"So, what happens now?"
Elphaba stared at Fiyero expectantly. He stared back. Ugh, of course he had no plan. She swiped a hand over her face "We can't stand here and stare at each other all day."
His lips puckered. "I've said. We need to go back for the others."
She fought not to roll her eyes at him. "We can't go back."
"You don't understand."
"No, you don't." She drew a heavy breath. "My broom can't hold us. We barely made it here as it is. How in Oz would I get all three of us on this ridiculous thing, even without it fritzing out?"
He frowned. "It's broken?"
"Healed, technically." She traced the thin crack that remained like a scar. "But I've always been worthless at healing."
The memory landed in his face, and its horror replayed through her own mind. For a second, she was lost in the roar of air and the sharp sting of splinters. He shook his head. "Fine. Then we walk."
"Walk?" She did roll her eyes at that. "Yes, and I'm certain the Wizard would never beat us there." His narrowed eyes made her huff. "He'll be waiting for you. You know he will. It's only too predictable."
Fists clenched, he paced a few steps back. "Well, we have to do something!"
"Yes. You go back, beg forgiveness, and I fly off until I can happily murder the Wizard later."
He pressed his lips tight. "Something else." His eyes rounded with that pleading edge that, damn him, still completely melted her better sense. "We can't just leave Glinda."
Ah, yes. Glinda.
She hadn't expected it to hurt this much. She'd known about the pair for ages now. She didn't want him anyway. She didn't need his ridiculously handsome face swaying her into idiotic ideas, and if her old friends made each other happy, then all the better for them.
Bitterness seeped in, all the same. "I suppose I should offer my congratulations." He blinked at her, head tilted, and she pressed back a scornful smirk. "When is the wedding?"
He huffed out a heavy sigh. "These damned engagements. Playacting, all of it."
"Perhaps on your side." But even when Glinda had said the same, the lie in her eyes gave it away. The feelings there were definitely real.
"What is with women and marriage all the damned time?" He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Sarima is there, with Glinda. She's not safe. We have to go back."
"Sarima? The bitch that broke my broom?" She nearly set to flight right then, but she bit her lip. "Still. Must as I'd love to, we really can't if she's there. Not now. Not without a plan."
Why in Oz would Sarima be there? The reasons not to trust him kept stacking up and up, and yet, the longer he stood there with his stupid loveable face and his stupid vulnerable expression, the more she slipped into old habits.
She had to get out of here. She mounted her broom.
He rushed to grab hold. "Where are you going?"
"Away."
She pushed up, and he grunted as the broom dangled him onto his tiptoes. "You're just going to leave me here? In the middle of the forest?"
"You're a tracker, and a soldier now, too. You'll be fine."
"Fine?" He spat the word at her. "I haven't been fine since you left me the first time." He cleared his throat. "Why would I expect any different?" He flung himself off the broom. "Go, then."
She blinked hard. She ought to. She willed herself to. But she stayed.
He snorted. "Funny. The only woman I want is the only one not trying to marry me."
"Shows your terrible judgment."
He didn't laugh.
"Stop looking so wounded." She swung the broom to face him. "You're the one that hunted me for sport."
He had the gall to roll his eyes. "You know why I became Captain. Don't use me as an excuse."
"Now hold on a minute." She landed hard and dropped the broom to stab her finger into his chest. "I never asked for you."
"Well, you got me."
"I don't want you."
His chin tipped back at that as if the blow had been physical. "Sometimes I don't either. But it's done."
"Undo it."
"You don't think I've tried?" He flung out a hand, and she shrunk back. He swiped his hair. "It is how it is."
The longing slammed into her with a force she hadn't prepared for.
"I-I can't." She was an enemy of the state. Poison. She didn't have the luxury of love any more than running water.
He told the ground miserably, "I know."
It stabbed through her, that expression. She never should have kissed him that day ages ago. What a fool she had been. "I'm sorry." The words tumbled free before she could stop them, and he nodded at the ground. "I just…" There was nothing to say.
Remorse thundered through her. Each miserable day through each lonely night, how many times had she thought what it would have been to do it differently?
