"You enjoyed that way too much," said DJ when she woke up again.
Scarecrow put her down. "You mean pushing you? Yeah, I probably did."
"Ass," she muttered, gaining her bearings. The poppy field was well behind them, and she could now make out the gates of Emerald City from the rest of the wall. She shook her head, slightly amazed. She had been so busy looking at the skyscrapers; she hadn't even noticed the wall surrounding the city before. She turned to Tin Man, relieving him of the still sleeping Toto, which only seemed fair since he was also still carrying Lion, as well as his giant ax. "How are you doing that?" she asked.
"Doing what?"
"Carrying him. It took everything Scarecrow and I had just to roll him over."
"Well," he said, scratching his head with the blunt end of his ax. "Prosthetic arms do tend to be a bit stronger than normal."
"Apparently," she said. "Mental note: get prosthetic arms."
"You do realize you'd have to lose your own first?" Scarecrow reminded her.
"And scratch that." She turned her attention back to the city. "That is one huge ass wall." Seriously, how had she missed that before?
"I sort of remember visiting here… before I became a prosthetic man," said Tin Man, his eyes drooping a bit. "I don't remember that wall though."
"It was only built twelve years ago," said Scarecrow. "There wasn't a wall when I lived here, but then the wicked witches came into power and up it went."
"They thought a wall would keep out witches? Don't the witches just, you know, fly over it?"
"Well, yeah. But the wall's not really for the witches." Scarecrow scratched his head through his hat. "It's hard to explain."
"I told you politics are scary," said Lion. He apologized as DJ started a bit. She hadn't noticed him wake up. "People see power. They want power. So they act like those with it." He hung his head a little. "People got mean in a hurry when the witches rose up. Who do the good people have to look up to now? We've got a great and powerful wizard, but he rarely sees anyone. We've got Glinda, but, well… you've meet Glinda."
DJ nodded, remembering. "The wall went up to keep everyone else out," finished Lion.
"That's really quite depressing," said DJ.
It was quiet for a moment, until Toto chose an opportune moment to wake up, startled, bound out of his mistress's arms and try to pick a fight with Lion's foot, which, admittedly, he probably would have won if DJ hadn't stopped him. Conversation resumed and by the time they had reached the gates, the entire group was laughing about something to do with killer bunnies and their pet pirates.
Scarecrow, always using his long legs to make the rest of his team look lazy, was the first to the gate. He tried knocking, but apparently didn't think much of the soft sound he was getting with his straw knuckles, so he stole Tin Man's ax and started hammering on the door with the blunt end of it. "Oy! Open up. Team Badass is trying to make a dramatic entrance here."
A peephole opened far above them and a man stuck his head through. "If you're selling magazines, we don't want any." He shut the hole again.
"Hey!" said Scarecrow. He raised his arm to start beating the door with the ax again, but Tin Man grabbed it from him.
"As well honed as your public relation skills are," he said, "maybe you should let me try this time." Tin Man proceeded to start pounding on the door with the sharp end of the ax. Once a sizeable crack had appeared, the man stuck his head out the peephole again.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Breaking down your door," replied Tin Man.
"No shit!" called the man. "I can see that. Why are you breaking down my door?"
"Well, quite obviously because we need to get in," said the other, still pounding away.
Scarecrow leaned over to the other two. "He was right," he whispered, a hint of awe creeping into his voice. "The man is a public relations god."
The guard was still trying to gain the upper hand in the situation; despite the fact he was being beaten so badly that he was making the French look good. "Will you stop that?"
"No."
"Just who do you think you are?"
Tin Man rested his ax for a moment. "Well, since you were kind enough to ask, I'm Tin Man, that's Lion, that's Scarecrow, the dog is Toto, and this young lady is DJ Gale."
The guard's cheeks had been getting puffier passing moment, but when he heard DJ's name, they popped, making a rather disturbing whoosh sound as they did so. "DJ Gale? The DJ Gale? The girl who killed the witch?"
