Tip recoiled in horror. A snake-like Wheeler slithered across the floor. A second tiktok monstrosity followed it, this one resembling half a panther among the mechanized body parts. It turned a dead golden eye upon him. He always hated being around the creatures. He shuddered and backed up a few paces. Mombi cackled as the boy stumbled backwards.
He staggered from the shack, in search of some task that needed tending, anything to be away from the clockwork horrors. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory of the panther's remaining organic eye.
A third Wheeler stood by the old well, looking formerly human. Those kind were the worst of the worst. Tip kept his eye on it as he walked by while it followed his progress.
He passed the slaughterhouse where Mombi spliced and diced living creatures and warped into her terrible children. A chill seemed to emanate from inside the building. Tip repressed another shiver and quickened his pace.
The well may have dried up, and with that thing standing guard there, he certainly wouldn't be going near it, but there was a serviceable but archaic-looking water pump at the far edge of the property. Weeds were near to choking it. Tip fished a knife from his over-laden pocket and began to hack away at them. Once they were sufficiently cut back, he worked at the pump, filling the two buckets that had been left there. Slowly, painstakingly he carried the first to the doorstop and left it there before returning for the second.
Clickings and whirrings and a steady stomping grind turned the boy's blood to ice. He froze where he stood, afraid to move. He fingered the knife, which he only just realized was still in his hand.
When face with the prospect of potential death, some run, while others stand and fight. Tip proved to be of the latter variety. He whirled on his heel and lashed out with the knife. It sliced through flesh and vein. He realized too late that it was not the man-Wheeler but Mombi herself. The knife had slit her throat. No, he, Tip had been the one. Her eyes bulged and seemed to accuse. But then they turned dull and lifeless. She kept her feet for one, two, three beats as her life's blood spurted from the gaping wound. Then she collapsed forward, falling on her face. Tip jumped out of the way, lest she fall on top of him.
She's dead, Tip realized with a shock, feeling dumb. As if it hadn't been obvious. Emotions warred inside of him. Fear, misguided remorse and utmost a sense of relief and freedom But he allowed himself no time to rejoice. Free now of their mistresses' will the Wheelers might their murderous minds on the boy. He took one last glance at the fearful beasts before fleeing into the unknown.
However to the minds of Mombi's sinister creations, Tip was water under the bridge. Hardly worthy of their notice. To conquer and lay waste to all of Oz, now that was more to their devices. So when the boy fled, they let him past and retreated to the forest, biding their time and hatching their plans.
Nor moved as if in a daze. The conversation at the edge of the Cloud Swamp leaving her with more questions than answers. Fiyero wanted her to take back Kiamo Ko? How was that even possible? She was just a girl...
She brought herself back to reality and looked all about her. Lost in her thoughts she had wandered off...somewhere. A dark and foreboding looking wood. The ground was damp, in the makings of a marsh. She was loath to go any further.
A moment later an exhausted looking boy came spilling out of the woods. He was snarled up in some vines, and had to fight his way loose. Finally, wrenching free he fell to the ground and did not move.
Nor stared down at the boy who had fallen into her life. She pushed his immobile form over onto his back, the better to see him. Odd that she should feel so instantly drawn to this newcomer. He wasn't much to look at, after all. Younger than her, possible fifteen or sixteen, slightly effeminate, scrawny and half-starved, looking as though he had been through hell and back.
She knew a thing or two about assesing and treating injuries. She slid her arm under his shoulders and lifted his torso slightly from the ground. She wiped some of the dirt from his face. A soft sigh escaped from his lips at her touch.
She pulled away at his ill-fitting tunic, his sweat causing it to stick to his skin. She felt something there. A tight band. Possibly he had broken a rib or two in his flight and tried to treat it himself. But no, it was too high up for that to be true.
A ridiculous thought formed in her mind. She ripped the bindings loose and saw her suspicions comfirmed. She was holding a young woman in her arms. Someone, either the girl herself, or someone she knew was desperate to keep this hidden. But why and whatever for?