A neat trap. She couldn't take back the past, and she wouldn't drag him off to his death. The Wizard would relish the chance to destroy him if he knew it would hurt her. She didn't need that on her conscience.
Only...
Would sending him back to the palace really be safer? She couldn't be sure. Not after his harebrained escape. And if she couldn't be sure, why not? Her lips found his before she could talk herself out of it.
Foolish idiot. Hadn't she learned her lesson?
As his surprise melted, he pulled her tight against him. She had forgotten the full fire of him, ravaging a burning path of desire through her. They fell back against a tree. Oh, this was so stupid. But she could go back to distrusting him tomorrow. Right now, she couldn't stop kissing him if she tried.
"Stop," he panted. "Wait."
Her head fell back against the tree, the bark snagging her hair. "Never changes, huh."
"How do we know the Wizard is wrong?"
She blinked away her frown. "You mean, besides the subjugation of an entire species?"
"No, about me. Him controlling me." His fingers on her wrist made it so hard to concentrate.
"I think your idiotic escape is proof enough." She pulled him back for another kiss, and he shook his head.
"There's this fog..." She nipped at his neck, and he stuttered to a stop with a groan.
"Hormones?" Her lips traced toward his ear. "Weren't you just convincing me that I shouldn't leave you? Let's go back to that."
He stepped back. "Seriously. If there's a chance I could hurt you-"
"Oh, please." She hauled him back to her. "If the Wizard wants this, I can't imagine why." She dragged her fingers through his hair, and he sank into the kiss. "Probably just that medicine."
"Mm," he murmured against her neck, and her eyes fluttered closed. "What medicine?"
"That Glinda gave you."
Fiyero set her back with both hands on her arms. "What do you mean? Glinda hasn't given me anything."
He had a right to know. She told him as gently as she could manage with her pulse still thundering in her ears. "In your tea."
He fell back, stricken. "She can't have." Elphaba waited for him to realize the truth. No need to thump on the sting of betrayal. His eyes narrowed. "How would you know anyway?"
"Don't do that. I didn't do anything to you." She shook her head as if Glinda stood there. "I even told her you wouldn't appreciate it, but you know Glinda. Can't stand others suffering so much as a fashion crisis, let alone a gunshot."
"Told her? You've seen her?" He paced again. "No. She'd have told me if you came."
She pushed off the tree. "I asked her not to."
"But…" He swiped a hand through his hair. "So you two have been conspiring, behind my back?"
"It's not like that."
He crossed his arms. "Then what is it like?"
Elphaba crossed her arms back. "It is like someone asked his crazy fiance to kidnap me, then became the leader of the soldiers hunting me, and I didn't trust what else he might do to 'protect' me."
He shrunk back. "Fair."
She nodded.
The truce did little to settle his frown. "I can't believe she didn't tell me." He cast his eyes to far away memories only he could see. "Are you certain? About the tea?" She glanced down. He looked so stricken. He nodded. "Right, well, all the more reason."
He slipped his belt off, and Elphaba raised an eyebrow. "Not the reaction I expected."
He ignored her jibe and pressed the leather in her hand. "Here. Tie me down. That way if he does have some sort of hold on me, I won't be able to hurt you."
"Yero." He met her eyes, and she fought back a grin at the earnest expression. "You think the Wizard's grand scheme is for you to seduce me?"
"It's a pretty vulnerable position."
"That's a lot of assumptions there."
Fiyero leveled an unimpressed look simply too attractive to exist.
"Murder would be much easier." She handed back the belt. Only Fiyero. His adorable heroism inspired such a wave of affection, she set a kiss on his cheek.
He pressed the belt back at her. "Fae, please. I know you can roast me like a marshmallow if you choose, but-"
"Not out here."
He lifted an eyebrow.
"We're on the run. We've got enough risks as it is without you unable to run." She sighed. "Let's go find Mercus."
"Mercus?"
"If I'm trusting you, which I'm not saying I am, then there's no point avoiding him. Surely he's got a bedroom I can tie you up in."
Fiyero grinned. "Look at us, having a plan."
