A Tin Traveler's Guide to Warlocks and Weathervanes

by WhiteRabbit626

In this next installment, history repeats itself, and the dark history of the Gales - and how the second daughter, Lavender, became Queen at all - is revealed to DG and readers alike. Mischief and murder are abound, and DG and Cain are joined by characters from "Pitstop", bringing readers closer to the answer of the riddle told of two princesses, an emerald, and a throne.

16. Chapter 16

For the first time in what seemed like ages, Wyatt and Dorothy were finally alone. Ordinarily, this would have been a welcome occurrence but being that Wyatt was clutching onto an old iron ladder and staring up into the darkness above, waiting breathlessly for noises which might indicate they'd been found, he couldn't be farther from happy. Just a few moments ago, the moonlight had been high above, having just surpassed its peak, yet still shining bright like a flashlight overhead. Jeb's head had been the only thing that marred that sight as he'd crouched over the gaping black hole in the cobbled side-street, and Wyatt had continually looked up at the outline of his son's body watching them, praying that it would remain solitary as they dropped further underground. Fortunately, Jeb continued to peer down at them worriedly and quite alone – watching as their bodies disappeared, leaving only their faces staring up at him like little points of light in the darkness.

"This'll take you to the western shore of Lake Mossemere," he'd called out to them in a strained whisper. "From there, I'd head North. The plains there've been a no man's land since the Longcoat sightings started and would be a good place for a travel storm."

"Thanks, son," Wyatt whispered back, noting painfully how his voice echoed on the stone walls of the drainage system now engulfing them.

"Look after Raw," DG has whispered after him, causing Wyatt to wince at their continued noise.

Jeb's pale head bobbed in the moonlight, and he waved silently before he carefully pushed the manhole cover over the opening, clearly being equally concerned about the noise they'd made in saying their goodbyes. When the darkness swallowed them and the night-noises overhead were muffled by the reintroduction of the heavy, iron cover, Wyatt had stood there a moment longer, holding his breath. There was no noise overhead though, apart from the echo of Jeb's shoes on the cover when he walked over it, evidently exiting as quickly as he'd come. When the muffled clacking of his feet on the cobbled street faded into nothing without a replacement, Wyatt finally let go of the breath he'd been holding; his hands easing off the ladder as he carefully stepped back and away from the manhole cover shielding them from the street above. A small, cool hand slid into his, and the weight of Dorothy's body pressed against his back, calming him further when her other hand rested itself on his chest. His eyes closed to shut out the blackness pressing in on them on all sides, and for a moment, he concentrated on Dorothy's hands; her breath making her chest expand and contract against his back; the feel of her heart thudding like a drum. Hers raced just as his was, and he became instantly and keenly aware of how scared she must have been during their massive shell game in the streets above. He turned carefully then and enveloped her small body with his arms and held her there until the shaking of her body finally eased.

"Those weren't just plain old, hired goons, Wyatt." She murmured to her husband's chest.

Wyatt rubbed his wife's back and hummed in agreement, still worried about making too much noise. When he did speak, his voice was barely audible and murmured so close to DG's ear that the warmth of his breath tickled her skin. "No, they weren't," he agreed, "and I'm willing to bet that they weren't from around here either, or else we wouldn't have made it down here at all."

"Do you think Jeb will be alright?" DG whispered worriedly.

"Yeah, I do." Wyatt sighed quietly. "That kid's been pullin' the wool over the Longcoats' eyes for longer than I'd like to admit, and now he's got an army of Tin Men to help him." Wyatt trailed off, sounding relieved for a moment before he took stock of their situation again and sighed in the dark. "I'd be more worried about us getting out of this dark tunnel at this point than him."

"Where are we, anyway?" DG asked cautiously as she stepped carefully away from him and threw a pale ball of light to the ceiling above them.

The brim of Wyatt's hat shaded his eyes from the light of DG's enchantment, making him look almost sinister as he peered around them cautiously. "These tunnels used to be part of the city's old water system, but back in the time of the Sorceress, they were also a great way to smuggle people and supplies in and out of the city. Locals had the Longcoats convinced that there was nothing more than rotting sewage and disease down here – wouldn't touch them with a ten-foot pole."

"You think those guys that were skulking around outside the hospital were Longcoats, don't you?" DG asked quietly.

Wyatt stopped surveying the narrow, crumbling stone hallway on either side of them and stopped to look in his wife's eyes. Her expression was worried, and her eyes were wide and glassy, but there was no fear, like she already expected his answer. So, he nodded instead, knowing that further explanation would be completely superfluous.

DG exhaled in a long, resigned huff. "Well, it doesn't take much guessing to know what Zero's long game is at this point, but if you're not worried about them finding us down here, what are you worried about?"

Wyatt huffed through his nose while his jaw hardened, and he pushed his hat up with the deliberate intention of looking his wife in the eye. "Dorothy, these tunnels might not be full of the vermin and disease that the Longcoats think they are, but they also haven't been very well maintained for annuals." He paused to look around once more, taking stock of their orientation and the quality of the light above them. "Do you think you'll be able to keep that light going until we get out of here and still be able to cast a travel storm after?"

