To Rule The Zones, 18/19. NC-17.
Title: To Rule The Zones (Edge of Dawn Sequel)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The Wizard of Oz belongs to Frank Baum and all of the modifications belong to SciFi.
Rating: NC-17 for language and lovingly rendered sex.
Pairing: DG/Cain, Azkadellia/OMCx2
Warnings: This takes place after the SciFi movie and after my story "The Edge of Dawn." This does refer to events occurring within that story, so you need to read that one first.
Summary: DG wanted to start a war with Lurlaine in the Mirror Zone. Little did she realize that it would lead to a war in the OZ as well...
Prior chapters can be found here.
"I can't be Queen," Azkadellia said in horror.
She was standing just outside of Ozma's ruined quarters, the weight of the locket heavy and cold against her chest. It was just sinking in now; Ozma left, giving up her magic yet again to travel and be a figurehead for the Mirror Zone crown. She willingly let herself become a puppet, giving up any claim to the throne.
But Azkadellia didn't want it. She couldn't want it, shouldn't want it.
Della looked at her pale face in concern, and Callan went through his belongings to see if he still had his canteen with him. "Delia, you'll be all right," Della told her gently.
"I can't do this," Azkadellia told him, eyes wide and terrified. "I can't. I can't."
Callan gave up on the water and handed her the flask tucked into his jacket. "Here. Drink up." He smiled at her and avoided Della's glare. "What? A little liquid courage might do the trick to snap her out of it."
Azkadellia downed as much of it as she could in a single gulp, coughing and sputtering afterward. "That tastes awful."
"Yeah, well, rotgut alcohol isn't known for the taste," Callan replied, taking the flask back.
"We don't need a drunk Delia," Della hissed at him.
"Sure we do," Callan disagreed. "You know why she's freaking out." He took Azkadellia's arm gently, stroking the back of her hand. "You know we'll be with you, right, Delia? We're not leaving you to do this alone."
Her eyes watering, Azkadellia looked between the two of them. "But I can't do this. I can't rule this place. I can't."
Della's reply was cut off by the sound of running feet over the stone floors of the palace. "We'll talk about this later, love," he murmured, brushing his lips across her cheek. "We'll figure this out together, you know we will."
The feet belonged to Page, and he stopped short once he saw them. "Well? Have you found her, then? The Ozma? Have you found her?"
Azkadellia saw the blood on the back of his hand, spattered on his shirt. She knew that he would have cared for his blades, but his clothing didn't warrant the same kind of care to a thief. "I..."
"Things went pear-shaped," Callan interjected, his hand on her elbow. "We should talk with the others, I think."
"The throne room wasn't damaged, was it?" Della asked.
"What are you doing?" Azkadellia hissed just as Page shook his head and answered "Still full of jewels and marble. I can't even pry out one."
"Get the others," Della told Page. "Have them meet us in the throne room. We'll be down in a moment and tell everyone what happened. That way, it only has to be told once."
Page nodded and raced off. Azkadellia looked at the two tin men in horror. "What are you doing?" she repeated, staring at them incredulously.
"You're Queen of the Dawn Sanctuary now," Della told her in a soft tone. "You know you are."
"I can't be. This isn't my place and these aren't my people!"
Callan slid his hand along the back of her neck, her dark hair falling down on the other side of his hand. "Exactly. So they don't know about the Sorceress. There's nothing here to make them believe the worst in you. There's nothing there to make them think this is a trick. You can start over, be the Queen you were meant to be before the Sorceress possessed you."
She shook her head, not believing her ears. It wasn't so simple. She had been possessed, but it wasn't as if she hadn't had some control at times. Sometimes she had come up with ideas, or remembered things that the Sorceress had used.
I'm sorry, Aliana told her gently. It was my fault you fear the throne now. I did this to you.
Azkadellia pressed the heels of her hands into her closed eyes. "This isn't right. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be here."
"But the other souls," Della murmured, rubbing her shoulders. He and Callan were standing on either side of her, blocking her view of the blasted corridor. "They belong here. Aren't they related to Ozma? Don't they have a right to the throne?"
A choked sob escaped Azkadellia as she nodded. "I can't... I don't know if I can."
Callan pressed his lips against her temple. "We'll be with you. I'll stay here with you. I don't need some baronetcy in the OZ."
Della chuckled. "That fool as a baron? What was your sister thinking?"
Azkadellia let out a startled laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. "She meant well."
"Now, I could probably be a baron," Della continued with a smile. "But someone's gotta watch over the both of you. So it looks like I'll be sticking around, too."
Azkadellia slung an arm around the both of them. "You both are the only reason why I'm not insane right now. The magic was so much..."
"We could feel it," Callan murmured against her temple. "We knew." His hand slid down from her neck to the small of her back. "C'mon, Delia. Time to meet your public."
Still hesitant and unsure, Azkadellia led the way to the throne room. She was the Three-In-One, and had unraveled Queen Lurlaine. She had taken on the name of Lady Delia of the Silver Enclave as if it was a pretty dress to wear, and this land knew nothing of the Sorceress that Azkadellia had been. She could do this. She could be the Queen if she had to be, but she really didn't want to. She hadn't shed her guilt yet, hadn't figured out a way to deal with the complicity she had hidden from the public in the OZ.
"What's the meaning of this?" Lissa asked, her eyes flashing and her teeth seeming sharper than ever. "What's going on?"
Azkadellia looked over the group of them. It was a much smaller group than before; the golems returned south, Hani, the Ventra and a number of Shadow Brigade generals were dead. So many people dead or dying outside, and Azkadellia couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. It wasn't my war, but it's still my fault. I'm the one that convinced them, she thought grimly.
"Ozma left. She's... You called her a puppet, Lissa, but somehow she's something even worse than that. She left and has no interest in ruling. She had no interest in taking back her own magic when I offered it to her." Her hand unconsciously closed over the locket hanging heavily around her neck, the O and Z engraving flaring to life beneath her palm.
Taking a deep breath, Azkadellia looked up. "She left me Queen of the Mirror Zone."
The entire room had gone painfully silent.
"You're... not kidding," Lissa murmured after a moment.
"This is preposterous," Page muttered, shaking his head. "None of mine are going to recognize such a thing."
"We don't need you," Goren hissed at the thief. "Take the rest of your men and return to the Low Realms. Your services are over, already bought and paid for."
Azkadellia rubbed the side of her face tiredly. It had been a long day, she was exhausted and the petty squabbling that was about to erupt was already making her feel worse.
The Unseelie Court would pledge fealty just because she was DG's sister. The remnants of the Seelie Court would be angry, would hunt her down in retaliation for killing Lurlaine. Or allowing her to be killed, Azkadellia couldn't tell which. The people at large wouldn't necessarily care; politics was too far beyond their day to day concerns. She had stopped the Wheelers from attacking the countryside, and they were likely allies as well.
