Glinda folded her arms across the table and lowered her head to rest against her elbow. Maybe if she stayed low and kept her eyes on the sketch she was working on, no one would notice her in the back of the room.

Of course, Nikidik almost always noticed her. And since today's lecture was on the history of Munchkinland, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she would be called out sooner or later.

"Miss Glinda? Perhaps you can tell us the answer."

Apparently it was sooner. Reluctantly, Glinda lifted her eyes to the front of the room. She ignored the burn in her cheeks as she asked, "What was the question, exactly?"

"Failing to pay attention again, Miss Glinda?"

"That would be why I asked, Professor."

Nikidik smirked. "The capital of Munchkinland. Can you tell me what it is?"

"I'm afraid not."

He looked smug. "That's what I thought." He turned back to his desk, but Glinda sat up straighter and spoke a little louder.

"I can't answer, Professor Nikidik, because the question itself is wrong."

A rustle ran through the room as students shifted around, paying closer attention. A familiar energy filled the air—not magic, but something else, something that came from every student, something she hadn't felt since a certain green girl was sitting in class next to her.

Nikidik faced her again. "Is that so?" he asked slowly.

She raised her chin. "You asked what the capital of Munchkinland is. Munchkinland has no capital."

"I believe you are making this question harder than it needs to be, Miss Glinda."

"By setting the facts straight?" she snapped. "It has no capital. If you're referring to the Colwen Grounds, then it is important to remember that, while it is home to the ruling family, their power is closer to that of a mayor or governor than that of a monarch or other form of high ruler. Like every other nation in Oz, Munchkinland is still under the rule of the Wizard, and has no capital of its own."

Nikidik scowled, but he didn't bother asking her where she got her information from. He knew. Everyone in the room knew.

"You know," the professor said, glaring across the classroom. "I had hoped that, with the green bean gone, this class would experience a lot less interruption."

Glinda felt her eyes begin to sting. "Be fair now, Professor," she said, snapping her journal shut. "You're the one who asked the question."

He didn't have a response, and she didn't wait for one. She scooped up her books, threw her bag over her shoulder, and left the room, pushing the door open with just a little more force than was necessary.

Glinda slowed down once she got outside. The campus was pale and dreary, with a wind that bent the trees and bit at her face and fingers. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and crossed her arms over her chest. The sidewalk was covered with leaves, and she made a point of kicking through as many as she could, letting the crunch and scrape drown out her thoughts.

She reached the fountain near the center of campus. It was quiet, the pipes long since shut off for the season. Glinda let the bag fall from her shoulder and sat down on the fountain's edge. Maybe if she just stayed here and breathed for a while she would be calm enough for sorcery class with Morrible. She crossed her legs beneath her and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and letting her fingers brush against the brick and concrete she sat on.

The back of her neck prickled. Glinda tensed, her fingers falling still, and twisted around to look behind her. Her forehead scrunched as she listened hard, but the wind covered up any sounds. She stared at the line of trees, but if there was anything hidden in their branches, it was covered up by the last few leaves that had yet to fall.

Slowly, Glinda picked up her bag and moved away from the fountain. She could go to the sorcery building a little early. As terrible as Morrible's classroom was, at least she knew who was watching her there.

Glinda waited until the last minute to go in. She sat against the wall in the hallway with her bag on her lap and watched her classmates trickle by. They avoided her now, for the most part. Their eyes flickered away from her and they hugged the other wall as they passed. Glinda ignored them, instead frowning down at her hands, but then the bell tower across campus chimed the hour and she was forced to head into the room.

"Good afternoon, class," said Morrible, entering from the opposite side. She gave Glinda a look as the blonde made her way to her table. "We will be continuing our work with alteration and transfiguration, so if everyone could grab their objects from last class. Everyone except you, Miss Glinda."

