Oz Continued [29] The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumly Thompson

Oz Continued [29] The Wishing Horse of Oz by Ruth Plumly Thompson

Author:Ruth Plumly Thompson [Thompson, Ruth Plumly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Childrens, Classics
ISBN: 9780345337061
Goodreads: 413466
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 1935-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 11

Black Magic

Dorothy and Pigasus were hustled into the Black Castle, rushed down its shiny black corridors and thrust into a great, dark, dome-shaped room, so quickly they had no opportunity to exchange a word.

“Well, anyway, even if it is a dark room we can still see,” whispered Dorothy, as the foresters in their haste to get away from such dangerous prisoners fairly tumbled over each other to get through the door.

“Yes,” puffed Pigasus glumly as the key rasped in the lock, “and the first thing I see is that there are no windows. If there was a window we could fly off. As it is, this witch will make short work of us.”

“I wonder how much magic she really knows,” sighed Dorothy, seating herself wearily on a black velvet stool.

“I wonder!” said Pigasus, flinging himself crossly on the floor beside her. “And what’s all this stuff about your being her worst enemy? Did you really destroy two witches, and could you destroy her?” Although Pigasus had lived in the Emerald City for several years, he was not familiar with all of the history that had taken place before his arrival.

“Oh, all that happened when I first came here,” explained Dorothy, clasping her knees with both hands. “You see, when the cyclone blew me from Kansas to Oz, my house fell on the wicked witch who ruled the Munchkins and killed her. The Munchkins, supposing I had done it on purpose, came out and thanked me and gave me the witch’s silver shoes. Then, when I reached the Emerald City and begged the Wizard, who was ruler of Oz at that time, to send me back to Kansas, he promised to do so if I killed the wicked witch who ruled the Winkies.”

“And did you?” asked Pigasus, rolling over and looking up at Dorothy with real admiration.

“Well, that was sort of an accident, too,” admitted the little girl honestly. “When the Tin Woodman, the Scarecrow, and the Cowardly Lion and I reached the witch’s yellow castle, the witch captured us all and made me work hard from morning till night. But one day,” Dorothy with an anxious eye on the door hurriedly continued, “one day when she tried to steal my silver shoes, I got SO mad I picked up a bucket of water I’d been using for scrubbing and flung it right over her head.”

“And did that destroy her?” Pigasus demanded incredulously.

“Yes,” said Dorothy, “it melted her down to nothing at all.”

“But what about the star? I never noticed that before?”

“That’s where the Good Witch of the North comes in,” answered Dorothy proudly. “Right after my house fell on the Wicked Witch of the West, she appeared and when she discovered I was a mortal she kissed me on the forehead to keep me from harm all the time I was in Oz. It only shows now because I’m black, I suppose.”

“Well, why didn’t it keep you from turning black, if it’s so wonderful?” Pigasus switched his curly tail resentfully.



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