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The Red Jinn Page 2
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“What made you think so, dear?” she asked. “What has frightened you?”
“The Picture! The Magic Picture is gone!”
“How did you know that?” asked Ozma sharply. “What were you doing in my room?“ Startled at her friend’s tone, Dorothy could only’stammer helplessly. The Wizard came to her rescue. “The Magic Picture was in need of adjustment, so I have taken it into my workshop,” he said smoothly. “I think Ozma had forgotten about it.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” smiled the little fairy. “I had forgotten, and you startled me, Dorothy. I didn’t mean to sound cross.“ Reassured, Dorothy ate her breakfast and the two girls went out to the garden, the Wizard following. The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger came bounding over to say “Good morning.” Ozma jerked back involuntarily, then recovering her composure, spoke sweetly to the great beasts. Dorothy, watching her curiously, saw that she was white and trembling.
“She must not feel well,” thought the little girl. “I never thought she could get sick, but she looks positively scared and so does the Wizard.“ As the Lion and Tiger wandered off, the Wizard turned to Ozma. “Isn’t this the day we planned to visit Glinda?“ Dorothy broke in eagerly. “Oh, good! Ozma, may I go with you?“ Ozma hesitated, but the Wizard smiled at the little girl. “Of course you may, my dear.”
“I’ll get the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon,” Dorothy call back over her shoulder as she started off at a run toward the stable.
Had she known what was taking place behind her, she would have been terribly surprised.
Ozma turned on the Wizard with flashing eyes, and demanded, “Do I have to have that child tagging after me everywhere I go?”
“Watch your temper, my dear,” cautioned the Wizard. “Dorothy is your dearest friend; and you had better not forget it.”
“Well, I won’t have it,” asserted Ozma in a lower tone, “and she’s not going to be allowed to run in and out of my rooms, either.”
“Here she comes!” warned the Wizard, and Ozma turned to Dorothy with her sweetest smile.
A few minutes later the Red Wagon rolled up, drawn by the Sawhorse, a curious beast made entirely of wood. Swift as the wind, tireless, and loyal to his little Mistress, the Sawhorse was Ozma’s favorite steed. The girls and the Wizard took their places in the Red Wagon and started away. The Sawhorse had no reins, and needed none. By the shortest route he took them straight to Glinda’s palace with his usual incredible speed; so they arrived just in time for lunch.
Glinda greeted her royal guests in her usual pleasant manner, but Dorothy thought she seemed ill at ease. And when they had finished their meal, the Sorceress rose and addressed Ozma. “Perhaps you and the Wizard would like to come into the library for a conference. I have something of the utmost importance to tell you.“ Dorothy jumped up eagerly. “I’ll come too,” she exclaimed. “Is it something good or bad?”
The three looked at each other in great perplexity. “I don’t think it would interest you,” smiled the Sorceress pleasantly. “It’s about a magic appliance which you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” returned Dorothy cheerfully. “I’ll just read the Book of Records while you talk.”
“No, you won’t!” cried Ozma sharply. Then, as Dorothy started at her in amazement, she recovered her composure. “You run along and play while Glinda and the Wizard and I talk. We won’t be long, I’m sure.“ Thoroughly bewildered, the little girl wandered off. She had never been barred from their conferences before. Indeed, her company was eagerly sought; her opinions often consulted.
She went out into the patio where Glinda’s many lovely maids were working and playing. Dorothy knew most of the girls and spent a pleasant hour with them. Then, feeling that her friends must be about through, she went to the library and tapped timidly at the door.
Though Glinda admitted her cordially, Dorothy had an uneasy feeling that she had interrupted the three. To conceal her embarrasment, she walked over to the table to look at the Book of Records. Before she could read it, Ozma rushed over and slammed the great book shut. “There is nothing of interest in it today,” she explained pleasantly, if rather hastily. “Only horrid motor car accidents in America, and I know you won’t want to read about them.“ Dorothy was sure she had seen a red sentence, which she knew could only pertain to happenings in Oz, but she said nothing. Feeling miserably unwanted, and longing to cry, she turned toward the door. The Wizard jumped up.
