Author's Note: First, I'd like to thank you guys for your warm words about my car accident. You guys are so sweet; thank God (or Allah or Buddha or Vishnu) we still have sweet people on this earth. I'm still stressed out because everything is piling up. I had a meltdown today at my chiropractor's office because the accumulation of emotions was just overwhelming. I knew the next little thing would set me off. So when they left me too long on the electrical stimulation machine (10 minutes too long) and no one came when I called for help, I burst into tears. The staff must think I'm nuts. I just needed a good cry!

Looks like updates will be once a week until I'm able to adjust. Then, maybe it'll increase to twice a week. I hope this story hasn't been forgotten =( I noticed I didn't do a chapter summary previous chapter. One will be provided now. Reviews would be lovely! Thank you!

Where we left off: At the meeting with the legislators, the Emperor instated an Oz-wide search for the missing women in order to resolve the current crisis of reversing spells and the mystery of the Ruby slippers, which Glinda has finally revealed a bit of information of. Elphaba, her legs still injured, seeks to find the shoes without anyone's help.

Chapter Ten

"Try and get some sleep. If there's a lead in the case, you'll be the first I call."

Someone was talking, but Isaac couldn't understand him. Every word said to him was incomprehensible, just white noise, there but distorted. He pulled the phone away from his ear and studied every piece of furniture in Elena's room. Her white dresser, her toy chest, the row of stuffed animals on the shelf, the Barbie house he had built only a few months before. He wanted to know if he could feel her presence.

Since their disappearance, he had held onto hope by the mere fact that he could feel Janice's body next to him in bed even though no one was there. A couple of nights ago, that feeling of her spirit disappeared without warning. Why, he didn't know.

"Isaac?"

He raised the phone to his ear. "Yeah, I heard. Thanks, Captain."

There was an apprehensive sigh on the other line. "Hey, kid, don't wear yourself out. They'll turn up."

"Alive?"

There wasn't an answer.

I'm forgetting what her voice sounds like. I don't remember how she whispers my name. I'm forgetting my own daughter's face—I see kids at the playground, at school, and I think maybe she looked kind of like her or another one. I miss my wife. I miss my little girl.

The vision vanished. The headaches were becoming less. Perhaps she was used to the hurt and the burn. The images she saw, however, were as painful as ever.

This was a castle she had abandoned long ago. No one had touched it since her alleged death. The rooms were cold and dark, wet from rain water leaking through the cracks in the walls and roof. Tables, chairs, books that were left behind had collected dust. The bedroom she had slept in still had her things in it—books she had read and written, spells and outlines scratched on parchment and a closet of her old clothing, mostly black of course. She was surprised they still fit her.

The cracked mirror in the corner revealed her true identity. She fastened the cape around her shoulders and glanced at her reflection. The tall, black hat veiled her eyes; the gorgeous dress, a gift from an old friend she still couldn't name, and the cape draped over her body still couldn't disguise the color of her skin, which was now completely green.

"You realize why you can't feel me anymore, Fiyero?" she said to no one in particular. She rubbed her forehead, the vision of her life in the other world still fresh in her mind. "Janice is dead. I'm back."

"Elphie?" Mai'galen slowly opened the door and paused. She had already figured out who Elphie really was. It didn't change anything. She still trusted her whether she was the Wicked Witch of the West or not.

"You're not going out to torture Monkeys, are you?" she asked.

"Mai'galen, that was never true," said Elphaba. "Look, I'd love to lecture you about my life story, but I have business to tend to."

"Aren't we in a temper?"

Elphaba glared at her icily. It was true her disposition was changing, but she had a lot of reason to be angry. "If you'll excuse me, I'm quite busy."

"Right, right. You have to make your big entrance." She avoided a nasty look from the green Witch. Mai'galen was sort of in a bitter mood herself. She didn't like the idea of staying here while Elphaba searched for the ruby slippers. "How did you get dressed, by the way?"

"I managed," said Elphaba, pulling her cape aside and revealing the broom she was using as a cane. She staggered to her closet and threw her hat off. "This costume is too overdramatic. I need something simpler."

"Well, you better hurry. You've spent nearly three hours getting dressed."

