Easterly

By Shawna Romkey

Shoes to die for. Shoes to kill for.

They call her the Wicked Witch of the East. They hate her for her magic, her power, her family. But Stazia wants no part of becoming the next Witch Queen of Oz. She'd rather go find a place with no magic where no one makes assumptions about who she is. Then someone drops a house on her and completely ruins her day. Not only do they kill her momentarily, but they take her ruby slippers and leave her for dead.

She hunts the murderer-thief back to Kanzuss to get her shoes back. Without them, her magical energy and her life energy are slowly draining away, not to mention she's trapped in Kanzuss and can't get home.  Without the shoes, she'll be stuck in a sepia-toned world forever until she fades away into nothing.

With the help of a hunky lumberjack and her striped hyena she has to battle Dorothy and the Gales and make a choice: become wicked and kill to get her shoes back, or be stuck in Kanzuss and die on the other side of the rainbow.

She's not wicked. She just wants her freakin' shoes back!

A retelling of The Wizard of Oz with a tornadic twist.

One-click EASTERLY today to see this classic tale from the Wicked Witch of the East's point of view!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shawna Romkey
• Release date: Mar 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781775247821

Book preview

Part I: Oz

Chapter 1

It’s about damn time you showed up! Glinda unfurled a map of Oz across the long, wood table and narrowed her eyes at Stazia.

Stazia shrugged. You know I don’t care about politics. She flopped on a green chaise lounge and crossed her legs. She made a kissy noise and patted the space next to her.

Her striped hyena jumped up, his ringed tail wagging.

Get that damn thing off my chaise! her other sister snarled, her green skin starting to redden.

Keep your hat on, Stazia said, pulling the creature onto her lap. He’s fine. He can sit on me. Can’t you, Spot? she said, talking in baby talk.

The creature licked at her nose.

Giggling came from the giant crystal ball in the center of the room, and Stazia’s attention was drawn to her third sister’s image emanating from it.

Oh, hey, Aurora, she said.

We Skryped her in for this meeting. Glinda laid her long scepter-like wand on one side of the map to keep it from curling up then placed a heavy candle on the other end.

Aurora soaked in a hot tub with steam rising off it. Snowy mountains were her backdrop, and she wore a fur ushanka as an accessory to her ice-blue bikini top. Her signature sapphire circlet was on her forehead beneath her hat. She never took it off. And she perched in the middle of at least two muscular, bare-chested men. Stazia knew from past experience that there were likely more men off to the side who weren’t visible in the crystal glass. Oh, Stazia, how I miss you!

When do you find the time? Stazia asked and rolled her eyes.

Aurora laughed and tipped her drink of choice, her hard arsenic twist, toward her own Skrype stone, the scrying point that transported her image to her sisters’ home at Castle Pythonissia. Touché! A lone wolf howl sounded from Aurora’s background.

Castle Pythonissia was the family estate, the castle of the Witches of Oz. There were currently five Witches of Oz, these four and their mother, who had gone away for a while. They weren’t sure where. Ezmerelda and Stazia lived at the castle. It was just north of Emerald City, and adjacent to Munchkinland. Aurora had chosen to move to an ice castle to the far north of Gillikin County, the northernmost region of Oz, and Glinda had chosen a mansion in the suburbs of Emerald City as her base of operations.

Can we get on with it? I have shit to do, Glinda spat.

Can’t keep the Munchkins waiting? Ezmerelda taunted.

Screw the Munchkins. The Munchkins are simplistic morons, but I have their support. Whose do you have, Ezmerelda? the blonde quipped. The Gillikins? Quadlings? No? How about the Winkies?

Ezmerelda waved her off. I don’t need support, dear sister. I’m next in line to be the Witch Queen of Oz. You seem to always forget that.

Glinda donned her sweet voice. Yes, and you never forget to remind me. But it matters not while that Wizard doofus remains in charge.

Stazia sighed heavily. Can I go?

You just got here! Glinda’s sweet voice never lasted long while she was out of earshot of any citizen of Oz. Why on Oz would you go? You’re second oldest, next in line to the throne after Ezmerelda. Before me, even.

I don’t care. I wouldn’t want it. I wouldn’t know what to do anyway. Plus, there’s the Wizard. Plus Ezmerelda. Plus, once again, the Munchkins are spreading rumors about me. It’s not something I need to worry about, and I don’t need to attend these stupid meetings. Stazia started to bob her crossed leg.

Fine. Glinda eyed her sister up and down. Your striped tights are stupid.

