Heart Of Tin Part 3

"I'm sure I don't," I said coldly. "What's your point?"

"She thinks that Oz isn't going to be universally happy about Dorothy's plan to restore the stolen magic."

"Why on earth not?"

"Oh, you know," the Scarecrow said vaguely, waving one cloth hand at the window. "Doubts about the process. Something with the const.i.tution."

"Oz doesn't have a const.i.tution."

"Line of succession," the Scarecrow said. "All of that. You know, people really love their fairies. All those wings and sparkles and whatnot. Dorothy's just a girl. And you have to admit, this whole story about the battle with Ozma is a little suspicious."

"Dorothy is certainly not just a girl," I said sharply. "And what on earth do you mean by suspicious'? Ozma betrayed all of us. Of course it's shocking, but once people realize the truth, they'll know right away that Dorothy only has the good of Oz at heart."

"Shocking, yes," the Scarecrow said mildly. "Quite shocking. Not to mention sudden. Some people are already saying it was a little too sudden, if you get my drift. Dorothy coming back to Oz? Glinda reappearing out of nowhere? Suddenly Ozma's a babbling idiot? Come on, Tin, I know I have all these brains now, but even you aren't that stupid."

"So you're just going to betray Dorothy?" I said in disbelief. "Because of some palace rumor mill?"

"Oh, I didn't say that at all. Not at all. Look at us, Tin. We're back in the Emerald City. Let's face it, we belong here. We're not just helping Dorothy. We're making a better life for ourselves. If Dorothy stays in power, well . . ." He trailed off, his eyes glittering, his expression distant. If I knew one thing for sure in that moment, it was that the Scarecrow had a plan. I wondered if Dorothy knew what it was. If I should keep an eye on him, just in case. Maybe the Scarecrow wasn't just a little sinister. Was it possible he was actually a traitor to the woman I loved?

The Winkies were following this conversation with enormous eyes, and it occurred to me we should probably be more discreet. I jerked my chin toward the chancellor, and the Scarecrow laughed.

"Don't you worry about our little furb.a.l.l.s over there," he said. "I told you, I have an idea for what to do with them. Glinda's shown me some . . . alterations that can be made to Oz's creatures. Nothing drastic, mind you. Just a few improvements."

"Alterations?" I asked suspiciously.

"I've been working exclusively with the winged monkeys," he said, ignoring me. "But I'd love to diversify. I think you're on the right track with this whole army business. Dorothy just wants to frolic around the palace in petticoats and lipstick like the Emerald City is some kind of giant slumber party. But Glinda has a real vision." I made a noise of protest, and he laughed.

"Oh, come now, Tin. I know you're head over heels for the girl, but you have to admit she's done nothing since she got back except play dress-up and use her supposedly all-powerful magic to give herself new hairdos. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, but I'm interested in the bigger picture. And so is Glinda."

Talking to the Scarecrow was like wrestling with an eel. Suddenly everything I'd been trying to say was all turned around. "I think you're all wrong about Dorothy," I said angrily. The Scarecrow only shrugged, and I sighed in exasperation. "Do you really think you can use the Winkies to win her back to my side? What will you do with them?" I asked.

"Think about it," he said, getting excited. "We do need an army; even you figured out that much. But what if we had an army that was invincible? Glinda thinks we can do it with magic, but you and I can't use the magic of Oz that way, not directly. We don't have any power. It may be possible for us to create weapons that use Oz's magic-I'm working on that, too-but right now we can't do much else. But what if I engineered soldiers using magic? She's been helping me the past few days, and I've made all sorts of advances. You wouldn't believe what I've been able to accomplish in such a short amount of time. But my experiments are, um-" He paused, a little sheepishly. "They do sort of eat up resources," he said. "I need new subjects, and quickly. And you've just shown up at the palace with several dozen of them."

"Are these experiments harmful?" I asked. Beheading my unruly subjects was one thing, but turning them over en ma.s.se to the Scarecrow for some kind of creepshow science project was something else.

"Oh no, no, no," he said quickly. "Not really, no. Fatal sometimes, but definitely not harmful. And Dorothy will be so happy when you come to her with a real army instead of these little guys."

"But she said she never wanted to see them again," I said. "So even if you do turn them into soldiers, I'm still not in her good graces."

"They won't really be recognizable when I'm done with them," the Scarecrow said. There was a chilling silence. One of the Winkies at the table made an agonized noise and then clapped his hands over his mouth. "She won't even know they're Winkies. So, Tin, what do you say?"

"I don't know," I said reluctantly. "I mean, they're still my subjects. The Wizard said I was supposed to take care of them."

