Any moment grows louder when surrounded by silence, and
it is the silence between the words in which the
disappointment echoes. Glinda sat nervously between
Elphie and Fiyero, the tense silence ringing in her ears.
She even started biting her nails, something a girl of
her stature didn't do. Well, she reminded her self,
former stature.

Sweet Oz, if looks could kill, Fiyero would be dead on
the ground. Elphaba glared at him, trying to assess the
situation. "You realize, you are a great threat to us
here," she said. "You know more about us than you should,
in fact you probably know about as much as Glinda does
about what goes on here. Now, you're working for what
we're working against. What kind of friend are you,
Fiyero?"

He hung his head. "It's not like there was much I could
do, Elphie," he began to explain again, but she cut him
off.

"There is no Elphie!" She cried. "She is dead! No Elphie,
no Glinda! You must keep our secrets!" Her green face
flushed an odd shade, somewhere between green and red,
like a lizard with sunburn.

"Elphie, I could maybe work as a double agent for you,"
he suggested gently. She considered it at great length
before finally calming down. She nodded her head once,
cautiously.