Your face is stupid. It was all Stazia could think of.

I could give you a makeover, Glinda said, gliding next to her sister and lifting Stazia’s long, brown hair by the ends. Your hair is so flat. Why don’t you do something, or at least get a hat and hide it like Ezzy does.

Ezmerelda growled and spun around, and thrust her ratty broomstick in Glinda’s direction. Ezmerelda wore a dress that was all black. It was long sleeved and hit at her ankles. She tried to cover her green skin as much as she could without wearing a bag over her head. Though she did wear the traditional witch hat which had long gone out of style, tucking her black, wiry hair up in a bun underneath it. She covered herself in black from toe to pointed hat on her head.

Glinda wafted over to the mirror and checked her lipstick. Her makeup perfectly done and her gold locks perfectly holding curl 24/7. I’ve tried to do something with that green skin tone of hers, but she refuses me, too. If only Mother hadn’t had that dalliance with a troll—

I’ll destroy you! Ezmerelda lunged toward her sister, but Stazia jumped up, holding her back.

Stazia, always the peacemaker. This is why you invite me to these damn meetings, isn’t it? So I keep you two from killing each other?

Spot growled in the direction of Ezmerelda, who turned and spun away in her long dress.

Aurora laughed from the crystal ball. So what are the Munchkins saying, now?

Once she could see that her sisters had calmed, Stazia explained. Some lunacy about me enslaving them to work for me. Threatening them. It’s completely ridic! I never even go to Munchkinland anymore. There’s so much hate.

Ezmerelda frowned at her sister. That’s quite the accusation.

Stazia picked up a quill and doodled on the map. Something must have tainted their cornfields, or they’ve been smoking the poppies again. It makes zero sense. I’m tired of bothering to try to talk to them. They just run screaming anyway. So, did I miss anything important here? She always purposefully came late to the meetings, and would come up with an excuse to leave early.

"Ezmerelda is still plotting to get rid of the Wizard," Aurora responded, from the massive crystal ball.

We both are, Glinda said in a lilting voice. She drifted back to the war table.

Great. And you, Glinda, have the support of the Munchkins and much of the Quadlings in the south? Aurora asked.

As always.

And Ezzy, you have no support? Stazia asked her older sister. It was a jab. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She loved provoking her sisters because she cared so little about any of the politics of Oz. Ever since her mother lost the election and went away to be on her own, Stazia hated all of it even more. Politics, Emerald City, Oz in general, all of the idiots that lived there. She stopped drawing pics of herself falling asleep, and drew pictures of Munchkins with stupid looks on their faces.

I don’t need support. I have my broom and my minions. Ezmerelda leaned her broom against the table and leaned over it supported by both hands on the map.

Stazia knew deep down her sister longed for support. She’d likely take over someday. The Wizard hadn’t been around long and didn’t seem to know what he was doing. Even though the people in Oz were simpletons and the ones in Emerald City only cared about the latest in fashion products, they’d eventually figure out the Wizard was a fraud. She and her sisters had far greater powers and political status, and if they actually worked together, they could accomplish anything they wanted. The problem was, they didn’t work together. They couldn’t.

Stazia could get along with each of her sisters individually, but was rarely with them one-on-one. Each of them had major issues of her own.

Scandals about her troll heritage plagued Ezmerelda, and she was self-conscious about that. She hated everyone and lashed out because of it. Stazia knew Ezzy was just afraid. But Ezmerelda was tough and fearless, too.

Glinda was a phony, but the idiots bought it. She had pretty hair and a pretty face and wore pretty clothes and talked in a pretty voice. She was the opposite of Ezmerelda. The villagers aspired to be Glinda, so as long as she kept her true self hidden from the public, she’d do okay. Her problem would be waiting. Glinda wanted to be Witch Queen of Oz even more than Ezmerelda did, but Ezmerelda would want to prove herself, maybe even get the people to respect her, like her, maybe even love her.

Aurora was her own woman. Where Glinda was pretty in pink, Aurora was beautiful in blue. Aurora was beyond pretty. She was sleek and voluptuous, her eyes penetrating, her lips full. Aurora was a sexual goddess personified. She could seduce the goddess Ozma herself. But Aurora didn’t aspire for power or position. She aspired to live, to have fun, to be happy. That was probably why she’d left. She was her own woman and lived the way she chose, outside of family, obligation, and duty.