She sank down into the throne, Callan and Della standing on either side of her. "It's done, no matter what any of us says about it," Azkadellia began tiredly. "Whether you like it or not, Ozma has no intention of ruling and left me in charge. We just have to deal with it now."
Lissa laughed and came forward. "Well, I for one find an alliance with the Dawn might be a good one. It's served us well so far."
Mattoon wheeled up beside Lissa. "My people are indebted to you. My brother found the servants' quarters and the dungeons, and many of our women and children are still there. Our families can be whole now."
Page stomped off as the others assembled in the room began pledging fealty to Queen Azkadellia of the Mirror Zone. Horrified, Azkadellia could do nothing else but accept.
The locket was heavy against her chest, feeling almost as constricting as her corsets used to be. Goren found a heavy coronet in the throne room, a more convoluted item than the one Lurlaine usually wore. It was her special occasion crown, apparently.
Goren put it on her head, and it was a heavy weight, almost crushing her down into the throne.
"Long live Queen Azadellia of the Dawn Sanctuary!" Goren boomed in the throne room.
It was all she could do not to cry when the others began to cheer.
***
Ine'che stopped by DG's quarters at her usual time for lessons and politely knocked on the door. She had conversation with Ataio many times over the past weeks, though never alone and not about anything of import. She suspected that was DG's doing, just to be sure Ine'che was comfortable with her decision to remain in human form.
So she was startled when Ataio opened the door, a look of concern on his face. "You're having her bring back wyverns?"
Ine'che frowned at him and entered the suite. "Is DG here? I can return at a later time if this is inconvenient for you."
Ataio grasped her arm tightly, spinning her around to face him. "Dammit, don't pretend we're strangers, child. Don't insult either of our intelligences."
Ine'che shook off his grip. "She requested designs based on wyverns I had known. She plans to make automatons. Clockwork creatures, rather like the ones at Milltown. What did you think she was planning to do? Create abominations from the dead?"
He had the grace to look ashamed. "Most mortals think of foolish things like that. My Ozma is little more than that, after all."
She rested her hand on his chest, over where a human heart would be. "Not all things born from shadows and grief are evil, Ataio."
He smiled at her and closed his hand on top of hers. "Just so. Even I can forget this truth." He leaned his head to touch his forehead to hers. "Are you well? I haven't been able to ask. Our pupil seems to think herself a chaperone."
Ine'che felt laughter bubble up inside of her. The Queen had suggested as much initially, though the Queen's notions of propriety were old fashioned even among the OZ populace. "She seeks only to protect us from ourselves."
"Did I hurt you much?" he asked, concerned. "I assumed it would be all right..."
"I've already mentioned that," Ine'che murmured. "I've already made my choices."
"I see that," he replied softly, his hand pressing hers tighter against his chest. "I did not lie when I told you of my intentions."
"DG is quite protective," Ine'che said, her lips twitching into a smile. "I believe it takes her mind off of the current political situation. And she's not overly fond of her mother's love of pink."
Ataio couldn't help but laugh. He slid his other hand along the back of her neck, pleased to see her shiver in pleasure. "It might be interesting due to her coloring. But no, I don't imagine she would be pleased with such a thing." He curled his fingers around the back of her neck, the tips pressed along the corded muscle there. "I think our princess inherited much more than any of us had bargained for, even if we did not wish to acknowledge it. I did not want to bring up the possibility in front of her, but part of her feels familiar to me."
"Ozma," Ine'che guessed. "The girl had done many strange things during our travels in the Mirror Zone."
"That creature is no longer of my blood. But yes, the magic within DG does feel like Ozma. I fear that DG's involvement with the Mirror Zone is over now."
"What do you mean?"
"She wished to place Ozma on the throne. But such things are games; Ozma is a revenant, not a person any longer. Such a creature would not be able to rule, could not even begin to handle the responsibilities that it would entail."
Ine'che thought of the party that had traveled between the Zones, of DG's sister, who had deep down been utterly terrified of her own past. "Azkadellia, then."
"I haven't told DG yet what I suspect has happened. She's been busy trying to infiltrate a network of spies and determine if the blockade has succeeded."
"We could assist, possibly. The armies are elsewhere engaged," Ine'che began. "We could move through the blockade and observe the counties for ourselves."
Ataio smiled, his hands tightening over her body fractionally in a possessive move. "I am glad we are in agreement."
Her smile was slow but genuine. "I cannot fly, unfortunately. Not in my wyvern form. Perhaps you would be so kind as to be my transport?"
"Flight?" Atiao's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Ine'che, I am the oldest form of magic there is. I can do what I wish, however I wish and whenever I wish it. Name the county, and we'll be there before you take your next breath."
Green Harbor was the only one that mattered. Ine'che's smile was almost feral. "Let us see what Lord Siba has been doing in his absence. Then we can put DG's mind to rest."
"Done."
Ine'che blinked, and they were standing in the grand courtyard of Lord Siba's castle. The skies were darkened due to the Shadow Brigade's blockade, and the unholy wails from the harbor was like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Most of the flora in the area seemed to be wilted and dying, unless it was the kind that preferred perpetual shadow. There were quite a number of shadow blossoms lining the garden boxes, choking out the other flowers that were dying. Ine'che looked to the castle, and couldn't sense people bustling in it the way they were at the castle in Central City. That castle always had movement and life and purpose. This casle was listless and silent, waiting for the sun to rise again.
"We need to see Siba himself," Ine'che remarked. "He needs to surrender before all of his people are dead."
Ataio nodded and looped his arms around her. His form shifted so that he had large wings to lift them up to the tallest tower of the castle. The surrounding fields were cultivated but faltering, with no hope of harvest. They were dying slowly, the feeble light making it impossible for them to grow. Animals dotted some fields, but they were lethargic and hovering near death. The people were starving, slaughtering animals or each other for lack of food. With the people killing each other for the dwindling resources, it was only a matter of time before the entire county was dead and useless to anyone.
Siba was pacing in his tower room, eyes wide and wild. He was muttering about teeth, how he could see the teeth bared at him. They were coming for him, judging him, the eyes on those teeth looking right through him.
He whirled around at the sight of something moving in his peripheral vision. He saw Ine'che clasped inside Ataio's arms, the black wings fluttering to keep them aloft. "You!" he cried, pointing straight at them. "I won't have it! You will not countermand my orders! You will serve me or die!"
Though there really couldn't have been anything he could do, Ataio watched in concern as Siba yanked open a chest he had been pacing beside. Inside the chest were countless stoppered bottles and flasks, different colored liquids inside. Some looked to contain gases, the vapors held inside but ready to spread as soon as the glass was broken.
He threw one out of the window. Before Ine'che could even scream, Ataio twisted himself and reshaped his form. It was long and serpentine, black as the deepest night. Ine'che was out of harm's way, still clutched in his grasp and clinging to him as they spun. The flask bounced harmlessly off of the scales that had formed along Ataio's back, and his wings were hardly even ruffled at all. The flask fell to the courtyard below, fire sprouting from the liquid inside once the glass was broken.
