Dorothy Must Die
Page 51
“Look at you,” she said, not pausing in her attack. She swung her leg toward me in a powerful kick and I barely managed to get out of the way in time. “All this training and you’re fighting like it’s your first day. Am I making you nervous? Or is it someone else?”
I lunged for her, urging the fire to my hands, but it didn’t come. Melindra disappeared just as I was about to grab her, and I whirled and ducked just in time to avoid getting a haircut—or worse—as her sword grazed the top of my head.
“Oh, did I make you mad?” she asked.
She jumped up and seemed to hang in midair for a split second as she pulled her knees to her chest before whipping them out like a jackknife and shifting her momentum, flying straight for me.
Her feet collided hard against my breastbone, and before I knew what was happening I was on my back on the stone floor again, the wind knocked out of me. I watched with dazed double vision as she turned a graceful backflip and landed like it was nothing. Melindra whipped out her arm and pushed the tip of her blade into my throat, looking down on me with contempt.
“Poor little Amy,” she said. “All of Oz is depending on you and you can’t even take out a sorry half girl like me.”
She was pressing hard enough to hurt without actually breaking the skin. But the message was clear. I could kill you if I wanted to, but for now I’ll be nice.
“Shut up,” I wheezed through clenched teeth, still struggling to breathe.
“Not the best way to impress boys,” she said, shifting her eyes sneakily toward Nox. “Especially a boy who cares more about the cause than anything else.”
“Shut up!” I spat again, feeling my face go red with anger.
“They all think you’re so special. I don’t know why. You can’t even do a simple spell. Go ahead. Try.” She pressed her blade harder. My face burned; my fingers tingled with heat.
Nox finally stepped in.
“Melindra,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “That’s enough. Let her go. She’s doing her best.” From the disappointed way he was looking back and forth from her to me, I felt like I had let him down twice. First by letting her beat me, and then by not fighting back once she had me pinned.
Melindra rolled her eyes and snorted contemptuously, but she pulled her weapon away. “Don’t give her false hope, Nox,” she said. “You know as well as I do that you’re too good for her.”
She looked back at me. “Not so talented after all, are you? Just another outlander who thinks she’s special. We get used to that around here, you know.”
I’d had enough. Enough of being picked on. Enough of other people telling me what to do. Enough of feeling powerless.
“Shut up!” I screamed, my words reverberating through the stone chamber.
The burning feeling that had been building in my body rushed through me at once, and I lit up: I was on fire. The flames came shooting out of my chest in huge, curling tongues that all rolled together into one giant ball of fire that exploded out of me, rocketing straight for Melindra.
She stepped aside casually and the fireball shot right past her, hitting the wall of the cave with a pathetic fizzle. Nox’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but Melindra was unfazed. “That’s really the best you can do?” she asked with a sneer. I pushed past both of them without a word.
When I showed up in Gert’s cave she looked at me. “You burned your pretty hair,” she said, sounding completely unsurprised.
“Teach me,” I said. “I’m ready. I want to learn.”
“Get some rest,” she said. “Meet me in the training room tomorrow. You’ll learn.”
When I walked into the training room the next morning, it was empty except for a single stalk of corn growing in the center of the room.
“You ready for this?” Nox asked, appearing at my side without warning.
I glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Gert asked me to help,” he said without looking at me, and, as if she’d been summoned by her own name, Gert materialized out of nowhere. She drew her hand up in front of her and whispered something, and tiny green shoots began to spring up through the stone floor, quickly unfurling themselves into stalks taller than I was. Taller than Nox. Soon there were hundreds of them, and the cave seemed to magically expand to make room for an entire cornfield that had grown all around me.
I looked up to find that the ceiling had been replaced by a cold and artificial blue sky. When I glanced back at Nox, he was already disappearing into the green.
“Find him,” Gert commanded.
I lurched ahead, ready to chase after him.
Gert’s invisible hand stopped me. “Not like that. Pay attention. I like to say a few words when I cast a spell. It helps me focus. And it will also help you as you’re learning.” She wove her hands together and whispered an incantation: “What I seek, I shall find, what I see, will be mine.”
A white orb formed between her hands and rose like a flare, pausing in midair. Waiting for someone to follow after it.
I took a step forward.
Gert gave me a look of consternation. “No,” she said. “Make your own.”
“What if I set the whole place on fire by accident?”
She shook her head. She was frustrated with me, I could tell, but in her frustration—in her squinted, lined eyes and pursed lips—I could see something else, too. Something I didn’t see very often. She wasn’t just doing this because she wanted me to be able to help the Order. She wanted to teach me because she was worried about me.