Glinda slumped in her seat as the others made their way to the cabinets lining one wall. There was a quiet clatter as various mugs or vases were passed around, but it died down as the students returned to their tables and began working. Meanwhile, Madame Morrible approached Glinda and tossed something onto her table.

"Your exercise for the day, Miss Glinda."

It was a bundle of fabric. Glinda reached out and pinched it between two fingers, lifting it slightly. "What's this?"

"A sack of old clothes. Some only need a stitch or two, but others are hardly recognizable. You are to repair them."

Glinda's face burned. "We learned household charms nearly a year ago."

"Then you should have no problem with this." Morrible smirked. "Do make them look nice, too. They're going into a donation bin for Lurlinemas."

Glinda glared at her as she strolled away. She heard a few snickers, but when she looked around the room everyone was focused intently on their work. Sighing, she pulled a blouse out of the bundle and shoved the rest away.

The first time she repaired clothes with magic, she had taught herself. It was the middle of the night, and she had to break into the sorcery building to get the book she needed to fix a dress that had belonged to someone who, at the time, had been nothing more than a hated green bean.

She closed her eyes and imagined it was a year ago. She pretended that the room was empty, that the sky was dark outside, and that the only reason she was doing this was to help someone who needed it.

They're going into a donation bin for Lurlinemas, Morrible had said. Maybe she didn't have to make up that last part.

Her hands moved automatically, spreading the blouse out before her and picking at holes or tears. She pulled spare thread and fabric from the bundle and bent over the table. It wasn't easy. Sweat beaded at her forehead and the muscles in her neck tensed and ached. She worked slowly, carefully, and more than once she heard Morrible's voice from across the room, causing her to tear or burn whatever she was holding at the moment.

But clothes were something she knew, and once she built a rhythm she managed to drown out most of the rest of the classroom. Her movements became natural, her fingers taking over and letting the energy flow through, and her mind was allowed to wander. She thought of Ama Clutch pulling a needle through her latest sewing project. She thought of the ladies she used to stare at through shop windows, stringing together intricate laces as they swapped Frottica's latest gossip.

She thought of Elphaba stumbling into their room, frock ruined and covered in mud because of Pfannee's latest joke. She would no doubt hear all about it tomorrow in class. Oz, what would the girls think of her if they found out she was helping the vegetable? She frowned at the dress and urged the energy to flow faster. The sooner she got back to Crage Hall, the better.

The bell tolled across campus. Glinda jerked back, blinking hard. A memory. She had been completely lost in the memory of the night she fixed Elphaba's dress. Glinda looked around the room, trying to gather her bearings. Her classmates were packing up as Morrible strode around, inspecting everyone's work.

Glinda looked down at her table. Most of the clothes were repaired and folded neatly in a chair beside her. Directly in front of her was a dress, black and plain like the ones Elphaba used to wear. Her eyes widened, but she quickly shook her head and leaned down to finish the patches in the skirt.

"I'm impressed, Miss Glinda," said Morrible, watching her fold the dress and set it on top of the others. "Meet me in my office, once you've cleaned this space up."

Was that an actual compliment? She shook her head again and watched the last of her classmates trickle out of the room. One girl caught Glinda's eye and gave her a small yet gentle smile as she passed. Glinda ignored her and started packing up her things. She scooped the repaired clothes into her arm and placed them on Morrible's desk, then made her way through the building to the headmistress's office.

"Close the door behind you, please."

Glinda did as she was told and moved to her usual seat across from Morrible. The headmistress twirled a letter between her fingers, but all Glinda could see of it was a fancy seal made out of deep green wax.

"What am I doing today?" she asked after a moment, but Morrible shook her head.

"I just want to talk to you. I have an offer for you, Miss Glinda. Or rather, I have been told to inform you of an offer."

Glinda frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember me telling you," Morrible said slowly, "that Oz is always in need of successful sorcerers?"

"Yes." Glinda shifted in her seat. "But I haven't exactly been successful lately."