Ataio swiveled himself around again. His torso was a tight corkscrew around Ine'che, keeping her safe from whatever else Siba might want to throw at them. He bared his teeth at Siba and let two more clawed arms pull away from his body to menace the man.
Siba shouted incoherently at Ataio's nightmarish form, spittle flying from his cracked lips. "You can't have them! This world is mine! The House of Gale belongs to me and no one else! That Slipper can't rule this world!"
Ataio thought of reaching forward with his sharp claws, of slicing Siba open with a single swipe and letting his entrails spill out onto the floor. But Siba began hurling more glass bottles out of the window, and Ataio kept twisting himself into a corkscrew to keep Ine'che and their child safely away from the noxious chemicals and vapors.
Siba leaned too far forward on one throw, pitching forward and hanging out of the tower window. "I'll kill you," he seethed, staring at the darkness that was Ataio. "You won't stop me, demon. I'll kill you and drape your skin over my shoulders like a cloak! My people will rise up and fight the House of Gale, will take over the very land they corrupt! I have my ways. I'll have my reports, and I will have my entry routes into the castle. They will fall at my feet and beg for mercy, and I won't give them any! Your time is done, demon! You can't hurt me and you can't stop me! I win!"
It would be too easy to let him fall to the courtyard below, to have him slip from the windowsill and tuble down to the mess of fumes and flames below. Or to rend him limb from limb and leave him in pieces for his servants to find.
He nearly left, but he felt Ine'che tighten her hold on his coiled body. "Wait, love," she murmured against his form. "Watch what he does."
Siba was rifling through another cabinet and retrieved a bottle filled with lavender fluid. He waved it at them triumphantly. "You're too late! You see? I have the better magic. I have protection from the worst of your demons, and you can't touch me. You can't even come in here, can you? Don't you see? I'm the better ruler!"
He unstoppered the bottle and downed the contents in a single gulp. He convulsed slightly, repulsed by the taste of the concoction. "My own court magician... He knows I see the truth. He knows I see rightly." Siba pointed out of the window, his teeth bared in a lavender-coated grimace. "I am the only good ruler for the OZ!"
"It's shadow blossoms," Ine'che murmured. Atiao heard her through his coiled body, not through the rushing of blood in his ears. "He's poisoned with it."
Out of plants to make Siba the various potions and protections he had requested, the court magician did the only thing he could do when faced with certain death: he lied. He used the shadow blossoms in the courtyard and the dregs of past potions, ground up bits of decaying plants in the fields and bits of bone from slaughtered animals. He took up their innards and tried his best to come up with something to suit Siba's mad needs.
And it was killing him by inches.
Atiao moved back a bit, away from the window as Siba laughed and danced around his tower room. "Yes! This is it!" he shouted, pleased with himself. He took up another bottle full of lavender fluid and drank its entire contents before throwing the bottle out of the window. "I will beat you, demon!" he shouted out of the window, his teeth bared and fists raised. "I see you out there! I see your teeth and claws, and I will be invincible! I see you."
"It might be another month, unless we hurry the process," Ataio murmured to Ine'che. "Could DG tolerate that kind of strain?"
Ine'che snorted. "You know her as well as I do."
Ataio laughed and let his wings beat a gust of wind toward Siba in the tower. It knocked him backward, and he fell into the chest full of lavender potions. Soaked into his skin, the contents of the potion were quickly absorbed.
Siba shuddered, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from sheer terror. He could see the darkness, the shades of black on black on black, the slight silvery-gray glint of eyes and hair, the gnash of teeth and claw. "Green Harbor is mine!" he shouted, "And Ruby Gulch and Caronet might as well be! You can't have them!"
The darkness seemed to laugh at him. It didn't matter. He didn't matter. All of his petty posturing was for nothing. The darkness over the water was full of something terrible, something shrieking and setting the people to cowering in fear. His blood curdled in his veins every time his consciousness acknowledged the sound of those inhuman screams on those ships anchored in his harbor. There were similar screams near his borders; his messenger men either could not cross the borders of darkness or were eaten alive by the darkness. None had returned, and the screaming had continued. That same mad screaming that made his insides run cold and his heart shrivel in his chest. Siba knew fear, primal fear, irrational fear.
"Something in the dark has teeth," he shouted, "but mine will me larger and longer and sharper! I'll taste your heart!"
Ine'che let her fingers sink into Ataio's form. "He's completely and utterly mad. This is more than just the poisoning. The very blockade made him go mad."
Ataio backed away from the tower. "Let's tell DG. She should know this."
Before Ine'che could concur, they were back in DG's suite and Ataio was back in the mortal form that the castle staff recognized. "That is rather unsettling, Ataio," Ine'che murmured, frowning at him. "Are you sure this will do no harm?"
He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close. "There's no harm. Perhaps I don't show off quite as much as I'd like. Have you thought of that possibility?"
Ine'che snorted and pushed him aside. "You just wanted to impress me."
"Did I manage that task?"
Her lips quirked into a smile. "Perhaps."
DG walked in at that moment. She was chewing on a slice of apple in one hand, a platter in the other. "Oh! Sorry I'm late. I swung by the kitchens to get snacks. I'm not sure if food is good now for Ine'che or if you'd throw up, but I figured I'd better have some."
The two older Practitioners nodded. "Very thoughtful. My thanks, DG," Ine'che murmured.
"We have just been traveling," Ataio told her. "We have some news for you."
***
Azkadellia locked herself into the bathroom of the elaborate suite that Lurlaine had been living in. It was the only suite that was declared worthy enough for her in the undamaged part of the castle, but she recoiled at having to live in it. Callan and Della immediately began calling for the head steward and the chatelaine, intending to begin repair to the castle and to arrange for a new place to stay.
She sank to the floor next to the sumptuous tub and pulled her knees to her chest. Aliana and Cliara kept telling her to push the panic away, that being in Lurlaine's quarters wouldn't harm her in the least. And it's different now, Aliana tried to add. I'm not the same anymore, the fragments that hurt you are lost. I won't make those same mistakes, I promise.
Azkadellia felt the enchanted mirror in her pocket. It was digging into her side, and she pulled it out of the pocket. It felt like ages since she last spoke with DG, since she had thought of the OZ at all. She opened the mirror, activating the magic that she and DG had put into it.
After some time, DG came to her own little mirror. "Az!" she cried happily. "Oh my god, I was so worried about you!"
"I'm sorry, Deeg, it's a been a busy three weeks or so..."
"What? What are you talking about? Try months! It's been three months since I last spoke with you!" DG cried, eyes wide with alarm.
Azkadellia thought of Ine'che and her Practitioner souls then. They all had mentioned that the war with Lurlaine had been over three thousand years ago in Mirror Zone time, but it had been roughly a thousand by Outer Zone time. Now it seemed to be running the other way.
