Elphaba flattened herself to the broom. She whizzed low, dodging branches as she doubled back, but no one followed. She took a second loop just to verify. No one. Not even the song of birds broke the silence.
She landed and tied her broom to her pack. The extra width made her clumsy, but she wouldn't leave it unprotected again. It had never flown the same despite its repair. One wild ride on summoned wind made plenty for anyone's lifetime. Thank Oz she'd drilled her spells. Her bones still ached from that slam, but nothing had broken.
Nothing physical at least. His face swam to mind, above that hated uniform, eyes wide as they locked with hers.
"Shelter," she murmured to focus. Though what shelter would a half-tiktok Boq need? Enough to stay dry, she supposed, and for both their sakes well-hidden. She scouted for natural defenses as she collected tree limbs. What would she give for a nice cave?
There. A tight copse of elms crisscrossed branches, and she stepped into the dappled shadow to measure its width. Perfect. She plopped her pack in the shade.
"Dakhin negdekh."
The loose branches knit with the trees. At least she'd learned a useful spell from the whole disaster. She hadn't tried anything beyond wood yet, but either way, it made her lean-to handiwork much more efficient.
She reached for a new branch, and the weight toppled the limb off, leaving a fresh wound on the elm. Of course. She repeated the spell and propped it with another.
Why think about him at all? He'd moved on. She'd shoved Glinda in his arms, and he'd obliged. She ought to focus on Boq and her penance. And this damn shelter. The next branch crashed in place with too much force, and the limbs collapsed in a pile.
She growled and started again. This is what happened when she let herself think about it. She ruined her plans. Like that idiotically rash visit. She wanted to believe it was, as she'd implied, a mission to rescue Boq. It ought to have been. But try as she might to shut up that part of her brain, it kept chirping visions of him lying there, blood soaking the ground. His eyes closed…fading…so still…
The branches tumbled from the trees with a loud crack.
"Damn it!"
She shook her head and snatched the first branch again.
Don't think of him. But her traitorous mind circled to Glinda, dosing him against his will. What business was it of Elphaba's? With a bottle that looked exactly like her mother's. Who had never been to the Emerald City. Who had no cause to own one of those bottles. Who had never met the Wizard or any of his doctors or even fallen sick until Elphaba's green-ness had poisoned her and ruined everyone's lives.
The branches welded together at the force of her spell, and its weight snapped the trunk.
Ugh! She shoved them down with a guttural scream, and just for good measure, she kicked them.
She sank down and clutched her knees. One ragged breath at a time, she shoved back the thoughts. It didn't matter now. Engaged. Soon they'd be married. And her mother was dead, all her secrets in the grave with her. But Boq was alive, and she owed it to him to undo the monstrosity Nessa had inflicted on him.
She abandoned the shelter to retrieve the Grimmerie. It was foolish to read it so exposed like this. Foolish and unnecessary, but she slammed the cover back anyway. The pages arched up, eager to be read. The text swirled into focus. These secrets wanted to be hers. They didn't evade; they begged to be known.
She scanned the pages for far longer than she ought, soothing herself with the progress. She could do this. She would do this. She had to.
She stood and stretched out her neck. The thick tome lay seductively open still, but twilight beckoned. Better to take an extra circuit to scout, just in case. Too many close calls lately.
The evening fell in streaks of orange that gleamed as she rose, the air sharpening with the chill. Her eyes fell to the YBR, so bright against the deepening shade.
She frowned. A skirmish of some kind. She drew toward it with idiotic curiosity. He couldn't be there now. Not with how she'd left him, but he'd always been foolish. Perhaps he'd dragged himself out anyway, his face pale and gray above a swath of bandages, daring the enemy to finish him off.
She found herself drifting and gave in to the urge.
The green and gold uniforms stood out like targets, locked into a formation that begged for a petulant fireball, but she restrained herself. The enemy wasn't half so clear. Who picked a fight with the Gale Force?
Besides her.
The boom of rifle shots scattered the rabble, but no blood spilled. These must be incompetent attackers. A volley of stones spilled at the soldiers in answer, and she rolled her eyes. Rocks against rifles? Unprepared at the least.