"That's what they keep telling me," said DJ, sighing. She wished people would drop the whole killing thing. It's not like she had actually contributed to the process at any time.
The guard started smiling, showing his teeth, and the group responded to this display with wishes that he go back to yelling at them. "Well, why didn't you say so?" he beamed, even as they backed away slightly. "That's a horse of a different color. Wait one second and I'll get these doors open."
"Thanks," said Tin Man as the man disappeared.
"A horse of a different color?" asked DJ.
"It means 'that changes things'," explained Lion.
"Like in the song," added Tin Man.
"What song?"
"A Horse of a Different Color, of course. I forget who sings it, but everyone knows it."
"I don't" said DJ. "Sing it for me."
"What? I couldn't."
"Oh, come on, Tin Man. You make me explain my cultural references all the time. The least you could do is sing a few bars in return."
"Well, alright. But just remember that this was supposed to be sung by a girl, so don't judge me." Then he started singing, breaking into a male falsetto which was both prettier and more unnerving than any other singer DJ had heard before. "I cried when I lost you as my lover, I thought there would never be another, but when you admitted you were my brother, well that's a horse of a different color."
DJ laughed. "Okay, that's pretty awesome."
The doors opened at that moment, ruining all chances of hearing an encore, but revealing something even better.
"Holy… green," said DJ. There was really very little left to say. She had assumed that the green skyscrapers and equally green wall had been some sort of publicity stunt to showcase the city's name. They weren't. Everything was green. Half a million shades of the color assaulted her from every angle. It was like St. Patrick's Day, except without beer and loud, out-of-tune drinking songs, and therefore worthless. The buildings were green, the roads were green, the clothing was green, even a couple of the people were green.
DJ took a quick look down at her socks just to make sure other colors did, in fact, exist. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to aforementioned people. They were as diverse as the city's color code was not. She saw humans (or people that looked remarkably like humans at the very least), munchkins, animals on their hind legs like Lion, people made out of metal like Tin Man, and one very strange girl who looked like she had been made out of rags sown together. And that was just what she saw in the first few seconds. It was at that point where she found herself rather surprised to find that the attention of the entire crowd had been turned on the newcomers. "Why are they looking at us?" she whispered to Scarecrow.
"Correction," he said, not bothering to whisper in return. "They're looking at you."
"Fine," the girl snapped back. "Why are they looking at me?"
"Probably because you killed a witch," said Lion, who was half-hiding behind Tin Man in what the others could only conclude was some form of stage fright.
"But I… It was an accid-… How do they even know about that?" DJ was shouting at this point. She had every eye in the crowd on her already. It wasn't like she could draw more attention to herself.
Scarecrow shrugged. "Hey, chill. You know how rumors go. They probably don't even know what really happened. Ten to one says you'll overhear a story about you beating the Wicked Witch of the East to death with an oversized lollypop."
"All things considered, don't you think you should stop making bets?" asked Tin Man.
"Ouch. That was cold man."
Tin Man pointed to himself. "Heartless, remember?"
"Please stop fighting," pleaded Lion from behind Tin Man's back.
"Seconded," said DJ. She looked out at the crowd again. "Might as well get on with it." She stepped up to a man she was pretty sure was a munchkin. They seemed to be a pretty decent sort of people, even if this one was wearing terribly ugly glasses. "Umm… do you know where we can find the wizard?"
That was all the urging the crowd needed to swoop in. Within three seconds, the companions found themselves beset on all sides by screaming fans. There were requests for autographs, promises of free stuff, and some talk of a book deal. DJ distinctly heard at least two different boys propose to her. And, of course, everyone was more than willing to give directions to the wizard, even if they didn't know what the correct directions were.