But time is relative, Cliara told her. Time has always been relative. Sometimes it sticks, sometimes it runs away. And time is never the same between places.
Azkadellia rubbed the side of her face tiredly. "It's... it's complicated here, I suppose," Azkadellia murmured. "Things are even worse now."
"What are you talking about?"
"Ozma..."
"How is she?" DG interrupted, grinning. "Does she remember me? How is she? Have you seen her yet? Is Lurlaine gone yet?"
"Listen, Deeg," Azkadellia said, frustration coloring her tone. "She left. Ozma left."
"You're kidding me, right?" DG asked, shocked. "Why would she do that?"
Bursting into tears, Azkadellia could only shake her head. DG was concerned, asking if she should come across, if she should do something else, if she had to track down Ozma for her, if she could fix anything.
"You're not listening. Nobody listens! She's gone. She's already gone, she doesn't want to be Queen. Ozma doesn't want to be anything more than an empty shell." Azkadellia covered her eyes and lifted Ozma's locket. "This is all she left. That and her magic, which she gave to us. Didn't you feel it? Didn't you notice? Deeg, you had to have noticed that."
DG fell silent, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry."
"I don't want you to be sorry," Azkadellia said. She felt tired, suddenly. Tired and frayed and frightened of the future. She didn't know how to be Queen through anything but terror, and how would that help the Mirror Zone? How would she be better than Lurlaine, then? How could she get over her fear of herself, if there was nowhere else to go?
"Az..."
"Stop it. Just stop it. I was the older one. I was supposed to protect you from everything, I should have tried harder to get you out of the cave. That was my fault. I should have held on tighter, but I didn't stop you from running. That was my fault. I should have tried harder to fight her off, to stop it from happening. That was my fault. I should have fought her harder when she was inside of me, when she was making me do terrible things. I shouldn't have helped her when I did, and I shouldn't have believed the lies she told me. But I did. I did those things, that is who I was and that is still who I am."
DG's eyes were wet with unshed tears. "Az..."
"Now Ozma made me Queen of this place. This place that doesn't know me, but still I'm capable of terrible and awful things. That's who I am, Deeg. That's what I've been trying to hide from you and Mother. I've been hiding it from everyone. I can't be who you want me to be. I can't be this person for you to save."
"I just want you happy," DG said, voice soft. "I'm sorry I can't help with that."
Azkadellia closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall of the bathroom. "I can try to be better than Lurlaine. But sooner or later, I'll fall back onto what I know. Sooner or later, I'll be this awful person again. I know this, even if they don't. And that's not your fault, it's not anything you can fix. Deeg, you can't fix everything. You can't save everyone. You just can't. It's not possible."
DG wanted to yell at her, even if it was true. She had put off the inevitable attack at Green Harbor, hoping a siege would simply make Siba give up. Now he was mad, and his people were suffering. Her people were suffering.
"I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better," DG said, rubbing at her eyes. "I wish I could tell you how wonderful I think you are and make you believe it."
Smiling wistfully, Azkadellia touched the surface of the mirror with her fingertips. "I like that you try. I like that Paul and Benji try. It's nice knowing that you haven't given up on me yet. But I don't know how to be anything else, Deeg. I don't."
"Do you really think Paul or Benji would let you get that way?" DG asked softly, head cocked to the side. "They're a level headed pair. Do you honestly believe they'd let you turn back into the Sorceress when you're so afraid of it?"
"They'd have to, if I was Queen."
DG snorted. "Az, for someone so smart, sometimes you can be so stupid. They love you. They would never let something like that happen. Never. I'm sure they'd cut off their own feet rather than let you become anything you're scared of."
"Look, Deeg..."
"Okay, I don't listen much sometimes. And I don't always know how this goes. That's a given, we both know it. But I do know people. That's the only thing I know, sometimes. I know that those two will move heaven and earth to make you happy, and that they will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You are the only thing that matters to them." DG looked down and picked up her coronet. It must have been on her lap. "You know how afraid of this thing I was. Maybe just as much as you're afraid of yours."
"Deeg..." Azkadellia began. It wasn't the same thing, wasn't the same kind of fear.
"I'm going to fuck up," DG continued, voice soft. "I don't know how the OZ works, really. I don't know about this royalty business in some ways. So I'm going to fuck up royally." Her lips quirked into an ironic smile. "I think I'm okay with that for right now. I've got Wyatt. And God knows if I ever asked, I'd have Mom and Dad's help. And everyone else's. I'm not really alone in this." DG shook the coronet at the mirror. "This thing is just a thing. It doesn't mean what I think it does. It's just a pretty thing to stick in my hair so my bangs don't fall into my eyes. It'll be like getting dressed up for the prom every damn day, but it isn't as world-ending as I was afraid it was going to be."
Azkadellia watched as DG put the coronet onto her head. "And if it is?"
"People will help me. People will stop me from being the thing I'm afraid of. I can trust in that."
Azkadellia let her hand close around Ozma's locket. Her locket now. "I'm still afraid, Deeg." The tears continued to fall. "I've done so many awful things..."
"I've forgiven you. Mom's forgiven you. And the people here have started to come around. It'll be okay, Az. We're all going to be okay. You have to believe that."
There was knocking on the door. "Delia!" Callan called through it. "We came as soon as we felt it. What's going on in there?"
"We're knocking down the door if you can't answer," Della called out. His voice was more muffled; he must have been standing behind Callan.
DG was laughing on the other side of the mirror. "You see? How can you go wrong if they're around to help you out? How can you be this awful thing if they can feel it when you're upset?"
Sure enough, Della kicked in the door. They stood there in the doorway, concern etched onto their features. Once they realized that Azkadellia was physically all right, they both sat down on the floor with her. They faced her, reaching out for her. She grasped their hands as best as she could, and the tears slowed.
"I wish you were coming back," DG murmured softly. "I miss you. I miss getting to know you, the real you, the sister I remember. But it's okay. We'll have the mirror and whatever visits we can do. And if we have to, we'll just leave ourselves messages for our kids to pass along." She smiled a bittersweet smile at her sister. "You know you're the one that should've been Queen all along, anyway. You'll be a better Queen than you think. You know what to look out for. You'll keep watch for the signs. You'll be okay."
Azkadellia nodded and sniffled. "I love you, DG. Tell Mother and Father I love them, too."
"I will. You and your men take care of yourselves."
The mirror grew dim when DG closed off her end of the connection. Azkadellia looked at Callan and Della, at their tangled fingers. "I'm still scared," she whispered.
"We're not going anywhere," Callan told her.
"Nothing will happen to you," Della said at the same time.
They fell into a tangled huddle as Azkadellia's other two selves whispered, We're going to do this the right way. This time, it will work. This time, it'll be done right.