But then she saw the file flanking back. Ah, a diversion. What could they want? She flew right at the edge of the clouds, foolishly low, and scanned the Gale Force.
A handful of prisoners clustered with guards fell back toward the city walls. Too far for them, too close for the enemy. Could she really be so lucky? A straggler clomped too slow and heavy. A glint of metal, and she was sure.
Boq, delivered right to her doorstep. She'd praise the Unnamed God if she believed in him.
She dove down and cleared her path with a rain of fireballs too small to exhaust her. Screams, smoke and chaos. She swerved at the bark of a gun too close for comfort. The damn broom shuddered, and for a moment she feared it would tear itself apart.
That moment lost her the chase. Boq had disappeared into the frenzy.
"The Witch!"
As if the fireballs hadn't properly announced her? Idiots.
"Fall back!"
They occupied her with dodging their bullets. "Skristi vakha." The cart behind them exploded, and Elphaba rose up.
She couldn't find him. No, there! Knocked into a wheelbarrow by some fast-thinking soldier. She flattened herself to the broomstick and shot after them.
A bullet whizzed past her ear, but she only flattened herself tighter to the broom. She could make it.
But the head start was too great. They were through the doorway, the portcullis falling, and she had to swerve or risk being impaled.
"Damn it!" She landed and exploded in a shriek of frustration. The ground rattled. No, not like this. She fought for control. One deep breath after another.
The battle lingered, but half-heartedly. She spun back prepared to take prisoners of her own, when a hand caught her.
"Songbird, here."
She whirled on Mercus, and he leaned back.
"That's one impressive scary look, alright. Even without the...you know." He mimed a fireball.
She scowled at him. The sharp rapport of a rifle turned the ground beside them to a plume of dirt and rocks. Mercus caught her elbow and jerked her behind the overturned cart.
"Good," she grunted. "Maybe it'll spare me your ridiculous comeons."
"Hardly." He flashed her a grin. "Fireballs are hot, you know." A wink, and he tucked his head up to scan. He bobbed back. "Southeast, by the stone fence."
She flung a little fire in that direction, the air sizzling in its wake.
"So sexy." He grinned. "Lurline, love powerful women."
"You have some serious issues."
He laughed and flopped back. "You're telling me." He flashed a mirror, a dangerous signal in a firefight, and got an equally tiny response from ten yards away. "Come on. We'll fall back, make a plan to get Boq out of there."
"Go on. I'm going to get him now."
Mercus frowned. "How?"
She lifted a haughty eyebrow.
"Surely you're not planning to take on all these guards and a Oz-damn fortress with sheer gusto."
"You don't think I could?"
"I think you might, but damn, I don't want to risk those odds. You're the only real weapon against the Wizard that's any kind of powerful." He eyed her pack. "And I'm guessing you're carrying the book that would hand that right back to him."
She drew in a sharp breath through her nose. "You know about the Grimmerie?"
He leveled a look. Of course he did.
"Fine," she seethed, "I'll come up with a better plan. But not with you."
"Too overwhelmed with my magnetism?" A spurt of gunfire came, moving farther away. "Look, it doesn't make sense to work separately. I know we can't shoot fire, but we're an asset. You know we are."
His warm brown eyes were wide, too dark to match his friend's but just as alluringly genuine. She shook her head.
"Aren't you tired of doing it alone? We can do so much more together, really turn the tide on this."
She swayed toward him, caught in the dream, and shook herself. "I can't trust you," she sighed. "I can't be sure."
He frowned. "You can. Of course you can."
She blinked fast, fighting the urge to give in. "How did you know to come here?"
"Glinda."
"Not..." She swallowed hard, and Mercus bit his lip.
"No, he…" He shut his eyes and steeled himself. "He was shot."
"He seems quite capable of talking, all the same."
"You knew?" Mercus's eyebrows shot up. "But then-"
"If I join you, you could never tell him about me. Never. No one could." She was a fool for considering this. What did she expect him to say? It wouldn't convince her. But, for once, she wanted to be charmed by that silver tongue of his. "It's the only way."
"I can't do that." His shoulders tipped inward. "He saved my life. I can't hide you from him." He caught her hand, and she reflexively yanked it back, her fingers curling tight. "Please, you can trust him. You can trust me. I know what you think he did, but it wasn't him. It was Sarima. You have to know that by now."
