The Wizard Returns
Page 13
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“Two for the price of one,” he growled. “It’s my lucky day: dinner buffet special.”
“Leave her alone!” Hex said faintly, and the lion laughed.
“I don’t think so, little man,” he said, sneering. “I’m hungry. And when the Lion is hungry, the Lion gets his meal . . . or else.” The Lion? Something about the horrible animal sparked at Hex’s memory as fear flooded through him. The Lion’s voice had a terrible power; across the clearing, Iris whimpered, even though the Lion hadn’t been speaking to her. Hex’s chest flooded with a sick, nameless dread. It was as if the Lion was fear itself, formed into the body of a terrible, powerful creature. “That’s right,” the Lion sneered, gloating. “Now you understand why I rule the forests of Oz. No one can withstand their fear of me. And now, little man, I’ll feed on your terror—and then I’ll feed on you.”
The Lion rose to his feet, lashing his long, sinuous tail like a whip as he advanced toward Hex. His tail. Something about his tail. And then a whole memory came back to Hex, sudden as a tidal wave: a different Lion, a real one, cowering before him, begging for the gift of courage. “Only you can help me,” it cried, its golden fur gleaming in the warm Oz sun. “Please, Wizard! If only I had the courage of a real lion, I could stop being ashamed of myself—I could be free.” So Hex had been a wizard, then—but what kind? Had he somehow created this awful monster out of an ordinary beast? Would he have done something like that? Once, long ago, the Lion had wanted to be braver—but this perversion wasn’t just a creature filled with ordinary courage. Pete had said Oz was changing, its very magic twisted. Was the Lion a part of that? Was this transformation somehow Hex’s fault—or was he a victim of it, too?
He’d deliberated too long, and the Lion had crossed the clearing and was standing in front of him, leering at him. Up close, the Lion’s breath smelled like a slaughterhouse crossed with a sewer.
“Don’t they teach you to brush your teeth in this crazy country?” Hex said, and suddenly he found that his fear had fallen away from him. He remembered: not everything, and not enough, but he knew this terrifying creature had once been something else. Something desperate and even more cowardly than he was. Something ordinary and cowering and meek. And without fear, the Lion had no power over him.
The Lion halted in mid-pounce, rearing back so quickly that he almost fell over backward. “You fool,” he snarled, a menacing growl so deep it almost seemed to come from the very earth itself. “Do you really think you can challenge me and win?”
Hex wasn’t swayed. “Be strong,” he called to Iris. “I’ll be there to help you as soon as I can.”
“Oh-ho!” the Lion chortled, leaping away from Hex and toward Iris. “Have I found your weakness, human? It’s all well and good for you to think I can’t hurt you, but your monkey friend here is a different story.” The Lion stood over Iris, one enormous paw upraised, as though he meant to disembowel her.
“Leave her alone,” Hex hissed, and the Lion laughed, bringing his paw down with all his might—and stopping just short of a killing blow, cuffing Iris roughly on the side of the head.
“No,” the Lion said, “I don’t think I will. But the longer she suffers, the more I get to enjoy watching you squirm. I don’t know who you are, but I don’t like you.” He nipped lightly at Iris’s arm, tearing away a piece of flesh. Iris howled in pain and fear.
Hex suddenly found that he was furious. Furious with Pete, for telling him nothing and leaving him here to battle this awful creature; furious with Iris, for getting herself into such an awful predicament and—worse—making him care about her; and above all else, furious with this disgusting, brutal lion, sneering and tormenting someone so small and helpless. Anger flooded through Hex’s body, and with it something else—a force that seemed to come from the very earth itself. Something strange and powerful rushed through his body, but instead of feeling swept away he realized he was in total control. “ENOUGH,” Hex said, and he could see his voice traveling across the clearing in a roiling wave of dark energy that surged toward the Lion and knocked him to his knees. The Lion roared in anger, springing to his feet again, but Hex held up one hand and pushed against the wall of power, and the Lion flew away from Iris and crashed into a tree.
“I made you what you are, animal,” Hex said, and his voice was as strong and fierce as a thunderstorm. “To me, you are still nothing but a coward. Begone from this place.” He raised his hand again and the Lion rose into the air; with a flick of his fingers, he summoned more power and sent the Lion cartwheeling through space, head over tail, before slamming him into the ground again. The Lion moaned feebly, his own eyes wide with fear. “Now you know how it feels,” Hex said. “Think twice, before you inflict pain on the innocent. And get out of here, before I regret sparing you.” The Lion grabbed his greasy, lashing tail, staring at it in bewilderment, before he shot Hex a look of pure hatred and bounded away through the trees. All the power rushed out of Hex in a flood and he stumbled, almost falling to his knees. Iris was struggling to prop herself up on her elbows. “No!” he said, scrambling over to her. “You must rest. You’re badly wounded.” Up close, he saw just how much blood she had lost, and his heart sank. Her uniform was so soaked he couldn’t even tell its original color. Her eyes were glazed, and her breathing was fast and shallow.