DG nodded, "Sure. That's not a problem." Wyatt's eyes scanned Dorothy's, looking for any sign that she was bluffing. While he found a complete lack of fear in her eyes, his sudden flood of concern also caused DG to stare back and her hands to go to her hips in irritation. "Wyatt, I swear." She grumbled, "Keeping a little ball of light going is kid stuff. I can handle it. What gives with the sudden lack of confidence?"

Wyatt's shoulders fell and a sigh erupted from him as he grasped her hands in his. "Casting that glamour earlier shouldn't have winded you so bad either, Dorothy. I'm just worried. What if that creature did more than you think he did?"

Looking into Wyatt's eyes, DG could no longer ignore the worry that had been creeping into the back of her mind since they'd rushed into the hospital hours ago. The truth was that she'd been distracted since Ardat Lilith had put her under his spell, and she'd been so distraught after everything that had happened, that it hadn't even occurred to her to test her magic. She'd been so overwhelmed by the sensation of the man's hands on her; his magic seeping into her and testing her – no probing her – for her deepest, darkest thoughts; her most dormant memories, that she'd nearly forgotten everything else. The images he'd drawn out of her were disjointed though, like they were unfinished, and she'd lost her objectivity in trying to work it what he'd been after. Besides these errant visions, he must have somehow taken some of her light, otherwise, she couldn't explain her sudden weakness. Even without Ardat Lilith's influence acting as a kind of venom within her, she'd known she'd have to give magic a rest after holding that glamor as long as she'd done. She had not expected the fainting spell she'd had the moment she'd crossed the threshold of the hospital's outer doors though. The moment the cool air hit her face; the knowledge that Ardat Lilith had somehow weakened her light struck her in a wave of instant panic just as she felt the room begin to spin and her consciousness fade. It was fortunate, really, that she'd been surrounded by guards, not to mention Doctor Miller and Raw, for the moment she'd begun to fall, they'd rushed her forward and up the stairs, breezing past the entire lobby without rousing a single set of eyes. It had all happened so fast, and looking back on it, it couldn't have been more than a few moments between when she'd entered the hospital and when Wyatt had kneeled before her in the smaller waiting room, but it had taken more time than it should have, making both Wyatt and the doctor more than an little concerned. The lingering effects of feeling drained had faded quickly though, and she no longer felt the creature's fantom breath on her skin when she closed her eyes. The irrational fear was also now completely gone, leaving her with the conclusion that whatever it was he'd done had been temporary for her at least, but not so much with Wyatt, apparently.

"He might have, Wyatt," she finally answered in a quiet voice, "but I'm still me, and I promise you, I can and will get us out of this tunnel and back to Kansas." She paused in her explanation when Wyatt seemed uncertain, and she admitted with some defeat in her voice, "I felt a little weak and tired this morning, but I'm stronger now than I was before. So, whatever it was that he did, it must have worn off finally."

Although he was worried still, Wyatt detected no subterfuge in his wife's voice, and he let out a breath he'd been holding. "Okay, Dorothy," he replied softly, grasping her hands and squeezing them before he looked behind her to the darkness beyond them. "Then we go on, but slowly, just in case." When DG nodded silently, he added worriedly, "but if you feel even the slightest bit woozy, you tell me. Got it?"

"Got it General," DG replied roughly while she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. I have to tell him about the visions, she thought uncomfortably, watching her husband as he nodded in utmost seriousness before turning to face the dark hallway to their right. I'll do it as soon as we're out of these tunnels, she resolved her inner conflict to his backside, throwing the ball of light ahead of him without another sound from her clenched mouth.

They moved in complete silence now, creeping as silently as their feet would allow on the smooth, wet stones that paved their path. Apart from the sound of their careful steps, which hardly made a sound for how cautiously they moved, the air was still and damp. Only the occasional drip of water or trickle from the steady rivulet of water that flowed in the center of their path made any real sound at all, and these were quiet in and of themselves, and lulled the pair into a near comfortable silence as they moved along. Their only real concern was in the darkness that still pressed about them, for the little ball of light might have lit their way, but it hardly gave them any illumination beyond a few meters in either direction. Anything brighter would have been a strain on DG's light and would have most certainly alerted someone to their presence in the event that its brilliance seeped past the many manhole covers and branches they passed on their way out of the city's vast network of tunnels. They could only hope that nothing lurked in the shadows that watched their steps, for their going was slow enough where the stones had crumbled and become unsteady. They could only hope that they wouldn't get caught by either a rogue longcoat or unseen flow of water on their way.

