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  “What? Who said I was immortal?”

  “You stopped aging when they crowned you as the ruler of Oz,” Olivia said. “And honestly, I suspect the Silver Shoes would keep you from aging, as well. Now, you can still be killed, but your body will heal faster from injuries. It is also harder to kill you.”

  Dorothy slanted a frown back at Nick. “How come no one told me all of this?”

  He shrugged. “I thought everyone knew that. Is it different where you come from?”

  Dorothy shook her head and turned back to the Witches. “So be it.” And in a louder voice, she proclaimed, “Olivia, Good Witch of the North, I declare you the First Witch of the Witch's Council.”

  Olivia gasped, eyes huge, and her back bowed. A look of bliss spread across her lovely face, and then she smiled serenely.

  “I haven't felt anything like that since being elevated to Cardinal Witch,” Olivia said. She bowed to Dorothy. “Your Highness, I pledge my wand and my life to you and your service.”

  Diana bowed, “Your Highness, I pledge my wand and my life to you and your service.”

  The War Room erupted in cheers. Dorothy brushed tears from her eyes, feeling a great weight lifted off her shoulders.

  Marshal Picho cleared his throat, bringing her back to reality.

  “We now have to decide what we'll do about Lion, Glinda, and the two Wickeds,” the Grand Marshal said. “They are still out there threatening the peace. Even now they are plotting all of our demises.”

  “Lion?” Dorothy asked. Her old friend, Warlord Lion, wasn’t represented on the map. A sense of dread began go creep in. “Yes. We need to deal with Lion first. He might be the key to our victory, or our defeat.”

  Chapter 2

  The cold seeped into her bones. The aura of dread and despair chilled Dorothy's soul. She led the way, with Nick fast on her heels. Her Silver Stilettos clacked loudly on the stone steps, while Nick's tread was amazingly quiet. That steel-sheathed body didn't rattle or bang at all.

  “I hate the dungeon so much,” Dorothy whispered. For some reason it seemed wrong to speak out loud down there. “Can we change this? Maybe build a jailhouse to hold prisoners at another location? I'd rather the dungeons be used for storage, or just abandoned and filled up with dirt.”

  “You're will is law, Dorothy,” he said. “I'll have the Imperial Architect find an appropriate site and draw up some plans for your approval.”

  “Really? That easy?” she said. “Maybe this Empress gig isn't that bad after all.”

  They emerged from the dimly lit stairwell and upon the first basement level. The lighting was only marginally better. Glowing magic half-globes were stuck to the ceiling in a line down the corridor, emitting a pale greenish light.

  “Even the lighting is cold down here,” she muttered, rubbing her bare arms.

  Dorothy still wore the emerald gown from the earlier Court session, where she met with the two Good Witches. Now it was night, dinner was finished, and the Good Witches had returned home. She had one last task for that day, and then she could retire to her bedchambers with Nick.

  Thoughts of bedtime with Nick sucked the air out of her lungs. Dorothy bit her lip, belly fluttery hot. Her sex tingled, and she felt her love juices seeping out, preparing for what was coming. She struggled to vanquish all of the erotic thoughts and visions, once again wondering if Scarecrow had put a curse upon the land to make everyone horny all of the time. He'd committed worse magical crimes against the people of Oz.

  The Officer of the Guard stepped out of their orderly room. Dorothy stopped him when he started towards them. She didn't want anyone around while they questioned Scarecrow.

  “Scarecrow's cell is to the left,” she said, and started walking that way. “Nick, Scarecrow's dramatic rise to political and magical power makes me think. The Good Witches are going to provide me with someone to teach me magic, but Scarecrow learned magic super fast with this evil heart talisman. I wonder if there is another such talisman that will do the same for me, only without all the evil involved.”

  “Way ahead of you,” Nick said. “I've already sent your agents out in search for such an object, but you should still accept the magic training provided. It's unlikely we'll find anything like Scarecrow found.”

  Each of the overhead globes brightened as she neared them, and faded once she passed by. There was a light globe outside of Scarecrow's cell. The door was iron-banded wood, with a small barred porthole. She had to lift up on her tip-toes to see inside the dark cell. There were no light globes inside the cells.

  “He looks so evil,” she whispered.