"He set the wheel. Its ride is his doing."
"He didn't write that damn letter." Mercus leaned toward her with an entreating expression, and she jerked into his space.
"And if not?" she hissed. "He still went to her, gave her path and purpose, knowing who she was. Are his hands clean because he didn't pull the trigger?"
"El, please. We need you. This is bigger than that, isn't it?"
She set her jaw. "Then make me my promises, and mean them."
Misery twisted his handsome features, so foreign on a face that smiled even in a firefight. His fingers drifted to a large, ugly scratch up his arm. "Look, he risked his life for me. Literally took the bullet. I swear, you can trust him."
The weight of her pack felt heavy on her shoulders, or perhaps that was the weight of her burdens. She mounted her broom. "Trust isn't my strong suit."
"Songbird, don't go."
She huffed a laugh. "Funny, that name. I supposed birds aren't too trusting either, are they?"
She pushed up into the sky, the last of the skirmish fading as she rose - full of resolve. But that empty ache in her chest no less despite it.
She fought back the sudden loneliness. This wasn't the time. She could wallow back with her branches when she had Boq in tow. But a scan of the palace found him out of sight. She'd missed her chance.
Ugh, more proof of the luxuries she couldn't afford. She'd stood there dithering with Mercus until she'd lost her best chance of rescuing Boq. Oz-damn it! She wished that she did believe in some deity just so she could damn herself with some real authority. Fool! She was a stupid, sentimental fool.
How was she going to find Boq now?
Elphaba slammed her eyes shut and threw herself onto her broom. She flew as high as she could, the chill freezing her and the wind whistling through her ears. Before she knew it, she found herself outside Shiz, staring at the ramshackle brownstone with a faded red door.
She dismounted and stood there, silent. She hadn't meant to come here. She hadn't meant to come anywhere.
Mercus wasn't here, of course. She'd left him off by the palace, fighting the Wizard with stones and sticks. Why couldn't she just join them? She trailed up to the door as if drawn against her will. Her fingers trailed the peeling paint.
She closed her eyes. Memories of her first night here flooded her with warmth and longing. Those arms wrapped around her, those lips so soft and careful, and all through a thrumming strum of belonging.
But it was a lifetime ago. Too long. Too much. The empty house stared back at her. They were gone.
OZOZOZOZOZOZOZOZ
She flicked through the Grimmerie with lazy strokes. A week now, and still nothing. Why find the man if she didn't have the spell? It eluded her no matter how she poured through the words. But why find the spell if she didn't have the man? And no lead or hope of one.
A paradox. The chicken and the egg for quitters.
She flopped back against the jagged trunk of her ruined elm. Stupid to come back here. The trees had died with all their wounds, the bark already dry and brittle. They couldn't provide the shelter she'd sought.
She had to see Glinda. That was Elphaba's only lead, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it.
She stood up and dusted herself off. Time for her weekly date with Badger. She'd had other sources, but none so reliable. A laugh bubbled up. This was the constant of her life?
Swallowing her anxiety, she set the Grimmerie within the split trunk. "Dakhin negdekh." The ruined bark crumbled together. She tapped the scarred surface. No sign of the hollow within, but easy enough to find again.
Mercus had been right. Carrying it with her had been unwise. Need desperate enough that she couldn't fly here demanded too urgent a response for flipping through the bulky tome. And this way, the Wizard couldn't collect them as a set.
But it made her stomach clench to leave it alone and unprotected.
She set a hand on the trunk. "Buru nti." Be my ears. If it heard voices or footsteps, she'd hear them and know.
The night air called to her. Badger gave up the better news the farther down in the pints he swam. She flew up to the clouds and over the familiar sight of the city. The empty windows stared unseeing, like a face. Gray in the moonlight. Like his face that day, pale and gray and heart-stoppingly still.
Her broom stuttered, and she swung left to pull into a smoother current.
No Boq, of course. As if his captors would take him out for a midnight stroll. Maybe wave a flag that read, "Rescuers look here."
She looped around. The empty courtyard held no enemies. The paths around secreted no friends.