It felt like an age had passed since they'd last seen the sky and were it not for the rush of thoughts buzzing through DG's head, she might have been more troubled by this and the oppressive darkness that seemed to utterly swallow them and their little ball of light. The slow passage of time, coupled with the almost complete darkness and silence acted as a meditation for the princess, however, and allowed her the opportunity to reorder the jumble of images that had been stirred by the monster the night before. Images of people she knew – the same, yet younger - like her parents, her uncle, and even Cain, holding her hand and walking with her through the Ozian Market so many annuals ago, flashed before her mind's eye. These seemed to confirm Raw's suspicion that Lilith was after something from her past, or maybe someone, but then there were other images – not her own – that created confusion in her mind. Most were nothing more than brief flashes of faces, mostly young men, who'd appeared both confused and enchanted before fear and horror flashed across their youthful visages. DG had certainly never lived these moments, nor did she recollect seeing these young men in real life, and she wondered if her unsettling session with Ardat Lilith had not been entirely one-way. A nervous, uncertain energy bubbled up within her, and she pondered if he might have inadvertently given her the edge they needed to stop him after all.

We've been looking for a link between these victims, she thought, something to help us stop him and find out what Zero's after, but maybe we don't need to go looking much further. Maybe he's left it all in my head without realizing it. I just need to remember more.

DG peered ahead of Wyatt, chewing on her lip as she judged the darkness ahead. There was, fortunately, not a glimmer of light yet, and the passage seemed to continue perpetually. She let out a breath of relief at this realization, not connecting that any sound from her would alert Wyatt and bring his attention fully on her once again. When Wyatt swung around almost immediately to eye his wife worriedly, DG was taken aback and stepped back with a gasp, having nearly run into the Tin Man as she charged on blindly. Her feet were unsteady, however, and if Wyatt had not grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her into the wall of his chest, she might have crashed onto the stones, making a great deal more noise in the process of injuring herself. That moment of shock and surprise had also made DG lose her concentration with regards to the small ball of light, which flared blindingly before bursting into a million tiny stars and leaving them in complete darkness once again.

DG was completely unaware of their predicament for a fraction of a moment while another burst of images flashed before her eyes, seemingly triggered by the lightning-like flares of light. Her breath was thready and her pulse quick while the sound of creaking metal filled her ears, and a familiar face came into focus. There was no mistaking the silver hair and handle-bar mustache of the man who'd acted as Hilltop's sheriff for more years than DG could count, but she had no recollection of the odd sound she was hearing, nor of the deserted road he was standing on, and certainly not the look of shock on his face before unyielding anger bubbled up within her and the light burst before her eyes again, leaving her again enveloped in inky blackness.

"Whoa there, Darlin," Wyatt murmured quietly to his wife, still holding her tight and waiting for her pulse to slow. "Are you alright?"

DG was breathless, but not because Wyatt was pressed against her. Rather, she'd been so consumed with her train of thought that she'd been almost completely transported. The moment she became aware of herself once more, her body relaxed and her hands fell onto Wyatt's chest, which she patted reassuringly as she took another deep breath.

"I'm alright," she breathed out quietly, "but I think I just saw Ardat Lilith's last memory of Ezra Gulch."

"What?" Wyatt cried out, his voice reverberating off the walls and causing them both to stop immediately, holding their breath for any sound that would mean they'd been found. When no return sound came back to them, Wyatt huffed quietly and spoke once more, now so quiet that she could barely hear him over the trickle of water at their feet. "How is that possible?"

"I don't know, but somehow, when he tried to take memories from me, I think I somehow pulled some from him. I don't know if that's supposed to happen or not, but I was hoping it would give us the clues we need to catch him." DG answered in an excited hush.

Wyatt's hand began to stroke her back, and his voice was soft when he spoke next, clearly trying to calm her down. "Slow down, Dorothy," he lulled her before asking her slowly, "Did you see what happened to Ezra? Or what he wanted from you?"

DG dropped down onto the heels of her shoes and huffed. "No. I didn't, but that doesn't mean I can't. I just need more time." There was silence between them while they both chewed on the words being spoken between them. "But there was something else Wyatt. I could feel his anger when he saw Ezra. It was like they knew each other."

"I don't know DG," Wyatt began to interrupt, sounding uncertain by what DG might be insinuating. "Unless – "

"Unless he was part of the team that caught him the first time," DG murmured thoughtfully. Silence engulfed them once again, and it was so complete that for a moment, they could hear water dripping in the distance. An uneasy feeling squirmed in DG's gut as she recollected Ardat Lilith's emotions in that split second, and when she spoke again, she felt almost sick. "Wyatt. When he saw Ezra, he wasn't just angry, he was hungry. Like there was someone missing that he wanted even more than Ezra."

"Ezra's partner, I guess," Wyatt rumbled back almost immediately.

The ball of light was suddenly flaring over their heads once more, and Wyatt could not avoid looking into DG's eyes, which were now just as bright and questioning as that ball of light zooming over his head. "Wait. Wouldn't Artie be able to tell us who Ezra's partner was? I mean, Lilith was kept in the Archives, wasn't he?"

Wyatt could not deny DG's logic, but the buzz of the Farnsworth would certainly give their position away from where they stood now, and he shook his head resolutely. "No way DG." He paused when DG huffed and dropped her hands at her sides, continuing with a consolatory edge in his voice, "Not here anyway. Let's get out of this tunnel, then you can interrogate Artie. We've got to check in anyway before we go hoppin' a travel storm to Kansas. Might as well make the call worth our while."