Azkadellia hoped she could believe it.
***
***
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The Wizard of Oz belongs to Frank Baum and all of the modifications belong to SciFi.
Rating: NC-17 for language and lovingly rendered sex.
Pairing: DG/Cain, Azkadellia/OMCx2
Warnings: This takes place after the SciFi movie and after my story "The Edge of Dawn." This does refer to events occurring within that story, so you need to read that one first.
Summary: DG wanted to start a war with Lurlaine in the Mirror Zone. Little did she realize that it would lead to a war in the OZ as well...
Prior chapters can be found here.
"I can't be Queen," Azkadellia said in horror.
She was standing just outside of Ozma's ruined quarters, the weight of the locket heavy and cold against her chest. It was just sinking in now; Ozma left, giving up her magic yet again to travel and be a figurehead for the Mirror Zone crown. She willingly let herself become a puppet, giving up any claim to the throne.
But Azkadellia didn't want it. She couldn't want it, shouldn't want it.
Della looked at her pale face in concern, and Callan went through his belongings to see if he still had his canteen with him. "Delia, you'll be all right," Della told her gently.
"I can't do this," Azkadellia told him, eyes wide and terrified. "I can't. I can't."
Callan gave up on the water and handed her the flask tucked into his jacket. "Here. Drink up." He smiled at her and avoided Della's glare. "What? A little liquid courage might do the trick to snap her out of it."
Azkadellia downed as much of it as she could in a single gulp, coughing and sputtering afterward. "That tastes awful."
"Yeah, well, rotgut alcohol isn't known for the taste," Callan replied, taking the flask back.
"We don't need a drunk Delia," Della hissed at him.
"Sure we do," Callan disagreed. "You know why she's freaking out." He took Azkadellia's arm gently, stroking the back of her hand. "You know we'll be with you, right, Delia? We're not leaving you to do this alone."
Her eyes watering, Azkadellia looked between the two of them. "But I can't do this. I can't rule this place. I can't."
Della's reply was cut off by the sound of running feet over the stone floors of the palace. "We'll talk about this later, love," he murmured, brushing his lips across her cheek. "We'll figure this out together, you know we will."
The feet belonged to Page, and he stopped short once he saw them. "Well? Have you found her, then? The Ozma? Have you found her?"
Azkadellia saw the blood on the back of his hand, spattered on his shirt. She knew that he would have cared for his blades, but his clothing didn't warrant the same kind of care to a thief. "I..."
"Things went pear-shaped," Callan interjected, his hand on her elbow. "We should talk with the others, I think."
"The throne room wasn't damaged, was it?" Della asked.
"What are you doing?" Azkadellia hissed just as Page shook his head and answered "Still full of jewels and marble. I can't even pry out one."
"Get the others," Della told Page. "Have them meet us in the throne room. We'll be down in a moment and tell everyone what happened. That way, it only has to be told once."
Page nodded and raced off. Azkadellia looked at the two tin men in horror. "What are you doing?" she repeated, staring at them incredulously.
"You're Queen of the Dawn Sanctuary now," Della told her in a soft tone. "You know you are."
"I can't be. This isn't my place and these aren't my people!"
Callan slid his hand along the back of her neck, her dark hair falling down on the other side of his hand. "Exactly. So they don't know about the Sorceress. There's nothing here to make them believe the worst in you. There's nothing there to make them think this is a trick. You can start over, be the Queen you were meant to be before the Sorceress possessed you."
She shook her head, not believing her ears. It wasn't so simple. She had been possessed, but it wasn't as if she hadn't had some control at times. Sometimes she had come up with ideas, or remembered things that the Sorceress had used.
I'm sorry, Aliana told her gently. It was my fault you fear the throne now. I did this to you.
Azkadellia pressed the heels of her hands into her closed eyes. "This isn't right. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be here."
"But the other souls," Della murmured, rubbing her shoulders. He and Callan were standing on either side of her, blocking her view of the blasted corridor. "They belong here. Aren't they related to Ozma? Don't they have a right to the throne?"
A choked sob escaped Azkadellia as she nodded. "I can't... I don't know if I can."
Callan pressed his lips against her temple. "We'll be with you. I'll stay here with you. I don't need some baronetcy in the OZ."
Della chuckled. "That fool as a baron? What was your sister thinking?"
Azkadellia let out a startled laugh that sounded more like a hiccup. "She meant well."
"Now, I could probably be a baron," Della continued with a smile. "But someone's gotta watch over the both of you. So it looks like I'll be sticking around, too."
Azkadellia slung an arm around the both of them. "You both are the only reason why I'm not insane right now. The magic was so much..."
"We could feel it," Callan murmured against her temple. "We knew." His hand slid down from her neck to the small of her back. "C'mon, Delia. Time to meet your public."
Still hesitant and unsure, Azkadellia led the way to the throne room. She was the Three-In-One, and had unraveled Queen Lurlaine. She had taken on the name of Lady Delia of the Silver Enclave as if it was a pretty dress to wear, and this land knew nothing of the Sorceress that Azkadellia had been. She could do this. She could be the Queen if she had to be, but she really didn't want to. She hadn't shed her guilt yet, hadn't figured out a way to deal with the complicity she had hidden from the public in the OZ.
"What's the meaning of this?" Lissa asked, her eyes flashing and her teeth seeming sharper than ever. "What's going on?"
Azkadellia looked over the group of them. It was a much smaller group than before; the golems returned south, Hani, the Ventra and a number of Shadow Brigade generals were dead. So many people dead or dying outside, and Azkadellia couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. It wasn't my war, but it's still my fault. I'm the one that convinced them, she thought grimly.
"Ozma left. She's... You called her a puppet, Lissa, but somehow she's something even worse than that. She left and has no interest in ruling. She had no interest in taking back her own magic when I offered it to her." Her hand unconsciously closed over the locket hanging heavily around her neck, the O and Z engraving flaring to life beneath her palm.
Taking a deep breath, Azkadellia looked up. "She left me Queen of the Mirror Zone."
The entire room had gone painfully silent.
"You're... not kidding," Lissa murmured after a moment.
"This is preposterous," Page muttered, shaking his head. "None of mine are going to recognize such a thing."
"We don't need you," Goren hissed at the thief. "Take the rest of your men and return to the Low Realms. Your services are over, already bought and paid for."
Azkadellia rubbed the side of her face tiredly. It had been a long day, she was exhausted and the petty squabbling that was about to erupt was already making her feel worse.
The Unseelie Court would pledge fealty just because she was DG's sister. The remnants of the Seelie Court would be angry, would hunt her down in retaliation for killing Lurlaine. Or allowing her to be killed, Azkadellia couldn't tell which. The people at large wouldn't necessarily care; politics was too far beyond their day to day concerns. She had stopped the Wheelers from attacking the countryside, and they were likely allies as well.