Luckily, DJ had made a good guess, and the original munchkin man she had stepped up to managed to half-calm-down/ half-beat-the-rest-of-the-crowd into submission so he could actually be helpful. With a sweeping bow, he introduced himself as Harrison De Berg, a name which everyone promptly forgot, and henceforth would only be remembered as "that munchkin with the ugly glasses." DJ and her friends found themselves at the front of a rather odd procession, which began with the munchkin with the ugly glasses and the four people and a dog who were actually following him, and then consisted of most of the population of the Emerald City following behind them at what was almost a respectful distance.
Scarecrow, it seemed, had also made a good guess. DJ overheard at least six different, and all amazingly fallacious, versions of how she had killed the wicked witch. Despite her embarrassment on hearing some of them, she had to admit she was rather fond of the version where she apparently lassoed and hogtied the witch from the back of a giant wolf and then burned her at the stake (12 minutes per pound). As far as her companions were concerned, there was a rather large and nasty debate raging as to whom they actually were. Theories ranged from bodyguards to spirit guides to violent cannibals who were just playing along until they were given the opportunity to sink their teeth into some hero-flesh.
DJ decided it was high time to tune out what the crowd was saying.
After a very long and uneventful parade through the Emerald City, the munchkin with the ugly glasses announced they were nearing the center of the city, and hence the palace of the Wizard of Oz. "Bout damn time," DJ mutter to no one in particular. "How big is this city? We've been walking for over five hours."
"We've actually made pretty good time," said Scarecrow, invading DJ's personal space so he could consult her watch. "It's a huge city. Something like, three times bigger than the next biggest city in Oz."
"Four," corrected their ugly-glasses-clad tour guide.
Scarecrow response was to wave a vague gesture that managed to embody "he is correct," "it doesn't really matter that much," and "over the course of the last few hours, I've secretly grown to loath this munchkin and everything he stands for" all at once. Then he pointed forward. "There it is."
DJ idly wondered how he was able to tell. It looked like every other giant green palace they had passed over the last few hours: a tasteful, pretty commentary on the architect's complete lack of imagination. Still, the crowd following them trickled to a halt as they approached the main door, as did the munchkin with the ugly glasses, signaling the end of the line. "So who wants to handle public relations this time?" DJ asked.
Property damage proved to be unnecessary, however, as the door choose that moment to be thrown open by a gangly redhead in a green uniform that utterly failed to inspire either fear or respect. He gave them a curt salute. "The wizard will see you now."
Elphaba regarded the man across from her with the kind of cold distain that would normally result in her breaking his nose. Business however (even evil business), required a certain restraint, and the hope that maybe tomorrow she could break his nose. The man, known only as "Spike," was ten pounds overweight, greasy, smelled of stale cheddar popcorn, and had an annoying tendency to call her "babe," which wouldn't have been too bothersome if he didn't couple it by telling his friends he found her green skin "kink-tacular." His one redeeming quality was his position as the leader of the best gang of mercenaries in Oz. And the time had come to renew their contract.
"So, babe, not a thing to worry about. You just sign your cute little name right here and we'll be good to go." Spike slid a sheet of paper over to her.
"I'll sign it later," she said, after regarding it for a moment. She handed it to a winged monkey sitting behind her. "I'd like to have my lawyer look over it and make an adjustment or two first."
"The monkey's your lawyer?"
"Considering who wrote it, I don't really think that's going to be an issue, although he might have a few hang-ups on the grammatically errors."
"What can I say, babe," Spike leaned back in his chair. Violence is more fun than writing."
"I'm sure you see it that way." The wicked witch wondered if he was ignoring her insults or just too stupid to catch them. She was leaning towards that latter.
"So," continued Spike, "how do you want the girl done up?" Real quick and to the point, or do ya want us to have a little fun first?
"Never you mind," replied Elphaba. "You're just plan B in all of this."
"Cruel," he said with a grin. "And plan A?"
"Will be set into motion in about an hour," said Elphaba, making a small gesture with her hand under the table, causing Spike to lean too far back in his chair and drop to the floor in a rather nasty, though nonlethal, way. "Just wait and see."