Unnerved by the eerie energy, she flattened herself on the way to the tavern. Badger had a sweet spot between sober and drunk. Too late, and all she'd learn would be how much he hated his job. Scrubbing the Wizard's toilets hardly offered a nice view of the Great and Terrible's glamour.
She was going so fast, she almost flew straight into the back of a Gale Forcer, his uniform blending with the greenery. She swung hard right and up. The tree beside him rained leaves as she clipped it, and he swung around.
"What's with you?"
He shot a glance back at the other soldier. "Thought I saw something."
Her broom fought the abrupt redirection, but she shouldered it straight.
"You're so jumpy." The second man slapped his back. "Think the Witch is gonna sneak up behind you and tickle your balls?"
"Shut up."
He laughed rudely, but Elphaba missed his comeback. She flew back into the cloud cover, heart pounding. Her adrenaline spiked at the close call. Even her hands shook.
No, that was her broom. Damn it! It shuddered. She twisted, and it dipped. She swallowed hard as she fought to keep altitude. Maybe better on foot, then. She took a deep breath and dove down in the cover of the thick vegetation. The twigs tore at her hair and skin, but scratches she could manage much better than broken bones.
"So nothing to report?" The broad-shouldered man must be in charge. He scowled. "Just great."
"Yuriq thought he saw her spying on his-oomph!"
The first soldier tackled the second, and the third rolled his eyes. "You stooges can break the news to Cap. Doubt he'll be thrilled with your antics."
She edged toward the thicker trees, thankful for the diversion. They hadn't seen her.
"Aw, come on. We caught the little blathering Fox, didn't we?"
Elphaba swore under her breath. Damn Badger. So much for reliable.
"Sure that'll be a comfort to him," the commander sneered. "Bring it in. Something's better than nothing."
She sucked in a breath. Could she? With enough luck, they'd lead her right where they kept their prisoners. Where Boq must be. If she could manage to follow them without turning herself into a prisoner, of course. It could be a trap. She'd clearly been too predictable if they knew to search for her here. But the opportunity wouldn't come again.
Poor bound Badger plopped over the obnoxious one's shoulder, and they set off.
"Stupid," she hissed, but she climbed back on her broom. She set a hand on the shaft and gripped tight. "Come on, girl. You've got to pull it together." She couldn't walk there. No handy foliage to protect her on the YBR.
She pushed up into the cloud cover, ducking down only to check their progress. The humidity drenched her and made her teeth chatter, but she had no complaints as long as her broom held. Below, they bickered about beers and broads with never a glance up. She couldn't help but feel a little offended. This is who they sent to catch her? These morons?
Still, the portcullis with its forbidding tall, thick walls loomed. She'd lose them before she could make it up and over. Should she land now? Force them to take her? Three against one made terrible odds.
"Come on, Yuriq. I didn't mean to." The obnoxious soldier grumbled, shifting Badger around. "Give me a break. This thing is heavy."
The other soldier sniffed and kept walking.
"Lieutenant?"
The one in command lifted his eyebrow.
"Can we at least take the shortcut? The damn thing stinks!"
The lieutenant smacked his shoulder. "That's because it pissed itself."
"Ugh!" Obnoxious Soldier jerked poor Badger off him as the Lieutenant guffawed. "Not funny."
"Sure it was." Yuriq flashed a nasty grin. "Should've seen your face."
Obnoxious Soldier swung Badger at him, and Yuriq pushed him back.
"Alright, now, stop it," their lieutenant interrupted. "Come on, idiots, we'll take the shortcut, but stop swinging it around."
Yuriq shouldered the bound Animal, and the lazy soldiers turned right to a secluded garden entrance. She couldn't believe her luck.
She waited as long as she dared and rushed in behind. Barely, she caught the locked door before it shut. She let out a breath, her heart pounding. She waited for them to get just far enough ahead, though each second felt like years.
Narrow corridors and no aerial escape set her on edge. She stalked well behind them, wishing for some shadows. If they so much as glanced behind, she'd have to fight her way out.
But they kept up their chatter, their stances relaxed save for the one carrying Badger. The building held no others. Abandoned.
They turned a corner, and she flattened herself to peek around.