"They won't feel a thing," the Scarecrow a.s.sured me. "They might even enjoy the process. Just think-all your life, a boring old Winkie, and suddenly you're an enhanced soldier in the princess's army? Not a bad opportunity, right? Plus, Dorothy will never take you seriously as a suitor unless you're willing to do what's necessary."

I didn't entirely like his plan, but that last sentence won me over. "I'll do anything for Dorothy," I said firmly, putting one hand over my heart. Next to me, Norbert started crying again.

"Oh, believe me," the Scarecrow said, his grin growing even more sinister. "I know."

EIGHT.

That night, after I'd moved my things to my official new chambers in the palace-these rooms equipped with a closet I could stand in to sleep, as I'd requested-I stood lost in thought for a long time. Everything in Oz was changing so quickly. Dorothy back, Glinda and the Scarecrow probably cooking up some secret plan behind my back, the Lion chomping down bones in his room in the palace like it was his own home. Except that now the Emerald City was his new home. It was all of ours. I was overjoyed to have Dorothy back-more than overjoyed. I'd thought I would never see her again, and here she was, within reach. But everything else was so confusing, and I wasn't sure how I felt about sharing her with Glinda, the Scarecrow, and the Lion.

Over breakfast, the three of us talked about the first time Dorothy had come to Oz. "Do you remember when you had to rescue me from the poppies?" the Lion roared happily, chomping on a chop and spraying bits of food as he talked. "All those mice!" We laughed, for a moment united again in our shared history.

"Everything was so much simpler then," I said, a little sadly. "We only wanted obvious things. A heart, courage, brains-and Dorothy gave us all of that, and more."

"Of course," said the Scarecrow, eyeing me keenly. "And that's why you must do exactly what she asks of you, Tin." I couldn't help but notice he didn't say "we." When had my friends changed so much? Was it really true that I could no longer trust him? I didn't want it to be, but I couldn't get the thought out of my mind.

Even before I'd known I loved Dorothy, I'd been her champion. When the Wicked Witch of the West had sent wolves to kill us, I'd slain them all without a second thought, to protect Dorothy. I'd done whatever was necessary on our quest to keep her safe. Wasn't killing the Winkie in my courtyard almost the same thing? If it was, why did I still feel so bad about it? Why did everything have to be so complicated now?

I wandered through the palace in a daze for the next few days, confused and often alone. I barely saw Dorothy, who was holed up constantly with Glinda, and if I didn't know better I would have said that she was avoiding me. After that first breakfast the Scarecrow, too, was nowhere to be found, presumably working away at his mysterious experiments. To my surprise, I even missed the Winkies-especially Norbert. He had been a good, reliable, and kind companion over the years, and he knew a tremendous amount about the history of Oz. I should have kept him at my side, I realized belatedly. The Scarecrow didn't need all my Winkies for his project. Norbert would have been good company-and a good adviser in this strange new palace life.

Only the Lion had as much free time as I did, and although I often found him wearisome-all he talked about was hunting-at least when I was around him I didn't have to think about a lot of things I didn't understand. On the rare occasions when the Scarecrow emerged-I'd see him in pa.s.sing, or at meals, which we attended as Dorothy's closest companions even though we didn't eat-he refused to talk about his work other than to say it was progressing well. His clothes were often smeared with blood, and sometimes bits of other, gorier things that I preferred not to examine too closely. He would spend the meal practically bouncing in his chair, and then rush away as soon as the dishes were cleared. "Be patient," the Lion counseled in his meaty-breathed growl. "Only the best for Dorothy, you know." I sighed. Did everyone in the palace know how I felt except her? She, too, sat at meals most of the time, but took the place of honor at the head of the table, where she laughed and carried on with everyone but me. Glinda was always by her side. I tried every day to catch her alone, before or after lunch or dinner, but she always said gently, "Not now, Tin," and hurried away. Could it be possible that I'd disappointed her so much she was avoiding me? The Lion, who witnessed most of these failed attempts, gave me consoling pats on the shoulder as I stared longingly after her glittering heels retreating from me time after time. Those shoes! These days, they were all I could think about, glittering at the back of my mind like my own heartbeat. How could I make Dorothy see me? How could I make her understand how much I cared for her? I had to find a way to make her mine. I simply had to. Even if she couldn't see it, we belonged together.

Finally, one morning a few days after he'd taken away the Winkies, the Scarecrow found me in my chambers, where I was staring out the window. "Are you busy?" he asked politely, though I obviously wasn't. I'd been thinking about how Dorothy might look in a wedding dress, walking down an aisle toward me. Would we marry in the palace? Perhaps the gardens? The Scarecrow cleared his throat.