DG smiled and popped up on the balls of her feet to place a kiss on Wyatt's lips. "Thank you," she murmured against the seam of his lips, causing him to smirk back and chuckle.

"Just don't tell anyone that I gave in to you. I'd never hear the end of it from Glitch." Wyatt chuckled under his breath.

"Scout's honor," DG replied as she gave him a jaunty salute, swinging around and pointing onward as she proclaimed quietly, "Let's go, Tin Man. No time to waste!"

Wyatt placed a steadying hand on his wife's shoulder and pulled her back, shaking his head minutely while the corner of his mouth twitched. "There ain't no sticks in this tunnel, Princess. Not that I'd let you go chargin' ahead of me anyway." He whispered in her ear before pecking it gently with just a breath of a kiss. "Send your little sprite on and I'll lead. Okay?"

DG's urge to argue melted when Wyatt's arm slid around her waist, and DG leaned against his chest and sighed, letting her body go limp for just one delicious moment. "Alright Wyatt, but the next time we're alone in the dark, I get to call the shots. It's not fair the way you do that to me."

DG could hear a chuckle on her husband's breath when he whispered back, his voice vibrating through her making her bite her lip to stem the whimper threatening to escape her. "It's for a good cause Princess, but if it makes you feel better, I'm not fairin' too much better than you. Next time we get the chance, you have my word, your wish is my command."

DG rested her head on Wyatt's breast a moment longer and sighed, while the Tin Man's hand lingered on her abdomen, which he patted softly before letting his hand drop. "Alright, Wyatt. Lead the way," she finally grumbled with a flick of her finger, causing the little ball of light to zoom ahead of them both.

Wyatt moved ahead of DG without another word now, his jaw hardening and his wife silently frowning at his back, both staring ahead with instantly renewed focus. Whether due to what DG had disclosed, an innate understanding of time, or simply because they were both just stubborn, the pair moved faster now, almost running down that straight little tunnel and puffing to keep up with the little light. It wasn't much longer before every step brought them closer to fresher air, and a bright point of light that was wholly separate from DG's sprite appeared in the distance, getting bigger and wider as they moved on, until they were suddenly outside, staring down at a pristine lake, sparkling like molten gold from their earthen balcony. After being in the dark for so long, even morning light was stark in their eyes, and the suns' amber reflections on the wide lake made them shield their eyes the moment they stepped out of the tunnel' shade.

Wyatt fought to regain his ability to see, and still wincing moments later, he scanned the treelined shore on either side as far as he could see, looking for any sign of Longcoats or any other unwelcome observers. Fortunately, there were only the few stray chipmunks chasing each other on a nearby pine tree, and a convoy of ducks floating on the lake that took any note of their presence, giving Wyatt leave to remove his hat with a relieved huff.

"Come on, Princess," he grumbled quietly, "let's go find a little bit of cover so we can catch our breath and give Artie a call."

Wyatt picked his way down the bank, stepping onto the grass and avoiding muddy patches as cautiously as if the wrong move might set his pants on fire. DG followed in his wake with equal care, her blue eyes looking up at random intervals to ensure that they were still alone. It wasn't necessary to ask where they were going, for unlike Illswater, Lake Mossemere was a popular vacation spot within the OZ, and several lake houses and piers dotted the long shore. It was tricky though, at this time of year, when many might while many an hour away on the lake, escaping the heat of the city for the cool breezes coming off the water – they'd have eyes on them before too long, and even DG knew they couldn't tarry. Wyatt had the same thought, but he also had the benefit of keener sight, as luck would have it. Even when he'd been half blinded by the suns, he'd seen their chance, and led them to a house, seemingly abandoned judging by its want of care, not far from the tunnel they'd escaped from. A "for sale" sign marked it as vacant, and the boat house at the head of its pier stood empty and unlocked, which Wyatt led DG to with pointed eyes and swift strides.

Once enclosed behind its tattered door, Wyatt removed the Farnsworth from his pocket and handed it to DG, muttering quietly as he did. "We don't have too much time, DG, so we'll have to make this quick."

DG held Wyatt's eyes for a fraction of a second, reading in that brief moment the urgency in his voice, the concern in his eyes. She didn't need to be told what could have happened the last time they crossed paths with Zero – and it didn't take too much imagination to guess what would happen if he had another chance at either of them, but she refused to let worry take over, and she nodded resolutely instead as she opened the device.

With a buzz, Artie's face came into view, and although he seemed barely awake – blinking and rubbing his eyes furiously – he also appeared eager to hear from the pair of them. "Report!" He blurted out before either of them could speak.

"Keep it down, Artie," DG shot back quietly, "We're not exactly in friendly territory right now."

"Oh," Artie replied in a strained hush, "alright, tell me what you found!"

"The victim was an othersider, Artie – " Wyatt began, only to be interrupted by DG.

"From Hilltop."