She reached for her broom, and realized with a jolt it wasn't slung on her shoulder.
She spun around. Where was it? There. She scooped it up from the ground, her heart thudding. She hadn't let her broom out of touch since that day. Already he was messing with her. Ugh. She tucked it against her shoulder blades with thin lips.
"Let's go."
As they trekked through the darkness, her rationality threatened to steal the moment, but she refused to second guess herself. She'd decided. And if she wanted to be stupid for a change, she would. What had being smart done for her? She'd nearly died a hundred times over anyway, and half of them were salvaged by luck, not wit.
Not to mention the moonlight on him could convince a saint to stray. What chance did a self-confessed sinner like her have? She'd just be careful. Surely she could kiss him without losing her head.
They reached the outskirts of the town just as dawn's first sleepy rays peeked over the horizon. Fiyero led them to a row of brownstones that might have been transplanted from Shiz, complete with the peeling paint on the door.
He pounded a series of knocks.
"Quiet!" she hissed. She yanked her cloak tighter around her. "You want to wake the world?"
"I want to wake Mercus, and unless he's changed, that might take a bomb."
The door finally jerked open to reveal a bare chested Mercus. "Songbird!" He rubbed his eyes. "Aw, what'd ya have to bring him for?"
"Sex."
Fiyero coughed while Mercus guffawed. "Lurline, woman. It's too early for this." He stepped aside, and they slipped out of sight. "Does this mean I can convince you to join us finally?"
"Depends what you mean by that."
He waggled his eyebrows, but said, "The Resistance, of course. I know better than to push my luck." He shuffled toward the back. "Coffee?"
"Please."
Fiyero flopped onto the couch, but she stayed by the door, broom in hand. It had been too long for her to easily leave an escape route.
Mercus strolled back in with two mugs of steaming caffeine. He handed her one and then settled in an armchair. Fiyero waved a hand. "Forget one?"
"Pot's in the back. Knock yourself out."
Fiyero's lips puckered. "Some host."
"You get enough handed to you. Does you some good to fend for yourself." Mercus shot a wink at her, and Fiyero hauled himself up with a sigh. She smirked, but she couldn't help thinking that maybe that wasn't the case for him anymore.
She intercepted him with the cup from her hands.
He blinked down, but she slipped into the kitchen before he could say anything. She felt his eyes on her back. "Unbelievable," came Mercus's voice, and the expression he wore in her imagination made her chuckle.
She poured the coffee. The aroma stirred in the air made her close her eyes. In an instant, she was back in the library, a book on her lap and a boy at her feet. She rummaged through the cabinets and found the spices.
Idiot, she thought, but she tipped in cinnamon. Oz, a few hours, and she'd gone completely soft.
She brought the bottle back with her and handed it to him. His eyes dragged from it up to her with a heat that definitely didn't come from the spice. "Thank you," he whispered, and her face flamed.
Mercus set his cup down on the end table. "So, what's the plan?"
"I really doubt you want to know." Fiyero choked on his coffee, and she grinned. "But we can talk about that this afternoon." Or her sanity might return from wherever she'd lost it by then.
Mercus made a face and threw a pillow. Fiyero jerked his cup to safety with a shout. "Hey!" He rubbed at the spot a rogue drop had left.
"Go on, then. Your damned lucky face is making me sick."
Elphaba patted his leg. "Come on. Better get you out of those pants."
Mercus hung his head back and groaned.
She stood, and the boys followed. At the stairs, she turned back and kissed Mercus on the cheek. "Thank you."
"Think that's my line, Songbird." Her eyebrows drew in, and he caught her elbow with a squeeze. "You're here." This soft smile fit much better on his face than his attempts at charm. "And you'll see. You can trust us. We're gonna really make things happen now."
She patted his cheek. "After I sleep. Do you know how long it's been since I've been in a bed?"
"You just want me to ruin the moment, don't you?"
He led them up the steps to a small room half-filled by said bed. Cozy curtains filtered the sun into a dappled design of leaves, but the windows were wide enough she could squeeze out if needed.
