"What do you mean, wherever she is?" said the Lion. "She's right there! Look at her legs sticking out of the ground."
"No. I mean wherever her spirit is. You know that no one can really die."
"Oh, I see," said the Lion. "You mean, whichever level of spiritland she's now in, it's probably not a happy one."
"Yes," said Dorothy. "She's had a chance to learn here. But she has refused to learn. Now she'll be on a very low level with others of her kind. There's very little likelihood of her advancing much unless someone of a higher level is able to break through the barriers of her negativity."
Dorothy sat dejectedly on the tree stump. "Now we've got to find a way to get you all out of here," she said, cupping her face in hands.
Suddenly, the stump began to sink. "Oh, my!" cried Dorothy, jumping up. As she did so, there were several loud popping sounds. The mechanism that had sucked her friends into the ground had now reversed itself. One by one, they all popped out like corks from a bottle.
The last one to pop out was the witch. However, unlike the others, her body lay lifeless upon the ground.
"You must have released the suction by sitting on the tree stump," said the Scarecrow.
"Yes," Dorothy replied. "Now we know what the witch was trying to tell us."
"Too late for her," said the Tin Woodman, looking at her lifeless form. "She's deader than a door-nail."