They were gone.
She whirled forward, jaw slack, but no one waited. No obvious exit, all the doors shut. She drew a long breath and listened hard, but no footsteps. No inane chatter. Nothing.
How?
She scanned with more urgency. The walls felt solid. No trapdoor. She checked doorknob after doorknob, all locked.
With a grunt of frustration, she looked up. Scrapes on the ceiling. She edged closer. A trail of dust on the floor. She reached out, and the painting before her scraped out with a whisper that had she not stood directly beside, she would have missed it.
Before she could peer inside, it started to shut again, and she shuffled inside.
Reckless. This was reckless. No idea where she was or how to get out, she contemplated backtracking. But for what? Another week in the woods? And even then, Badger lay before her, her one remaining resource. She edged forward through the secret hall.
For a hidden passage, it was remarkably clean and well-lit. Still, the eerie feeling itched her skin. Trapped. No, she was the hunter here. She pulled herself together and strode through the doorless corridor until at last she heard voices.
"An excellent consolation prize." That voice. "Don't worry, boys. She'll turn up."
A vindictive part of her wanted to burst in and prove him right, but she had been reckless enough already. She peeked through a crack in the door.
The Wizard. He patted the lieutenant's back and waved him through, and they paraded out presumably toward the prison. Her eyes narrowed in on the Wizard, though. Alone. Unprotected. She could save Boq when this was done.
She counted to a hundred to let help slip away, tapping the rhythm on her thigh. So close.
98...
99...
100.
She burst in, ready to fight, but the Wizard tipped a smile.
"Welcome."
She spun at him, a fireball ticking her fingers, and he merely laughed.
"Such a hothead." He crossed his ankle over his knee with a calm smile. "You're early."
"You're finished."
He tilted his head. "Oh? Though I suppose Glinda's health wouldn't matter much to you now, anyway, would it."
The threat drew a flare to her fire, but she hesitated.
"Honestly, I thought we'd have to ring those wedding bells to drag you up out of hiding. Our dear Madame will be quite relieved at the expediency." He stood and straightened his waistcoat. "Must be our little tiktok friend, then. Finally come to collect?"
The fire winked out. "Where is he? What have you done?"
"Why, I only want to help." His smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "But first things first. I need it back."
"Your integrity?" she sniped, and he boomed a laugh.
"Oh, my dear, I did always appreciate that wit." He shook his head. "We could have really been something, you know." He clapped his hands. "How's this. I'll give you another chance, after you give me our stolen property back of course. Heck, I'll even help you fix your friend. He's going to be a mess, if you manage to get that metal off."
"I'd never join you."
"Oh, now. See, if you hadn't had that attitude, maybe you'd be ringing those bells instead of your pretty friend."
She glared at him.
"Fine, have it your way." He tipped back to a small button, and a bell dinged brightly.
Her fingers flexed up, but as the door opened, she caught her breath. There he stood, the face she'd worked so hard to banish from her thoughts. Fiyero.
"Ah, thank you Captain. Please disarm our guest."
He stepped forward, still so pale and frowned. Her heart froze. As much as she'd told herself to expect this, the crushing pain still shocked her. "Yero," she sighed.
He blinked faster, a struggle in his eyes.
"Oh, were you hoping your former lover would save you?" Her eyes flicked back to the Wizard, and he grinned. "I was quite surprised when your old Headmistress told me his past, but then he's so eager to hunt you. Mustn't have ended well."
Elphaba snarled, "Shut up."
"He's very dedicated, you know. But I couldn't take that chance. You understand." He clucked his tongue. "He was a tough one. So cautious about what he puts in that body, so … rigorous. Do you think he does it to please her, or to punish you?"
She scowled at him, but her eyes fell on Fiyero, too quiet.
"All that vigilance." The Wizard shook his head with feigned weariness. "But our dear Lady of Goodness can be counted on. Medicine is quite good for the soul, isn't it? So, as the kindly man I am, I'll give you one more chance. I doubt he'd really want to kill you, even if it were his choice. You won't make him just for a little book, will you?"
Fiyero's tightly knit brows covered eyes awash in tragedy.
She pressed her lips tight. "I haven't got it anyway."