Out of Oz (Wicked Years, #4)

by Gregory Maguire

a tired mother, or any old Dame Beaver wanting release from her daughter-in-law. I saw no kidnapped father, and no mother gone AWOL.” “Just because you didn’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” said the phantom of a dog named Killyjoy, who had been sniffing at something dirty and interesting in a bottom drawer that he couldn’t scratch open. “What else didn’t you see?” asked the spiders in a chorus of shrill, pinched voices. “I didn’t see the edge beyond Oz.” “Just because you didn’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” said Killyjoy. “I know,” said Rain. “That’s one thing I know.” “What else didn’t you see?” asked the drawer of bat skeletons, in an uncoordinated recitation that took Rain a while to decipher. “I didn’t see the woman who brought you all here,” said Rain. “Just because you don’t see her doesn’t mean she isn’t there,” said Killyjoy, wagging his ghost tail and panting over his extended ghost tongue. “What else didn’t you see?” asked any number