"Not exactly, no," Morrible agreed. "But you did well today, indicating that there is still hope. Perhaps you are simply due for a little…adjustment."

"Adjustment?"

"A change in scenery, perhaps. Different people."

Glinda felt the hair at the back of her neck stand up. "What is this offer?" she asked, though she was suddenly sure that she didn't want to know.

Morrible studied her for a long moment. "A sorcery position in the Emerald City. You would train with some of Oz's most talented magic users, myself included, and…you would be working for the Wizard."

That was all she needed to hear.

"No."

"Now my dear, I've brought you here to discuss this calmly."

"No." She jumped up from her seat and began to walk out.

"My dear, this is a decision that requires—"

"No," she hissed, spinning around to face the headmistress. "If you think for one second that I'm going to take a job working for—"

Morrible rose suddenly to her feet, cutting her off. "You are living in a schoolgirl's daydream. It is time you take a good look at your life and where you are heading. Even after all this time, your loyalties are sorely misplaced."

"Misplaced or not, they're never going to change."

"Do you realize how dangerous that is?" Morrible demanded suddenly. "Elphaba will end up a traitor to Oz with the way she's been going, and any allegiance to her will come back to haunt you sooner than you think."

Glinda closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. Had this ever been about her sorcery, or was it just another way for the headmistress to control her and Elphaba?

"I don't care. I won't take your offer, Madame Morrible. Not now, not ever."

There would be consequences, she knew. But just the thought of being in that office for another second was unbearable. Glinda turned away again and stormed out, ignoring Morrible's voice calling her name. She turned the corner and, for no reason other than a sudden, absolute need to be out of there now, she ran.

She rushed blindly out of the sorcery building, practically leaping down the front steps. She landed hard and slowed down a little, but she still wasn't looking where she was going when she ran into something warm and solid in front of her.

"Glinda?"

Strong hands steadied her and let go. She looked up to see Fiyero and the rest of the boys, all staring at her.

"Glinda?" Fiyero asked again. "What is it? What's wrong?"

She felt her eyes sting and her shoulders slump. Her bag fell to the ground and she reached out automatically. Fiyero caught her and pulled her into his arms.

"Hey, whoa, it's okay. It's okay, we've got you."

Glinda buried her face in his chest and choked back a cry. She heard Fiyero say something, and then she was being shifted around. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and held her close as he steered her away. She glanced up just long enough to see Boq grab her bag, then tucked her head back into Fiyero's shoulder.

"You're trembling," he said quietly. "Take a deep breath, okay?"

She inhaled shakily, feeling some of the tension leave her body.

"What happened?" Boq asked, but Glinda shook her head.

"Not here," she choked. The sorcery building wasn't twenty feet behind them. "Please, I can't—"

"This way," she heard Crope say. "No one will be out by the lake. It's too cold."

She let herself be led, numbly, through the campus. She was vaguely aware of the boys moving around her—she could practically feel the looks they were giving her—but no one said a word. Fiyero took them to the docks and gently sat Glinda down. She brought a sleeve to her face and avoided everyone's eyes as they settled down around her.

Boq opened his mouth to say something, but Glinda quickly cut him off.

"It was Morrible."

There was no response. She looked up to see the boys all staring at each other. Almost as one, they turned back to her. She rubbed her face again and brought her knees to her chest.

"She…told me about this offer. She wants…she wants me to take this sorcery position…"

"That doesn't make any sense." Boq leaned forward. "I mean, no offense, but aren't you struggling in her class? Why would she offer you this now, when you're not doing well and you didn't even want to continue studying magic anyway?"

Glinda pressed her lips together. "Because it…it's not about my sorcery."

"What do you mean?" Fiyero asked quietly.

"The position is in the Emerald City. I would be working for the Wizard."

Tibbett choked and started coughing. Crope thumped him on the back.

"Sorry," Tibbett said, gasping for breath. "That was just…unexpected."