"Bathroom's through there, towels in the cupboard." He smacked Fiyero's shoulder on the way out. "I expect you to bring me my own little Songbird for this someday."
"Too bad, mate. She's one of a kind."
Elphaba rolled her eyes. "I see your charm hasn't improved any."
She shut the door, and Fiyero flopped against the mattress. "Blame the fatigue."
"Well, if you're too tired-"
He shot up and caught her hand. "Not for you." He pulled her on his lap, and she curled her arms around his neck. He kissed her, and she sighed against him.
"We're being idiots."
Dirt smudged his brow above those puppy eyes, and she rubbed a thumb over the mark. Ugh, she ought to have taken him to a cave before her better sense kicked in. She was playing with his life here.
He kissed her wrist.
She shifted up and sighed. "We're filthy."
"I don't mind." She rolled her eyes, and he pressed a kiss to his palm. "Bath works, too."
He disappeared through the narrow door. The water ran, pounding away, and she twisted her broom in her fingertips. The clouds drifted by with shade. They'd hide her if she did try to run. The windowsill bit into her side, but he peeked back just then.
Such a cautious expression. It made her heart ache. She took a measured stride forward and smacked her broomstick in his hand. Wide-eyed, he gripped the handle. "Keep this safe for me?"
Without waiting for an answer, she retreated to the bathroom.
"Not exactly what I meant," Fiyero teased through the door without venom. Her laugh boomed around the small room, and she could imagine his grin in return.
She slipped out of her clothes. The hot water drew a hiss, but she sank in until it engulfed her entirely. Sweet merciful water. How long had it been? The heat worked on the impossible knots in her muscles as the soap liberated layers of dirt. She soaked until the water grew cold, and even then, she considered draining it and refilling.
As that dirt sloughed off, she felt like a snake shedding her skin. She toweled dry and didn't bother with a stitch of clothing. Now, for Fiyero.
She opened the door, and he tumbled back in a pile with her broom.
"Were you sitting by the door?"
He blinked.
"Asleep?"
"Are you…"
She rolled her eyes. "Most people get naked in a bath."
He gulped a breath.
"Your turn." She padded to her pack and retrieved her comb. A hand brushed over her back, and she smiled. "You didn't want a bath?"
He hummed a response as his lips found her shoulder.
She straightened up and turned to face him, and he rewarded her with arms banded about her waist. "I want you in it."
She traced his eyebrow. "So brazen. Where's your chivalry?"
"With your clothes."
She laughed, and he nosed her wet hair back from her neck. "Fine. At least let me untangle my hair before you twist it all up again."
"Why bother then?" He trailed kisses to her collarbone, and her eyes fluttered shut. "Are those poppies?" The comb lifted from her hand, and she blushed hotly. "You kept it."
Her eyes met his. She swallowed hard. "Let's get you in that bath, huh?"
His lips crashed on hers. They made it in a jumble of arms and legs, his clothing strung out behind them. Damn. She trailed a hand over his impossibly defined muscles, and his fingers flexed on her hips with a curse.
"Forget the bath. I want you now."
She tutted at him. "What happened to slow and patient?"
"Years without you." He devoured her in a fiery kiss, which she returned with equal fervor. He stroked over her breasts with hungry eagerness as she pawed at the last of his clothes. Naked, they wound themselves together.
But then he jerked back. "Wait."
"Damn it, Fiyero," she complained, but he ignored her to rummage through his clothes. He handed her the belt, and she lifted an eyebrow. "Seriously?"
"Seriously."
She sighed and slipped it around his wrists. "I'm surprised you trust me not to drown you in the tub."
His eyes met hers, and she shivered at the intensity. "I trust you."
She had to look away. The water thundered again, but she wasted no time waiting for the tub to fill. She tipped him back against the counter and slid between his legs. He groaned at the friction, so close to where they both wanted.
"Much better." She rotated her hips slowly against him. "We ought to have tried this before." She pulled back. "Do I need to feed you first? I don't want to have to stop again."
"Hilarious," he returned drily, and she grinned.
"I thought so." She slid down him and ran a hand over his chest. "I miss your hands on me, though."
He sucked in a breath. Her fingers drifted lower over his stomach, then hips. "Me, too." She reached lower still, and his eyes fluttered closed. She stroked him once, twice, and then stepped back to check the water.
She tossed a smile over her shoulder at him, and he pursed his lips. "Get over here."
He pushed up and stalked toward her. Oz, the years had been as kind to his body as they had been hard on hers. Even with hands bound, he looked strong, capable, and completely irresistible.
He climbed into the tub awkwardly without his hands. She settled on his lap. The water sloshed high, and she reached behind him to twist the knobs.
He took the opening to kiss her breast, and she gasped at the sensation - soft lips and rough stubble. He caught her nipple with a practiced stroke of the tongue that made her moan. He nibbled it lightly, and sparks shot down her nerves. Then he kissed his way to the other breast. "Never mind," she sighed. "Who needs hands?"
He smiled against her skin, and she let her eyes flutter closed. Her fingers wound in his hair. For a moment, she indulged in the delicious feeling he spread through her.
A palm of shampoo scrubbed in his hair made him blink up at her.
"I can take care of you, too, you know."
He fell at her with a deep kiss that sent the water splashing. She hauled him back and swatted his shoulder.
"Behave, you. We don't want to flood Mercus's bathroom."
"He'll forgive us."
She lathered the soap, and trailed it over his face. He puckered his lips. "There. No kissing for a minute unless you want bubbles in your nose."
"Worth it," he threatened, but he held still.
She worked the bar over his neck and shoulders, strong arms and muscular back, the ridges of his stomach. His eyes glossed over, and she grinned at the heaviness in his gaze. She reached behind her and trailed the soap up each leg, her ministrations thorough as they covered every inch of his warm skin.
The water rolling down his body as she rinsed him made such a tempting image. "Hmm, you still seem a little dirty. Let me help." She drew a deep breath and then sank on him under the water. He moaned loud enough that it drowned out the water in her ears. She sucked hard, and he gasped. Her tongue lapped around him eagerly until she needed a breath.
She broke the surface and wiped her face from the water. She barely managed a breath before his lips crashed on hers. The water sloshed again, spilling at least a bucket, but he didn't spare a glance. He sunned toward her as his arms yanked uselessly at the belt.
"You'll hurt yourself."
"Fae," he murmured back, though whether request or complaint, she wasn't sure. His eyes fell closed as she stroked a hand over him. "Please."
She leaned her forehead against his. "I'm here."
Maybe he'd been right about their vulnerability, because she felt a trembling work through her. He poured his heart out for her, and much as she wanted to deny it, she melted under his spell.
"Never leave again." His eyes flew wide, pupils blown, and his words tore through her. "Please. I can't be without you."
She couldn't promise that. How could she promise that?
A spike of panic made her jerk back. The water slapped the sides. She climbed out and snatched a towel. She had to get out of here.
"Where are you going?"
The desperation in his voice called her back, and the belt looped around his wrists made her flush with shame. She was going to abandon him like that? She knelt by the tub and reached for his wrist, but he jerked away.
"We're going to have more water out than in at this rate."
He didn't laugh. "You're leaving?"
"No." Yes.
He hung his head. "Kumbricia. Why?"
"I'm not," she sighed. She couldn't leave him. Not like this. "Give me your wrists."
He snapped his arms away, his face hard.
"Yero, quit it." She grabbed for him again, but he tipped his chin so she'd have to meet his eyes.
"What did I do wrong?"
"Give me your wrists so we can move to the bed." This time he let her remove the belt. As he stepped from the tub, his erection bobbed, but he didn't reach for her.
What was she doing? Oz, how could he stand her?
He moved stiffly to drain the tub, and she slipped back to give him room. Her fingers slid over the leather belt. "Maybe I should wear it." She had to stop this. Run or don't. Stop flitting between.
His jaw clenched, and the muscle at his groin bobbed.
She slipped it on, a thousand images of what he might do to her filling her mind, but his hands fell on hers before she could tighten it. "I don't want to tie you down," he whispered. "I've never wanted you on a leash. I just want to go with you."