The Wicked Witch stared at the old woman. She rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide that tiny smile at the side of her mouth. "Great, the little blond rubbed off on me."

xoxoxo

They might have missed the sunset at Vinkus, but the Emperor and the Empress did stay a bit longer at the Tiggular palace to watch the stars rearrange themselves in the violet sky. It had been a while since Glinda was able to savor the warmth of her husband's embrace. And they were small things that made the moment magical. His sturdy arms wrapped around her body, the back of her head rested upon his chest. The little game they played, tracing messages on each other's skin, messages only the other would be able to discern. She knew his fingertips and he knew hers.

"This is nice," she said watching the twinkling lights dance. She caressed his hand lightly. There was a tiny tattoo just below his wrist of crossed vines, something he had acquired during the Animals' struggle.

She felt his lips on top of her head. "It could be nice every night… if you slept in our bed for once," he said softly, lightly. She always knew he missed her, but never realized just how much her presence meant to him.

"Go away," he said suddenly. Glinda raised an eyebrow. His eyes were focused on the moon. She peeked behind Liamn and saw one of the escorts at the doorway.

"Your Highness—"

"I said, go away," the Emperor repeated.

"But, Your Highness, the castle has been raided," said the escort quickly.

"This castle is being raided?" asked Glinda puzzled. If the castle was under attack, she was sure she and Liamn would know about it. The balcony was overlooking the front courtyard and they could see for miles.

"No," the escort said unsteadily. "Your palace in Oz was raided. Everything is torn up and the staff was either tied up or locked in a room and Lord Timolt just—"

The Emperor didn't let him finish. He rushed passed the escort with his wife following close behind. Who would do such a thing? Glinda was sure they didn't have any dangerous enemies, not ones who would dare break into their home anyway. The only people who would dare do something so bold and disrespectful were ones with enough courage and audacity to face the Emperor personally. But, who would?

"Did they take anything?" the Emperor asked the Captain of the Guard, who was now approaching him.

"If they even touched my diamond-encrusted silk stole, I'll have their head," said the Empress warningly.

"Don't worry, Your Highness," the Captain said. "None of your charms were broken. They're strong, they couldn't even make a dent."

"Or perhaps what they were looking for wasn't in the castle," said the Emperor.

A young woman screamed from above. They all looked at each other and headed for the stairs, the Captain leading the way. Glinda could feel her heart rising to her throat, pins and needles teasing her skin with their tips. As they were rushing down the hallway, Glinda felt Liamn's hand searching for hers. Their fingers intertwined and he squeezed.

"Did you hear that scream?" Rowena appeared from around the corner. With an arm full of skirt, she tried to trail not too far behind.

"I think it came from the master bedroom," whispered the Captain to the Emperor. Glinda bit her bottom lip. She could see the wooden doors just up ahead, slightly ajar.

Liamn suddenly tugged her arm. He pulled her against him, his lips near her ear. For a moment, it felt as if it was just the two of them in the hallway. "Stay here. I don't think you'll like what you see." If it were any other instance, she would have insisted in going inside. And it wasn't that she was afraid. It was because that simple request was from the man she loved most which had kept her from entering.

"What's going on?" asked Rowena finally catching up. When Glinda didn't answer, she took a few paces forward and pushed her way in between the guards.

"Ro', don't go in there!" hissed Glinda. She reached an arm out to the Governess and grabbed a handful of her skirt. Rowena threw her an irritable look and yanked her dress back, forcing Glinda inside with her. The guards looked at the women a bit taken aback. Resigned, she walked quietly to her husband, eyes on the floor. Glinda wasn't sure why she hadn't looked up when she stepped inside. Perhaps she didn't want to see what her husband warned her about. He was always right about these things.

"Sweet OZ," Rowena whispered. "I don't believe it."

The Emperor turned his head. He hadn't realized the women had entered. "Glinda, please."

Once she saw it, she couldn't turn away. Slowly, she walked ahead. Her face turned pale. The air thinned and she felt as if she needed to struggle to breathe. Fiyero's parents… it couldn't be so.

