Chapter 34

On the fourth day of Elphaba and Liir's journey back to the Emerald City it began to snow. It started around midmorning, coming down in beautiful, pristine powdery white showers, making the ground beneath their feet squeak and crunch with the sound of pulverized ice chips, and alighting on their shoulders and hair.

Elphaba drew her cloak wearily up over her head and mentally cursed the stuff. Though the snow was not yet wet enough to cause her a serious problem it did provide an effective reminder that Lurlinemas Eve was again drawing near. She had never been able to see the joy in a religious feast. Even as a small child, she had spent Lurlinemas watching members of Frex's blindly faithful flock lavish attention of Nessarose and stare, almost fearfully, at her, the little green dragon girl, as though waiting for her to act on their resentment, to curse them somehow.

No, thought Elphaba ruefully, If only I could. I only curse those that I love.

As she had grown older Lurlinemas had metamorphosed into a time of bad memories and remembered tragedy.

"Hello?" said Liir, giving her an odd look, and Elphaba realized suddenly that she'd stopped walking.

The boy had been, like much of the world, treating her cautiously for the past several days. He tried to conceal it, certainly, but there were still times when Elphaba caught him watching her out of the corner of her eye, looking as though he was afraid she might explode, or shatter into a thousand pieces, or simply go up in a puff of smoke. She couldn't really blame him considering. Still, it was another irritation on top of everything.

"Yes, yes, let's go," said Elphaba briskly, and resumed walking with a vigor she didn't really feel. Perhaps if they journeyed fast enough, she thought, she could flee her grief and leave it behind, trapped and rotting like everything else in the Quadling marshes. Hard to believe now that the place had ever been the least bit habitable. That she had lived there as a child. Hard to believe now that she had ever been a child. Hard to believe now that she had ever been the least bit happy.

"No," said Liir, "w-wait," stuttering as though speaking to Elphaba was a frightening experience.

Indeed, it probably was, she thought sourly.

"What, boy?"

Liir scowled at Elphaba as though about to say something particularly caustic, but then thought better of it.

"There's-there's a cave over there; it looks abandoned. I just thought y-you might want to stop and rest for the n-night."

Elphaba looked where Liir was pointing. The boy was right. A few feet away there was an opening to a large cave, almost completely obscured by bushes. Although it was only early evening, the wind was picking up and inky black clouds were beginning to cover up the sun. The snow was getting worse as little gusts hurled it at them. It stung Elphaba's face like a thousand tiny darts. Nature's army showing her it was displeased. Elphaba nodded to the boy. Though she knew she would not sleep, it would be good at least to get out of the damp for a while. And she knew Liir must be tired. They had been traveling well into the night the previous few days. To his credit, the boy had not yet complained. Probably too frightened to do so, thought Elphaba.

"All right, boy, pick up the driest branches you can find on your way in. We might as well try for a fire."

Liir scurried over to the edge of the road where the trees began to grow and started gathering up downed branches. Most of them still had leaves on them. Drenched leaves.

"Stop, stop," groaned Elphaba. "You're doing it all wrong."

Liir looked up at her with big dark eyes, dangerously close to tears.

"I-I'm only t-trying to h-help!" he stammered.

Elphaba felt at once sorry and disgusted with him. She went over to where he was stooped over, her boots making wet clomping noises in the snow, and grabbed the wet branches out of his hands, biting her lip to stifle a cry as the water seared her skin. It almost felt good.

"D-don't do that!" cried Liir, evidently noticing the angry red blotches that had appeared on Elphaba's hands. He grabbed the branches back from her and held them a safe distance away. His eyes flashed with defiance.

Elphaba glared at him.

"I asked you for help to begin with. You did not provide it. Do not interfere with me. I will do whatever the hell I please."

Liir's chin jutted out rebelliously.

"N-no you w-won't! N-not if it'll h-hurt you!"

Elphaba's temper ignited.

"I will never understand you, boy," she said icily. She could never summon the hot anger of her youth anymore, no matter how hard she tried. "How you can be so utterly unlike your father."

But as the words left her lips it struck her how wrong she was. Perhaps that was what bothered her so about him. In his warped adolescent way, he was doing exactly what Fiyero would have done under the circumstances. She carefully wrapped her hands in the edge of her cloak and took the branches back from Liir, feeling guilty.

"It's all right, no one's ever taught you, that's all."

Liir looked utterly perplexed at her sudden mood change. Elphaba proceeded to strip the leaves and twigs off the branches, clawing at the bark through the fabric of her cloak in hopes of getting through to the dry center of the wood. But though it had only been snowing for a few hours, the branches were already thoroughly drenched. Elphaba threw the soaked wood to the ground and wished fervently that she'd thought to bring the Grimmerie with her. Glinda still had it, wherever she was at the moment, and it would do her no good, for she knew most of the spells by heart already.

"I'm sorry, Liir," said Elphaba resignedly. "There will be no fire tonight."

The boy's face fell, but he nodded obediently and followed her into the cave. The inside was cold but dry, and relatively shallow so they could be sure it didn't have other occupants. It was almost as though it had been put there on purpose, thought Elphaba suspiciously. She and Liir stood looking awkwardly at one another for a few moments, then the boy took the pack off his back and curled up in a corner. He was dozing almost instantly. Elphaba envied him his ability to sleep so easily despite everything. She had always been a natural insomniac, and now...

When she was sure the boy was asleep, Elphaba knelt down in a corner and took the supply pack she was carrying off her own shoulders. She rummaged around in it, blindly, for a few moments before pulling out a small pocket knife. She unsheathed the blade and stared at it. Even in the darkness, it seemed somehow to shimmer, to glow, and she wondered for a moment if it might be a magic blade. She rolled the sleeves of her cloak up to her elbows and examined the burns left by the wet leaves on her hands. They were red and angry. There had been a time when she would have worried about infection. Now she just stared at the wounds in utter fascination. They were beautiful in a ghastly sort of way. She turned her palm up and examined her wrist, the way the bones of her arm tapered a little before flaring out into her long hand.

Elphaba took the little knife and pressed the tip against the skin of her wrist. It glittered still, silver on emerald, precious metal and gemstone. A single drop of blood appeared at the place where the point of the blade met her skin. She watched it, fascinated, as it rolled down her arm, leaving a red line of inflammation in its path. She was tempted to plunge the knife deeper, to taste the sweet pain of release, but just then in the corner of the room Liir turned in his sleep, whimpering in some frightful dream.

Elphaba shook herself, pulled the knife back, replaced the sheath and pulled her cloak back down to her fingertips, concealing the small wound. She was not finished, certainly not, but she could not stand the thought of more guilt, of another death on her conscience. Suddenly it became paramount that she see the boy back safely. After all, he was all she had left.

But after they were back...when Liir was once again in the hands of the Resistance...Elphaba held the knife up in front of her face and stared at it.

It was beautiful.

It was her only hope.

She felt a sudden surge of love for the little weapon.


::cackles:: Yeah...this one scared me. Review if you love me! (and this fic...)