Heat poured through her.
She flung herself at him. He caught her easily, and she wrapped both legs around his waist. He walked them to the bed.
She clutched him to her, at a loss for words, but somehow he understood. He buried himself inside her, so perfect. She swallowed her moan in a fierce kiss, her arms scrambling for more of him. More. She wanted more.
He pounded into her, both of them gasping, fingers everywhere, lost in an ocean of feeling. His blistering pace raged desperate, as if terrified she'd scamper away again, but she matched him stroke for stroke.
Still, she felt compelled to say, "You don't want to be with me." Her life was hard and dangerous and miserable, definitely worse no matter how his had changed.
He palmed her cheek, his rhythm never faltering. "That's all I've ever wanted."
She shivered. A wave of pleasure ran through her, but he didn't slow. Her nails sank into the back of his neck, and still he held her eyes. Locked together, she couldn't tell where she stopped and he began. Another wave crested, and she moaned loudly.
"Yero, please."
His eyes burned into her with their ferocity. He hiked her leg higher, hitting some secret, impossibly deep place inside her that sparked with the energy.
She gasped, and surrendered with a boneless shout. The waves rolled through her, tethered only by her grip on him. How had she ever left him? It seemed impossible now.
With a few ragged thrusts, he emptied himself into her. She felt it in more than her body, a terrifying union of souls that flooded her with alarming intimacy. She could hardly breathe. This is why she'd run.
Oz damnit.
How? They'd spent years apart and only hours to reconcile. They'd hurt each other so much, and yet, still he gave his heart to her. She kissed him slowly, tenderly. She didn't deserve him.
He brushed her hair back from her face. "Sleep?"
She stretched and sunned into him. "Mm, please."
"Yes, ma'am." He slipped free to pad to the bathroom and returned after a few moments with the belt. "Just in case."
"For you, or me?" she teased.
He frowned.
"Kidding." She tossed it aside. "If you can trust me not to fly off, I can trust you not to strangle me."
He trailed a hand over her. "What if-"
"I don't trust myself, either," she confessed, and he pulled her close. "But we'll just have to muddle through. I promise not to disappear this time." That she could do.
He wound a hand in her hair as he pulled her on top of him.
She laughed. "I thought you wanted sleep?"
"I never said that. You did." His fingers traced her ribs, and she shivered. "But you're naked, and making me promises. I only have so much self restraint."
She rolled her hips against him. "Is that so?"
He grinned. "I like you on top." He ran those large, warm palms over her.
"I like you with your hands free."
He slid a hand between them, and her eyes rolled back at the wave of pleasure. "Whyever would that be?"
By the time they finally found their way to sleep, curled up tight in one another's arms, the midday sun streamed through the windows. She woke several hours later with a gasp. Her eyes flew around, frantic, until she remembered where she was.
"Morning," Fiyero rasped, and she buried her face in his chest.
"Why'd you let me sleep so long?"
He tugged a hand through the tangled mess that was her hair. "A ridiculous question." He nodded toward the mirror.
"Are you insinuating I look bad?"
She sat up, and he matched her to press sleepy kisses to her neck. "I'm insinuating you clearly haven't been taking care of yourself."
She glared at him through the mirror. "I suppose you want to take care of me?"
"I can think of a few ways how." He trailed his fingers over her arms. "Do you want me to take care of you?"
"When you put it like that." She hauled him over her, and it was another couple hours before they made it downstairs.
"So much for afternoon," Mercus teased. "I'm surprised you came out at all."
Elphaba descended the stairs with head held high, but Fiyero's hand lodged in his hair. "I still feel like I could sleep for ages."
Mercus disappeared in the kitchen and came back three coffees this time. "Since you've come up for air, should we discuss tactics? I figured: first things first."
"Glinda," Fiyero said at the same time Mercus added, "Boq," and Elphaba offered, "the Wizard." They stared at each other.
Elphaba sighed. "A great start."
"Well, they're all at the palace, at least." Mercus sat, and they took the couch opposite. "Easy enough to get in, but getting out is something else entirely."