She sank down into the throne, Callan and Della standing on either side of her. "It's done, no matter what any of us says about it," Azkadellia began tiredly. "Whether you like it or not, Ozma has no intention of ruling and left me in charge. We just have to deal with it now."
Lissa laughed and came forward. "Well, I for one find an alliance with the Dawn might be a good one. It's served us well so far."
Mattoon wheeled up beside Lissa. "My people are indebted to you. My brother found the servants' quarters and the dungeons, and many of our women and children are still there. Our families can be whole now."
Page stomped off as the others assembled in the room began pledging fealty to Queen Azkadellia of the Mirror Zone. Horrified, Azkadellia could do nothing else but accept.
The locket was heavy against her chest, feeling almost as constricting as her corsets used to be. Goren found a heavy coronet in the throne room, a more convoluted item than the one Lurlaine usually wore. It was her special occasion crown, apparently.
Goren put it on her head, and it was a heavy weight, almost crushing her down into the throne.
"Long live Queen Azadellia of the Dawn Sanctuary!" Goren boomed in the throne room.
It was all she could do not to cry when the others began to cheer.
***
Ine'che stopped by DG's quarters at her usual time for lessons and politely knocked on the door. She had conversation with Ataio many times over the past weeks, though never alone and not about anything of import. She suspected that was DG's doing, just to be sure Ine'che was comfortable with her decision to remain in human form.
So she was startled when Ataio opened the door, a look of concern on his face. "You're having her bring back wyverns?"
Ine'che frowned at him and entered the suite. "Is DG here? I can return at a later time if this is inconvenient for you."
Ataio grasped her arm tightly, spinning her around to face him. "Dammit, don't pretend we're strangers, child. Don't insult either of our intelligences."
Ine'che shook off his grip. "She requested designs based on wyverns I had known. She plans to make automatons. Clockwork creatures, rather like the ones at Milltown. What did you think she was planning to do? Create abominations from the dead?"
He had the grace to look ashamed. "Most mortals think of foolish things like that. My Ozma is little more than that, after all."
She rested her hand on his chest, over where a human heart would be. "Not all things born from shadows and grief are evil, Ataio."
He smiled at her and closed his hand on top of hers. "Just so. Even I can forget this truth." He leaned his head to touch his forehead to hers. "Are you well? I haven't been able to ask. Our pupil seems to think herself a chaperone."
Ine'che felt laughter bubble up inside of her. The Queen had suggested as much initially, though the Queen's notions of propriety were old fashioned even among the OZ populace. "She seeks only to protect us from ourselves."
"Did I hurt you much?" he asked, concerned. "I assumed it would be all right..."
"I've already mentioned that," Ine'che murmured. "I've already made my choices."
"I see that," he replied softly, his hand pressing hers tighter against his chest. "I did not lie when I told you of my intentions."
"DG is quite protective," Ine'che said, her lips twitching into a smile. "I believe it takes her mind off of the current political situation. And she's not overly fond of her mother's love of pink."
Ataio couldn't help but laugh. He slid his other hand along the back of her neck, pleased to see her shiver in pleasure. "It might be interesting due to her coloring. But no, I don't imagine she would be pleased with such a thing." He curled his fingers around the back of her neck, the tips pressed along the corded muscle there. "I think our princess inherited much more than any of us had bargained for, even if we did not wish to acknowledge it. I did not want to bring up the possibility in front of her, but part of her feels familiar to me."
"Ozma," Ine'che guessed. "The girl had done many strange things during our travels in the Mirror Zone."
"That creature is no longer of my blood. But yes, the magic within DG does feel like Ozma. I fear that DG's involvement with the Mirror Zone is over now."
"What do you mean?"
"She wished to place Ozma on the throne. But such things are games; Ozma is a revenant, not a person any longer. Such a creature would not be able to rule, could not even begin to handle the responsibilities that it would entail."
Ine'che thought of the party that had traveled between the Zones, of DG's sister, who had deep down been utterly terrified of her own past. "Azkadellia, then."
"I haven't told DG yet what I suspect has happened. She's been busy trying to infiltrate a network of spies and determine if the blockade has succeeded."
"We could assist, possibly. The armies are elsewhere engaged," Ine'che began. "We could move through the blockade and observe the counties for ourselves."
Ataio smiled, his hands tightening over her body fractionally in a possessive move. "I am glad we are in agreement."
Her smile was slow but genuine. "I cannot fly, unfortunately. Not in my wyvern form. Perhaps you would be so kind as to be my transport?"
"Flight?" Atiao's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Ine'che, I am the oldest form of magic there is. I can do what I wish, however I wish and whenever I wish it. Name the county, and we'll be there before you take your next breath."
Green Harbor was the only one that mattered. Ine'che's smile was almost feral. "Let us see what Lord Siba has been doing in his absence. Then we can put DG's mind to rest."
"Done."
Ine'che blinked, and they were standing in the grand courtyard of Lord Siba's castle. The skies were darkened due to the Shadow Brigade's blockade, and the unholy wails from the harbor was like the sound of nails on a chalkboard. Most of the flora in the area seemed to be wilted and dying, unless it was the kind that preferred perpetual shadow. There were quite a number of shadow blossoms lining the garden boxes, choking out the other flowers that were dying. Ine'che looked to the castle, and couldn't sense people bustling in it the way they were at the castle in Central City. That castle always had movement and life and purpose. This casle was listless and silent, waiting for the sun to rise again.
"We need to see Siba himself," Ine'che remarked. "He needs to surrender before all of his people are dead."
Ataio nodded and looped his arms around her. His form shifted so that he had large wings to lift them up to the tallest tower of the castle. The surrounding fields were cultivated but faltering, with no hope of harvest. They were dying slowly, the feeble light making it impossible for them to grow. Animals dotted some fields, but they were lethargic and hovering near death. The people were starving, slaughtering animals or each other for lack of food. With the people killing each other for the dwindling resources, it was only a matter of time before the entire county was dead and useless to anyone.
Siba was pacing in his tower room, eyes wide and wild. He was muttering about teeth, how he could see the teeth bared at him. They were coming for him, judging him, the eyes on those teeth looking right through him.
He whirled around at the sight of something moving in his peripheral vision. He saw Ine'che clasped inside Ataio's arms, the black wings fluttering to keep them aloft. "You!" he cried, pointing straight at them. "I won't have it! You will not countermand my orders! You will serve me or die!"
Though there really couldn't have been anything he could do, Ataio watched in concern as Siba yanked open a chest he had been pacing beside. Inside the chest were countless stoppered bottles and flasks, different colored liquids inside. Some looked to contain gases, the vapors held inside but ready to spread as soon as the glass was broken.
He threw one out of the window. Before Ine'che could even scream, Ataio twisted himself and reshaped his form. It was long and serpentine, black as the deepest night. Ine'che was out of harm's way, still clutched in his grasp and clinging to him as they spun. The flask bounced harmlessly off of the scales that had formed along Ataio's back, and his wings were hardly even ruffled at all. The flask fell to the courtyard below, fire sprouting from the liquid inside once the glass was broken.