"No kidding," said Boq. "Glinda, please tell me—"

"I said no," she said quickly. "Of course I said no."

"Hell and Oz," Fiyero sighed. "How could she—why would she ever think you'd—"

"Because she's still trying to control me," Glinda said, her voice cracking. "Even after all this time, even with Elphie gone, she—"

Fiyero wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him. "Don't worry," he told her. "She can't force you to do it. You said no. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

The blonde clung to him, but offered no response. She had said no to Morrible before, and now look where she was. This wasn't over. It would never be over.

But she couldn't even think of how to tell her friends that, so instead she let herself cry in Fiyero's arms, let the others scoot closer and whisper encouragement, let them believe that if they just kept saying it would be okay then maybe it would be.

Peric returned to the underground after a few days. He didn't say much about his trip, but Elphaba was slowly learning not to ask too many questions.

Life continued on in the Emerald City.

They went back to their normal jobs with a boosted sense of confidence, working harder and faster and better than ever. Every so often Elphaba would leave during the day to roam the lower districts, and more than once she heard whispers of a giant Bird the color of night and the cloaked figure who accompanied him.

"Green skin!" she heard one day, just around the corner from the market stand she was looking through. She set down the book she had been skimming and wandered out of sight, still straining to hear the voice.

"You're insane," a man answered. "There's no such thing as a person with green skin."

"I swear, I saw it!" cried the first voice. "That's why she keeps herself so covered up—it's 'cause of the skin!"

"Crazy old hag," the man grumbled. "If you're not going to buy anything, go away."

Elphaba pulled her scarf up further and left quickly.

She started sleeping less, a result of the pseudo-nightmares that had worked their way into her daily routine. Though she no longer thrashed or cried out, she would still jerk awake with the echo of Glinda's voice ringing in her ears. Peric urged her to get some help—try some sleeping potions at least, he had said—but she was too stubborn. She could still pull off jobs, so what did it matter? Besides, she wasn't waking him up anymore. If she could roll onto her back and listen to the Bird's peaceful breathing, she was usually able to fall back asleep.

But then there came one day—when she woke with a jolt and quickly blinked away flashes of pale pink flames and striking blue eyes—that Peric wasn't perched in his nest. In fact, he was nowhere in the room at all.

Elphaba grabbed her boots and slipped them on along with her cloak, then headed out of the room. She made her way through the halls and wandered toward one of the balconies that connected to the main cavern.

The place was nearly empty. She glanced at her watch. Of course it was empty: it was mid-morning. Everyone would be fast asleep after returning from jobs. Everyone except, it would seem, her and Peric.

The Bird was in the air, making circles around the room. Elphaba moved to the edge of the balcony and leaned on the rail, watching him. He soared around the ceiling of the cavern, swerving through stalactites that she had never even noticed before with just a slight tilt of his wings. His dark feathers and the speed and agility with which he moved made it nearly impossible to keep track of him. Elphaba sighed.

It took a while for Peric to notice her—or maybe he knew she was there all along but simply wasn't ready to come back to the ground. Eventually, though, he angled himself down and landed gently on the rail beside her.

"What does it feel like?" she asked. He blinked.

"What does what feel like?"

"Flying."

Peric snorted. "Better than I could ever explain. You should try it sometime."

"Right," said Elphaba. "I'll just grow a pair of wings and have at it."

"Isn't there a spell for that?" he asked, shuffling his wings. "Surely you could think of something."

"Attaching wings to yourself would be incredibly dangerous—not to mention painful."

"Something else, then," said Peric. His eyes were gleaming, and she had the sudden feeling that she was being mocked. "There has to be some way."

"Maybe you could create something to fly around on, but infusing objects with magic is hard. Plus you'd have to make the spell reliable, and I have no idea how you could make it so that it lasts more than just a few uses." She shook her head. "It would take an insane amount of power."

"So…you'll try it sometime."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide the smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth.