"Most historians theorize that the Wizard banished Ozma Tippetarius to a village in the Lesser Kells of the Vinkus," Elphaba informed Glinda as she read aloud from the musty, historical tome they'd stolen.

"Oscar just abandoned a baby in the Vinkun wilderness?" the blonde gasped, clearly outraged.

"No, she was put into the care of a guardian," her green companion explained. "Or, at least, that's what old men who sit around reading scrolls and theorizing think."

"So I guess we'll start checking out small villages in the Lesser Kells," Glinda concluded unenthusiastically. Her gaze swept mournfully around their frothy, luxurious hotel room.

"Don't be a baby," Elphaba chastened. "It'll be fine."

"Says little-miss-nature-girl," the blonde retorted stubbornly. "You spent years living in the wilderness. I've never even been camping."

"Your loss," Elphaba chuckled as she gathered up her broom. "Now stop complaining and let's go. I swear going back in time has turned you into a flouncy little princess again."

/

Several hours of monotonous broom flight later and the two witches were wandering through the twilit streets of a dusty, ragtag village. It was surrounded by thick, bushy trees and, among the copper skinned Vinkuns, Elphaba and Glinda stood out like a pair of sore thumbs.

There weren't any inns in a town this small. Heck there weren't even any two story buildings. Eventually Glinda slumped onto an overturned barrel beside the town's stable in utter defeat. "So what's the plan now?" she wondered. "We've scoured this town for the Ozma…"

"And jobs," Elphaba reminded. Glinda wasn't too keen on hiring themselves out as maids, but there weren't many other opportunities to make money in their present situation.

"And jobs," the blonde huffed reluctantly. "But we've found neither. And now it's getting dark and we're probably gonna have to sleep in the woods."

"Think of Boq and Farrah," Elphaba suggested. "We're doing this for them." Immediately Glinda squared her shoulders.

"You're right," she sighed. "I should stop griping." The green girl grinned wryly.

"Yeah," she agreed. "You probably should." That earned a playful shove.

"Excuse me ladies," creaked a rough, ancient sounding voice. A wrinkly old woman, dressed in a tanned skin jacket and threadbare skirts, had materialized a few feet away. "Did I hear you were looking for work?" the hag wondered.

"Yes," Elphaba replied warily. She drew herself up into a proud, slightly intimidating posture.

"Good," the sagging, flabby woman croaked. "You're hired. My charge has been in need of some lady maids for quite some time. You two look perfect."

"Your charge?" Elphaba's eyes lit up. "What's her name?"

"That's none of your business," the senile hag chastened. "I can't pay you anything, budget's awfully tight, but you'll have quality food and board as long as you work." Glinda glanced uncertainly at her green companion.

"What do you think Glin?" the green witch questioned quietly.

"I think we haven't got much of a choice," the blonde sighed, resigned.

"Great," their new employer cackled. "My name is Mombi, by the way. I think it's only fair to warn you right off the bat that I'm a sorceress; so you two better not try any funny business."

"Great," Elphaba replied in a casually argumentative voice. "I'm a witch myself." In terms of Ozian magicians witches far outranked sorceresses. Mombi fell to quiet grumbling in response to the green girl's comment.

She led Glinda and Elphaba into the gloomy forest. They threaded between trees and briars, following a well worn but fairly haphazard path, until a two story house of fairly good repair reared out of the night. It was bone white and fairly square and conventional as far as houses went.

Inside things seemed bearable enough. The shelves were tidy, the floorboards clean of dirt, and nothing smelled wretched. "You'll sleep upstairs," Mombi informed the witches. "There's one large bed with a mattress and blankets. I've got to warn you against moving about too much though because that old thing creaks like a honeymooner's bedroom." Glinda yawned loudly and leaned against Elphaba's side. "You can take your rest now," the old woman decided. Her raspy voice had taken on a warm, almost motherly characteristic. "I'll explain everything tomorrow."

"Thank you Mombi," Elphaba responded politely. Then she and her blonde friend stumbled upstairs and onto the mattress, which did, in fact, creak like a honeymooner's bedroom.

/

The next morning both girls learned about Mombi's charge. She lived in the basement quarters and was never to be disturbed without reason. "My charge takes a better liking to pretty, friendly girls, so I think Glinda should be her personal maid," the woman explained. "The hatchet faced, moody cabbage can be her cook."

"The hatchet faced, moody cabbage is standing right here," Elphaba snapped. "And I'm a horrible cook."

"Well if you're a witch it should be no trouble conjuring up some grub," Mombi countered. She grinned an awful, toothless grin of triumph.

"Fine," Elphaba growled. Glinda just cast her employer a venomous glare and headed downstairs to draw Mombi's charge a bath.

The basement was much fancier than upstairs. It still wasn't anywhere close to Emerald City standards but there was a parlor of worn but comfortable looking furniture. Someone, probably Mombi, had built a finely tiled bathroom in the back corner. There was a lion claw tub which Glinda set about filling with warm water.

As she waited a sharp gaze settled on the blonde's back. She turned to face a sleep tousled girl, perhaps a year older than her and of Elphaba's height, with golden red hair.

"Ozma," Glinda breathed.