“Leave her alone!” Hex said faintly, and the lion laughed.
“I don’t think so, little man,” he said, sneering. “I’m hungry. And when the Lion is hungry, the Lion gets his meal . . . or else.” The Lion? Something about the horrible animal sparked at Hex’s memory as fear flooded through him. The Lion’s voice had a terrible power; across the clearing, Iris whimpered, even though the Lion hadn’t been speaking to her. Hex’s chest flooded with a sick, nameless dread. It was as if the Lion was fear itself, formed into the body of a terrible, powerful creature. “That’s right,” the Lion sneered, gloating. “Now you understand why I rule the forests of Oz. No one can withstand their fear of me. And now, little man, I’ll feed on your terror—and then I’ll feed on you.”
The Lion rose to his feet, lashing his long, sinuous tail like a whip as he advanced toward Hex. His tail. Something about his tail. And then a whole memory came back to Hex, sudden as a tidal wave: a different Lion, a real one, cowering before him, begging for the gift of courage. “Only you can help me,” it cried, its golden fur gleaming in the warm Oz sun. “Please, Wizard! If only I had the courage of a real lion, I could stop being ashamed of myself—I could be free.” So Hex had been a wizard, then—but what kind? Had he somehow created this awful monster out of an ordinary beast? Would he have done something like that? Once, long ago, the Lion had wanted to be braver—but this perversion wasn’t just a creature filled with ordinary courage. Pete had said Oz was changing, its very magic twisted. Was the Lion a part of that? Was this transformation somehow Hex’s fault—or was he a victim of it, too?
He’d deliberated too long, and the Lion had crossed the clearing and was standing in front of him, leering at him. Up close, the Lion’s breath smelled like a slaughterhouse crossed with a sewer.
“Don’t they teach you to brush your teeth in this crazy country?” Hex said, and suddenly he found that his fear had fallen away from him. He remembered: not everything, and not enough, but he knew this terrifying creature had once been something else. Something desperate and even more cowardly than he was. Something ordinary and cowering and meek. And without fear, the Lion had no power over him.
The Lion halted in mid-pounce, rearing back so quickly that he almost fell over backward. “You fool,” he snarled, a menacing growl so deep it almost seemed to come from the very earth itself. “Do you really think you can challenge me and win?”
Hex wasn’t swayed. “Be strong,” he called to Iris. “I’ll be there to help you as soon as I can.”
“Oh-ho!” the Lion chortled, leaping away from Hex and toward Iris. “Have I found your weakness, human? It’s all well and good for you to think I can’t hurt you, but your monkey friend here is a different story.” The Lion stood over Iris, one enormous paw upraised, as though he meant to disembowel her.
“Leave her alone,” Hex hissed, and the Lion laughed, bringing his paw down with all his might—and stopping just short of a killing blow, cuffing Iris roughly on the side of the head.
“No,” the Lion said, “I don’t think I will. But the longer she suffers, the more I get to enjoy watching you squirm. I don’t know who you are, but I don’t like you.” He nipped lightly at Iris’s arm, tearing away a piece of flesh. Iris howled in pain and fear.
Hex suddenly found that he was furious. Furious with Pete, for telling him nothing and leaving him here to battle this awful creature; furious with Iris, for getting herself into such an awful predicament and—worse—making him care about her; and above all else, furious with this disgusting, brutal lion, sneering and tormenting someone so small and helpless. Anger flooded through Hex’s body, and with it something else—a force that seemed to come from the very earth itself. Something strange and powerful rushed through his body, but instead of feeling swept away he realized he was in total control. “ENOUGH,” Hex said, and he could see his voice traveling across the clearing in a roiling wave of dark energy that surged toward the Lion and knocked him to his knees. The Lion roared in anger, springing to his feet again, but Hex held up one hand and pushed against the wall of power, and the Lion flew away from Iris and crashed into a tree.
“I made you what you are, animal,” Hex said, and his voice was as strong and fierce as a thunderstorm. “To me, you are still nothing but a coward. Begone from this place.” He raised his hand again and the Lion rose into the air; with a flick of his fingers, he summoned more power and sent the Lion cartwheeling through space, head over tail, before slamming him into the ground again. The Lion moaned feebly, his own eyes wide with fear. “Now you know how it feels,” Hex said. “Think twice, before you inflict pain on the innocent. And get out of here, before I regret sparing you.” The Lion grabbed his greasy, lashing tail, staring at it in bewilderment, before he shot Hex a look of pure hatred and bounded away through the trees. All the power rushed out of Hex in a flood and he stumbled, almost falling to his knees. Iris was struggling to prop herself up on her elbows. “No!” he said, scrambling over to her. “You must rest. You’re badly wounded.” Up close, he saw just how much blood she had lost, and his heart sank. Her uniform was so soaked he couldn’t even tell its original color. Her eyes were glazed, and her breathing was fast and shallow.