The scene was both peaceful and horrifying. Glinda could see why the guards were frozen to the floor, a sort of stunned expression on their face. The King and Queen lay on their beds, hands folded over their stomach. It was as if they were ready to enjoy a long, undisturbed slumber for the remainder of their lives. If it weren't for the blood soaking in the sheets, Glinda would have guessed their deaths were natural, not murder.

"W-well?" the Empress asked croakily. "Why are we all just standing here then? The murderer could be leagues away."

The Emperor shook his head. His eyes were closed. "The murderer is still in this castle."

"Wait one tick-tock," said Rowena, a despicable grin crawling on her lips. "Does this mean I'm Queen of Vinkus, Liamn?"

A soft cackle was heard within the walls then the lamps went out. A brush of wind swept past the hem of her Glinda's dress. It was like a ghost flying by. She felt her husband grab her hand and pull her into the hallway. It was pitch black. She could hear the Captain of the Guard giving his men orders she couldn't really comprehend. The only thing she could hear was their footsteps.

"Liamn—"

"This way." He was leading her through the darkness, moving left and right. She braced herself. She was sure they'd bump into something. Her palm relied on the walls for guidance. Silently she murmured a soft charm. The star on her wand illuminated a bright white.

"Thank you, dear," said Liamn, as he swung her around the corner and into the stairwell.

"I'm surprised you didn't run us into a wall," she said. It was difficult running down a flight of stairs with heels, but luckily her husband had his arm wrapped around her waist.

"Trying to free Animals from camps and cages stacked in the middle of nowhere, you learn how to maneuver your way through the dark," he said. They reached the throne room, where the cackling, high-pitched and familiar, became clearer and louder. A black figure flew above their heads.

"Don't be afraid," he said, trying to shield her with his robe. She wasn't afraid of the Witch, but of what the guards would do when they captured her.

"Where is she?" Glinda asked aloud. They stood at the center of the room.

She looked around, but her light only shone so far. She tried to look for a pair of eyes in the dark, a crooked hat. Where ever she directed her wand, she came up empty. All she saw were empty thrones, the double doors closed, long tables at the both sides of the room. There was a pounding in the walls. She couldn't tell whether it was the guards stomping their feet or one of Elphaba's scare tactics.

The Emperor's eyes explored the room, the ceiling. Glinda scanned the floors. There was an extra shadow circling them.

"No more games, Elphaba," commanded Liamn with a calm yet threatening voice. "Show yourself. If you want something, you're going to have to go through me. And I'll be far more generous if you do." The shadow Glinda was eyeing disappeared. She looked up at Liamn. He was waiting for a response.

"Elphaba?" a voice echoed. "You don't know me, Your Highness. You have no right to call me by that name."

"Even after I've welcomed you into my home?" he inquired, looking all around. "I must say, it isn't polite to raid the house of the people who restored you to health."

"Restored me to health?" her voice boomed. The lights slowly came up. The fire from the lamps was still dim enough for the shadows to witness the show. Across the room, the Wicked Witch of the West reincarnated hovered on her broom. Her skin was the emerald color Glinda always knew her for. She wasn't sporting her usual black hat and black robes. Instead, a blue frock took its place.

"Elphie—" started Glinda, but Elphaba interrupted her.

"Why?" she demanded. "Why did you do this to me?"

"Do what?" asked Liamn.

"Nothing, I—" Glinda sighed. "I don't know what she's talking about."

"The visions," snarled Elphaba. "That potion you slipped into my drink was from the Grimmerie, wasn't it? You never could read that thing. If you hadn't tampered with my memories, I wouldn't be in this position."

"You tricked me!" said Glinda heatedly. "You made me think you were dead. It was the most dreadful thing you could do to your best friend!"

"Best friend?" The Emperor felt as if he was treading on fragile territory. He couldn't decide whether this was his fight or hers.

"You couldn't remember anything," continued Glinda. "I couldn't let you get away without an explanation. You owed me that much. I had to make you remember somehow!"

"Thank you, Your Highness!" Elphaba bellowed, her laughter ringing. "Oz will be delighted when they hear their shining Empress brought about the return of the Wicked Witch of the West!"

