Author's Note

Hello all! I'll be posting a bit more in the coming days/weeks... and I'm hoping to give you all a great Christmas present - a completed story! I've got a bit more to go, and I won't be on holiday yet for another two weeks, but I'm really pushing to give you guys what you've been waiting for.

Cheers - WR

Chapter Thirteen

DG's mind had been wholly occupied with outfoxing their newest enemies and had taken to locking herself into the library for hours of the day, alternating between research and practical application of her light until she very nearly collapsed from exhaustion. Whilst Wyatt was drifting off leagues to the south, DG mirrored her spouse, having dozed off herself while flitting through a heavy tome of Ozian history. The massive volume, dusty with annuals of abandonment within the royal library, was still perched precariously on her trouser-clad lap as she snoozed, her cheek resting on her hand as if she had fallen asleep while gazing absently at the fire that still crackled in the grate off to her left. Her enchanted slippers had been discarded at some time after the Princess had taken to the overstuffed chair and had been carefully pushed underneath the seat. Her bare feet flexed in her sleep, digging deeper into the cushion when her expression darkened, and apart from DG's furrowed brow, which denoted a certain amount of inner tumult, the Princess was the picture of comfortable repose. From the soft creamed colored sweater that framed her in a warm glow to the relaxed position she and her book maintained, the Princess inspired a certain amount of quietude in her state and had been left to doze by her ever-watchful guard, who stood sentry outside the door in case anyone should try to disturb her. Gates had not counted on Azkadellia, however, and allowed her past only to groan internally when the Princess closed the door behind her rather abruptly, causing DG to jump with a start, and the book in her lap to fall to the floor with a resounding clap.

DG spun around in her seat, craning her neck around the edge of the seat to stare wide-eyed at her intruder, finding Azkadellia standing just before the door, smirking wickedly. "Seriously Az, are you sure it was just Malfalba that was sadistic? Or did you provide your own input from time to time?"

Azkadellia pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose as she gave DG a simpering smile, her eyes narrowed in sisterly irritation at her sister's jab. "Just thought you needed a wake-up call, is all." Azkadellia replied sweetly when her face cleared, and she added as she swept around DG's seat to the chaise directly opposite her, "How's the studying going? Learning anything new about Ozian history?"

DG inched forward in her seat and stretched down to retrieve the book from the floor, answering all the while with a sigh, "Oh sure. I learned that reading Ozian history makes for a better sedative than any cup of chamomile. I don't think I got past one chapter before I fell asleep. Thanks for assigning the light reading, sis."

Azkadellia smirked while she picked at her dress, asking wordlessly, her gaze still cautiously turned away from DG, "Did you manage to find clues as to how we're being watched? Anything from Ozma or before?"

DG appeared to resume her reading, answering back, her voice grumbling quietly in her sister's head, "No, I didn't. Most of these books paint an obnoxiously rosy picture of Ozian history, like nothing bad has ever happened here. Is there a restricted section, or something, where I might learn more about Ozma's enemies?"

DG's eyes lifted from the page momentarily as Azkadellia stretched leisurely, rising from her seat at the end of her stretch to stroll over to a shelf, where she scanned slowly. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled the book with relish, and spun on her heel to face her sister, announcing with almost wicked sadism, "Well, if you're all done with that one, try this one next. True light reading this time. You're welcome." In DG's head she added thoughtfully, "I don't know why I didn't think of it before. No one has ever been too fond of pointing out the negative points in our history, except maybe to scare the pants off a squirrely kid."

DG took the small book from her sister's hands, skeptical eyebrow raised, and she laughed when she read the title. Printed in archaic, golden letters above a faded cartoonish illustration of their forebearer cowering in the shadow of a one-eyed, gruesome looking witch, read "A Fairy's Tales: Witches, Wizards, and Wars of the Outer Zone."

"Fairy tales, Az? Really?" DG scoffed outwardly while trading the more massive volume with her sister.

Azkadellia graciously accepted the abandoned tome and turned to redeposit it on the shelf, replying with a dry laugh, "Fairy tales are no joke, little sister. Tutor never let me anywhere near them until I'd mastered some of the basic pictograms of the ancients." She frowned at the thought and glanced at her sister before muttering, "Not that it did me any good though."

Azkadellia dropped back down on the chaise with a heavy sigh, giving DG the chance to answer sadly, "Yeah, I probably could have used a little scaring before I dragged you into that creepy cave." Her eyes turned down onto the book now in her hands, and a worried expression clouded her otherwise glowing face when she offered silently, "I just hope it's not too late this time. Thanks Az."

