slate which provided written advice, but Locasta decided against it, having a better idea.
She noted that Betsy looked very, very concerned for what the outcome would be. Ultimately, the Good Witch of the North figured that the judgment she was about to make would be as fair a response as she could come up with.
Locasta stepped up close to Betsy before sharing it. "Although I'm sure you understand that we cannot neglect what happened in the past, Betsy, I also trust your own convictions and I very much appreciate you sharing them with us. Two years ago, something which had been stolen from me was found. It's a mirror which, while not as powerful as Ozma's Magic Picture, provides the same benefit. I can see anyone or anything anywhere, at any time, providing I know the name. Whoever is being watched would have no knowledge that they are being observed. That is exactly what I am going to do with Woot and Mrs. Yoop. I'm going to observe their time together on a daily basis for about a week, maybe two. If I see anything that is not entirely benign or peaceful, I hope you will understand that we may want to take action to end the association, Betsy."
"You understand, too, that there is always the possibility that Glinda will find out about this as well." Ozma then warned. "She particularly dislikes transformation magic. If she finds out what happened to Woot, and trust me when I say that she could, she may not be as forgiving."
Betsy lowered her head a little. It wasn't the kind of response she was hoping for, but she figured that Woot would at least have someone making sure he would be safe. As much as she wanted to say something about her promise to Mrs. Yoop, she kept quiet about it. Betsy had to remind herself, anyway, that it was not because of her that their privacy had been compromised.
She still hoped, for her own sake, that there would be no trouble.
Seeing Betsy's reaction, Ozma stepped over to the Magic Picture. "Show me Mrs. Yoop."
All eyes in the room turned to the picture once the neutral image dissolved, and then sharpened an image of Mrs. Yoop. She was in her study, by herself, reading a book. Upon the spine of the book were the words The Picture of Dorian Gray.
"Heh. Fitting choice of literature for a yookoohoo." Locasta mused.
"Magic Picture…" Ozma then remarked. "…show me Woot."
They next saw the green monkey Woot had become swinging and running about throughout the castle. Just as Betsy had said, he looked quite content, and he had no sense of despair on his simian face whatsoever.
Ozma nodded as they watched him move about. "This is…promising. Usually, when you've been hit by a yookoohoo's euphoric effect, they just sort of drift. Woot doesn't look like he's under the influence of that magic."
Locasta nodded in agreement. "It may be just as Betsy says, your highness. I'll still be watching them for a week, but if I see moments similar to this one in that time, then I am prepared to consider leaving the both of them to their mutual contentment."
Ozma rendered the picture neutral with a wave of her hand. "Very well, Locasta. I will defer to your wisdom on this matter."
The Good Witch of the North turned to Betsy. "Please trust that it is because of our past history with the yookoohoos that it must be this way, Betsy dear. I, for one, greatly hope that you are ultimately proven correct in your beliefs."
Betsy nodded despite her obvious worries. "So do I, Locasta."
"Should matters prove otherwise, we will do what we can to see that you are protected." Ozma assured. "Even if I have to have Glinda herself see to your safety."
Betsy bowed respectfully. "Thank you, your highness."
Ozma dismissed them both, and Betsy returned to Hank, who was still waiting outside. Mounting the mule, the Oklahoma girl was lost in thought as her steed began clopping towards the Winkie Country at a casual pace. She could not help but worry not only for Woot and Mrs. Yoop, but also the situation she and Hank had witnessed involving the witches.
There was something about the visitor, Krewl, that she just didn't trust. She shared this much with Hank as they continued their progress towards the tin palace.
"I guess only time will tell, Betsy." was Hank's response to the Oklahoma girl's concerns.