Remember this: Nothing is written in the stars. Not these stars, nor any others. No one controls your destiny.-Wicked the novel

Somethings I cannot change, but til I try I'll never know-Wicked the musical

Jemmsy took up his post. This would look innocent enough, just a soldier giving himself a shave. The Munchkinlander and the Winkie were lingering by the water spigot. The young maunt offered to fill their waterskins for them. Jemmsy angled his mirror just right so that it would shine in the Munchkinlander's eye, not the Winkie's, that might look suspicions with what was to come. He slid his blade across his chin, pretending not to notice as the Munchkinlander winced and shielded his eyes from the glare. Both of them turned in this direction, exactly as he had been hoping. Perfect. He watched from the corner of his eye as the maunt emptied the powder in to the Winkie's waterskin. A stroke of genius on the Wizard's part. No one would ever suspect her.

He pretended to suddenly realize what he was doing and pocketed the mirror and wiped his blade on his sleeve. He waved an apology to the two men.

Sister Gracine handed them their waterskins back and after thanking her, Fiyero and Boq picked up their conversation, oblivous to what had taken place. "I'm really glad that you and I were able to talk, without Glinda or Crope or Avaric," Fiyero said.

"They're great people, really, except maybe for Avaric, who's just an ass, but they can be a little much sometimes," Boq said, nodding.

"More than a little," Fiyero agreed. "But I am glad. Also, that you are coming along. It makes this a little more bearable. I'm going home with my tail between my legs, essentially. I failed miserably here and I have to go back and tell them all. My tribesmen won't be pleased. And I'll never ehar the end of it from Sarima."

By midday they were ready to go. It was a small caravan with three wagons drawn by oxen. There were also several camels and pack mules. The only passengers were Frex, Shell, Boq, Sister Gracine, Fiyero and Fabala.

The cook eyed Fabala for the soup pot but Fiyero appealed to the lead, a robust woman called Oatsie Manglehand. Inexiplicably, the Goat had taken to bleating instead of speaking. This has something to do with Frex and Shell, Fiyero told himself and feigned ignorance.

Meanwhile, well secure in his lofty palace, the Wizard grinned with a smug sense of accomplishment. During the short time it was in his possesion, he had added his own enchantments to that vile glass. No, that misbegotten Winkie lord wouldn't die, but he wouldn't soon forget what was about to befall him...

Glinda arrived to bid them all adieu. She had reverted to her typical attire, ridiculously opulent. A regular eyesore. "Oh, just look at you boys. Off on some grand adventure into the untamed land. I wish I could join you but Sir Chuffrey is waiting."

Fiyero grinned at her. "Well, I promise you, the next time we meet, I shall be kidnapping you and then you can share in the adventure."

And she laughed. "And I shall hold you to that promise." She pinched his cheek and kissed them both and wafted back into the city.

The caravan trudged forward. The heat was intense, even in the shaded wagons. Fiyero and Fabala dozed in the back of one, while Frex preached fire and brimstone across from them.

By the time Fiyero woke up again, the light was fading. The wagon was moving at a snail's pace but Emerald City was well out of sight. He reached for his waterskin and settled back to sleep some more. He watched Frex for a while, the old man was on a role about the nature of evil, his hands waving as he gesticulated wildly. Fiyero didn't have the heart to tell him that he was a Lurlinist and therefore a pagan, but then the man probably already knew.

He drank. There was a curious tingling sensation at the first swallow. It surprised him and he coughed. There was a sudden sharp pain on the inside of his cheek. He touched the spot that was sore and his fingertip came away red. He wondered at it for a moment, but then dismissed it was him biting himself in his sleep. His throat felt irritated now and he drank more to soothe it.

It felt as though a thousand needles were stabbing his throat. He swallowed convulsively a few times from the shock. Then he gagged and dropped the waterskin. He fell forward onto his hands, sputtering and choking. Both Frex and Fabala were on their feet, bleating and yelling for help.

Fiyero panicked. It felt like his throat and mouth were on fire. Blood spattered on the oaken floor of the wagon and he felt dizzy and disoriented. He reached for Frex's leg, for some reason, he didn't know why, but before he could gain purchase he lost conciousness.

The Wizard watched surreptiously, and with growing pleasure. No one knew would what it was, no one except for Sister Gracine, and that completely suited his purpose. The young maunt would be the one to oversee the treatment and be blameless by default...

Fabala was, of course, beside herself with worry. There was no clue to what it might be, although she was sure this was some scheme of the Wizard's.

Sister Gracine was as baffled as the rest of them. She was, however, in possesion of a wealthy supple of pinlobble leaves. She fed them to him in copious amounts. Fabala was extremely grateful for her kindness, knowing the maunt couldn't do much in the way of a cure, but could atleast subdue his pain.

"I know who you are," he whispered.

She lifted he head and watched him. With all those leaves, surely he couldn't be awake. Somehow, he was. It was dark but she with her improved vision she could make out the glitter of his eyes.

"I know who you are," he repeated.

"Shhh...now. Don't worry on it. You're not well and you should be sleeping."

"I know who you are," he said, a third time.

She sighed. He was probably dreaming after all. So what could it hurt? "Yes, of course you do. You're clever enough to have figured it out. But it doesn't matter right now. I want you to go back to sleep!," she said forcefully. She walked over and rested her head in his lap. His hand fell heavily on top of her and he sighed deeply. She felt his body relax and his breathing slow. He had gone back to sleep, apparently, but this was something she would have little of now.