DG's eyes flicked up shyly on Azkadelia, noting how her hand rested contentedly on her modestly round belly, encased in the pale green silk of her sister's dress. Her own hand fell on her own small mound, and she let out a choppy sigh. Azkadelia offered DG a sympathetic smile, answering audibly, "You've really got to stop thinking about that. Ancient history, little sister."

DG smiled weakly at her sister before her eyes returned to the page and she asked wordlessly, "So, ready for a little practical magic, sis?"

Azkadelia let out a long, leisurely yawn, answering in almost a whisper in DG's mind, "Give it a minute, okay little sister? I'd like my personal pillow to get here first."

DG cleared her throat in response while she continued to glance at the book her sister had assigned, pausing momentarily on an illustration of Ozma, standing before what appeared to be an ornately framed mirror. The queen, appearing no older than her own sister in the picture, mesmerized DG even in this format, so one dimensional and small. Her long, golden hair trailed behind her luxuriously, and her voluminous gown billowed about her bare feet like a soft cloud. A dreamlike expression painted the woman's face, and she gazed forward at the frame, her graceful fingers barely touching the gilded edge as she examined the image before her. As beautiful as the woman in the image was, she was only a shadow of the woman that DG had met before, DG decided, and she flipped the page again, determined to study only the pictures contained within the book while she waited for Azkadellia and who she could only assume was Glitch.

The book was a veritable example of vintage Ozian illustrative art, reminiscent of the Otherside's art deco period. Benevolent rulers and other bastions of light in Ozian history were portrayed in a complementary, if not almost glamorous light, while villains were given an almost comical treatment with their negative and sometimes gruesome features. Ozma was featured more than most, save Glenda herself, and was often pictured before the same gilded mirror. At times she faced the reader, almost meeting DG's eyes from the other side page, but otherwise, she studied the image behind the frame. As odd as it seemed to the young princess, she shrugged it away for the time being, deciding that it must have been a preference of the illustrator or some storytelling tool of the author rather than a message to be decoded. At any rate, if it was some secret message, it was one that would have to wait until after DG's practical lessons.

DG frowned at this thought, not relishing the drain it would cause, and she shut the book firmly, causing dust to fly into her face. DG coughed loudly as she threw her head back, and grunted in annoyance when she recovered, grumbling to Az, "Do you think someone could dust these books? They're really becoming a hazard to my health!"

Azkadellia opened her mouth to reply, but stopped short as the door swung open, and a harried advisor rushed in. Judging from Ambrose's unruly appearance, from wild, unkempt curls, to his dress shirt hanging half-untucked from his pants, DG guessed that he was more Glitch today than not and smiled devilishly at her friend as he collapsed on the couch next to her sister.

"Sorry love, got sidetracked in my workshop." Glitch breathed as he opened his arm to Azkadellia, who shrugged noncommittally before accepting his offer and laying into the crook of his arm.

"Whatcha doin', Glitch? Solving more of life's mysteries with another dangerous invention?" DG joked, impish grin widening on her face.

Ambrose smirked back bashfully, his dimpled face reddening slightly when he replied with modesty, "Oh no, just a little dohicky I've been working up for the new princesses. Nothing that a little babe couldn't handle," He paused when DG and Azkadellia's faces brightened in interest, and he blustered, "but no more questions, it's a surprise!"

DG's face fell in disappointment and she silently pouted at Ambrose, only to be met with a resolute turn of the advisor's head, signaling that DG's pleas would fall on deaf ears. DG sighed in defeat and turned back to her book, noting yet another image of the late Queen, before clearing her throat suggestively in her sister's direction. Azkadellia yawned loudly in an otherwise silent reply to her sister, at which point DG closed her book and allowed her eyes to fall closed, her concentration turning instead to the breath moving in and out of her chest. Minutes ticked by in relative silence while DG focused her energy, allowing the room around her to slowly fade away, until all DG heard was the drumming of her own heart and the steady movement of her lungs as they took in air. When the pace of her heart's rhythm slowed, DG began to mutter wordlessly while her mind homed in on her sister, still seated across from her. As she finished her incomprehensible incantation, her eyes finally opened to spy the results of her practice.

The elder princess and her consort appeared as they had been before, both lounging leisurely among the green velveteen cushions. Glitch had stretched out, with his legs at odd, jaunty angles in front of him in his upright position, while Azkadellia had fallen asleep with her head resting on her husband's lap. DG cleared her throat once more to obtain Glitch's attention, and his eyes flickered on hers briefly before he gently shook his wife, checking silently for the success of DG's spell. It appeared affective, and Glitch's initial attempts to rouse the princess royal were a failure; the woman remaining wholly unmoved until DG's finger reached out, pointing gracefully in her sister's direction while she wordlessly broke the enchantment she had created.

