Page 64 of Witch Queens: Tales from Oz

“Lin, don’t cry, he didn’t mean it.”

I pulled myself into a standing position, ignoring my aching body. Right now, I wished that I had an appointment with Hans in three weeks, or better yet in an hour.

Glinda’s perfectly oval face was framed by her golden curls as she daintily pushed up the sleeves to her baby pink tracksuit. Her eyes seemed bluer than usual as tears threatened to fall.

I gathered her in an awkward hug, “Thank you, for coming to my rescue.”

She sniffed, and in an authentic martyr’s voice, Glinda replied, “It is the duty of a good sister to come to a sibling in need. Even if they don’t deserve it.”

I dropped my arms. Why did I try?

“So, Greggy-poo called you?”

Glinda rolled her eyes; the tears were gone as quickly as they had appeared.

“Did you have to go with hemorrhoids? Honestly, Indy, it was so ill done of you.”

I personally felt like it was one of the best spells I had ever successfully done. I had meant to hurt him, and I did—mission accomplished.

“Did you put him to rights?” I asked impatiently.

“Yes,” her waspish tone surprised me.

At my glance, she continued, “But not before he dropped his drawers to give me a full view of what you had done. Indy, there are some things that a girl can never get out of her mind!”

I winced, “Fair enough. I am sorry you had to deal with him. And I am grateful you came to my rescue.”

“And you will pay for the next years’ worth of appointments with Hans,” she added gleefully.

“I’m not that sorry!” I demanded.

Her face fell, “Six months!”

“Three months and that douche had better fit me in as well.”

Glinda beamed because suddenly everything was once again going according to her plans.

“Come along. We must be going,” she turned on her high-heeled sneakers and went to exit the cell.

“Wait a minute,” I exclaimed, grabbing my shoes, and shoving them on. “We can’t leave Scarecrow.”

“He was mean,” Glinda pouted.

“Scarecrow, tell my sister you are sorry.”

“Not a cold day’s chance in hell, Princess.”

He could be such an ass sometimes.

“We need her to get Greggy-poo to release us,” I said through gritted teeth. “Play nicely!”

There was a deafening silence.

“Please!” I all but yelled at him.

He blew out an exasperated breath, “Dear Glinda, I do most humbly hope that you will accept my apology on behalf of all repressed sleepers everywhere. Because the moment you opened your mouth, I am positive that beings throughout the universe were plagued by the ungodly tone of your voice. It is a tragedy for which I and my eardrums are truly sorry.”

Glinda left us to stew there for another half a day. I think she would have gone longer if Prince Gregory hadn’t been bothering her to such a significant degree.

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