  Scarecrow looked up at her words. His eyes no longer blazed red fire inside his burlap face, but his mouth was still full of sharpened teeth and long fangs. The guards had stripped him of royal finery, so the animated scarecrow wore a plain shirt and pants of brown homespun. She noticed several holes where straw stuck out.

  “Hello, my beautiful Dorothy,” Scarecrow purred, but with an evil glint in his pitch black eyes. “Have you come to play with me?”

  Besides being locked inside the ten by fifteen foot cell, a rusty iron collar was locked around Scarecrow's neck and a five foot chain secured him to the back wall. He had enough slack to sit, sleep, or stand. Dorothy learned on her first visit that his legs gave him a little more reach than five feet. Yeah, he kicked her straight out the door that day.

  “In your dreams,” she said.

  Every lock in the dungeon was opened by the same skeleton key. Dorothy had one, so she unlocked the cell door and opened it. Nick pushed past her to stand threateningly over their prisoner. Dorothy shook her head, and followed him inside.

  “Scarecrow, we have some questions for you,” Dorothy said.

  He spat at her.

  Nick kicked him in the head. Dorothy flinched, not expecting the huge steel man to do that. More shocking, Nick's steel shod foot flatted the scarecrow's head against the wall. And then his head sprang back. The sneer never left Scarecrow's face.

  “You know I don't feel pain, little tin soldier.”

  “No,” Dorothy said, grabbing Nick's arm before he ripped the prisoner's head off. That probably wouldn't kill Scarecrow, either, but it would be a disconcerting sight. “Don't play into his hands.”

  “Yes. Don't play into my hands,” Scarecrow mocked. Then he leered at Dorothy, looking her up and down as he pulled his penis out. He might be straw-stuffed cloth, but his dick and balls were hot flesh. She didn't want to know what kind of dark magic created them for him. “Now, Dorothy can play in my hands anytime. How about it, babe? Want to go for a thrilling hay ride?”

  “No. I have questions about – “

  Scarecrow threw himself at her, both hands reaching for her throat. She stood just out of reach with a disappointed look. He threw curses at her, suggested she do vile things to herself, and then to him.

  “When I get out of here, I'm going to make you my sex slave for all time and eternity! You will grovel at my feet, begging me to use and abuse you,” he spewed, face a mask of hate and rage. He just as suddenly stepped back, hands clutching at the heart he didn't have. “I'm sorry. Forgive me. Please, Dorothy, let me go.” He fell to his knees. “I'll do anything. I'll grovel and beg. I'll kiss and lick your pretty silver feet.”

  Scarecrow stopped, staring down at her magical shoes. A look of longing covered his face so fierce she stepped back.

  “We'll leave if you don't behave,” Dorothy threatened. He nodded, but remained kneeling before her. She found it quite uncomfortable and wanted to order him to either sit or stand, but that might set his crazy off again. “I need to know where you got the black heart with all the magic.”

  “You're looking to gain magic?”

  She nodded.

  Scarecrow's face lit up with wicked glee. “I can give you magic. Just wrap your pretty lips around my cock, and it'll be magical.”

  Remaining on his knees, the straw-stuffed prisoner strained at his chain to reach her. Dorothy looked
at Nick and shook her head. It was so sad.

  “This is why I can't release him,” she said. “As you can see, he's quite mad. I think the black heart thing corrupted him, or maybe rewired his brain. Either way, this is how it always goes when I visit. One moment he is professing undying devotion, the next threatening to cut my heart out, and the next offering disgusting sexual suggestions.”

  “I agree. Once, he was good,” Nick said. “He ruled wisely and compassionately for a long time, but then it went downhill fast. I'm afraid Lion and I got caught up in his evil, too. We broke free, but I don't think Scarecrow will ever return to that man you knew and loved.”

  Dorothy regarded Nick a long moment. The sweet, innocent Tin Woodman of old might still live deep within his heart, but Nick didn't escape Scarecrow's evil unscathed. In her mind, being a notorious pimp was evil. Indeed, Nick hadn't given up his brothel. He still owned and operated it, but on a part-time basis. His duties in the palace came first. She could only pray that Lion wasn't still as caught up in evil as her friend Nick.