"Oh," I said, remembering where I was. "No, not really."

He actually rubbed his hands together with glee. "I have something to show you," he said. "Something I think will interest you very much." I waited. "In my workshop," he said impatiently.

I sighed and got to my feet, squeaking audibly. I hadn't been so good about oiling my joints in the last few days. Nothing seemed very important anymore if I wasn't going to see Dorothy.

I followed him through the hallways to the suite of rooms Dorothy had given him. I didn't think we'd been in the palace long enough for the Scarecrow to ama.s.s the kind of clutter that filled his chambers. Every surface was filthy, cluttered with piles of paper and old books and pens and tools. A bookshelf was so stuffed with volumes that they threatened to burst from its shelves. A large table covered in leather straps and mysterious stains dominated one end of the room. Though the day was bright and sunny, the Scarecrow's workshop was as cold as an icebox, and if I hadn't been made out of tin I would have shuddered.

"What did you want to show me?" I asked, trying not to let him see how creeped out I was by his whole setup. I'd known the Scarecrow was weird, but I'd had no idea he was this weird. He gestured toward the broad table, which was covered by a dirty, bloodstained blanket. I moved closer. The blanket was lumpy and misshapen, suggesting it covered something fairly large. Something, I realized, that was moving.

"What is it?" I asked. The Scarecrow smiled.

"Not it," he said cheerfully. "He! An old friend of yours, in fact." He flipped up the bottom half of the blanket, revealing a gruesome mess of b.l.o.o.d.y flesh and metal. I bent down, trying to figure out what I was looking at. It seemed to be the lower half of an animal, but no animal I had never seen. The torso was covered with fur, so stained with blood and grease it was impossible to determine the original color. b.l.o.o.d.y, gaping wounds slashed here and there through the fur, crudely sewn together with thick black thread. "Not all the implants take, you know," the Scarecrow said, seeming just a touch defensive. "This is very complicated work." Where the animal's legs should have been, its torso was fused to a single rusty wheel, like a unicycle. The line where flesh met metal was red and angry, bulging with scabbed-over skin and glistening red meat that looked suspiciously like organs. I swallowed at the gruesome sight.

"I don't understand," I said. "What is this?"

The Scarecrow smiled and clapped his hands together. "Tin, old friend, meet your new general!" he cried, and whipped away the rest of the blanket. I gasped.

The creature strapped to the Scarecrow's table was-or had once been-Norbert. One eye stared sightlessly up at me, but the other side of his face was a mess of metal and wires and exposed bone, the eye socket sprouting a glowing red bulb. His fur was matted with blood and oil, and in other places it had been cut open, revealing the pulsing red of his muscles. One arm ended in metallic pincers, not unlike the implements my own hands had transformed into. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath. "Sir," he wheezed beseechingly. "Sir, it hurts. Please help me." Impossibly, this awful ruin of my former chancellor was alive.

"What have you done?" I whispered.

"I thought you would be pleased!" The Scarecrow beamed. "Unrecognizable, am I right? Unfortunately, most of the other little fellows didn't quite make it through the process, but this one gives me hope. In no time we'll have fully mechanized soldiers for your army. I'll even allow you to be the one who tells Dorothy, as long as you give me proper credit, of course."

"What do you mean, didn't make it through the process?"

The Scarecrow clapped me heartily on the back. "Science involves sacrifice, my boy! You wouldn't know that, I suppose. I've been imagining a project like this for a very long time, you know. Glinda's return has given me the opportunity, and Dorothy's return has given me the excuse. But truth be told, I'm in it for the knowledge, not the power. Just think of what advances I can make next!"

"You killed them?" I asked in disbelief. "All of them?"

"Not killed!" he exclaimed. "Sacrificed. It's not like I murdered them in cold blood! I had no way of knowing they wouldn't be strong enough to survive the initial round of trials. I have a few of them left, though, and soon I'll have them all fixed up and ready to go. This little fellow was my first success. He's a real trouper-no pun intended. Let me put him through his paces for you." He undid the straps that held what had once been my chancellor to the table, lifted him up, and set him on the ground so that he balanced on his wheel. "Show the Woodman your stuff," he ordered. Obediently, the chancellor scooted back and forth, and then creaked around the room in a little circle. His one good eye wept. "Please, sir," he whispered again. "Just make it stop."

"See? Right as rain," the Scarecrow said. "Nothing wrong with him a little oil won't fix, and I'm sure you've plenty of that lying about. It was you who gave me the idea, actually. A machine-animal mix? What could be better. All your st.u.r.diness, with a bit of muscle and brain thrown in for good measure. The soldiers will be engineered not to think too clearly, of course. Wouldn't want them to mutiny. So I suppose they'll take after you more than me." He laughed.