"What?" Artie screeched.

"Shh!" DG retorted.

"There's more." Wyatt continued, "we think Ezra Gulch was with him before Lilith brought him here."

"What?" Artie mouthed wordlessly, his hands flying into his thick, dark curls.

"Artie," DG cut in, her voice dark and rough, "I think Ezra's partner is in trouble. It felt like Lilith wanted him even more than Ezra. Like Ezra was some kind of consolation prize."

"I don't see how that's possible," Artie blustered almost as if to himself, "Elijah's been off the radar for annuals. There's no way. Wait. You felt it? What do you mean?"

DG shook her head furiously, waving off Artie's question. "Elijah? You mean Elijah Thomas? Uncle Thomas?"

Artie sat back in his chair and sighed, "Yes, that would be the one."

"Do you know where he is?" DG asked, her voice raising anxiously with every moment.

Artie eyed DG paternally over the top of his glasses and took a long, steadying breath, deciding apparently to answer the Princess with some amount of compassion despite the rather perturbed expression on his face. "Of course I do, Your Highness, but that information is classified."

"Even from me?" DG asked pointedly.

"Even from you, until you became an agent, that is. Securing the locations of past agents is the only way to ensure the safety of the Archives and the Warehouse, and seeing that Elijah was an agent of both, not even the Queen knows where he is." Artie replied simply.

"Well, that's all fine and good, Artie, but it looks a lot like Ardat Lilith is already figuring out where your agents are, and he's picking them off one by one." Wyatt replied dryly. "We're on our way to the Otherside now to find out what happened to Ezra. Maybe even give Thomas a heads up before he gets an unpleasant surprise, now that we know he was Ezra's partner. Any chance you might be able to lend us a hand just in case our friend makes an appearance?"

Artie opened his watch and counted silently before peering back up at the pair of them. "I'll need some time to get reinforcements from the Warehouse. A couple of hours at least."

"That'll do fine, Artie. We need at least that much time to get out to the plains anyway. We're still too close to civilization to make a travel storm without drawing attention." Wyatt replied.

Artie nodded curtly, "Good. I'll see you at the Gale Farm then. This afternoon."

"Alright Artie. Over and out." Wyatt replied, shutting the case resolutely and slipping it out of DG's open hand. With a firm shove on the metal case that pushed it further into his inner coat pocket, he then addressed his wife, sounding firm and serious. "We'd better move, Princess. It's going to be a long walk."

When Wyatt began to turn, intent on opening the door, DG's hand slipped into his and stopped him, forcing him to return his eyes to hers as she pulled him back to her. "Wyatt," her voice broke nervously, "I'm not sure if I can fight him. I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Wyatt's free hand brushed a tear from DG's cheek before his fingers rested there in its place. "Dorothy, you're the strongest woman I've ever met. Don't let him get into your head. You've beat Sorceresses and Evil Gnome Kings, not to mention rescued your sister, and restored this old Tin Man's rusted heart. If you can do all of that, then you can do this too, and get back to our daughter for bedtime. Okay?"

DG's sigh was a wavering, uncertain one, that was only strengthened by Wyatt leaning forward to meet her in a soft kiss. The gentle, soothing feeling of their lips meeting was like a balm to her cares, that seemed to melt the longer they kissed. Where Wyatt was gentle and attentive, DG was hungry and demanding, her mouth on Wyatt's crumbling every intention he had in pulling away. For even though time was short, and uncertainty pressed in on them both, the feelings between them were unquestionable, and giving in to them seemed to give them both a kind of protection that they could find in no other way. Wyatt felt uniquely safe in his acquiescence to the princess, and DG felt oddly powerful with every primal growl that emitted from her Tin Man, reignited with it a sense of power within her that she'd almost thought had been stolen by the creature. When their mouths could no longer satiate the feelings growing between them, DG's hands joined in, with the princess's nimble fingers sliding underneath Wyatt's coat to push it off him and press him closer to her, and Wyatt's rising to cradle DG's head and tilt it ever so gently upward so he could deepen his kissed on her mouth and neck.

"We should go," Wyatt mumbled as DG fought for equal purchase, feeding ravenously on his neck and unbuttoning his shirt so she could leave hungry kisses on his chest as well.

"Not yet," DG muttered roughly against his skin, making him rumble and grunt animalistically as she unbuckled his pants and slid her hands under his shorts so she could grasp his bare buttocks.

Wyatt's eye rolled to the ceiling and a breathless pant escaped his lips, giving away whatever willpower he had left to the heavens as DG's hands and mouth sent his heart racing. "Oh gods, have mercy woman," he mouthed through gritted teeth, before pulling Dorothy's head back and kissing her hotly once more.