Stazia really didn’t care. She wasn’t interested in politics or royalty. She liked her freedom to do what she wanted, go where she wanted. Kind of like Aurora, but Stazia had simpler goals. She liked walking through the woods, drawing, and playing with her hyena. She sometimes liked going to Emerald City. She liked shoes, well not all shoes, just hers. She glanced down to her ruby slippers and tapped the toes together. Her shoes, though, were special, and she rarely took them off, even at night. Glinda had her wand. Ezmerelda had her broomstick. Aurora had her sapphire circlet. And Stazia had shoes to die for.

The castle has minions, Glinda corrected. Those soldiers belong to all of us.

The volantesimia, you fool! My flying monkeys! Ezmerelda said, her eyes narrowed. Everything she said came out of her mouth like an angry slap.

Right. Gross. They give me the creeps. Glinda scrunched up her nose as though she smelled something foul.

You hate all living creatures. Stazia drew some volantesimia, and glanced at her striped hyena, who remained on Ezmerelda’s chaise lounge despite being asked to get down.

Glinda thought a moment and shrugged. I suppose you’re right. Except for myself. She smiled and did a queenly turn, leading with her hand, her head tilted and a fake smile plastered on her face.

Aurora laughed from the crystal ball, but not at anything happening with her sisters. Oh, Sven, you sly devil!

Ezmerelda jerked the quill from Stazia’s hand as soon as she started drawing a familiar looking green-skinned witch.

Well then, if no one is killing anyone, I’ll show my way out, Stazia said.

"You’ve never killed anyone, and it’s been a while since even Ezzy has, Aurora chimed in. Anyways, I have better things to do at the moment. Don’t I, boys? Bye sissies!" Laughter and splashing sounded from the crystal orb before it blinked off, leaving a gray haze behind.

I don’t see the point in killing, Stazia said to no one, really, since Aurora had signed off. It’s mean.

Glinda giggled. Mean. She giggled more.

Sometimes killing is necessary. Ezmerelda waved her hand over Stazia’s silly drawings and they vanished.

When? Stazia asked.

Sometimes. You shouldn’t rule it out as a general rule. It’ll make it harder to do when it becomes necessary, Ezmerelda said.

Stazia knew what she was referring to. She meant her first kill.

As per usual, nothing was accomplished, Ezmerelda said through clenched teeth.

Yeah, you think you’d get a clue. Welp, anyway, glad I could help. Want to go for a walk, baby? Stazia patted her hands on her striped legs.

Spot barked in reply and leapt off the chaise to her feet.

Glinda made a stink face again, this time aimed toward Stazia. Really, Stazia. I could get you a dress. Your hair is lifeless. Lay off the conditioner. Black tank top? Black tutu? Black-and-white-striped tights and red shoes? Seriously? You can make those shoes a different color, you know? Come to the mansion, and I can make you look presentable. Pink would look good on you. Maybe a pixie cut?

Stazia shuddered. Pink.

You shouldn’t go yet, Stazia. Ezmerelda walked around the table toward her sister. This is your duty, too, you know. With Mother gone…

Stazia knew it. The Witches of Oz should be working together to fix the realm. She cared about Spot, she cared about the innocent people of Oz, and she wanted to help them. But so much had been said lately about how wicked she and her sister Ezmerelda were. So many lies. She was finding it very difficult to care. The people of Oz hate everything we do, so why bother?

They don’t hate me, Glinda said with a sugary smile.

They hate Ezmerelda and me, Stazia countered. I can barely go into the villages anymore. There’s so much vitriol.

They’re just jealous of your powers. Your magic. Glinda took Stazia’s hands and eyed her, until her gaze fell on the ruby shoes.

Stazia pulled her hands away. They can have it. I don’t need it. I don’t do anything of significance with it. I pop here and there. That’s about it. If they hate me so much because of it—

Don’t be so foolish! Ezmerelda said. You’re a magical being. It’s part of who you are. It’s your strength. Don’t let anyone make you feel ashamed of it.

I mean it, Ezmerelda. I hate it. Stazia wandered to the window and gazed outside. I can go without it. It doesn’t help me in the least. I’d much rather have no magic and just live a quiet life in a cottage in the woods. Find a place far away with no magic at all.

Ezmerelda rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest. You’re being ridiculous. If you found a place like that, you’d never survive. A land without magic would be like a land without water or air. Magic courses through us.

Stazia touched her fingers in opposite corners of the crystal pane and pulled them in closer together, ignoring her sister. The scenery outside got smaller, and her range of vision stretched farther out. She did it again, zooming out until very little of Oz was recognizable, and it was almost like she was looking down from the clouds