I lunged for her, urging the fire to my hands, but it didn’t come. Melindra disappeared just as I was about to grab her, and I whirled and ducked just in time to avoid getting a haircut—or worse—as her sword grazed the top of my head.
“Oh, did I make you mad?” she asked.
She jumped up and seemed to hang in midair for a split second as she pulled her knees to her chest before whipping them out like a jackknife and shifting her momentum, flying straight for me.
Her feet collided hard against my breastbone, and before I knew what was happening I was on my back on the stone floor again, the wind knocked out of me. I watched with dazed double vision as she turned a graceful backflip and landed like it was nothing. Melindra whipped out her arm and pushed the tip of her blade into my throat, looking down on me with contempt.
“Poor little Amy,” she said. “All of Oz is depending on you and you can’t even take out a sorry half girl like me.”
She was pressing hard enough to hurt without actually breaking the skin. But the message was clear. I could kill you if I wanted to, but for now I’ll be nice.
“Shut up,” I wheezed through clenched teeth, still struggling to breathe.
“Not the best way to impress boys,” she said, shifting her eyes sneakily toward Nox. “Especially a boy who cares more about the cause than anything else.”
“Shut up!” I spat again, feeling my face go red with anger.
“They all think you’re so special. I don’t know why. You can’t even do a simple spell. Go ahead. Try.” She pressed her blade harder. My face burned; my fingers tingled with heat.
Nox finally stepped in.
“Melindra,” he said, grabbing her by the arm. “That’s enough. Let her go. She’s doing her best.” From the disappointed way he was looking back and forth from her to me, I felt like I had let him down twice. First by letting her beat me, and then by not fighting back once she had me pinned.
Melindra rolled her eyes and snorted contemptuously, but she pulled her weapon away. “Don’t give her false hope, Nox,” she said. “You know as well as I do that you’re too good for her.”
She looked back at me. “Not so talented after all, are you? Just another outlander who thinks she’s special. We get used to that around here, you know.”
I’d had enough. Enough of being picked on. Enough of other people telling me what to do. Enough of feeling powerless.
“Shut up!” I screamed, my words reverberating through the stone chamber.
The burning feeling that had been building in my body rushed through me at once, and I lit up: I was on fire. The flames came shooting out of my chest in huge, curling tongues that all rolled together into one giant ball of fire that exploded out of me, rocketing straight for Melindra.
She stepped aside casually and the fireball shot right past her, hitting the wall of the cave with a pathetic fizzle. Nox’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but Melindra was unfazed. “That’s really the best you can do?” she asked with a sneer. I pushed past both of them without a word.
When I showed up in Gert’s cave she looked at me. “You burned your pretty hair,” she said, sounding completely unsurprised.
“Teach me,” I said. “I’m ready. I want to learn.”
“Get some rest,” she said. “Meet me in the training room tomorrow. You’ll learn.”
When I walked into the training room the next morning, it was empty except for a single stalk of corn growing in the center of the room.
“You ready for this?” Nox asked, appearing at my side without warning.
I glared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Gert asked me to help,” he said without looking at me, and, as if she’d been summoned by her own name, Gert materialized out of nowhere. She drew her hand up in front of her and whispered something, and tiny green shoots began to spring up through the stone floor, quickly unfurling themselves into stalks taller than I was. Taller than Nox. Soon there were hundreds of them, and the cave seemed to magically expand to make room for an entire cornfield that had grown all around me.
I looked up to find that the ceiling had been replaced by a cold and artificial blue sky. When I glanced back at Nox, he was already disappearing into the green.
“Find him,” Gert commanded.
I lurched ahead, ready to chase after him.
Gert’s invisible hand stopped me. “Not like that. Pay attention. I like to say a few words when I cast a spell. It helps me focus. And it will also help you as you’re learning.” She wove her hands together and whispered an incantation: “What I seek, I shall find, what I see, will be mine.”
A white orb formed between her hands and rose like a flare, pausing in midair. Waiting for someone to follow after it.
I took a step forward.
Gert gave me a look of consternation. “No,” she said. “Make your own.”
“What if I set the whole place on fire by accident?”
She shook her head. She was frustrated with me, I could tell, but in her frustration—in her squinted, lined eyes and pursed lips—I could see something else, too. Something I didn’t see very often. She wasn’t just doing this because she wanted me to be able to help the Order. She wanted to teach me because she was worried about me.
