“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

  That was pretty much all I had managed to get out in the entirety of the three hours we’d spent convening in the Wizard’s throne room, trying to figure out what to do next.

  “Don’t fret, Dorothy,” the Scarecrow said earnestly. “If we all put our heads together I’m sure we’ll come up with something yet.” I looked deep into his painted-on, burlap eyes.

  “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.”

  I’d screwed up. The Wizard had said he never would have thought of the balloon if I hadn’t mentioned it. What if he was right? What if there was no balloon in the original Oz book, and I had accidentally given him that idea instead of whatever he was supposed to do? Oh, shit. I had used up a Flying Monkey wish building the thing, too. If the real ending required two more of those, I was doublefucked.

  Should I throw on the hat and make the monkeys go grab the Wizard and haul him back to Earth? Where would that even get me? I was sure Oz would just try to get me into that fucking balloon again. If I went with him, and it was the wrong idea, what were the chances we’d both wind up dead somewhere in the desert? And even if the Wizard did have a backup plan, it would probably hinge on Flying Monkeys, and I’d have used up my last wish. No, that guy was basically useless. I was better off keeping the monkeys in my back pocket.

  “We are not so unlucky,” the Scarecrow said. He was sitting on the throne—all of the Wizard’s former subjects seemed perfectly content to have him as their new king, and if they weren’t going to complain about it, I certainly wasn’t. “When I remember that a short time ago I was up on a pole in a farmer’s cornfield, and that now I am the ruler of this beautiful city, I am quite satisfied with my lot.”

  “I also am well-pleased with my new heart,” the Tin Woodsman said. “And, really, that was the only thing I wished in all the world.”

  “For my part, I am content in knowing I am as brave as any beast that ever lived, if not braver,” the Lion said modestly.

  “Is there no chance that you might come to love the Emerald City as we do,” the Scarecrow asked, “and that we might all be happy here together?”

  I sighed. “It’s not that I don’t love you guys. The three of you—and the meat pies, of course—are the only part of this whole thing that’s been tolerable. But I need to get home. Like, for real.”

  “Well, then, we all must help you do it,” the Woodsman said, “but what can be done?”

  We had already tried whistling for the Mouse Queen, but if she was some sort of a cheat code, she was a shitty one. She had zero ideas.

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  “What of this Glinda you mentioned?” the Lion asked. “The Good Witch of the North. Might she yet help us?”

  “Oh, Glinda isn’t the Good Witch of the North.” The bearded soldier had been tidying up the throne room—he was thrilled that after twenty-five years loyal service, the new king had finally let him come inside. Now he took a break from sweeping up fallen gemstones and monkey feathers, and leaned on his broom. “The Good Witch of the North is Locasta Tattypoo.”

  “Are you sure? She gave me a Witch Kiss a couple of weeks ago, and I kept expecting her to show up again, but she never did.”

  “Kindly old woman?” the soldier asked. “Small like a Munchkin, with a jolly smile?”

  “Um, yeah. That sounds like her.”

  “That’s Locasta. I know her well, for she was always nice to me whenever she paid the Great Wizard a visit. Glinda is the Witch of the South. She is the most powerful of all the Witches, and rules over the Quadlings.”

  The Scarecrow’s terrifying nightmare face lit up. “Do you think this Glinda would help Dorothy find a way home?”

  “She might. Her castle stands on the edge of the desert, so she may know a way to cross it.”

  “And is she a Good Witch?” the Lion asked. “Not that I would be afraid to run across another Bad one, of course.”

  “The Quadlings think she is good. And she is kind to everyone. I have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep young in spite of the many years she has lived.”

  “Really,” the Tin Woodsman said, intrigued.

  Jesus Christ. “Okay,” I said. “How do I get there?”

  “The way is straight to the south,” he answered, “but it is said to be full of dangers to travelers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of odd men who do not like strangers to cross their country.”

  “You still have the Golden Cap!” the Scarecrow said. “You can call upon the Flying Monkeys once more, and be in Glinda’s kingdom at once!”

  I thought it over, and as much as I dreaded the prospect of another walking tour, I just couldn’t risk it. I was already one monkey command short, and I couldn’t afford to squander the last one if there was any other way forward. Also, there was the whole thing about setting them free with my last wish. Could I really look the Monkey King in the eyes and say ‘Sorry about eternal servitude, dude, but I didn’t feel like walking?’

  “I think I’m going to have to make this trip the hard way, guys.”

  “Then I shall go with you,” the Lion declared. “I am tired of your city and long for the woods and the country again. I am really a wild beast, you know. Besides, you will need someone to protect you.”

  “That is true,” agreed the Woodsman. “My axe may be of service, so I also will go with you to the Land of the South.”

  “When shall we start?” the Scarecrow asked.

  “My liege!” the soldier exclaimed. “You’ve only just come to rule the Emerald City. Surely we can’t spare you so soon!”

  “If it wasn’t for Dorothy I should never have had the brains that make me fit to rule,” he said. “She lifted me from the pole in the cornfield and brought me to the Emerald City to begin with. So my good luck is all due to her, and I shall never leave her until she starts back to Kansas for good.”

  It hadn’t actually occurred to me that, if we were running off script, the others might have better things to do than go traipsing across the countryside with me. But I was certainly happy to have them along. “Alrighty. Let’s do this.”

  “We shall go tomorrow morning,” the Scarecrow said. “Let us all get ready, for it will be a long, long journey.”

  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.