Azkadellia's eyes fluttered open immediately, and she gazed around blearily for only a moment before she rose from her seat, smiling demurely at her husband while she feigned fatigue with a false yawn. "I'm sorry Ambrose, I suppose I dozed off," Azkadellia laughed, adding, "how long was I asleep?"

Ambrose glanced from Azkadellia to DG minutely, his dimpled smile brightening his face when he replied nonchalantly, "Aw, not long enough for a doting husband who hasn't had enough time with his wife all to himself." Glitch chuckled brightly as he paused to rise, reaching his hand out to his wife as he asked, "shall we make it an early night, Dee?"

Azkadellia's smile widened at Glitch, and she paused to consider her sister, who had taken to resting her cheek on her hand and seemed to struggle with keeping her eyes open all of the sudden. "I'd say we all need to make it an early night, Ambrose."

Azkadellia took Glitch's hand and allowed him to help her up, at which point, the princess glided towards her sister, leaning down to place a cool hand on DG's free cheek. "Deeg, why don't I have Gates escort you back to your room, you look like you're about to fall over."

In DG's state, with her head swimming and her eyesight rimmed in fuzzy white light, it took a moment to focus on her sister, and she finally forced herself to sit upright to meet her sister's gaze. Azkadellia's green eyes were darkened, and her brow was furrowed in obvious worry. "Are you okay little sister? Was it too much?" Azkadellia whispered within DG's head.

DG fought the wooziness to try and answer wordlessly, but found her stomach turning cartwheels when she made a half-hearted attempt, and she groaned instead, answering huskily, "I think I might have overdone the studying a bit, and I don't think little bit likes me skipping meals. I'll be okay sis, just need to go lay down, like you said."

Glitch had already swept past the ladies while they spoke and reappeared shortly with Gates hot on his heels. The poor guard looked more like mother hen than intimidating guard when he walked around the chair to inspect his charge, and his eyes were full of concern as he reached a giant hand down to help DG up. "Princess," he breathed out," are you okay, Milady? Should I take you to the medicoats?"

DG laughed a little too loudly at this, and replied with a light jab, "You do look a little pale Gates, are you feeling alright?" She winked in peace offering to the man, now tipping his head and frowning in slight annoyance before adding in a sober voice as she took his hand, "I'm fine, really. I just need to go lie down."

Gates acted as if he was lifting glass as he helped the petite princess out of her chair, blustering quietly all the while, "Cain will have my head if somethin' happens to you Princess, are you sure I can't take ye' to the medical ward?"

Glitch inhaled sharply behind DG's back and silently shook his head in warning, without having to see DG's eyes narrowed on the large man when she grumbled in a manner reminiscent of her absent husband, "The Tin Man will be the least of your worries, Gates, if I turn you into a cute little mouse before he gets here. I'm fine." DG stomped her foot petulantly as she continued to eye her guard, only relaxing when he sighed in defeat.

"Alright, yer highness, no need to get strident." He nodded to Glitch and Azkadellia and added in parting, "Good evening, your highness, Lord Ambrose."

DG waved weakly to her sister as she let Gates lead her out, and Azkadellia returned the wave with an amused smirk, her eyes still showing a glint of worry. As her sister disappeared, however, her eyes flicked onto the form of her husband, who strode forward and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, offering softly, "We'll check on her in the morning, Dee. Don't worry, Deeg is tough."

Ambrose pulled the princess into his arms, and Azkadellia gratefully surrendered, replying with a sigh, "I know, Ambrose, just can't help being a concerned older sister. Especially with Wyatt gone. Do you think he's having any luck finding Vizor?"

Ambrose smiled while he paused to recollect his past adventures with the Tin Man, and he answered with a lighthearted chuckle, "I wouldn't be surprised if Cain wasn't beating his door down right now. I don't think I've ever seen him sleep, except when he got thrown out of a window, but he can't really be blamed for that. As a matter of fact –"

Ambrose paused only to yawn amidst his rambling, and Azkadellia stepped back slightly, placing a small hand on her husband's cheek as she interrupted with a gentle whisper, "Ambrose, you're glitching." Ambrose's face reddened, and his dimpled smile widened as he returned his wife's knowing smile, at which point Azkadellia added, "I think we could both use a little rest. Join me?"

If Ambrose had smiled any wider it seemed that his mouth would split wide open, and the brightness of his grin was infectious as he looked down on his wife. Far from being bothered by Azkadellia's observation, the man was grateful to be so intimately known by her, and his gaze reflected the mixture of happiness, gratitude, and giddy excitement for the future that fought for dominance within his mind. This internal battle seemed to leave the man speechless, and he could only nod at the princess, allowing her to lead him away like a giddy child with her favorite puppy.

While Ambrose and Azkadellia reveled in each other, delighting in the opportunity to be alone, DG's fogged brain brooded over the lost opportunities with her own partner. Fatigue and magical drain had the unfortunate effect of keeping the Princess stubbornly awake, and after the slow crawl to her quarters, DG found herself unseasonably grumpy and irritable. As she shut her bedroom door noiselessly, she couldn't decide who she was more annoyed with; Gates for his overbearing concern, or herself for being so ungrateful to him. He'd only briefly mentioned Wyatt, but it had been enough to remind her of his absence, and she'd been almost as surly as Wyatt had been when she'd released him from the iron suit over two annuals ago. She'd left Gates in a huff, barely saying goodnight to the worried man before she shut the door. Her steps had become sure by this time, and although she still felt drained, her vision was clear and her gait smooth and strong as she stomped into her bedroom. It was only when she'd heard a muffled sigh from the other side of her outer doors that DG paused, realizing her error. Gates had become a friend in the past annual and had only been worried about her. He hadn't meant to upset her by mentioning the absent Tin Man, and the realization coupled with DG's stormy response had created an overwhelming sense of guilt in the man. So now, as DG crossed from her bedroom door to her bathroom, she too struggled with guilt.

DG sighed as she shut herself behind yet another set of doors, and she paused at her bathroom vanity to drop the book of Fairy's tales unceremoniously on the counter with a loud "flouff," before venturing a glance at herself in the large mirror. "Nothing to see here," she grumbled at herself, finding her own reflection accusatory and judgmental.

The Princess struggled to meet her own gaze, feeling that one look in those stormy blue eyes would cement the feeling of loneliness and foreboding that crept up on her psyche. Instead, she examined the rest of the woman in the glass. Her usually unruly curls had been tamed into a tight ponytail, which she pulled out now with a grunt. The deep, chestnut waves fell around her shoulders as they were released, making DG's pale face appear wild and young. With her hair down, DG could almost look past the dark circles under her eyes, and the somewhat gaunt quality of her cheeks. The color had left her face in much the same way that her light had been drained by exertion, and a whisper of worry flashed in her eyes at this observation. DG shook her head furiously at herself, desperate to remove the troublesome thoughts before they overtook her, and she turned from the mirror to face the claw footed tub behind her.

DG marched forward with a determined set in her jaw, muttering to herself, "Maybe a bath would help." Her hands trembled slightly as they reached forward, and she grasped the gleaming taps in both hands tightly in effort to stay the troublesome sign of her physical and emotional toil. "Get a grip Deeg," the princess continued to mutter, now twisting the taps in her hands to allow the water to pour forth.

DG sealed the tub and stood up, still gazing absently at the water as it filled the tub. She very nearly allowed the bath to overflow before she finally shook herself free, sighing in irritation as she closed the taps once more and let some of the water out of the porcelain coated vessel. Now satisfied that the tub would not overflow, DG next worked to peel her clothing from her body, dropping them into a messy heap at the foot of the bathtub before creeping into the warm water.

The water lapped at DG's shoulders as she settled herself in the tub, its warmth seeming to seep into her bones as she scooted down, causing the water to rest just above her chin. With the water so close to DG's face, the princess could easily smell the lavender essence that always permeated the palace water, and she breathed deeply of the calming scent while her eye lids dropped and her head to fell back on the porcelain rim. It seemed impossible to focus on her worries in this state, and instead, DG's mind wandered even further while her body became limp and heavy, until she was wholly unaware of anything other than the hazy dreamscape she'd fallen hard and fast into like an errant leave tumbling on a gust of wind. She felt like she had been tossed into a travel storm, and DG's mind swirled in a warm, comfortable haze of lavender. She felt wholly at the mercy of the disjointed images that began to emerge and skate past her mind's eye like loose pictures falling out of an old photo album. Some were familiar, memories of recent days: being held by Wyatt in the darkness of the hut, spinning wildly within the arms of a twister before being deposited firmly in a Kansas cornfield, and standing before the bathroom mirror just moments before.