"I found a tunnel."
Fiyero shook his head. "Dight's secured it by now." She pursed her lips. "I think the best move is a split assault."
He snatched a discarded page and flipped it over.
"Glinda will probably be here or here." He drew a pair of X's. "The Wizard is harder. But he hears petitions most Thursdays. His extra guards pull bodies from the other stations. Add in the training regime, and they should be half occupied, or at least worn out."
Mercus leaned forward. "So we go for Glinda-"
"In her public office, yes. The Wizard won't expect that, I think. But we'll have to be careful. Tired men are much more likely to shoot than chase."
Elphaba blinked. "When did you get such an eye for tactics?"
Mercus cleared his throat. "Do you forget what he's been doing these last couple years?"
Her face fell.
"I know the palace. This is a solid plan." Fiyero's eyes fell to her hand. "I have something to offer now."
"You always did."
He flashed her a smile that disagreed, and she squeezed his hand. "Outside the bedroom."
"Ugh, please don't make me picture that," Mercus complained, and she threw a pillow at him.
Fiyero frowned at the map. "Boq is harder. They're calling him a tiktok, so he might not be in the main cells. Grommetik had a key he gave the Wizard. I wonder-"
"That damned thing is still around?" Scenes from that awful dinner sprung to mind, though that might be the wrong Tiktok. She could never remember which of Morrible's schemes went with which lackeys.
"You have the worst luck with keys, mate." Mercus sipped his coffee. "Should we bother? A pickaxe ought to work just as well."
"Unless Morrible magicked it." Fiyero frowned. "The key. The one I lost. What did it look like?"
"Small. Brass." Mercus tilted his head. "Kind of a criss-cross pattern I think."
"That's the one. How did the Wizard get it?"
"Grommetik." She shook her head. "Must've been. Morrible must have had him take it."
"How did she know?" She shrugged, and he flopped forward so his elbows leaned on his knees. "What was it to?"
Mercus kicked back. "Some metal thing. It made Animals lose their voices."
Dread formed in the pit of her stomach. "And if they put Boq in there?" They shared a look. "We have to get that key."
Fiyero added it to the map. "We'll scout the tunnel first in case Dight forgot about it. If not, a pair of petitioners could get 'lost' here, down a staircase, and hopefully it's still in the drawer."
"Lot of 'if's there."
Mercus shrugged. "Nothing to be done about it. And Glinda?"
"Elphaba and I will get her. She'll fly her out of the palace, and we'll meet you here." He added a central dot. "You find something with wheels to help us carry Boq, and if the key's not there, we'll just have to haul the whole damned thing."
"How do we get out?"
He sighed. "With luck and a prayer."
"If we're going by anyone's luck," Mercus said with a smirk, "let's choose yours."
"The South exit isn't too far from the armory. A well-placed fire," he paused to mark it, "and we ought to have a few seconds of cover to get out."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Or explode the entire palace and bury everyone in rubble."
He blew out a long breath. "A very carefully placed fire, then."
"Damn, Yero. That might actually work." Mercus tossed back the last of his coffee and collected the empty cups. "Tomorrow then."
He left to gather the troops, and Elphaba turned to Fiyero. "You're good at this. Planning. It's risky, but measured."
"Glad I can contribute."
She tilted his chin to her. "You always contributed, you know." He pressed a kiss to her hairline, and she recognized the avoidance in his gesture. "And you're still sure about Glinda, even after the...tea?"
His forehead furrowed.
"Course you are." He was the most forgiving man in existence. He'd probably never even considered the betrayal. She stood with his fingers loose in her hand. "If we're waiting till tomorrow, should we go back to bed?"
He trailed after her up the stairs. "Sleepy?"
"Nope."
He grinned. "An excellent plan."
"You're not the only thinker here," she teased. "I've got all sorts of plans, you know."
The wind kicked up outside, rattling the window, and Elphaba pulled the shade tight. Who needed a window or broom when she had a warm bed to ride out the storm? She curled up against Fiyero, and they did their best to drown out the thunder.