  “I still want to try and save him,” she said. “But I might need magic to do so.”

  A brown bubble flew into the room. Dorothy presented her palm for it to land upon. Then she poked it with a fingernail. Lion's deep base voice brought her answer when it burst.

  “I agree to meet with you, Dorothy,” Lion said. “Meet me under a flag of truce at Deathknight Castle in fifteen days.”

  A sense of relief filled her. Everyone warned her that Lion would not agree to meet with her. She was certain that he would. It was good to prove the naysayers wrong.

  “This is a bad idea,” Nick said. “Lion will subjugate you just like he did Locasta.”

  Dorothy rolled her eyes. She was so tired of hearing about Lion's pheromones. No simple scent was going to turn her brain to mush. Besides, her magic shoes would protect her. Right?

  “Come, Nick,” she said. “We have a trip to plan. Let us pray I can convince Lion to join our cause. We already have too many enemies at our throat.” She slanted a mischievous look at him. “Maybe I'll let you bang me stupid before my meeting with Lion, so his aphrodisiac pheromones won't turn me into his love slave.”

  Chapter 3

  Glinda strode purposely through the ornate halls of her castle. She chose luxury and beauty over the utilitarian starkness in other castles. So it might be an impenetrable fortress facing the cruel world, but she enjoyed a gorgeous palace within.

  A double column of the twenty most beautiful young women in the land kept pace with their mistress as they followed obediently. All wore tight leather corsets in different shades of red, with silky slit skirts swirling around their long, thigh-boot sheathed legs.

  Glinda's Ladies-in-Waiting were as fierce as their beloved mistress.

  The vanquished Imperial Witch's eyes narrowed as they approached the door. Determination spread across her lovely face. Her waist-length strawberry blonde hair bounced and flowed around her bare shoulders. Her spectacular body was sheathed in a form-fitting pink and white silk bodice, with a long flowing pink silk skirt. Two slits divided that skirt, allowing her white thigh-booted legs to come out with each step.

  A pair of Sa'Kor agents guarded the chamber door, sheathed in their order's tight black leather. Both were tall, blonde, and armed with swords. One of the agents opened the door for her. The first two Ladies-in-Waiting, Uma and Isobel, followed her through the door, while the rest turned and faced away to help guard it.

  Everyone in the room came to attention. “Mistress, we live to serve.”

  Glinda paused to look them over. Five were the Sa'Kor's military branch's senior officers, and the other five were the spy branch's senior officers. Five women in black armor; five in black leather. They stood at attention, facing each other across a long table. Glinda took the chair at the head of that table, and sat.

  Dark, desert-born Uma stood to the Witch's right, while the pale, platinum blonde Isobel took position to Glinda's left. Only then did the Witch allow the Sa'Kor to relax and sit.

  “Where is Colonel Svana?” Glinda asked.

  Svana was her spymaster in Emerald City. The platinum blonde's responsibility was the traditional kingdom of Oz, in the middle of the Four Countries. Until Scarecrow's ouster, Svana operated out of the Emerald Palace.

  “She couldn't make it due to the situation in Emerald City,” General Kahlan said. The dark-haired, blue-eyed leader of the spy branch sat to Glinda's immediate left. General Alizan sat to her right, and commanded the military branch. “She's busy putting together a new headquarters at a hidden location within the city.”

  “What was the damage to our Emerald City operation?”

  “Just displaced, mistress,” Kahlan said. “None of our agents were captured, and I understand the search for them is already winding to a stop.”

  Glinda smiled. Fear of the Sa'Kor helped. She knew the soldiers and police looking for her agents were terrified of actually finding and confronting any of her secret police. Her Sa'Kor spies were just as vicious and deadly as her Sa'Kor warriors. Maybe more so.

  Turning to General Alizan, “How are the new soldiers coming along?”

  Alizan shared her wicked grin. Scarecrow might've restricted the Sa'Kor to just five thousand active duty troops, but in truth they had maintained twenty thousand extensively trained women. She hid the other fifteen thousand in secret training bases. The officers and soldiers rotated between active duty and training under the less than vigilant eyes of the Wizard's Grand Army. And while Dorothy's spies will have already noticed the swelling within the Sa'Kor ranks, they will believe the newcomers are raw recruits and not very effective in battle.