Ataio swiveled himself around again. His torso was a tight corkscrew around Ine'che, keeping her safe from whatever else Siba might want to throw at them. He bared his teeth at Siba and let two more clawed arms pull away from his body to menace the man.
Siba shouted incoherently at Ataio's nightmarish form, spittle flying from his cracked lips. "You can't have them! This world is mine! The House of Gale belongs to me and no one else! That Slipper can't rule this world!"
Ataio thought of reaching forward with his sharp claws, of slicing Siba open with a single swipe and letting his entrails spill out onto the floor. But Siba began hurling more glass bottles out of the window, and Ataio kept twisting himself into a corkscrew to keep Ine'che and their child safely away from the noxious chemicals and vapors.
Siba leaned too far forward on one throw, pitching forward and hanging out of the tower window. "I'll kill you," he seethed, staring at the darkness that was Ataio. "You won't stop me, demon. I'll kill you and drape your skin over my shoulders like a cloak! My people will rise up and fight the House of Gale, will take over the very land they corrupt! I have my ways. I'll have my reports, and I will have my entry routes into the castle. They will fall at my feet and beg for mercy, and I won't give them any! Your time is done, demon! You can't hurt me and you can't stop me! I win!"
It would be too easy to let him fall to the courtyard below, to have him slip from the windowsill and tuble down to the mess of fumes and flames below. Or to rend him limb from limb and leave him in pieces for his servants to find.
He nearly left, but he felt Ine'che tighten her hold on his coiled body. "Wait, love," she murmured against his form. "Watch what he does."
Siba was rifling through another cabinet and retrieved a bottle filled with lavender fluid. He waved it at them triumphantly. "You're too late! You see? I have the better magic. I have protection from the worst of your demons, and you can't touch me. You can't even come in here, can you? Don't you see? I'm the better ruler!"
He unstoppered the bottle and downed the contents in a single gulp. He convulsed slightly, repulsed by the taste of the concoction. "My own court magician... He knows I see the truth. He knows I see rightly." Siba pointed out of the window, his teeth bared in a lavender-coated grimace. "I am the only good ruler for the OZ!"
"It's shadow blossoms," Ine'che murmured. Atiao heard her through his coiled body, not through the rushing of blood in his ears. "He's poisoned with it."
Out of plants to make Siba the various potions and protections he had requested, the court magician did the only thing he could do when faced with certain death: he lied. He used the shadow blossoms in the courtyard and the dregs of past potions, ground up bits of decaying plants in the fields and bits of bone from slaughtered animals. He took up their innards and tried his best to come up with something to suit Siba's mad needs.
And it was killing him by inches.
Atiao moved back a bit, away from the window as Siba laughed and danced around his tower room. "Yes! This is it!" he shouted, pleased with himself. He took up another bottle full of lavender fluid and drank its entire contents before throwing the bottle out of the window. "I will beat you, demon!" he shouted out of the window, his teeth bared and fists raised. "I see you out there! I see your teeth and claws, and I will be invincible! I see you."
"It might be another month, unless we hurry the process," Ataio murmured to Ine'che. "Could DG tolerate that kind of strain?"
Ine'che snorted. "You know her as well as I do."
Ataio laughed and let his wings beat a gust of wind toward Siba in the tower. It knocked him backward, and he fell into the chest full of lavender potions. Soaked into his skin, the contents of the potion were quickly absorbed.
Siba shuddered, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from sheer terror. He could see the darkness, the shades of black on black on black, the slight silvery-gray glint of eyes and hair, the gnash of teeth and claw. "Green Harbor is mine!" he shouted, "And Ruby Gulch and Caronet might as well be! You can't have them!"
The darkness seemed to laugh at him. It didn't matter. He didn't matter. All of his petty posturing was for nothing. The darkness over the water was full of something terrible, something shrieking and setting the people to cowering in fear. His blood curdled in his veins every time his consciousness acknowledged the sound of those inhuman screams on those ships anchored in his harbor. There were similar screams near his borders; his messenger men either could not cross the borders of darkness or were eaten alive by the darkness. None had returned, and the screaming had continued. That same mad screaming that made his insides run cold and his heart shrivel in his chest. Siba knew fear, primal fear, irrational fear.
"Something in the dark has teeth," he shouted, "but mine will me larger and longer and sharper! I'll taste your heart!"
Ine'che let her fingers sink into Ataio's form. "He's completely and utterly mad. This is more than just the poisoning. The very blockade made him go mad."
Ataio backed away from the tower. "Let's tell DG. She should know this."
Before Ine'che could concur, they were back in DG's suite and Ataio was back in the mortal form that the castle staff recognized. "That is rather unsettling, Ataio," Ine'che murmured, frowning at him. "Are you sure this will do no harm?"
He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close. "There's no harm. Perhaps I don't show off quite as much as I'd like. Have you thought of that possibility?"
Ine'che snorted and pushed him aside. "You just wanted to impress me."
"Did I manage that task?"
Her lips quirked into a smile. "Perhaps."
DG walked in at that moment. She was chewing on a slice of apple in one hand, a platter in the other. "Oh! Sorry I'm late. I swung by the kitchens to get snacks. I'm not sure if food is good now for Ine'che or if you'd throw up, but I figured I'd better have some."
The two older Practitioners nodded. "Very thoughtful. My thanks, DG," Ine'che murmured.
"We have just been traveling," Ataio told her. "We have some news for you."
***
Azkadellia locked herself into the bathroom of the elaborate suite that Lurlaine had been living in. It was the only suite that was declared worthy enough for her in the undamaged part of the castle, but she recoiled at having to live in it. Callan and Della immediately began calling for the head steward and the chatelaine, intending to begin repair to the castle and to arrange for a new place to stay.
She sank to the floor next to the sumptuous tub and pulled her knees to her chest. Aliana and Cliara kept telling her to push the panic away, that being in Lurlaine's quarters wouldn't harm her in the least. And it's different now, Aliana tried to add. I'm not the same anymore, the fragments that hurt you are lost. I won't make those same mistakes, I promise.
Azkadellia felt the enchanted mirror in her pocket. It was digging into her side, and she pulled it out of the pocket. It felt like ages since she last spoke with DG, since she had thought of the OZ at all. She opened the mirror, activating the magic that she and DG had put into it.
After some time, DG came to her own little mirror. "Az!" she cried happily. "Oh my god, I was so worried about you!"
"I'm sorry, Deeg, it's a been a busy three weeks or so..."
"What? What are you talking about? Try months! It's been three months since I last spoke with you!" DG cried, eyes wide with alarm.
Azkadellia thought of Ine'che and her Practitioner souls then. They all had mentioned that the war with Lurlaine had been over three thousand years ago in Mirror Zone time, but it had been roughly a thousand by Outer Zone time. Now it seemed to be running the other way.
