"Unlock your door," whinnied the high horse impatiently. "Unlock the door, it's only us." Cheeriobed, who expected to see the terrible face of Quiberon, stared up in perfect amazement at the talking horse. It was not, you must admit, a very reassuring sight to see a horse's head coming through the roof, and for a few seconds he was too stunned to move or speak. But as High Boy continued to call loudly for admittance and finally shouted that they were keeping Ozma waiting in the garden, the good monarch sprang up and, unbolting the door, himself admitted the royal rescuers. You can well imagine the King's relief and astonishment when he saw the petrified figure of Quiberon, rearing up over his castle.
"Father! Father!" cried the little Prince, clasping him around the waist. "Here's Ozma and Trot and the Wizard of Oz, and Quiberon never can harm us again."
At the sound of Philador's voice, Queen Orin rushed out to embrace her son and, after hasty introductions and greetings all 'round, the party from the Emerald City filed into the castle. Akbad slunk silently out of sight, as Cheeriobed led Ozma to the throne. Seating Queen Orin beside the little ruler and calling for footmen to bring chairs for the other visitors, the excited King ran to and fro until everyone was seated.
"Just think," puffed Cheeriobed, sinking down at last beside Philador, "we don't even know where your mother's been all these years nor how she escaped and came back to us. My! My! What a lot to be talked over!"
"Talk! Talk! And still no food," groaned High Boy, flopping down beside the medicine man. "I'm hollower than an old soldier's wooden leg!"
"Never mind," comforted Herby, opening his medicine chest. "I have a cure for that too." Taking out two pills and slipping them down High Boy's throat, he winked knowingly. "They will dull the pangs of hunger," he assured him gravely. While High Boy, with closed eyes waited for his pangs to be dulled, Ozma looked happily around the friendly group of Ozure Islanders.
"If we just knew where Tattypoo was," sighed the little fairy girl softly, "there would be nothing more to worry us."
"Worry no longer, Your Highness!" Turning to see where the whisper had come from, Ozma saw Queen Orin arise from the throne.
"I am the Good Witch of the North," announced Orin clearly.