Home

Elphaba had had enough of Dorothy. The farm girl from another world had killed her sister, and now she had come to kill her too.

But she did want to go home…and Elphaba felt sympathy for her. The so-called Witch had never really had a home, not since she was declared Wicked. Perhaps they could help one another…

Elphaba walked up to Dorothy, carrying a bucket of water with her.

"Listen," she whispered.

"Throw this on me—the water, not the bucket—and I'll find a way to send you home…"

Dorothy sniffed.

"You'll really send me back?"

"No. I'll be dead."

Dorothy didn't have time to be horrified, she was so hopeful.

"Then how…"

Elphaba thought. The Wizard certainly wouldn't take her; nor would Morrible. Perhaps…

"Ask Glinda. She might know…"