Chapter Four: The Opposite Direction

"Well," said the Head, "I will give you my answer. You have no right to expect me to send you back to Kansas unless you do something for me in return…If you wish me to use my powers to send you home again you must do something for me first. Help me and I will help you."

"What must I do?" the girl asked.

"Kill the wicked Witch of the West," answered Oz.

--L. Frank Baum

(The Wonderful Wizard of Oz)

Shenshen was crying hysterically when the Major stumbled downstairs, back to the castle's great hall. He barely heard her. After fumbling for a cigarette, he leaned against the stone wall and gazed into space. His mind was reeling over everything he had just heard and seen—from his wedding cake exploding, to the green-skinned woman, to the disappearance of all three troublemakers—the green-skinned intruder, the Countess, and that damn bugger Eroica.

Another part of his mind was insisting that what had just transpired was impossible—"Ludicrous!" he muttered, lighting his second cigarette. Then he started to laugh—the sound grating and ugly, but he couldn't stop himself. He should be overjoyed at the thought of the conniving pervert vanishing off the face of the planet, not to mention those obviously insane women. But it was just so incredibly…

"Stupid! An enchanted mirror—that's just so God-damn stupid!" he laughed. Then he made himself stop, taking a deep drag off his third—or was it fourth?—cigarette. He was startled when his father's hand grasped his shoulder.

"Come with me," the senior Eberbach stated in a low voice. "We need to talk."

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The gardens outside the Schloss Eberbach were cold and grey beneath the overcast sky. Thunder rumbled distantly. His father's face was pale and somehow even older than it had seemed the last time Klaus had looked at him. Really looked at him.

But Klaus could not quite bring himself to think 'my father looks scared.'

"Those two women…" Klaus began.

But Heinz shook his head, interrupting him. "Fae. I mean, Elphaba."

The Major frowned.

"Elphaba Thropp. It is coming back to me now…images, memories, one after the other…" the elder Eberbach drew his breath in a shaky sigh.

"Father…" Klaus could not believe what he was hearing. "What are you saying, exactly?"

"What do you know of your ancestor? The one in the purple portrait," Heinz asked.

"Pumpkin pants," the Major snorted. That painting, so often the object of Eroica's lusty and larcenous desires, had cost him much more trouble then he thought it was worth, cultural heritage or no! Then, because the tank commander was still regarding him soberly, he answered, "His name was Tyrian Persimmon. The histories about his life are…not entirely pleasant, Sir."

"No," his father agreed. "They aren't, are they? The mirror belonged to him. It has been in the family ever since, despite the many troublesome rumours attached to it. It was said to be both haunted and curse—"

"Nonsense," Klaus said without thinking.

But his father merely nodded. "Yes, so I thought…at first," Heinz shut his eyes and grimaced. "My wife Henrietta died well before her time," it was the first time Klaus could recall his father referring to Henrietta solely as 'my wife' and not 'your mother.' "I loved her very dearly. When she died, I was left to grieve alone—the emptiness ate away at me. I had no children, and most of my old friends had died in the war. I knew I should remarry, for the sake of preserving the Eberbach family line, but I could not bear the notion of it. Not after Henrietta…"

The Major was frowning, his cigarette forgotten in his hand. "But Sir—"

"Be quiet and just listen," his father said sternly. "I began going to the attic—the Mirror was there, even back then, not surprising considering all the superstitions regarding it. In any case—I began to be—drawn to it—without reason, like your friend was last night—"

"The Earl is not my friend, father, I assure you—"

"—I couldn't explain what was coming over me. I was in bad shape then, and getting worse. The war was over, and the atrocities of our people were becoming more and more apparent. As I said, I had lost most of my friends, my wife…I was probably very lonely. During the day I would convince myself that I was a soldier, I was strong…but I kept returning to the Mirror, every night.

"Then, one night she came out of it. It didn't really surprise me, although I suppose it should have, in retrospect. But at the time…perhaps I was really close to losing my sanity. So I just accepted it… After all, what else did I have?

"She was so different. She was so—"

"—green?" Klaus supplied dryly.

Heinz only nodded absently. "And all dressed in black, like a mourner. She looked around at the attic in a sort of disgust. 'Oh. So this is the world the Wizard comes from. I was expecting more.' When I told her I didn't know of any wizards she seemed genuinely surprised.