They were now both pawing at each other impatiently, and Wyatt's hands moved on their own as he mirrored his wife's past movements, now completely at DG's mercy as he kissed her neck heatedly and unbuttoned her pants. In a deliberately slow motion, he pushed her pants down, and his fingers slid in between her legs, causing the princess to moan when his fingers slipped between her burning hot, wet folds. A naughty smile curled the edges of Wyatt's mouth as he tested her, and he almost laughed aloud when she grunted impatiently and finished removing her clothing for him, her challenging glare goading him when his eyes left hers to scan the small shack for an appropriate place to continue his exploration. Having found his mark, he lifted DG like a rag doll, causing her to gasp in surprise when he deposited her on the workbench behind the door, where he kneeled before her, puffing with delighted ecstasy when he was finally able to taste her like a hungry animal.

DG was fully consumed by the power Wyatt gave over to her willingly as he worshiped her, bringing her ever closer and closer to climax with every swipe of his tongue on her body. It would have been so easy to give in, to let herself go, except she wanted more. She wanted him.

"Wyatt, I need you," DG murmured to him, her nails scraping his scalp and her hazed eyes fighting to meet his.

Wyatt's eyes were hungry still when he looked up at her, still feeding on her and causing her to pant like she was running a race. It was like a drug, tasting her and bringing her to her breaking point, but the promise of filling her was even more enticing, and he stopped with immediate obedience, his eyes dark and hands knowing as he arose and repositioned himself between her legs and dropped his pants. DG was already overcome and breathless, but when Wyatt pulled her hips to his, thrusting with delicious force, she cried out, for the sensation brought her instantly to her peak and she almost lost all ability to control herself.

"Quiet now, darlin," Wyatt muttered breathlessly, thrusting all the while and smiling when DG bit her lip and whimpered. The rush of their coupling; the threat of being caught; and the undeniable electricity between them seemed to hasten Wyatt's own climax, and he gasped and shuddered as his release washed over him with unexpected force.

"Wow," DG panted, "that was –"

"Surprising."

"But so needed," DG finished with a wicked smile.

Wyatt smirked back and grunted as he straightened up, pulling DG up into sitting position as he did. Then his lips were on hers again, giving her one last, heated kiss before he leaned back to eye her almost critically. "And now we definitely need to go, Princess. No more detours."

DG twisted her mouth into a thoughtful and somewhat impish frown, merely shrugging instead of offering any argument, before she hopped down from the workbench and joined her husband in straightening their clothes. "Agreed, but that didn't count. You still owe me, Tin Man."

When Wyatt smirked, she left a final, challenging peck on her Tin Man's lips before she turned and placed a tentative hand on the doorknob. Wyatt's silent nod acted as a sobering cue, and her face became serious once more, before pulling the door with deliberate caution and waiting for Wyatt to pass. Stepping into the shadow of Wyatt's frame, she peered out beyond his shoulder, stretching to get a glimpse of the lake in the morning suns. As beautiful and peaceful as it was, there was something disquieting about it too, for the continued lack of people seemed odd, even for the morning hours. There wasn't time to study this odd phenomenon though, and before DG could even register it, Wyatt's hand was in hers once more, pulling her forward and off the dock. Soon, they were in the grass again, cutting across the abandoned lake house's back lawn to reach the road, which they cut across as well before reaching the shade of a grove of pines on the other side. It was then, when the gravel of the road crunched under DG's feet, that DG scanned their surroundings. The houses near their appointed hiding place were of the same modest make, and all were similarly without the trapping of regular use. Not a single window was cracked open to catch the breeze, and the stables and garages, which were all situated closer to the road, were all locked tight with chains. It was as if they'd come upon some kind of ghost town, and DG nearly stopped to examine the sight further, and if not for Wyatt's hand, pulling her onward, she might have. As it was, neither stopped to breathe or speak until they were a good deal away from that haunted little cove, both feeling ill at ease for the lack of humanity in what appeared to be an otherwise natural paradise.

They'd been under the cover of trees for nearly half an hour before their path was intersected by another road, this one looking less frequented than the brick route and similar to the last, being that it was narrow and winding, with gravel as its primary material. Unlike the road that bent around the lake houses, however, this one stretched on in a northwestern direction, away from the lake and the nearby town of Center Munch and out towards the part of Munchkinland that Jeb had described as a kind of no-man's land since whispers of Longcoats had scared farmers and travelers away. If it weren't for this fact, the many potholes and volunteer weeds dotting its face would have made it a perfect candidate for traversing too, for clearly, this path was little used by either foot or horse traffic as of late, making their escape that much easier. Even so, Wyatt made temporary camp within a dense gathering of shrubs that covered an outcropping overlooking the path, where they sat and watched for a time, while the suns climbed the sky and the air became sticky with humidity and swarms of small, obnoxious flies.

"Wyatt," DG hissed, "how long are you going to camp us here? No one's made a peep all morning."

"Until I'm satisfied that we're not being tracked," Wyatt muttered darkly, his eyes still trained on the gravel road stretching out below them.

A warm breeze ruffled the arms of the trees above them, and sunlight sparkled through the bows, scattering its sparkling rays on the forest floor about them. Apart from this though, there were no other noises to alert them to possible ambush, and DG let out a rather unimpressed sigh.

