Chapter 8

DG could feel Cain's eyes on her as she grabbed her items from the caravan and walked into the palace. She had been avoiding him since the previous night, shame and anger fighting deep within her. She knew what he said was right, all of it, but it didn't make it any easier to stomach. She felt a sudden longing for the freedom she had on the Otherside where she could climb on her motorcycle and ride until sunset with only the weight of momster and popsicle's glares on her shoulders.

"How you doing there, spitfire?" she heard Ahamo say, his hand clapping over her shoulder. She managed a small smile as he took her things from her.

"Right now I just want to get where it's warm. I can't believe I ran all around here in my leather jacket and a scarf on my head last time."

Ahamo laughed, "Yea, Kansas winters have nothing on this place."

She smiled back, genuinely this time.

"Everything ok, DG? I know last night was...well... but you just don't seem like yourself."

DG couldn't help but notice her father's eyes slide in the direction of Cain.

"I'm fine!" she said, a little too brightly, bringing Ahamo's focus back on her, "Just out of sorts, cramped in that car for days... you know."

Ahamo nodded uncertainly before gesturing towards the burning hearth As he broke off to drop off her things.

Azkadellia was already there, perched on at the end of her chair, deep in thought. She acknowledged her sister then went back to the fire, sitting far closer than what seemed safe to DG.

"There has to be a way to stop them..." she muttered, half to herself.

"We'll figure it out Az. "

"We better. If the public hears of this... it could mean a revolt."

"You really think it'll come to that?"

"Do you think the people will tolerate us failing them again?"

DG just squeezed her hand and said nothing as they stared into the flames.

Cain patted the neck of his white mare as he continued on patrol. He's been taking the late shifts; it was easier for DG to avoid him this way and he was inclined to give her her space. A stab of guilt twisted in his chest. He had told her the truth but he took no pleasure in her hurt.

The weather was clear this evening, the stars uncharacteristically bright. He continued down the path he had already worn from his first pass. He'd switched from his usual eastward route, reasoning he should become acquainted will all the grounds even if he would soon be sent back to the Northern Encampment. There was not much to look at, just snow for a hundred meters or so until the tree line. He pulled on the reigns to slow his mare as he spied some new impressions in the snow.

Heads all the way to the tree line...Human... boots... small... likely a woman...

A low growl started in his chest to cover the panic he felt take hold. How long had it been since he last passed this spot? Forty five minutes? An hour? He flexed his legs, driving his heels into his stead's side. She took off after the foot prints, kicking up snow in her wake, her rider hoping he wasn't too late.

DG lay on a sun drenched outcropping over her favorite lake in Finaqua, humming a soft tune to herself, lazily swirling the water with her finger. She stopped and watched as the water stilled, locking eyes with her own bright green ones.

Wait...green?

DG scrambled back from the shoreline, colliding with something solid at her back. Her scream died in her throat as she spun around and she nearly fell back into the water.

Standing a few feet in front of her was a girl, no more than fourteen, dressed in a shimmering green gown with her impossibly blonde hair wafting around her as if floating on unseen air currents.

"I am Ozma," she stated in a voice that seemed much older than DG expected.

"Ozma?" DG asked, surprised to find her voice worked, "As in 'Holy Ozma'? 'What the Ozma'? That Ozma?"

The girl gave a mildly amused nod.

"Yes Dorthea, the one in all the swears."

DG's face colored slightly. "Sorry"

Ozma waved a small hand. "We have important things to discuss and not much time. You must wake and meet me. Tonight."

"Um... I've not much luck with..."

"Everything depends on this. There is a shrine to the West of the castle on a frozen lake. It is only at these places I may make contact with the OZ. Follow my magic, it will guide you. "

DG opened her mouth to protest.

"I-"

"Now, wake," said Ozma and with a might push of magic, DG tumbled into the water below.

DG gasped in the cold air as she sat bolt upright in bed, heart hammering. She could already feel the pull of magic to the West.

No!

What if she's right?

No, you know what happened last time! The OZ was plunged into chaos for 15 years.

And if we don't stop the disappearances, that's likely to happen again.

And if it's a trick? If Cain is right?

And if it's not?

DG pulled at her hair with indecision and stared out her window.

If she is telling the truth, this is what we need to help our people in the mountains and prevent civil war. If this is a trick and I'm killed, it could be covered up for a brief time until my family can come up with some strategy. And if I'm kidnapped, perhaps I could get myself out.

She wrung her hands, thinking back on her dream. She thought the spirit claiming to be Ozma was good, she could feel it. Her brush with the witch had been an excellent tutorial on evil and she had sensed none of the sharp edges or acrid burn of those previous encounters.

She peered out of her window, watching as the patrolman passed by and hurried to put on her winter boots and coat.

Cain's been on the route on the other side of the castle... If I leave now it'll be an hour before this guard passes back. It just might be enough time...

Mind made up, she crept to the end of the hall, silently using magic to open a window and eased herself down into the snow.