This memory seemed to hold its ground longer, and DG gave herself an opportunity to examine her surroundings. It was almost as if she'd stepped out of the bathtub instead of wandering into a dream, for the room was as she had left it, with her clothing piled at the base of the tub, and the volume of Fairy's tales perched on the countertop. The only difference between her dream and the reality she'd left behind was the heavy steam that hung in the air, permeating the surfaces with a fine film of moisture, and obscuring the reflective quality of the large, gilded mirror that hung over the vanity and wash basin directly opposite the bathtub. DG frowned at it before swiping at the glass to view her reflection. What greeted her when she cleared the fog away was so far removed from what she'd expected, however, and DG jumped back, gasping in surprise at the face that eyed her from the other side of the glass.

"We really have to stop meeting this way," DG scoffed at the fair headed woman in the mirror, adding in a sarcastic tone, "Fair warning, if seven short little gnomes come marching in here, I might break something, okay?"

DG thought she might have spied a smirk crack the woman's otherwise impassive expression, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone again. In its place, Ozma's expression hardened into something more serious, and a quizzical eyebrow raised itself instead, as the late Queen sighed in mild exasperation. She seemed to look straight past DG, though, as if she hadn't seen or heard anything from her, and DG stepped closer to the glass and tapped at it lightly.

"Your Majesty," DG called to glass, her voice high and puzzled, "Can you see me? Hello?"

Ozma continued to frown at what must have appeared as a blank picture to her, and she huffed before grumbling quietly, "Show me Dorothy Gale, you silly picture frame."

The Queen sighed once more while her eyes scanned the blank image before her, while DG waved frantically at her, desperate to get her attention. "I'm right here! Hey!" The Queen did not seem to hear or see her, however, and turned away, causing the image to go dark. DG leaned close to the glass, hoping to get a glimpse of something, anything, to explain what had just happened, but Ozma had disappeared altogether, and after moments, showed no signs of reappearing.

"Craptastic!" DG cursed herself, allowing her palms to slap against the cold marble of the vanity. In her exasperation, the book of fairy's tales was knocked from its place, and fell to the floor with a resounding smack, causing DG to jump with a start.

DG's eyes popped open with equal surprise, and she sat up suddenly, her eyes wide a clear. "Watson, a clue!" DG exclaimed excitedly, all while jumping out of the bathtub and rushing across the room for a towel in a flurry of renewed energy.

She'd barely dried herself, and her hair was still dripping about her back and chest when she wrapped the towel around her small frame, suddenly oblivious to all else besides the book that still sat on the counter. Her fingers seem to fly through the pages as she scanned for the multitude of pictures devoted to the late Queen, only pausing when she'd found one of interest. Each picture of the Queen standing before –what DG had previously thought was a mirror – only increased the princess's excitement, and when she finally stopped, she was out of breath and heaving excitedly as she looked down on the page. "Talk about cable on demand. It's always the same frame, same place, but the picture is different!" DG muttered to the book, smirking knowingly like a detective solving a mystery.

When her scanning finally stopped, it was on another image of the late Queen. In this image, however, the Queen looked away from the frame in question and her eyes were downcast and troubled. The caption under the image read, "Ozma searches for Dorothy Gale."

DG examined the page further, hoping for context clues within the text of the story for how the frame worked and why it failed to help Ozma, but the author remained stubbornly silent on it, focusing instead on the larger story being told, like the frame was a mere afterthought. DG sighed, almost giving up altogether, when she flipped another page, where someone seemed to have had the same question, and had thankfully answered it for her. Just below a passage of the story recounting Ozma's continued difficulties in her search for the missing Gale, a note had been hastily scratched in the margin. The script was miniscule, and barely legible for its cramped penmanship and faded ink and consisted of only one word: "Fog."

DG stopped squinting at the page and stood upright while she blew out a long huff of air through her nose. A smile grew as she stared down at the book, where the answers stared back up at her triumphantly, and DG swiped the book off the counter with glee, hugging it to her towel draped frame before she skittered out of the bathroom with an excited giggle. With such news, it was hard to imagine anything going wrong, and although DG reminded herself that this was where everything usually fell apart, she could not help but bask in the euphoria of finally having some glimmer of hope. Even if Boulderstone hadn't been using Ozma's picture frame to spy on the Gales, there had to be something inherent about fog that inhibited any form of magical espionage, DG reasoned, and she rushed to change, now intent on hunting down someone who could assist in proving her theory. With Wyatt being so potentially close to coming home, DG felt as if the hands of time were ticking against her, spurring her forward at such a breakneck pace that she was almost oblivious to her fatigue.

A voice not unlike Wyatt's whispered a warning to her mind, cautioning her to rest, and she shook her head as she pulled her slippers back on. "Not yet," she murmured to her absent husband, "but soon, I promise."