Page 31 of There's No Place Like Oz

His gaze drifted casually down my muscles, then they climbed back up to my face. “How old are you now? Thirty? Fifty? Two hundred? Five?”

“Exactly.” He nodded. “So if not for the witch, you’d have already been a heart sandwich, and you wouldn’t be having this conversation with me right now. Which means I’d be stuck carrying all three of these buffoons myself.”

That elicited an involuntary laugh from deep in my chest. He tried to make it sound like he was being so burdened, but the compliment wasn’t lost on me.

“Funny though—I don’t recall much of who I was before Grunhilda, but somewhere vaguely in my gut, I know I was terribly ordinary and soft. But where I had to forget ingrown compassion, you had to learn it. Amazing how our journeys are the exact opposite, yet the end results are very much the same.”

I didn’t need to ask him to clarify, because I knew exactly what he meant.

Crowe was unexpectedly poignant at times. He was right though. Our lives had granted us an unusual understanding of both extremes. To know the heart of a killer who could slaughter innocents mercilessly, while also holding the heart of a man with desire to love and protect and feel emotion for others. We’d held and lost both feelings, and were now creating our balance with the pieces we could get a hold on. Our souls were like coins that spun on their side for infinity—both faces always present, yet so long as that coin spun fast enough, it was impossible to know which you were looking at.

The softness of Crowe’s resulting smile didn’t suit his face, yet I liked it on him. “The duality of our souls. You should be a poet, Tin Man.

I chuckled.

“I’ll talk to the Wizard about it and see what he thinks.”

We continued on in quiet conversation until the Emerald City was near enough to dwarf us with its grandeur. With the flowers behind us, it wasn’t long before I felt the men in my arms starting to stir. I took a few more steps before placing them gently in the grass beside the yellow bricks, and I waited patiently for them both to fully wake.

I was glad I could help them. While I was closest with Crowe, I enjoyed the continued presence of friendly company. It was hard to believe I’d been allowed to exist among good people. At times, I felt unworthy of being part of their travels at all. Once they knew who I was, I wondered if they would still let me stay. I could only hope that this time, my companions might see me as a savior more than a monster.

While Leon slowly blinked his way into consciousness and Tobias began to stretch, a commotion up ahead drew my attention back to the other two in our party.

“I’m awake okay. You can put me down now.” Dorothy whined while she hit Crowe in the back with her balled fists.

“Nope.” Crowe tightened his hold around her waist, and he secured her with a hand very firmly on her ass. I think I could guess which portion she was drawing objection to. “Can’t risk you carelessly passing out again and hurting yourself.”

“Then how come Tobias and Leon get to walk?” Her protests had a bite of playfulness.

“Because they’re built from meat and metal, and you’re built from glass and marshmallows.” He said, knowing exactly how much that would rile her up.

“What?! I am not. You’d take that back if you ever saw me chop a whole cord of wood in an afternoon. You have no idea the kind of things I’ve endured.” She hit him a few more times before she harrumphed and resolved to her fate.

“Hmmm, you’re right. I guess I’ll have to test those limits later.”

Her face burned red, and I caught myself smirking behind my mask at the exchange. I liked their dynamic, too.

I hoped when all was said and done, we could still keep these simple moments.

Chapter 23

The Emerald City was spectacular beyond anything I ever imagined. The castle spires towered over the high masonry walls built from sparkling green gemstones that encased the city, while even the yellow brick road turned to sage as we approached the entrance. A tall but human sized man in heavy plated armor stood guard at an ornate gate—a welcome sight compared to the munchkins and monsters I’d encountered thus far. I took some amount of relief in the knowledge that there were, in fact, other people at least sort of like me here. I didn’t know how far off the humans of Oz were from the humans of my home, but being among the munchkins, the witch, and the “cursed puppets,” I was starting to feel like a total outlier these days. In Hollywood I was a dime a dozen, and here, I was something unique and special. This might be the first time in my entire life that I’d been able to feel that way about myself.

The guard remained stiff as we approached. “State your purpose.” He demanded, though never making eye contact.

“We’ve come to see the Wizard.” I stated confidently.

The guard didn’t relax in the slightest, but he did take a moment to scan over the lot of us. We must have been quite a sight, between myself: the cute, nonthreatening, normal one (in my opinion), Tobias: the regal and soft looking one, Talos: the rock hard body builder with a metal muzzle, Leon: the tattooed Viking in nondescript animal furs, and Crowe: the red eyed demon of a man whose skin was only one stage warmer than an undead grey.

He opened his mouth in a shape that told me he was about to say no, but then his sights caught on my shoes. He paused and changed those rounded‘no’lips, to a sharper‘right this way.’

The gates creaked loudly on unoiled hinges, and we were escorted through the emerald streets.

I took the time to observe the city around me on the way to that massive central palace. The townsfolk had taken the emerald moniker to an extreme, decorating literally every inch of the space with the deepest green. Even things that shouldn’t be green at all—cats and meat and hair, for example—were dyed or painted. Or maybe cats and hair were naturally green in Oz.Fuck if I know.

My silver shoes tapped on the green cobblestone, past small market stalls and medieval blacksmith shops and shoe cobblers and bakers and leather smiths. Men pulling green rickshaws shuffled past us, hauling around important looking people in olive petticoats, while an armorer fitted a soldier with jade plate mail. In some ways, Oz felt like a dreamlike version of the world I came from, and in others, it was distinctly clear I’d been spirited away to magical fantasy land.

---