“I think we’re about through now, Glinda,” he said. “Dorothy, will you run and tell the Sawhorse that we’re ready, to leave? If we go now, we’ll be home in time for supper.“ The little girl ran off, leaving the others staring at each other. “That was quick thinking, my dear Ozma,” remarked the Wizard. “If she had looked at that book, things might have become very unpleasant.”
“I think I’ll have to send her back to Kansas,” muttered the Princess crossly. “I can’t watch her every minute of the day, and she’s much too inquisitive.”
“Just don’t bring her here again,” said Glinda, frowning. “She’s positively dangerous.”
“Here she comes again,” cautioned the Wizard. “Ah, my dear, are we ready now? Goodbye Glinda. We’ll see you again soon.“ Glinda accompanied them to the door where the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon were waiting. After further goodbyes, the three climbed into the wagon, and the Sawhorse took them swiftly back to the Emerald City That evening Dorothy again approached Ozma. “I have another idea for the party,” she began.
“Party? What party?” snapped Ozma.
“Why, the Makeday party….”
“Makeday party? What kind of ridiculous nonsense is that?”
“Don’t you remember? The Makeday party for the Scarecrow. We were going to have a strawride party and wear costumes.“ Ozma shuddered and held up a hand. “I remember now,” she returned. “But I’ve changed my mind; there isn’t going to be a party.”
“But the Scarecrow…”
“Bother the Scarecrow!” exclaimed Ozma savagely. “I said there won’t be a party, and I mean it. We’re through with parties! There aren’t going to be any more…!”
“But Ozma…”
“Don’t argue with me!” broke in Ozma sharply. “Now go away, and don’t bother me again. Go away, I said!“ Dorothy stared in disbelief. Then she burst into tears. She ran outside and flung herself down in the grass, sobbing heartbrokenly. Presently a soft nose touched her cheek.
Looking up, she saw the Cowardly Lion.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Has someone been teasing you? Stop crying— please stop crying, and tell me what’s wrong.“ Choking down her sobs, Dorothy sat up and told him all about her friend’s strange behavior. “And then she told me to go away and stop bothering her,” she finished with a fresh burst of grief.
“Well now, maybe she was just tired,” rumbled the Lion uneasily. “I’m cross when I’m tired, and I’ve known you to be pretty cranky yourself. Come on, wipe your eyes like a good girl.“ Obediently Dorothy pulled her hankerchief from her pocket. As she shook it out, a small white pellet fell out of it into her lap.
“What’s that?” grunted the Lion.
“A peppermint, I guess,” answered the little girl listlessly. “Want it?“ The Lion shook his head, so Dorothy absently popped the pellet into her mouth. “I guess you’re right,” she agreed. “I won’t worry any more—but I do wish I knew what was wrong.“ WHOOSH! Dorothy clutched at the Lion as they were lifted up, carried through the air with terrific speed and set down in the Library of Glinda’s palace.
“What happened?” puffed the Lion. “Is that what a cyclone feels like, Dorothy?”
“I don’t know what happened,” gasped the little girl, “I don’t think it was a cyclone —but where are we?” She looked around the room. “This is Glinda’s palace, and there’s the Book of Records. I’m going to look in it; maybe I can find out what’s the matter with Ozma.” As she opened the great book, several lines in red caught her eye. Th
ey had already begun to fade, and in the gloom it was difficult to make there out. Dorothy leaned over the book and squinted closely at the red letters in an effort to decipher them.
Suddenly she turned and flung herself on the Lion’s back. “Get us out of here,“ she whispered. “Quick, before someone catches us.“ The Lion, although he did not in the least understand the urgency, sprang through the window and bounded away, not stopping until they were many miles from Glinda’s palace. Finally he halted, and Dorothy slid from his hack.
“What did the Book say?” he panted anxiously.
“Faleero has enchanted the City of Pumperdink and overcome Ozma, Glinda and the Wizard!” puffed the little girl, after she caught her breath.
“What?” roared the Lion. “Nonsense! Ozma’s all right; I saw her myself this evening.”
“That wasn’t Ozma,” insisted Dorothy. “That was Faleero; she must have made herself look like Ozma somehow, so she could take Ozma’s place without anyone finding out.”
“Do you really think she could? Maybe the Book of Records has made a mistake.”
“The Book of Records never makes mistakes,” returned Dorothy grimly. “I should have known it wasn’t Ozma anyway; Ozma would never talk to me like that.”
The Lion rolled over on his back, with all four feet in the air.
“No wonder she was cross. Faleero always was an old crab apple—and at that, she’s probably being very gracious compared with her usual disposition.”
“She probably is,” agreed Dorothy soberly. “But she won’t stay even that nice for very long. She made the Pumperdinkians live on tea and crackers, and punished anyone who played games or had fun. We’ve got to think of some way to get Ozma back before she does anything like that to our friends.”
“She changed her looks, but she couldn’t change her disposition,” mused the Lion.
“I wonder what she did with Ozma.”
“Well, she couldn’t destroy her,” asserted Dorothy positively. “So she probably transformed her into something. We’ll have to find a way to untransform her.”
“Very neatly spoken,” murmured the Lion. “Nothing to it— just untransform her… Has it occurred to you, my dear, that Faleero might not look kindly upon the idea? After all, she must have gone to a great deal of trouble to conquer Ozma.”
“We mustn’t let Faleero know about it until it’s all over,” returned Dorothy severely.
“I hope you’ll let me know about it before then,” said the Lion. “Do you have a plan? This isn’t going to be easy, you know. Faleero must have some very strong magic.“ He shuddered. “If she finds out, she’s going to be furious.”
“We’ll find a way.” Dorothy hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
“Ozma’s been conquered before, but we’ve always been able to save her. Everything will be all right—just wait and see.“ The Lion peered at her sharply. “I must say, you’re taking all this very calmly,” he observed. “You cried just because she was cross with you before, and now you don’t seem worried at all.”
“Oh, I’m worried, all right,” admitted Dorothy. “But now that we know, I’m sure we can do something. And besides, it wasn’t Ozma who was cross with me—it was Faleero. What do I care if she’s cross?”
“She probably has plenty to be cross about,” snickered the Lion. “I bet you made her nervous as a witch.”
“I did,” giggled Dorothy. “I did everything wrong. The first thing this morning I told her I thought something had happened to her—Kettywig is there, too!” she added suddenly.
“Who? “Kettywig—Faleero’s husband. And right now, he’s the Wizard. Faleero’s sister, Falingo, is Glinda; and their maid, Dubra, is Jellia. I wondered why she called me ‘Miss.‘ I couldn’t understand it.”
Jumping to his feet, the Lion peered nervously over his shoulder. “Let’s get going,” he suggested. “This really is a mess, but we’ll decide what to do on the way back to the Palace.”
“We can’t go back there,” protested Dorothy, as she climbed on his back.
“We have to,” answered the Lion grimly. “What’s more, we have to get back before we’re missed. Faleero doesn’t know we’ve found her out, so the safest thing to do is to just act perfectly natural until we decide what to do. Maybe you could melt her with a bucket of water, as you did with the Witch of the West.”
“No.” Dorothy shook her head decidedly. “Faleero’s not a witch. She’s a fairy, so that wouldn’t work.“ The Lion quickened his pace, breaking into a run. “We’ve got to get back before morning,” he puffed. “Faleero will be suspicious if she finds us gone. How did we get here, anyway?”
“That lozenge must have been a wishing pill,” replied Dorothy. “It certainly wasn’t a peppermint. Oh, I remember—the Wizard gave it to me to get to Jack Pumpkinhead’s, but Jack came to the Palace so I didn’t need it. When I swallowed it, just now, I wished I knew what was wrong—and here we are.”
“Here we are, indeed,” grunted the Lion. “The Wizard didn’t happen to give you one to come home, did he? No sense in walking all the way if you have another, ” he added wistfully, slackening his pace.
Dorothy felt in both pockets and shook her head regretfully. “I must have lost it,“ she mourned.
“Oh, well, it would have been too good to be true, anyway,” the Lion grumbled.
“Hang on.” He set off at an incredible pace, but like all cats, strong and swift though he was, he had to stop often to rest, so it was almost dawn by the time they reached the Emerald City.
“The Red Jinn!” exclaimed the little girl suddenly.
“Where?” The exhausted Lion stopped and looked around. “I don’t see him.”
“Of course not; he’s in Ev,” explained Dorothy. “But if we go to him, I’m sure he’ll help us. He saved Pumperdink from Faleero.”
“If we can get to him,” grunted the Lion. “Don’t forget, Ev is on the other side of the Deadly Desert. How do you propose to cross it?”
“I don’t know yet,” answered Dorothy solomnly. “I’ll have to think about it.”
“We’ll both think about it,” promised the Lion. “Now scoot to bed and get a little sleep. Meet me in the garden after breakfast, and we’ll see what we can do.“ Dorothy gave the Lion a parting hug and stole quietly into the Palace and up to her room. Too tired even to undress, she flung herself across the bed and slept.
It was late when she awoke, and there was no one in the breakfast room.
Thankfully, the little girl ate, and ran out to the garden to find the Lion. They sat down together under a big bush which screened them from the Palace.
“I think I’ve thought of something,” confided the child breathlessly.
“Do you remember long ago when the Gnome King made a tunnel under the Desert so he could conquer Oz? The tunnel ended at the Forbidden Fountain. If we could find it, we could go through it under the Desert.”
“I thought Ozma closed it,” objected the Lion.
“Only at this end, where they broke through the ground. The tunnel is still there; all we have to do is find out where it is, dig down to it, and there we are.” Dorothy flung out her hands triumphantly.
“Well, let’s have a look,” rumbled the Lion doubtfully. “Though I must say, I don’t like the idea of burrowing through the earth like a worm.“ Together they hurried to the Forbidden Fountain at the foot of the Palace garden.
The Forbidden Fountain had been given its name because it contained the Water of Oblivion. Whoever drank of it forgot all his past life, good or bad. The Gnome King, together with his gnomes, had built the tunnel under the desert in order to conquer the Emerald City. Acting on the advice of the Scarecrow, Ozma had foiled this plan by filling the tunnel with dust, by means of her Magic Belt. The Gnome King and his allies emerged from the tunnel gasping and choking, hurried to the Fountain and drank. At once they forgot their evil intentions and willingly returned to their underground homes.
Standing by
the Fountain, the Cowardly Lion looked around at the smooth lawn.
“How are we to know where to start digging?” he asked. “We can’t just go around digging holes here and there all over the grass. Faleero wouldn’t like it.“ They looked at each other blankly. Then Dorothy shook her head slowly. “I guess we’ll have to think of something else.”
“Wait a minute,” exclaimed the Lion suddenly. “The tunnel came from the east, didn’t it? Let’s walk east from the Fountain, and wherever we run into a clump of bushes, we’ll dig. That way it won’t show what we’re doing.“ As there were many bushes and trees grouped here and there about the garden, this plan seemed the most practical. But, after digging five deep holes and filling them up again smoothly, they began to lose hope. “We may as well quit,” sighed Dorothy. “We’ll never find it.”
“Let’s try one more place,” proposed the Lion determinedly. “Maybe we haven’t got the direction right. I’m going to try this clump over here to the southeast.“ Dorothy followed him without much hope. They had been digging all morning; the little girl was completely disheartened.