I didn't entirely understand what he was saying. As I watched the chancellor make his horrible circuit of the room, my heart sank. This wasn't what I had wanted at all. Norbert had served me faithfully for years.

"Come now," the Scarecrow said quickly. "Now's no time to be squeamish, Tin. You want Dorothy to be impressed, you have to be willing to go the extra mile."

"She-she approves of this?" I asked, finding my voice.

"Approves! Tin, when you tell her what I've done-what we've done-she'll be over the moon. Look at what you've done for her! Given up your servants, your old life? Transformed these useless little creatures into real weapons? She'll be at your feet!"

"Are you-" I swallowed. Norbert had come to a stop and was leaning against the table, staring dully at nothing. Trickles of fresh blood seeped down his fur. "Are you sure this is the right thing to do? It's what she wants?"

"Dorothy doesn't know what she wants," the Scarecrow said confidently. "It's up to you to tell her. And"-he lowered his voice significantly-"to make sure she knows she wants you. A girl as pretty as that? Someone else is bound to snap her up if you can't manage to tell her how you feel. What better way than with a gift like this?"

I didn't like what he'd done to Norbert, but his words were persuasive. It was true that every gain comes with some kind of cost. Presumably the Scarecrow had perfected his technique, and further sacrifice wouldn't be necessary. And if I could go to Dorothy with an army-a real army-she'd finally forgive me for my missteps.

"But he said it hurts him," I said.

"Hurts him?" The Scarecrow chortled. "Nonsense. Look at him. Happy as a clam." He snapped his fingers in the chancellor's face and Norbert began his squeaky circle of the room again.

"He does seem content," I agreed.

"The process is harmless, really, now that I've got it down. It was Glinda's idea, actually. Magnificent woman. I'd been bandying about ideas, as I said, but she was the one who gave me the final push. She had the idea to start with myself."

"What do you mean?"

He tapped his head with one finger. "The brains the Wizard gave me are helpful, don't get me wrong. But there's so much more I want to know. She helped me soup up my brains-no machine parts, obviously, but magic's the ticket. Once I did that, I was a new man. Dove right into this project, and look how much I've accomplished."

"You're fooling around with the Wizard's gift?"

"The Wizard was a fine fellow, but his magic wasn't even real-not back then, anyway, though Glinda says he might have found his own store of Oz's magic when he controlled the Emerald City. But the stuff she and Dorothy are throwing around, that's the good stuff, my boy, that's the good stuff. She came to me practically the minute she was back in the palace, making an offer I couldn't refuse. You wouldn't believe the leaps I've made with my new, improved brains. I never would have thought to experiment on living creatures of Oz before Glinda used her magic on me, and I never would have been able to do it either." He looked at me keenly. "It's a new order, Woodman. A new time in Oz. We're at the center of it. You're not going to get left behind, are you? I don't think Dorothy would like that."

Dorothy. The Wizard's gifts. The Scarecrow had improved himself so that he could do better. What if I did the same? Then she'd know I deserved her love. If I came to her with an army, and a heart that was even bigger and better? If I showed her I'd done it all for her?

"Can you do something like that for me?" I asked him. "For my heart?"

He smiled. "Had a feeling you might ask. So did Glinda." He turned to the chancellor. "Go fetch Glinda," he said, and Norbert squeaked obediently out the door.

We waited in the dim, cool room until the chancellor wheeled back in, with Glinda hovering above the ground a few feet behind him. Her long, strawberry-blonde hair was braided into an elaborate updo, and she wore a s.h.i.+mmering pink gown that looked like it was sewn from thousands of delicate pink spiderwebs. It fitted closely to her tiny waist and belled out again, cascading down to her pink slippers in s.h.i.+mmering waves. Her nails and lips were painted a matching sh.e.l.l pink, and pink gemstones glittered at her ears and throat. She was not as beautiful as Dorothy, and she never would be in my eyes, but I saw the Scarecrow's point.

"My dearest Woodman," she cooed. "How good it is to see you. The Scarecrow's little pet tells me you are here to improve yourself for the glory of Oz?"

"For Dorothy," I said stubbornly.

Glinda laughed kindly. "Your devotion is admirable, sweet Woodman. Dorothy is certainly lucky to have such a suitor."

"Do you think so?" I asked, allowing my doubt to show.

"Of course," she said gently. "You must understand that Dorothy is very busy right now, and overwhelmed by the responsibility that has been placed upon her shoulders. She's concerned about you-you mustn't ever imagine otherwise-and I know she loves you. But right now she needs you to be brave and strong and self-reliant. She needs you to be there for her, and to ask nothing of her."