"I don't know if you noticed back there, but there seems to be a supreme lack of people, and as much as I'd like to say I'm bothered by it, it does help our situation a little bit, don't you think?" DG lectured her Tin Man quietly, causing Wyatt's eyes to flicker on hers and a huff to escape his nostrils.

"I noticed," he replied, standing up fully and stretching his arms out as a kind of test, "but that doesn't mean much if people are keeping away from something. We could be walking right into a trap for all we know."

The only response to Wyatt's sudden appearance was the twitter of a blue jay, however, who'd been hunting for bugs on the little path, and had been badly startled by the Tin Man. With an unfriendly squawk, the blue jay darted into the branches of the tree above them, where he continued to cry and complain about his missed meal. Meanwhile, DG could only smirk at Wyatt, and she arose to stand beside him all while shrugging in an "I told you so" kind of way, before sweeping through the bushes on her way down to the path.

When Wyatt joined her on the path, sliding his hand into hers and squeezing it affectionately, she finally spoke, sounding suddenly troubled where she'd been almost breezy before. "It's worse than we thought, isn't it?"

Wyatt winced ahead of them while he considered his answer, finally nodding his head with an accompanying hum to indicate his agreement.

"He's trying to destabilize the Zone," DG continued darkly, "and Palmeroy's his little puppet."

Wyatt nodded again. "It was like this before, you know, with the Sorceress. First, they mess with people's money, making goods and services more expensive. Then they make people afraid – so afraid that they stop going to places like Lake Mossemere, where they might get a little break. Instead, they'll stay holed up in their homes and work themselves to the bone, getting angrier and more isolated all the time."

"Then when the boogeyman actually shows up?"

"They'll greet him with open arms," Wyatt replied simply, a worried glint on his crystalline eyes being the only indication of his concern.

DG could only stare blankly ahead, feeling suddenly speechless as a cold chill ran down her spine. Everything seemed all at once muted while Wyatt's words echoed in her mind – the crunch of their feet on the gravel faded to a hush, and the sunlight seemed suddenly pale and cold. "What are we doing here, then? Playing decoy?"

The corner of Wyatt's mouth twitched, but his expression remained otherwise serious, and his eyes fixed on the path ahead. "Not quite," he finally answered, "he does seem to want something from you, and we've got to get a handle on that just as much as we do the rest. Not to mention the creature he's got chasing after us."

"Jeb's mission?" DG asked quietly.

Wyatt nodded again. "Among other things, he's been working on pinpointing Zero's base of operations. It's been a real problem up until recently though, because he seemed to keep moving."

"But he's not now?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Not that it matters," Wyatt sighed, "we still can't seem to get close enough, and he's using locals as a shield. Goin' to need someone to dig in before too long and get us intel from the inside if we want to turn this around, but he's on to us. Sniffed out just about every agent I sent in after him."

"What about Palmeroy? Didn't he invite you to visit his headquarters?"

Wyatt chuckled darkly, "I'm pretty sure that was an empty invitation." He paused then and added a thoughtful, yet ominous forethought, "and if it wasn't, he might be in more trouble than us."

DG chewed on her lower lip, thinking back to a time when she'd had a better opinion of the lord. She'd just about credited him with bringing her and Wyatt together at one time, owing chiefly to his thoughtful persuasion that she should follow her own desires rather than entertain him a moment longer. At the time, her one desire was to get away from the Zone and the Tin Man who'd shattered her heart. Wyatt being who he was meant that he'd follow her almost immediately, and the rest, as they say, was history. Truly, she'd thought the man a friend up until recently and was still heartbroken that he'd apparently used her from the very beginning. Despite this, though, she could not wish ill on him, and worried silently that Wyatt might be right about his eventual fate if he truly was mixed up with Zero.

The pair of them were silent for a time, both chewing on the ominous topics they'd discussed and staring ahead into the slowly widening path which seemed to stretch on endlessly through the forest. Then quite suddenly, after walking along that wooded trail for what seemed like an age, the shrubs dotting the edge of the path fell away and the trees simply stopped, and stood waving to a sea of grass as far as their eyes could see, halted in their march by some unseen border between the two landscapes. The place where the road had come out onto the plains was flanked on both sides by towering hills that acted as guardsmen, and they scrambled one, whose crowning shrubs made it appear as an odd-looking giant poking out of the ground, where they hid and surveyed the land ahead of them.

Their timing was fortunate, it seemed, for although the grassland was wide and flat, making their going from here easy, it also had a supreme lack of cover. Here, the occasional tree marring its waving expanse stuck out like a sore thumb, and so too did the collection of what were unmistakably Longcoats, trudging away from the northern borderlands separating Munchkinland from the great Gillikin mountains in the north, and towards them.

"Not much of a rumor anymore, is it?" DG grumbled quietly, while the small band of rogues was still far off.

Wyatt was torn between checking the ammunition in his sidearm and peering out of the grass like a cat ready to pounce, and he rumbled his agreement with a low growl. "We stay here until they're well past us. Just don't move a muscle until I say, alright Princess?"