A light of indigo from Liamn's direction fired into the air. It zoomed past Elphaba, who pulled her broom upward to the ceiling. "What is it you want?" demanded the Emperor.

"She wants the Grimmerie," said Glinda softly. She fixed her eyes on his. He read them carefully. He knew her thoughts. She had taken the Grimmerie with her.

"Listen carefully," he said. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Take the book and head for the tower."

"What about Elph—"

"I'll take care of her."

"Liamn, she's not going to be fooled by your charm. She doesn't negotiate. I know how she—" The floor rumbled. A strike of what could have been lightning missed Glinda by an inch. She leapt into her husband's arms, shaken.

"She tore up our home and killed the King and Queen. I don't plan on negotiating," he said. "Now, please. Go."

He lifted his arm and another flare of indigo flew into the air. He missed. As soon as he heard his wife's footsteps fade away, he shot two or three flares up at a time. They spun like fireballs. They were aimless shots, but he was able to slow her down. She retaliated with similar blasts, comet-like and much faster than his. She was soaring into the ceiling, diving occasionally to throw a hit. He ducked and waved an arm in reflex, diverting the shots.

"Not much in combat, I see," taunted Elphaba, looping around the room.

"This isn't a fair fight," he said placing his arm in front of him. His hand glowed indigo and continued to grow. "You can fly. So let's make it a fair fight, shall we?" He threw his arm out, a pitiful toss it would seem as it missed her by at least three feet. The indigo rather than dissipating stopped in front of her and expanded. She had no time to stop and she collided with indigo light. Her broom smashed into pieces. She was thrown onto the floor, panting.

It was like glass grating across skin. His power was strong. It didn't burn as hot as hers, but the impact was profound. It pushed her off her broomstick before shattering it. Her legs hit the ground first. She couldn't move them anymore without screaming in pain.

"Stand up," said the Emperor. He was approaching her. She pressed her palms against the floor. Both brittle and stiff wood from the broom scraped her. "Get up. Come on, stand."

"I can't," grumbled Elphaba. She was ashamed and angry. She was ill-prepared and she didn't have a plan B. There wasn't time for it. Actions were of impulse.

"You're the Wicked Witch of the West," he said. He towered over her. She tried to look up at him. She wasn't going to make it seem like she was bowing at his feet.

"You're all about fair fights," she growled. "This isn't fair."

"You killed the Tiggulars."

"I did not." She was scooting back, crawling with her elbows, trying to get away from the Emperor. She didn't want him to kick her as well.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I want those shoes."

"You're still on about that? Shouldn't you be looking for your so-called missing daughter?"

Her blood boiled. Fingers aslant, she pointed at him and muttered a spell. He deflected it easily. Her mind was clouded; there was too much anger and too much pressure. She couldn't concentrate. She tried to inch away but he was always a few steps behind her. Her fingernails scratched the surface as she dragged her body to the doorway.

"I don't care who you are," he said calm and steady. "But, I can't let you get away with murder."

"I did not murder anyone," she said. She felt hot tears on her cheeks. It seemed no matter what she did or who she was, she could never escape the feeling of helplessness.

"It seemed you wanted to murder me."

"You got away, didn't you?"

He raised his arms. This time Elphaba couldn't fight him. She didn't have the strength. She would admit defeat and construct her next move while she was imprisoned in his dungeons. Wiping her tears away, she looked him straight in the eye, not focusing on the massive violet flame materializing beside him. He gestured to Elphaba and the flame began to move.

A streak of white split the flame in half. It engulfed the blue and rose into the air, where it scattered into little stars, raining on the top of their heads. Liamn couldn't believe something overcame a spell as powerful as his.

"Glinda," he said.

"Don't hurt her, Liamn." The Empress walked in front of the Wicked Witch, straight faced and stoic. It was the best protection Elphaba could ask for. The Emperor wouldn't dare hurt his wife.

"You make a choice," said Liamn, frowning.

"No," said the Empress impassively. "I've made my choice."

Author's Note: Chapters are getting slightly longer, but I hope that's a good thing. I would love to hear your thoughts about the chapter and your critiques, if you have any. They'll especially help me keep updates regular =) Thank you so much, guys!