  “They are integrating as planned, mistress,” Alizan said. “We have them pretending to be confused and looking disorganized as you commanded. Those Imperial Army buffoons are surely laughing at us right now, but will be in for a very rude, bloody awakening once battle is joined.”

  “Excellent.”

  Alizan had escaped capture in Winkie Country when Wanda captured and almost killed Glinda. Unfortunately, Wanda still held Captain Pasetta and the survivors of her ill-fated troop. The fact the Wicked Witch of the West defeated and captured her made Glinda's stomach sour. Worst, Wanda shot her twice with that insidious otherworld weapon Dorothy lost in the fray. The Witch had since learned it was called a “pistol.” It was the foulest kind of dark magic, too.

  Memories of her time as Wanda's prisoner crept into her thoughts. Wanda had to be the most sexually depraved creature in all of Oz. Glinda couldn't stop thinking about all of the wicked things the Wicked Witch did to her sacred body. Though she truly despised submitting and bottoming to Wanda, she had to admit how wonderful it felt to let someone else do all of the work. She experienced some of her most powerful climaxes ever while bound tightly and utterly helpless. Who knew abject humiliation could be such an aphrodisiac?

  I have a few tricks to teach you, Wanda, she thought. I will prevail, and you will submit to me.

  But first things first…

  “Kahlan, we have to forge alliances with East and West,” Glinda said. “As much as I despise working with Wanda, if the Wickeds don't stand together with me, Dorothy's alliance with North and South will crush us.”

  “United we stand,” Alizan said, nodding. “Divided we fall.”

  Glinda scowled at the Army general.”That's a Dorothy Gale quote. It might be true, but find a better way to express it.”

  Kahlan spoke up, addressing two of her senior officers. “Colonel Vanessa. Colonel Baena. You have your orders.”

  Colonel Vanessa started out as one of Glinda's Ladies-in-Waiting, and served as her chief of staff before Uma took the position. The gorgeous redhead had a brilliantly evil mind, and rose quickly within the ranks of the Sa'Kor once she was moved over. Now she served as head of their Munchkin Country operations, and was Glinda's chief spy on Jezebelle. While Baena started out a military officer under Alizan. As she recalled, Alizan and Baena were l
overs. She wasn't as good as Svana or Vanessa, but she still rose quickly to her exalted position as head of operations in Winkie Country.

  “Message your most politically astute agents,” Glinda commanded. “It is imperative they negotiate an alliance as quickly as possible.” She locked eyes with Baena. “Make sure Wanda especially understands that I am the leader.”

  Glinda believed Wanda would agree, but only because Dorothy named Olivia as First Witch, stripping the Wicked Witch of the West of enormous magical power. Now Glinda stood more powerful again. Unfortunately, Olivia could possibly be the most powerful Cardinal Witch in Oz due to that all-important political appointment.

  But not by much, or for long.

  “Kahlan, I want you to contact Svana. She has to find a way to break Scarecrow out of Dorothy's dungeons,” Glinda said.

  “Why, mistress?” the beautiful brunette asked. Indeed, both sides of the table nodded, looking puzzled. “He's quite mad. I've received reports that he's completely lost his mind, and has been reduced to a foul-mouthed, aggressive idiot.”

  “He is indeed quite mad,” Glinda said. “Losing magical power like he held for so long can do that to you. Besides, he never really was all that sane to begin with. The black-heart crystal truly warped his mind. But, Scarecrow knows Dorothy better than anyone in Oz.”

  Glinda's mind drifted back to a more innocent time. When Dorothy first visited, her three friends were just as delightfully innocent and pure of heart as the Kansas farmgirl. In fact, she'd been a lot more innocent and naïve as well. She still couldn't believe how naïve and trusting she'd been, especially where Scarecrow was concerned. And, at the time, she'd been quite cosmopolitan and wise by Ozian standards. But then Scarecrow first sank his fangs into her neck, and then his corrupting magical claws into her heart and soul.

  “Scarecrow is the key to capturing Dorothy,” Glinda said as she stood. “He will deliver Dorothy to me on a silver platter, and I will finally reign supreme with the Silver Shoes on my feet as the Witch-Empress of Oz.”