DG held Wyatt's eyes for one heart-stopping moment while she nodded her agreement. It had been annuals since she'd seen such worry glinting in his eyes, and it stole her breath, for as usual, he'd been right in his assumption that they could be walking into a trap. There was nothing more to be done than to wait though, and hope that their position would be unmarked. So they did, with breath bated and eyes watching closely as the band of six men trudged through the grass, slowing meandering in their direction until their voices could finally be heard over the breeze rustling the trees behind them.

"Why do we gotta take these stupid walks all the time? I want to see some action." One grumbled.

The older man in front leered over his shoulder at the younger and grunted back impatiently, "You'll see action enough if you keep talkin'."

"Yeah Burt, quit your yappin', and don't go complainin' when we get back neither." Another grumbled, "Last time you stuck your foot in it, we all got stuck underground for days on end with nothin' more than dry bread and watery muglug, gaurdin' nothin' but a dusty old mine. I'd take these little walkabouts to that any day, if you ask me."

The collection of grumbling men passed below their hill and continued down the path, having never looked up once as they bantered back and forth. The one called Burt continued his line of complain despite his comrades' advice though, and moaned in reply, "Yeah alright, but why's we got to do it at all? Why we wastin' time out here in the middle of no where?"

"Never you mind," barked the leader, his voice loud and booming now that he was so close by, "I'll take you back north myself if you keep it up. Now move. We're due back. Tin Men have been givin' Munchkinland Security problems again, and we're supposed to put more eyes on the street. Boss' targets gave those blighters the slip last night leavin' the hospital, but he bets they're still close by. Can't resist a sob story an' all, typical bleedin' hearts. So, get movin'."

Wyatt and DG exchanged another alarmed look during this interchange, and Wyatt put his finger to his lips when DG's wide eyes turned from a look of alarm to anger the moment the Longcoat had called her a "bleeding heart." She remained silent none the less, and neither moved an inch until the voices of the longcoats faded to nothing.

"We'd better get goin'. Not going to be long before they figure out that we're not where they want us to be." Wyatt grunted quietly.

With a nod, DG followed Wyatt out of the dense shrubs and down the front face of the hill. Once in the grass, DG glanced back, concern darkening her eyes. "Do you think they'll be okay? Raw and the others?"

Wyatt followed the line of her sight and huffed through his nose, strongly considering his answer before he spoke.

"It didn't seem like they had been given a long enough leash to start trouble. Not yet anyway." He paused in his assessment and grabbed DG's hand, squeezing it when their eyes met. "Besides, Raw and the others have all been through this before. They'll know what to do if it gets bad. Best we can do is get to the Otherside quick, before anyone gets wise to it."

DG's expression hardened then and a curt nod was her only reply before they resumed their march, now quicker for the introduction of their old foes on the chessboard. After nearly running headlong into a band of longcoats though, Wyatt and DG abandoned the road, choosing instead to cut across the plains, high stepping the tall grasses and dodging near hidden obstacles in effort to put distance between them and the little forest road. The suns were at their apex in the cloudless sky when the pair finally stopped, puffing for air and sweating from the climbing heat. A lonely oak tree in the sea of golden grass gave them much needed shade from the harsh rays threatening to bake then, and they sank to the ground and rested against its trunk while they caught their breath.

"I miss Lizzie," DG breathed out wistfully.

Wyatt leaned his head against the tree and looked up into its branches, recalling a time when Jeb was small; linking this set of memories to his growing concerns for their small daughter. His heart constricted with the thought that their daughter might be under similar threat before long if Zero had his way, and he signed heavily.

"Me too, Dorothy."

Dorothy threw Wyatt a sideways glance, reading so much in his expression and the heaviness in his sigh. She knew that in Wyatt's mind, his responsibilities to the Zone competing painfully with those to his family had resulted in disaster before. Now living the struggle beside him with respect to their daughter made it no easier to determine the correct course of action. If anything, it felt somehow more difficult, given their status in the Zone, and DG struggled to determine the best course of action. With no answer for their personal struggle, DG could only focus on the challenge before them, she finally decided. Her eyes flashed then to the grasslands stretching out before them, and her jaw clenched with an effort to stem her motherly worry.

"Well, this is as good as place as any for a tornado, don't you think?" she asked pointedly, hoping her rhetoric would draw Wyatt away from the worries she'd created by mentioning their young child.

She climbed to her feet then and smiled wearily down on Wyatt, offering him her hand to help him up. Wyatt grasped it with a uncertain smirk on his face. "Ready when you are Princess. I just hope we don't have a long walk to the farm this time."

"I've gotten better," DG scoffed, adding with a grumble, "I was in the neighborhood last time anyway."

Wyatt shot DG a full watt smile this time as he pulled his hat down tightly on his head. DG huffed at him in response before her hands flew into the air in a dramatic, sweeping motion, causing a churning vortex of wind and dust to emerge from the ground. As it churned, it grew, until it was finally towering over them, benignly roaring in its unchanging position. DG and Wyatt's hands entwined once again, and with a reassuring smile between them, they jumped headlong into the storm.