But time is relative, Cliara told her. Time has always been relative. Sometimes it sticks, sometimes it runs away. And time is never the same between places.
Azkadellia rubbed the side of her face tiredly. "It's... it's complicated here, I suppose," Azkadellia murmured. "Things are even worse now."
"What are you talking about?"
"Ozma..."
"How is she?" DG interrupted, grinning. "Does she remember me? How is she? Have you seen her yet? Is Lurlaine gone yet?"
"Listen, Deeg," Azkadellia said, frustration coloring her tone. "She left. Ozma left."
"You're kidding me, right?" DG asked, shocked. "Why would she do that?"
Bursting into tears, Azkadellia could only shake her head. DG was concerned, asking if she should come across, if she should do something else, if she had to track down Ozma for her, if she could fix anything.
"You're not listening. Nobody listens! She's gone. She's already gone, she doesn't want to be Queen. Ozma doesn't want to be anything more than an empty shell." Azkadellia covered her eyes and lifted Ozma's locket. "This is all she left. That and her magic, which she gave to us. Didn't you feel it? Didn't you notice? Deeg, you had to have noticed that."
DG fell silent, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry."
"I don't want you to be sorry," Azkadellia said. She felt tired, suddenly. Tired and frayed and frightened of the future. She didn't know how to be Queen through anything but terror, and how would that help the Mirror Zone? How would she be better than Lurlaine, then? How could she get over her fear of herself, if there was nowhere else to go?
"Az..."
"Stop it. Just stop it. I was the older one. I was supposed to protect you from everything, I should have tried harder to get you out of the cave. That was my fault. I should have held on tighter, but I didn't stop you from running. That was my fault. I should have tried harder to fight her off, to stop it from happening. That was my fault. I should have fought her harder when she was inside of me, when she was making me do terrible things. I shouldn't have helped her when I did, and I shouldn't have believed the lies she told me. But I did. I did those things, that is who I was and that is still who I am."
DG's eyes were wet with unshed tears. "Az..."
"Now Ozma made me Queen of this place. This place that doesn't know me, but still I'm capable of terrible and awful things. That's who I am, Deeg. That's what I've been trying to hide from you and Mother. I've been hiding it from everyone. I can't be who you want me to be. I can't be this person for you to save."
"I just want you happy," DG said, voice soft. "I'm sorry I can't help with that."
Azkadellia closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall of the bathroom. "I can try to be better than Lurlaine. But sooner or later, I'll fall back onto what I know. Sooner or later, I'll be this awful person again. I know this, even if they don't. And that's not your fault, it's not anything you can fix. Deeg, you can't fix everything. You can't save everyone. You just can't. It's not possible."
DG wanted to yell at her, even if it was true. She had put off the inevitable attack at Green Harbor, hoping a siege would simply make Siba give up. Now he was mad, and his people were suffering. Her people were suffering.
"I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better," DG said, rubbing at her eyes. "I wish I could tell you how wonderful I think you are and make you believe it."
Smiling wistfully, Azkadellia touched the surface of the mirror with her fingertips. "I like that you try. I like that Paul and Benji try. It's nice knowing that you haven't given up on me yet. But I don't know how to be anything else, Deeg. I don't."
"Do you really think Paul or Benji would let you get that way?" DG asked softly, head cocked to the side. "They're a level headed pair. Do you honestly believe they'd let you turn back into the Sorceress when you're so afraid of it?"
"They'd have to, if I was Queen."
DG snorted. "Az, for someone so smart, sometimes you can be so stupid. They love you. They would never let something like that happen. Never. I'm sure they'd cut off their own feet rather than let you become anything you're scared of."
"Look, Deeg..."
"Okay, I don't listen much sometimes. And I don't always know how this goes. That's a given, we both know it. But I do know people. That's the only thing I know, sometimes. I know that those two will move heaven and earth to make you happy, and that they will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You are the only thing that matters to them." DG looked down and picked up her coronet. It must have been on her lap. "You know how afraid of this thing I was. Maybe just as much as you're afraid of yours."
"Deeg..." Azkadellia began. It wasn't the same thing, wasn't the same kind of fear.
"I'm going to fuck up," DG continued, voice soft. "I don't know how the OZ works, really. I don't know about this royalty business in some ways. So I'm going to fuck up royally." Her lips quirked into an ironic smile. "I think I'm okay with that for right now. I've got Wyatt. And God knows if I ever asked, I'd have Mom and Dad's help. And everyone else's. I'm not really alone in this." DG shook the coronet at the mirror. "This thing is just a thing. It doesn't mean what I think it does. It's just a pretty thing to stick in my hair so my bangs don't fall into my eyes. It'll be like getting dressed up for the prom every damn day, but it isn't as world-ending as I was afraid it was going to be."
Azkadellia watched as DG put the coronet onto her head. "And if it is?"
"People will help me. People will stop me from being the thing I'm afraid of. I can trust in that."
Azkadellia let her hand close around Ozma's locket. Her locket now. "I'm still afraid, Deeg." The tears continued to fall. "I've done so many awful things..."
"I've forgiven you. Mom's forgiven you. And the people here have started to come around. It'll be okay, Az. We're all going to be okay. You have to believe that."
There was knocking on the door. "Delia!" Callan called through it. "We came as soon as we felt it. What's going on in there?"
"We're knocking down the door if you can't answer," Della called out. His voice was more muffled; he must have been standing behind Callan.
DG was laughing on the other side of the mirror. "You see? How can you go wrong if they're around to help you out? How can you be this awful thing if they can feel it when you're upset?"
Sure enough, Della kicked in the door. They stood there in the doorway, concern etched onto their features. Once they realized that Azkadellia was physically all right, they both sat down on the floor with her. They faced her, reaching out for her. She grasped their hands as best as she could, and the tears slowed.
"I wish you were coming back," DG murmured softly. "I miss you. I miss getting to know you, the real you, the sister I remember. But it's okay. We'll have the mirror and whatever visits we can do. And if we have to, we'll just leave ourselves messages for our kids to pass along." She smiled a bittersweet smile at her sister. "You know you're the one that should've been Queen all along, anyway. You'll be a better Queen than you think. You know what to look out for. You'll keep watch for the signs. You'll be okay."
Azkadellia nodded and sniffled. "I love you, DG. Tell Mother and Father I love them, too."
"I will. You and your men take care of yourselves."
The mirror grew dim when DG closed off her end of the connection. Azkadellia looked at Callan and Della, at their tangled fingers. "I'm still scared," she whispered.
"We're not going anywhere," Callan told her.
"Nothing will happen to you," Della said at the same time.
They fell into a tangled huddle as Azkadellia's other two selves whispered, We're going to do this the right way. This time, it will work. This time, it'll be done right.
Azkadellia hoped she could believe it.
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