She would emerge. She always had before. The punishing political climate of Oz had beat her down, dried her up, tossed her away—like a seedling she had drifted, apparently too desiccated ever to take root. But surely the curse was on the land of Oz, not on her. Though Oz had given her a twisted life, hadn't it also made her capable?- Wicked the novel

Finally, miraculously, he began to recover. He came out of the death sleep that he had been in and Fabala was overjoyed at this. But Frex used this to his advantage, in an ill-concieved attempt to convert Fiyero. "This, by which I mean, your recovery is proof of the mercy and grace of the Unnamed God. Your salvation is proof of his existance and his love.

Fiyero cleared his throat and said very quietly, "I saw the Other Land in my dreams."

Frex looked astounded. For once in his life, he was speechless. When he finally did find his voice, it was to say, "Truly? Miracle of miracles, that he would bestow such a blessing on a misguided heathen like yourself."

Unexpectedly, Sister Gracine came to his rescue. "Dear Brother Frex, there will be ample time for the Word later, Right now, the patient is weary and troubled. Your sermons will only upset him." And so she shooed the old man away.

Fiyero mumbled toher, and he did sound very tired, "Thank you. Even a misguided heathen needs his rest."

"Oh that..." The maunt rolled her eyes and apologized for Frex. "He means well...but can take things too far. But me, I have enough trouble tending my own soul, how can I be responsible for others?" She paused and asked, "Do you really believe you saw the Other Land?" She kept her voice low as if this were a secret.

He swallowed and looked distressed. He nodded and told her, "It is a terrible place. There is emptiness and everything is gray and without life. Its a wasteland."

Sister Gracine tread with caution. "I should think, and I do not advise, that that would be the bad place you saw. Maybe the Unnamed One WAS trying to reach you?"

"Maybe...," he said, uncertainly.

She looked remorseful and left it alone.

But Fabala had heard and was curious. "What did you see?" she asked. But he kept the details to himself.

Kiamo Ko drew nearer and little by little, Fiyero regained his strength. By the second day he was able to leave the cot they had set up especially for him. The third, he moved about the wagon. Although these efforts wore him out quickly, he pushed himself. The fourth day he walked awhile in the fresh air before retiring from exhaustion. By the fifth day they reached the mountain strong hold.

Sarima bustled out onto the rocky slopes to greet her husband, with her sisters following closely behind. The children were not in evidence.

They met and embraced and he kissed her. The younger women began to fawn on him, to mixed reactions from his companions. Frex thought, "Well, I certainly have my work cut out for me." Boq wondered why Fiyero hadn't mentioned this, and Shell wished it was him in that position, while Fabala felt the first bitter sting of disenchantment.

Fiyero welcomed the three Munchkinlanders into his castle. Six stopped short at this announcement.. She looked straight at Shell and said without preamble, "You're a Munchkinlander?" This was a new concept to her, that he should be so tall and she told him so.

Frex snorted, having a good three or four inches on his son, and that he should be overlooked by her. "It is only the common folk among us that are small. My son and I are of the Eminence line. Hardly peasants."

"Common!" Boq cried, outraged. But Fiyero had come over and put his hand on his friends shoulder. Frex took no notice of this and Six detached herself from theothers and sidled up to Shell, which did not escape his notice.

Fiyero retired to the Solar with Sarima, almost immediatly, leaving the rest to wonder if he was really that impatient. In truth, nothing happened between them. Fiyero was still worn out and weak from his sickness and just wanted to sleep. "I had a bleeding disease, on the way here," he explained to her. She sighed audibly and looked put out. He ignored her and fell asleep.

There were no more dreams of the Other Land, he was pleased to note. He stayed in bed for a few days. It was soft and plush and he was still feeling out of sorts. Sarima was in and out. Fiyero slept often, hoping to recover quickly.

Fabala came after awhile, and they spoke at length. "The tribal council is waiting for me. I don't know what I will tell them."

"Tell the truth."

"Not so easy. They will think I am weak and scared and that is why I failed." He paused and sighed. "I am scared of the Wizard. He could easily crush us. How can we possibly we fight him?"

She shook her head in dismay. "This is what he wants. For you to doubt yourself and the fear and inaction that it inspires, while his troops march on your land. He hopes to frighten you into submission while sowing discord in the villages and camps, hoping that they will rise against you and yours. It is a stroke of genius," she admitted reluctantly.

"He poisoned me. I was careful and somehow he managed to do it. I am not given to cower but this is beyond our ability. We simply do not have the strength to repel him. It is hopeless."

"Don't think that, not ever! Give yourself time to recover and then go to your council and tell them to prepare to summon the Scrow. Make the alliance. It is the last thing he will expect. Its what he fears from of the West."

"And then what?"

"And then you let him make the first move. After that strike hard and fast."

"My people are not expendable," he told her, sounding a little angry. "There are so few of us...what if his attack devastates the tribe?"

But she didn't know how to answer that.

An Arjiki messenger came the next day with the news that Joleki, a warrior-hunter, had been spearing fish in the Vinkus River had slipped and drowned. Fiyero frowned at this distressing news. Joleki had been a close friend and somewhat of an adviser. He was also one of the best hunters in the tribe.

"Prepare the funeral feast. Wait-was there any sign that this was not an accident?" A death caused by anger might infect the tribespeople with its malice. In those cases, as well as those stricken with disease, the body would have to be burned, which called for a different ceremony.

"Spirit Walker Rexani spoke to the river and was told no. River told her that he took Joleki, not a person."

Fiyero nodded, finding some relief in knowing this. "Prepare the feast. My family will come down from the Kells at dawn."