"Wow what a sleep!" I awoke with my usual burst of energy, stretching deeply and trying to determine internally how long I'd been asleep since Wyatt left. Given that I felt somehow refreshed, almost like a new person, it had to have been awhile, I decided quickly.

I sat up and swung my feet around to the ground and let my toes wiggle in the deep pile of the rug at the foot of the bed while I thought about what had happened earlier. It seemed impossible that over a week ago, I was sneaking past Gates for the second time, bound and devoted to the idea that I probably wouldn't be coming back to the palace. I mean, I figured that Wyatt would find me eventually, but I wasn't sure what the outcome of that would be. I guess it helped that Wyatt was honor-bound to ideas like duty and the common good, because that was really the whole point of why I was leaving in the first place – it made it a little hard for him to rat me out. I'm sure it helped too that Wyatt was apparently in love with me, but I really hadn't been willing to figure that in when I'd decided to leave.

"Wyatt," I said his name out loud, letting the sound roll off my tongue and wash over me while I recalled the feeling of being in his arms with a faint smile on my face.

It was still so new to me, calling him by his given name. Before today, we'd never really called each other by the names we were born with. Before now, he'd only used my given name maybe once or twice, and I'd only really said his name in dreams. I hadn't wanted to be called anything else by anyone, really, until he'd said my name the first time. He'd made me feel special, but for a whole lot of reasons that had nothing to do with saving the OZ from darkness, and when I'd said his name back, I'd only confirmed the truth of what had been in my heart all along. He was just as important to me as I was to him, and now that we'd both admitted it, there wasn't any going back to calling each other things like "Cain" or "Kid." Those nicknames had only been a guise to put a safe distance between us in the past – a distance neither of us wanted any more.

I let out a long, relieved sigh and glanced out the window to my right. Watching the suns dropping slowly to the horizon, I was struck by the fact that I hadn't seen so much light in the past cycle. I'd been so beside myself, so at war with my emotions, that I'd caused Central City to be a constant greyscape. It was a relief to be past the worst of it, and to have Wyatt with me, that it made what we would have to do next seem almost trivial. Thinking about this and watching the suns continue to drop, I suddenly panicked. It had occurred to me that Wyatt had promised to be back by now, and I'd never known my Tin Man to renig on a promise, not even when he'd been at the bottom of a frozen lake. I'd just pulled on a pair of jeans and my sneakers, intending to head out and find him when there was a soft rap at my outer door. I froze, not sure if I should answer, and almost worried that my earlier antics had somehow blown my cover.

"DG," I heard a familiar, husky voice hiss on the other side of the heavy door, and I let out the breath I'd been holding in a loud puff.

When I opened the door to see Raw standing on the other side, ringing his hands nervously, I couldn't have been happier. What he said next brought my initial panic back though, and I could hardly get a hug in before I was back to being in a frenzy.

"Where is Cain?" He asked in clear confusion. "He said he be here."

Instead of letting my friend into the apartment, I stepped out into the hall with him and locked the door behind me. "I don't know, Raw, but we'd better go find him."

Raw rushed after me, and we sped silently down the empty corridor until we were inside the lift. As it descended, I asked quietly, "When did you see him last, Raw?"

Raw growled under his breath, thinking before answering. "Cain saw Raw in Cain's office just before suns high in sky. Raw saw Tin Man an hour later, leaving palace. Raw wait like Tin Man ask. Come after Cain should already be here with DG."

That made it certain that Cain had left the palace, but where he might have gone, I had no idea. "Is there anything else you can tell me, Raw, about where Cain might have gone?"

Raw growled again, and this time, it took him a little longer to speak. Finally, he answered, sounding defeated. "No, Princess. Raw don't know. Cain's head hurt, he wanted to get to Princess. Wanted to rest like Raw told him to." I glanced at Raw, wondering what he meant about Wyatt needing rest. I wanted to ask why Wyatt needed rest so bad, but something about Raw's nervous whimper told me that Raw wasn't planning on saying much else.

Without much else to go on, we bolted past Bert with nothing more than a cursory wave and headed out into the street. People were bustling past, probably on their way home from work, and didn't pay either of us too much attention. This was good, because with my mind focused solely on finding Wyatt, I'd somehow forgotten to put up my disguise, and was now walking around completely unshielded. It also happened that I wasn't apparently the most interesting thing happening in that part of Central City. There seemed to be a constant stream of people headed into the center of town, which also happened to be the way we were going, and among these streams of bustling pedestrians, I caught snipits of excited whispers.

"Can it really be true?" I heard one woman whisper excitedly to another woman just ahead of us, "Is the Mystic Man really back?"

"I don't know, but let's go find out. I've been hearing about it all day at work. Apparently, the Mystic Man's palace is all lit up. Hasn't been like that since before the Emerald Wars!" The other woman replied.

Neither woman paid us any attention, but Raw and I exchanged nervous glances all the same. When we reached the square though, I realized why they and so many others were excited. The green palace, that had seemed almost derelict and battered before, was now glittering as it held court over the Central City Gardens at its feet. In the failing light of the day, the place sparkled like a crown gem, and where it had once been broken in places, it seemed to be in the process of repairing – seemingly on its own. Then I noticed something. Something seemingly insignificant compared to the rest of this spectacle, and something most people would have ignored. Most people except Wyatt Cain, that is. The massive outer doors of the place, made of heavy wood and iron, had been entirely shut before. Now, one door was cracked open as if someone had failed to shut it all the way when they'd gone through. Wyatt would have noted this when he walked past, I was certain, and he would have felt compelled to check it out. Being that I was cut from a similar cloth, I just couldn't resist it, and dragged Raw along behind me as I marched up to the palace.

"Come on Raw," I muttered in a determined rumble.

Raw, in usual fashion, was less than enthusiastic in my choice in destination, but he followed along all the same, protesting with his usual hisses of "DG!" as we went.

I might have listened to him, except what we saw when I pushed through that door left us both speechless, and we both froze. For a moment, I wasn't sure how to react, and my eyes had trouble adjusting to the fact that the interior of the place seemed to have repaired itself as well. I'd expected a mess, to be honest. Maybe broken glass and furniture strewn across the grand entry, but instead, I found a warm space, glittering like the outside and nothing like my slowly returning memory of the place. In the middle of all of this was Wyatt, laying spread eagle on the golden, mosaic tile that was fanned out around him in the shape of a massive rosette.

As beautiful as the place was, and how instantly welcome I felt, I knew that Wyatt being on that floor couldn't be good. I was embarrassed that I'd frozen, but it had been a fraction of a second, really, and I was suddenly moving again – now nearly sliding like a second baseman trying to catch a ball to reach him.

"Wyatt!' I burst out in alarm when I leaned over him, shaking his shoulders gently to bring him into consciousness.

His eyes opened almost immediately, and at first, they seemed to have trouble comprehending what they were seeing. The confusion in his face cleared quickly though, and concern quickly took over, causing him to sit up suddenly.

"DG!" He exclaimed but stopping short to grasp his head and groan. "Augh. My head feels like it's splitting in two." He explained through a groan, wincing when he tried to open his eyes again.

"What are you two doing here? And where is here?" He asked, sounding disoriented for the apparent headache wracking his head.

"We're in the Mystic Man's palace-"

"What? Why? How?" Wyatt barked his questions in quick, alarmed succession, interrupting me midway through my explanation.

"Looking for you," Raw retorted softly, trying to calm Wyatt while he helped me get him to his feet. "Come. We must get you some place safe. Some place you can rest."

Cain seemed unwilling to argue, and as we stood up together and started to walk, he paused to groan while he pulled a massive, iron key out of his pocket. "Here Raw," he grunted, "Lock up."

Raw and I exchanged an uncertain look, wondering how long Cain had had that key in his pocket. Neither of us had ever seen it before, and it seemed unlikely that he'd have a way in and out of the Mystic Man's palace given his prior alarm. All the same, it seemed odd that he'd pulled that key out like it was nothing, almost like an afterthought, but neither of us was willing to ask. Not when Wyatt was so clearly in pain. Instead, Raw did what he was asked, and locked the door behind us as we left. Getting out of the Mystic Man's palace wasn't as easy as getting in though, because the second we stepped outside, we were met with throngs of people, gazing in nervous anticipation at the three of us, clearly wondering what we'd seen inside the mysterious place towering behind us.

"Is that him? Wasn't he that Tin man once?" I heard a few voices call out over the general murmur.

This seemed to compel the growing crowd and the hushed voices seemed to amplify more, while the nearest faces became increasingly enthusiastic.

"DG," Raw muttered warningly, "what we do now?"

I knew I had to think fast. Wyatt wasn't in any shape to help us out – he was barely conscious and seemed more concerned with his head than the crowd growing around us. This might have panicked me on a different day, seeing as Wyatt was almost never down for the count, but given that no one seemed too concerned that I might be a princess at the moment, it seemed like I might not be the one at greatest risk for once.

"The Mystic Man thanks you for your concern," I called out brightly, "but the effort of restoring the Emerald Palace has left him quite exhausted, and he needs to rest."

The crowd parted in a kind of silent reverence, almost as if on cue, allowing us to pass. A few hands reached out to touch Wyatt, but Raw and I formed a kind of barrier on either side of him, keeping him almost wholly shielded.

"When will we see him again?" I heard a voice cry out tearfully.

I paused our departure briefly and chewed on this question. Whatever was going on here was bigger than any of us, clearly, and these people needed something, or we might not get out of here. Besides, we'd somehow given them hope, and I just couldn't take that away now. I knew I'd have to answer honestly, and something seemed to be pushing me on, as if there was no other way.

"He will return when our work is complete. You have my word." I answered the crowd, this time not bothering to avert my eyes from any of the people watching us, and almost stunned myself by how much like my mother I suddenly sounded. I gave Raw a surprised glance, noticing that even his back straightened somewhat, as if the authority in my voice had given him a boost of courage as well.

"Thank you, Princess." A voice murmured nearby, and another, further away called out, "May Ozma bless you both, Princess. Mystic Man."

I had to swallow the urge to roll my eyes – somehow, no matter how important this might be to everyone else, it still seemed completely surreal to me, and I was still having a hard time accepting the changes happening so quickly around me; to me. There were some days that I still couldn't believe I could create fireballs in my hands, much less heal a world, but here I was all the same, and now there was Wyatt added to the mix somehow: after everything we'd been through, I come to find that he'd seemingly been planted in my life from the very beginning by my uncle, who'd failed to mention both facts to me when we'd met in the Sorceress' dungeons. Setting that aside, Wyatt had become so intrinsic to my happiness, long surpassing his original position as a kind of grouchy wingman, to become more of a partner, and I still wasn't sure how to react. I mean, this was what I wanted, but I hadn't expected a Mystic Man on top of everything else that Wyatt was fast becoming to me. I wasn't even completely sure that he had taken up my uncle's mantle, but this was far from the right time to ask – at least, not with this audience pressing in on us, so without any further ado, I steered us out of there, heading for the apartment and hoping that they could all curb their enthusiasm long enough for us to get away.

Fortunately for us, the curiously murmuring crowd seemed inclined to let us pass. Looking over my shoulder as Raw and I nearly dragged Wyatt from Central City Gardens and onto a side street, I noted that they stayed behind, some watching us wistfully, while others returned their eyes to the palace beyond. I couldn't tell you why – I'd almost expected them to follow behind us like some kind of lost puppies, but for whatever reason – be it respect or a continued want of being close to the Mystic Man's revived palace – they didn't follow us. By the time we'd rounded a street corner, the growing darkness swallowed us up, making our escape much easier, and Raw and I could easily hear our own labored breathing as we puffed along in the quiet darkness.

I could see the light streaming out of the glass doors of Ana's apartment building up ahead, and I fumbled for the keys in my right pocket while I struggled to keep Wyatt righted on my left. "We're almost there," I huffed out breathlessly, pausing at the doors and hoping Bert would open them for us.

The old man had been dosing in his chair, and when I tapped on the glass with my key, he jerked awake with a start, trying to mask his bleary expression with a deep frown, which he began to throw in my direction until he apparently realized who I was. His old eyes widened until they were nearly twice the size, and he gaped at us as he held the door open. He seemed almost speechless, and peered out onto the street cautiously before he yanked the doors shut and locked them down tight, not speaking a single word until he'd ushered us into the elevator, still looking over his shoulder as if afraid we might have been followed.

When the doors of the elevator finally snapped shut and we were up and away, Bert finally spoke, but not before removing his hat and ringing it in his hands. "I'm so sorry, your highness," he croaked quietly, "If I'd have known you was who you was, I wouldn't be so fast to let just anyone follow ya home, but then again, Mr. Solo doesn't seem so well. He didn't let some sneaky longcoat get the jump on him, did he?"

Raw and I exchanged an almost humored glance, and I had to bite my lip to stem the laugh trying to burst out of me. The poor old man was sweet, and apparently tried so hard to be observant, but he was still just missing the mark. I wondered if I should say anything at all, but then Raw growled quietly under his breath while he continued to glance furtively at the old man, clearly indicating that I should say something, at the very least to get the man off our tails for the night.

"Oh, yeah." I nodded dramatically, "One almost got ahold of me. If Han hadn't been there, Raw and I would have been goners."

Bert shook his head sadly and sighed. "Well, I'm glad he was there then, your highness. I guess you all must be doin' some kind of big undercover work, eh? Is that why you've been sneakin' around with this Tin Man followin' ya?"

I let my eyes widen, and I shook my head in false amazement when I replied, "I don't know how you do it Bert, but you got me. Don't tell anyone though, okay?"

Bert shoved his hat back onto his head and saluted me, "I won't tell a soul, Ma'am. You have my word."

I placed my free hand on Bert's shoulder and smiled, this time not without a trace of falsehood. He truly was a sweet old man, after all, and I was glad for him despite his shortcomings. "Thank you, Bert."

The old man smiled back, and I rewarded him by letting he watch as I returned the platinum blonde hair to my head and the Wyatt-like sparkle to my eyes. His mouth hung open, and he could barely take his eyes off of me when the doors opened. I cleared my throat suggestively and he shook himself out of his stupor suddenly, moving hastily to hold the doors open for us as we struggled to drag Wyatt out and into the corridor.

"Thanks Bert and call up if you think there's a problem." I whispered quietly to the old man as I passed.

Bert nodded and whispered back, "You and your friends were the last ones in tonight. I'll keep it locked down tight for the night. No one will be bothering you ma'am. You have the word of an old soldier; nothin' will happen on my watch."

Raw and I exchanged another smile across Wyatt's lolling head as we moved away. I didn't dare speak until we'd gotten inside, but somehow, I knew I wouldn't have to explain what I was thinking anyway. As clueless as the old man appeared to be, I trusted him all the same, and so did Raw. It was a small consolation too, to know that we wouldn't be bothered by the outside world. Now if I could only silent the worries in my heart, then I might be able to rest, as I hoped Wyatt would for the next few hours. By daylight, whether he was ready or not, I knew we'd have to get out of Central City, and I worried that he wouldn't be much better than he was now. I hoped that Raw could help him somehow, but without knowing why he was in so much apparent pain, I wondered if Raw might be in some kind of danger himself if he tried too hard to heal him. I kept thinking about what delving too deep into my Uncle's mind had done to Raw's tribesman, Lilo. It had killed the older seer, leaving Raw and Kalm as the last members of their small tribe, and I worried that the same might happen to Raw. Then, there was what Wyatt would say to me once he recovered – if he recovered. Would he blame me for what was apparently happening to him? Would he still love me? This was all happening so fast, and so little had actually been said between me and Wyatt. I just wasn't sure where I stood in it all, and I wasn't sure that it really mattered anyway, not with everything else that was happening, and if I felt that way now, would that doom our chances for a relationship in the end?

The thoughts in my head, piling one on top of the other, seemed to have exhausted Raw too, and the second I shut and locked the door behind us, he growled under his breath. "Princess not worry so loudly. Hurt Raw's head too. Then we all have headaches."

"I'm sorry Raw," I muttered as we shuffled into the room across the hall from mine and deposited Wyatt carefully on the bed. "I just don't know where I stand right now, and I don't really feel like I have the right to ask. Not when I'm already asking so much of him."

Raw and I both looked down on Wyatt, who had already gotten comfortable on Ana's bed, and was puffing quietly up at the ceiling in his sleep. I shook my head at the man, who apparently could sleep anywhere these days, and was still completely dressed and none the wiser. I stepped over to him and smiled while I gently lifted my Tin Man's head and removed his hat, and then moved over to untie his shoes. While I was slipping them off and placing them at the foot of the bed, Raw watched quietly, and did not speak again until I walked back over to him at the doorway.

There was a soft smile on his face when I stepped into the doorframe at his side. "DG does not need to ask. DG listen to what is in her heart. DG knows. Cain loves DG. Would move mountains for Princess. This not even a foothill to him. You not worry." Raw muttered as we continued to stand in the door, watching our Tin Man rest comfortably.

"I wish I had your faith Raw. I'm just so tired." I sighed. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Raw placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it soothingly, "Raw will look after Cain. DG go rest. DG worked hard today too. You no worry. Go. Sleep."

I took one last look at Wyatt before I smiled wearily at Raw, hoping my friend was right. I then turned with a sigh, and trod heavily into the room across the hall, wishing I could drop the worries from my head like I dropped my clothes on the floor. I was tired at least, which made silencing my thoughts easier, and before I'd even hit the pillow, I could feel my head grow twice as heavy and my eyes droop shut.

When they opened again, it was because I'd been having another nightmare, and I felt as if I was jumping straight into an ice-cold lake instead of waking up in my borrowed bedroom. For being in nothing more than a skimpy tank top and a pair of boy-shorts, I was drenched in sweat, and panting as if I'd run a race. As was usually the case when I woke up in Ana's apartment after another one of my nightmares, I didn't really know where I was at first, and scanned the room as if my life depended on it. It didn't take long for me to realize where I was, but remembering the dream was another thing all together. At first, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what had scared me so bad, but then at least one factor came back to me in technicolor. It was Wyatt. Having remembered, I jumped out of bed, determined that I would check on him, and whether or not he was angry with me was something I would deal with when I got to it. Unfortunately for me, when I get these random flashes, I sometimes forget about little things like clothes, and before I'd realized my state, I was already swinging my door open to find what had become of Wyatt.

The moment I did that, I found myself face to face with a similarly winded Tin Man, who'd popped out of his own door across the narrow hallway. Since the last time I'd seen him, he'd lost the coat and vest as well as the button-down shirt underneath it, and his bare chest heaved like he'd just run the same race with me. My heart felt like it might leap out of my throat, and suddenly, the combination of this and my sudden shyness left me unable to speak, and I gaped at him instead, probably looking a lot like a caught fish. This didn't seem to bother him though, and before I could regain my ability to speak, he'd already bridged the gap between us. In a flash, his arms were scooping me up, and I became almost painfully aware of how hard my heart could thud against my chest when he pressed me to him, and his lips crashed down on mine. This kiss was different than the others – it was possessive and consuming – like I was being drown in every bit of Wyatt's passion. There was lust too the longer we grasped onto each other's bare skin, and a part of me begged to be dragged under if it felt this good to be possessed by him. His fingers glanced at the skin of my waist where the tank top had hitched up, almost sliding inside the hem of my shorts, while mine pressed against his chest like I was unconsciously testing the strength of his muscles. The more we mindlessly tested each other's resolve not to go further like this, the harder it got to stop, until a whimper from my lips finally stayed my stalwart Tin Man. His lips stopped instantly, and his eyes opened to gaze dreamily at me.

Wyatt was still, thankfully, holding onto me while he studied me breathlessly, and his eyes were warm and loving when a smile curled the edges of his lips. One of his hands left my waist so he could brush an errant hair out of my face, and he continued to stroke my cheek softly when he murmured quietly, "When are you going to trust that I want to be here, Dorothy? I'm in love with you, and nothing's going to change that. You can stop runnin' now."

I could feel my face getting hot as it occurred to me that somehow, Wyatt had used words that had struck the exact image that had been in my head just before I'd woken up. It didn't seem possible that Wyatt could enter my dreams, and the concept that he'd been there rattled me for some reason that I couldn't explain.

"Wyatt, were you –"

Wyatt's face ducked down, and he placed a soft reminder on my lips to stop my question. "Not here, Dorothy," he murmured against the seam of my lips, and I instantly complied, knowing that Raw was just inches from the door behind Wyatt. When I'd nodded my understanding, Wyatt's hold on me loosened, and he added suggestively as he held my waist in place for a moment, "Now, why don't we both put on a little bit more clothes and talk in the kitchen. I bet my surly little princess might like a cup of coffee before we leave, right?"

He was grinning outright now, daring me to argue, and I couldn't help but frown at him before I offered him a nonchalant shrug. "Couldn't hurt, no."

A smile snuck onto my face as I reached up to peck my Tin Man on the lips before I darted away, and his soft chuckle told me that our banter had lightened the tightness in his chest as well as mine. Before too long, we were standing in the small kitchen, both now completely clothed; Wyatt's shirt and vest had reappeared, and a pair of pajama bottoms had been added to me that effectively hid the boy-shorts that had offered so much temptation to Wyatt before. All the same, I could feel Wyatt's eyes on me still despite this, as if he was remembering what I looked like with less clothes, and I glanced at him while I worked to see a look of amazement on his face while I made the coffee he'd mentioned.

"What?" I balked as I set the percolator to work on the stove.

Wyatt shook his head and scoffed lightly, "Nothing really, I've just never gotten to see this side of you. It suits you – taking care of yourself. It's a wonder you lasted as long as you did in the palace before you bolted." I was giving him a look that could kill, and he scratched the back of his head nervously before he added sheepishly, "I'm impressed, that's all."

My frown twisted into a sideways smirk, and I shrugged to show that I had begrudgingly accepted his explanation, and I rewarded him with a soft peck. The problem was, we were still so close to that little interlude in the hallway, and it didn't take much to make the Tin Man growl possessively again. When his hands started to snake around my waist to keep me pinned to him, I pulled back and sighed.

"Wyatt, we can't keep doing this. Not now. We'll mortify Raw if he catches us like this." I lectured my possessed Tin Man, who seemed unwilling to relent, and was starting to make me breathless by peppering my neck with soft kisses.

He'd apparently seen the light of day though and released me with an unhappy huff. "You're right, Dorothy. I'm sorry."

I forgave him easily, but honestly, part of me wished he hadn't stopped, and I had to force myself out of his reach so we wouldn't make the same mistake again. Instead, I busied myself with getting cups down from the cabinet, while Wyatt searched the refrigerator for cream. When we'd finally both gotten a cup of coffee in our hands, the expression of lust had been completely removed from Wyatt's steely eyes, and his head jerked in a business-like fashion towards the small table just outside the kitchen.

When we'd sat down next to each other, I settled into drinking my coffee without a word, knowing that I was in for a long explanation from Wyatt for what had happened at the palace. He didn't disappoint and waited until I'd gotten a sip in before he asked carefully, "Dorothy, before I tell you what your mother and I talked about, I need you to tell me what you know about Azkadellia's light being tainted. Do you know anything about that?"

I wasn't sure that Wyatt had said what he had for a minute, and my brain sputtered helplessly while I grasped the words. Tutor's many lessons seemed to be seeping into my brain instead, and I struggled to remember what he'd said about the monarch needing to have a direct and untainted connection with the light of the OZ to help maintain the balance of magic and mankind in our world. Then it occurred to me that I hadn't once seen Az perform any light magic since we'd rescued her from the Sorceress, and I could feel my stomach plummet swiftly into my feet.

"Az can't rule," I heard my own faint voice tumble out of my mouth while I stared ahead, staring off into space while I continued to connect the dots. "Wyatt, I can't. Is this why mother's been playing games? She knows I can't do it, doesn't she? Or she doesn't want to force me to. Either way, it royally sucks."

Then a truly horrible thought crossed my mind, and I felt my grasp of the mug in my hands slip. If it hadn't been for Wyatt catching it and placing it on the table next to his before he scooped my hands into both of his in a flash, it would have shattered to the floor. As it was, I was wholly unaware of the mug any longer, and found myself anchored to this world by Wyatt's eyes alone. My breath was shallow, and I felt like I might pass out from the sudden panic that had struck me, and all the while, Wyatt's calm eyes trained me to calm down, like a steady little boat rocking on a stormy sea.

When I'd finally caught my breath, I spoke again, still sounding somewhat panicked when I asked, "It's my mother, isn't it? She's dying." Wyatt's eyes looked altogether startled and sad, as if he hadn't expected me to glean that much with so little, and I added forcefully, "I have to go to her. Now."

Wyatt maintained his grasp on my hands, and his voice was rough when he replied darkly, "there's no time, Dorothy."

For a second, I said nothing, and instead watched him while my eyes filled with tears. Initially, he hadn't been looking at me, but rather, he'd been looking at our hands which were bound together by his cupping mine firmly. Then, as he stopped talking, he looked up and locked eyes with me, and I realized that he'd been crying as well. My heart clenched, remembering with affection that as gruff as Wyatt Cain could be, he really had the biggest heart of us all, and it was because of this fact alone that he was ordinarily so outwardly stoic. The realization that I was part of a select group of people that saw this side of Wyatt stopped my first inclination to argue, and I sucked in a long, deep breath before I spoke again.

"Let me guess," my voice came out roughly, "we were right all along, and my mother's chances of surviving are tied to us successfully healing the OZ. Right?"

The corner of Wyatt's mouth twitched – this was a sure sign that I'd nailed it – although he'd never said anything, I knew for a fact that Wyatt loved it when I did this. It was enough to break his hard, tough veneer when I out-copped him, and I suspected it was one of those things that first got him on my side from the beginning. It might have also been what made him fall in love with me, but as usual, I couldn't bring myself to ask yet.

Instead of having the short, loving interlude I'd prefer, Wyatt's face straightened, and he released my hands to sit back and sigh. "Yeah, that's about the speed of it."

I sat back as well and huffed. "But I have no idea where to go next! Did mother have any ideas?"

Wyatt shook his head. "She said that it was a matter of the heart, but not hers."

He'd meant to give me information, but his answer had only helped the frustration building up inside of me to bubble over, and I groaned loudly before I spoke again in a near growl. "Why does it always have to be riddles with her? Why can't she just spit it out? Even better, my heart's not telling me much either!"

"DG's heart does speak. DG and Cain both dream." Raw's low, growly voice purred from the head of the hall, where he emerged silently and sat among us.

I eyed Raw incredulously, trying to decipher the answer I apparently had already. Then, the reason I'd woken up earlier hit me square in the face. The problem was, I couldn't remember anything except the sensation of running, falling into cold water, and Wyatt. Besides that, the images had already faded, and I was at a loss to remember the clues that my dreams might have been trying give me. Looking at Wyatt, I realized quickly that he was not so lost, and his eyes were focused and dark behind his furrowed eyebrows.

"I know where we need to go." He answered with equal darkness before he downed the rest of his coffee and slammed the mug down on the table. His eyes flicked on mine suddenly, and his expression softened, probably because he realized that I was throwing him a bewildered, almost startled look. His voice softened too, and he was almost apologetic when he explained, "We're going to visit my old prison, Dorothy."

For some reason, I couldn't comprehend what Wyatt had just said. It wasn't so much the words, but the conviction with which he'd stated them that startled me, and I felt so far out of my depth – even for a Gale – that I almost screamed in frustration. Glancing at Raw didn't help either, because my furry friend, who always seemed to know more than what he was saying, was doing it again, and he wrung his hands nervously while he remained completely silent.

"Is someone going to explain to me what's going on with you, Wyatt?" I asked loudly, looking from Wyatt to Raw and getting steadily angrier. "First, you act like you've got the worst hangover in the world, and now you're spouting directions like my uncle. I mean, are you the Mystic Man, Wyatt?"

Wyatt didn't flinch, and his eyes remained steady on mine when I'd cornered him. His answer wasn't quite as confident though, and he shook his head when he answered uncertainly. "I don't know what's going on with me, not yet anyway. It's like I'm still cooking, but I promise you, when I do figure it out, you'll be the first to know."

"Is your head still hurting?"

Wyatt shook his head. "No, that stopped, thankfully."

I had so many questions, but knowing he either couldn't or wouldn't answer the most burning question in my mind kind of put out my fire. It was a small consolation, at least, to know he'd recovered somewhat, and I sighed in moderate relief before I asked, "so, I get that you still don't know what's going on, but how do you know that we should go visit the iron suit?"

Wyatt's own brow furrowed while he apparently chewed on this thought. I imagined with some amusement that this must be what it was like for him to follow me around when I was getting odd, random instincts seemingly from thin air. Then I reminded myself that he'd followed me anyway, which gave me a lot of reason to trust him now.

"I keep getting these weird flashes," he answered thoughtfully, as if remembering a dream, "and I heard something – two somethings really – when I passed out in the Mystic Man's palace." He paused to take a deep breath before he explained, and he exchanged a look with both me and Raw before he spoke, like he was taking a mental poll of how we viewed his sanity. Apparently satisfied that we didn't see him as a total headcase, he explained, "I heard a sound like the iron suit slamming shut, and a voice said, 'home is where your heart is.' Now, I wouldn't call that iron suit my home, but the farm had been before all of that went down, and it hasn't been the same since."

"What do you mean?" I asked uncertainly.

"Well," Wyatt sighed, "I helped Jeb put a new roof on the old house, but we didn't quite get to the land, and I'm not sure what I could have done then anyway, seein' as I didn't exactly have enough time, but I can tell you that nothing's taking. Not even the potted rose bush that you had me bring Jeb from your garden."

I couldn't really argue with Wyatt's logic, and I might have asked another question, but he cut in rather suddenly, sounding like he didn't want to forget something important. "There's another thing, Dorothy, that you should know. In all the flashes I kept having yesterday, a number kept repeating – five – and I'm pretty sure we're down to three tasks now."

There was no end to my confusion, it seemed, and part of me wanted to sit here all day to pick Wyatt's brain. Instead, I focused on what he'd said, and asked sardonically, "Well, I guess I shouldn't ask how you know that, but why three?"

Wyatt's eyes flicked onto mine almost hopefully, and I could tell that there was something close to his heart that he wanted to tell me, but for whatever reason, he didn't and shook his head. "It's no good asking me to tell you about all the visions I'm having. The one thing I know for certain is that some are pretty dead-on, and others are more like echoes of a possibility. What I can say is that I had one vision so clearly, that it was like I was there, and in it, there was a child counting down from five to three. Whatever else that vision was, I know it was a message first and foremost."

There was one thing about Wyatt that I'd learned a long time ago. When he fixes you with those crystalline eyes so pointedly, there's no point in arguing, because he's already made up his mind. Sometimes, I've found it highly irritating. Now, however, it was the one thing that made it easier for me to trust that we were on the right path. I thought about his statements; that it was a matter of the heart, and that we'd already healed two of the five places needed to right the Outer Zone. It seemed like a no-brainer that Finaqua had been the first location. Its magical waters were believed to have been a gift from the Outer Zone, so it made sense that the place was somehow linked to the heart of the OZ itself, and Central City Gardens seemed like the heart of the Outer Zone's people if what Wyatt had said held any sway. Then there was Wyatt – his heart had been nearly shattered when he'd been thrown in that iron suit, and he'd been just about a shell of a person when I'd freed him. The fact that he was so certain that that was where we needed to go next didn't hurt either, so I accepted it with a shrug. It was just as good a place to start as any until I could figure out the hidden message in my dreams in any case. There was just one problem.

"How are we going to get there? It took us a few days to get here from your house the last time, and I didn't exactly pack for a hiking trip when I left the palace. Besides, I don't think we have a whole lot of time." I grumbled darkly.

"I've got you covered, Princess," Wyatt answered brightly as he arose from his seat and offered me his hand. When I took it, he pulled me up and added with a smirk, "but you're gonna have to put on some clothes first. Can't have you tromping out of Central City in your pajamas."

I smirked back at him, huffing in mild irritation. "Of course not. I thought I'd go in full court regalia instead."

When I turned to tromp off to the bedroom, Wyatt's hands fell on my bare arms, and his eyes crinkled with worry. "Are you ready for this though, you were pretty out of it not too long ago."

His eyes continued to scan me, and I couldn't help but smile at the irony of it all. "Wyatt," I scoffed, "I wasn't the one that had to be dragged from the Mystic Man's palace a few hours ago, remember?"

Wyatt huffed back and his eyes flickered onto Raw. "Fair point, Princess. You want to give us both the all-clear, Fuzzball?"

Raw climbed out of his chair and stood before the two of us, and he grumbled low as he placed a hand on either of our heads, "Raw not a doctor, Cain, but I check."

"It's not really our physical well-being I'm concerned about, Raw," Cain explained while Raw stood motionless, his eyes closed while he read us. "Dorothy's light isn't too drained still, is it?"

Just before Raw's eyes flickered open, I glanced at Wyatt, finding the look in his eyes worried, and I suddenly found myself thinking about my mother. She must have looked terrible if Wyatt was so worried about me draining my light. After all, my mother had just about died to save me the first time, so it stood to reason that I might make the same mistake in trying to heal the OZ. I would have kissed him there for his trouble, but Raw standing between us kind of put a stop to that thought. Instead, I took his hand in mine and squeezed it gently, smiling faintly when he moved his attention from Raw to me.

"Raw see no problem with Princess or Myst – Tin Man." Raw stated simply when he opened his eyes, averting them from Wyatt quickly as if afraid of inspiring some kind of ire for the slip of his tongue.

Wyatt seemed more focused on the fact that I was fine and blew out a relieved puff of air before he returned my smile. "Alright, Princess. You heard the furball. Get dressed for walking, we leave as soon as you're ready."

Although I was ready for anything Wyatt had in store for us, I really hoped we weren't walking quite as much as we had on our first little adventure through the OZ. As I busied myself with getting dressed, it gave me some solace to know that we wouldn't be running from anyone this time, but rather running towards something. If we were lucky, we might save the Outer Zone and my mother, but admittedly I still wondered why she hadn't just said something on the outset. She had to have known that her light was failing, but why she wouldn't just say something, I still couldn't figure it out. As I pulled on my bomber jacket and slipped on my tennis shoes, I told myself that I'd have to ask her. I told myself that I would ask her, quickly determining that I wouldn't go through this mission with the thought that I might lose her. I didn't once doubt that I could save Az after all, and I managed it in the end, so I wouldn't give up on my mother either. I was even more heartened when I returned to Wyatt and Raw, who were waiting for me in the living room, finding their expressions just as resolved as mine.

"Well, what are you guys waiting for, let's go!" I announced dramatically as I marched us to the front door, knowing for certain that my dear friends were stifling smiles behind me.

With that eager exclamation, we left behind Ana's apartment, and slipped through the quiet city streets while everyone still slept around us, unaware of the fading strength of our realm. For all they knew, the suns would still rise in the next hour, and life would continue as normal. For us, an imaginary clock seemed to tick in our ears, telling us that time was marching against us, and we had to act quickly. With friends like these though, I knew I could face anything.