"She loves me?" I looked up at her eagerly. "She told you she loves me?"

Glinda's mouth turned up at the corners in a beatific smile. "Not in so many words, but she doesn't have to. It's plain as day. All of us can see it. Can't we, Scarecrow?"

"Oh, sure," the Scarecrow said absently, adjusting one of the chancellor's gears.

"See?" Glinda said to me, beaming. "I told you. It's obvious. Now, are you ready to do your part for Oz-and for Dorothy?"

The Scarecrow turned away from the chancellor, his face alight. "Get him on the table," he said. I made as if to climb on the table myself, but an invisible hand grabbed me and carried me through the air, dumping me unceremoniously on my back. I looked up at the single overhead light that shone down on my chest. "Will this hurt?" I asked.

"You won't feel a thing," the Scarecrow said, looming over me. He held a set of tin snips in one hand and a mysterious, multip.r.o.nged metal tool in the other. I took a deep breath as he began to cut through my chest, peeling back a metal plate about the size of a fist. He was right; I didn't feel anything. Glinda peered down at me, her smile unwavering. There was something almost menacing about the way she was looking at me, but I reminded myself I was doing this for Dorothy.

The Scarecrow lowered his tool into the cavity of my chest and I felt its p.r.o.ngs close around my heart. I gasped in surprise, but Glinda was already moving her hands through the air, summoning that now-familiar glowing red material that filled the room as though we were inside an aquarium. It coalesced into a ma.s.s that hovered over me, pulsing with its eerie light, and as I gazed up into it the glow started to look exactly like a miniature thunderstorm. Red lightning flashed, and thunder boomed through the room. The clouds began to swirl faster and faster, forming a whirlpool that stretched downward into the long funnel of a cyclone. The cyclone's spout reached lower and lower until it touched the metal gadget that held my heart in place.

Energy coursed through me, sending red sparks shooting in all directions. Maybe I should have been afraid, but instead, I felt incredible-as though I held all of Oz in the palm of my hand. No wonder Dorothy was different, if she had power like this. I could control anything, do anything-and I was just a conduit for the power the Scarecrow was channeling into my heart. The little cloth heart floated upward, crackling with light as Glinda's magic poured into it.

"That's enough, I think," Glinda said. Slowly, the cyclone of magic lowered the heart back into my chest. When it was in place, the Scarecrow pulled away his tool and the red light faded, the magical storm dissipating in the dank air of his room. "See?" he said happily. "Piece of cake. Nothing to it. You're a new man." He grabbed a soldering iron off a shelf and briskly patched the hole he'd made in my chest. I sat up slowly, patting the patch. I could feel the difference in my heart. It was difficult to explain. Heavier, but also somehow more real.

"How do you feel?" Glinda asked, moving closer and putting one slender hand on my shoulder.

I looked down at my hands, at the needles and knives that had sprouted up where my fingers used to be. Suddenly they seemed exactly right. They were tools, that was all. Tools I would need in Dorothy's Oz.

"I feel great," I said, and she relaxed a little. Maybe they hadn't been as certain as they'd seemed that the Scarecrow's magic doohickey would work. But that didn't matter now. It had worked, and I was different. Stronger. Braver. Even more ready to do whatever it took to defend Dorothy.

The Scarecrow smiled at me with satisfaction. A little too much satisfaction, if you asked me. How long had he been working in secret on these experiments? What else were he and Glinda keeping from Dorothy? But I was careful not to let my suspicions show. Two could play at that game, and now I had the Wizard's new, improved heart up my sleeve. Or in my chest, as it were. I could feel it ticking away, radiating power.

"Bring in the remaining Winkies and prepare them for their transformation," I said. Norbert looked up at me sadly with his one good eye.

"But sir," he whispered. "This isn't natural. What you've done to me-"

"I've had enough of you," I snarled, striding toward him. "There's no room for dissent in the new order. Scarecrow, I want the next batch more obedient." With one swift, decisive move, I whipped out my hands and cut Norbert's throat. Blood poured out over his chest as he slumped to the ground. "That one was defective," I said. "Do better next time."

The Scarecrow and Glinda looked at me, their expressions unreadable. "As you wish, Tin," the Scarecrow said. "As you wish. Dorothy's army will be the most perfect force I can create. Now go get me some soldiers."

"By the time I'm done," I said, "you'll have every Munchkin in Oz for Dorothy's army." Their delighted laughter echoed behind me as I strode out into the hall.

There was no doubt about it. Dorothy's Oz was going to be a very different Oz indeed.