"No. That was the beauty of it. He found me. The bigwig was a cinema freak. Showed up. Knew about the old film being found somehow. Already had the perfect Cin-Sims, the only ones available for Emerald City. We made the deal and everyone was happy as clams. Hundreds of thousands of clams."
"You were cheating the theater restoration project of the proceeds of its property," Tallgrass said.
"I donated plenty to them," Ben said, quivering at his friend's anger. "More than they know what to do with. I tell you, everyone was happy."
A moment later, a sizzling bolt of lightning shivered down from high above Emerald City.
"Somebody up there sure isn't," I said.
Outside the complex, thunder cracked its muscles, strained its sinews to the breaking point, and strode the sky to break its back again and again.
Earth below buckled.
Emerald City towers above trembled.
Inside the massive construction, we mere humans were gripped by the oldest gods, caught tight in the fists of thunder and fixed in the fierce eyes of the lightning.
Ric's arm clasped me tight. He whispered in my ear. "El Demonio has failed to find this film on two fronts, at the Augusta Theater and in breaking down Ben Hassard. He's not done. I'm afraid he's loosed his local accomplices, the weather witches, on Emerald City and us. I think they're a bigger force here than we guessed. I'm sorry, Del."
"I'm sorrier," I was able to shout back into the wind. "Weather witches? Like Sheena at WTCH?"
"More than one TV weather girl is behind effects like this," Tallgrass huffed in a basso fury. "Wichita has had an entire secret coven of weather witches going back long before the Millennium Revelation, which only empowered them more. They can blackmail and they can be bought. They've provided weather cover for El Demonio's drug drives. Now that his thugs are chupacabra meat and Ric and Quicksilver scorched a crew of his zombies to ashes, he's bought or forced the weather witches to bring us to our knees until he has what he wants. I can't believe this is all for a few thousand feet of old film footage."
Neither could I. Something much bigger must be at stake.
"I'm sorry," I murmured, knowing no one could hear me.
Snow's Fortress of Solitude was about to be shattered anyway, by ... weather witches and ... me.
Chapter Twenty-seven
BEFORE I COULD corral my scattered thoughts or solve the whole mess or say a word, another crisis invaded the blood-and-body-strewn office.
"Chickens?" Ric demanded as a black-and-white flock flooded the floor with panicked clucking and fluttering wings. "This is insane."
By then the Wizard of Oz CinSims were all homing on Ben Hassard's office like pigeons caught flying in the midst of a Manhattan ticker-tape parade.
"We've got to get to a storm cellar," Hunk, the future Straw Man, said, appearing at my side to grab my arm. "Come along, Dorothy. Forget the dog."
What I'd forgotten was that my hair, after the Emerald City makeover treatment, flowed in black waves to my shoulders, as Dorothy Gale's had after the film's EC make-over scene. I'd also forgotten that my hair was so dark and my skin so white I looked like a ready-made CinSim with colorized blue eyes.
The CinSim Toto skittered past my ankles and I chased him, wishing for a basket.
"Storm cellar?" Tallgrass speculated to Ric. "The hotel must have lower levels."
"I spotted a service door on the way in from the parking lot," Ric answered. "Just outside this office wing."
"There must be one inside as well," Tallgrass said. "Tyohni," he ordered. "Hunt."
"Wait!" I cried, appalled to see Quicksilver bound away into the earth-shaking chaos outside the office area on another person's orders. "Leave kitty!" I screamed.
"Leave the dog, Dorothy!"
Strong, callused hands held my forearms prisoner. The hands of ... farmworkers. The other two Gale farm workmen were not about to let "Dorothy" run out into the storm. Hickory, the Tin Man, and Zeke, the Cowardly Lion, had already shooed Uncle Henry and Auntie Em toward Ric and Tallgrass.
"Come on," Ric said, pulling Hickory and Zeke off me. "I'll take care of Dorothy. You boys get the old folks."
When Quicksilver barked from just down the hall, we herded the party to the door marked mechanics he'd found.
Those Wizard of Oz CinSims were a loyal and determined bunch, but after a small taste of running around at large in Emerald City they weren't too pleased to be jammed back in the basement.