"She was interested in our world from a scholarly sort of perspective, I think. Like an archaeologist who has discovered the ruins of an ancient city—"

Klaus could not believe he was hearing this. And from his father. "You are saying that she does come from another world? But that is absurd!"

His father glared at him. "Have you an alternate explanation?

"She came back many times. We talked. I think she was very lonely as well. She would not discuss her personal life—only the state of her world and politics and things like that—but I think she had also lost someone very dear to her—a husband, perhaps, or at least a lover. When one has gone through something so painful oneself, you can begin to sense it in other people…"

This is not happening. I am not hearing this. Klaus lit another cigarette and stared at the wilting flowers. This is not possible. This is just not possible.

"In any case…ah…this isn't easy for me to say, but I have been lying to you, Son, for thirty-three years now," there was a stretch of extremely uncomfortable silence, in which Heinz cleared his throat. "Henrietta was not your mother. She did die in childbirth, but not giving birth to you. The child died with her. That was a year before you were born."

Klaus nearly swallowed his cigarette. "Then that green-skinned woman…?" his voice sounded low and hoarse in disbelief.

Heinz laughed nervously. "I was so surprised to see you didn't even have a tinge of green in your complexion! It was a bit of luck, imagine having to explain that to our relatives!"

"How did you explain—to our relatives?" the Major frowned.

Heinz gestured impatiently. "That's hardly important now, most of those who were around back then are too old, too senile, or too dead to remember the scandal—"

"Scandal?" his head was starting to ache.

"Well what do you expect? You didn't have a mother! In the end though, I managed to get everyone sworn to secrecy…don't underestimate the power of blackmail."

"Are you joking?" but the commander's face told Klaus he wasn't.

"And now you know the truth," his father sighed. "So perhaps it was all for nothing."

This is a dream. You're going to wake up at any second now. It has to be a dream. Because mirrors aren't gateways to other worlds, and your mother certainly wasn't a green witch! "I don't believe any of this."

"I know you don't," Heinz said quietly. "But—wait."

"What?"

"What happened to that Englishman?"

"The Earl?" Klaus rubbed his temples tiredly. "The…mirror…There was a light, and the Countess and the Earl were pulled through the mirror with…"

"Elphaba."

Heinz sighed tiredly. "I've grown old. She hasn't. She looks just as I remember. I can't claim to have any sort of idea what the world is like on the other side of that glass—I could never bring myself to pass through its surface. It would have just been…too much. But from what Elphaba told me about her world, it isn't a very pleasant place. They seem to be in the middle of some sort of war. And she seemed to have a lot of enemies. It could be very dangerous…"

"Sir, are you suggesting that I go in there after them?" To save that damn faggot who has harassed me for years!

His father merely shrugged tiredly. "Whatever you decide to do, decide soon. As I said, Elphaba should look as old as I am…she doesn't."

Neither did Dorian's…mother. So that was his mother, after all. So time is different in that other world. Great. Just fucking great.

He would have to go save that degenerate queer. The reasons…well…He couldn't just let the other man get eaten by a magic mirror, no matter how much Klaus despised him. It just wasn't…It would be a profoundly stupid way for someone to die.

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"Why am I doing this again?" the Major scowled, when, twenty minutes later, he was standing in the attic (this time wearing his uniform and trench coat, instead of that stupid tuxedo, and with his .44 magnum in hand!).

He reached out a tentative hand and touched the filmy-glass of the mirror. His fingers melded into the surface and slipped through. A cold wave shivered down his spine, which he, being the Iron Klaus of NATO Intelligence, of course ignored entirely.

"Oh right, I'm supposed to be valuing human life or something like that…" besides, he couldn't return to NATO yet, having taken time off for the wedding, and at least something that might be dangerous sounded more interesting than consoling Shenshen. Or worse, rescheduling the wedding ceremonies.

He sighed, holstered the gun, and took a step towards the—

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Gateway. The mirrors were gateways to other worlds. They were really, really gateways to…Dorian groaned and tried to sit up, but at the moment, everything still hurt too much for that. He had been slammed into the ground and his head was still ringing. Overhead, the sky was grey and horribly muddy-looking. The ground was cold, the dead brown grass frigid and frozen under a thin layer of frost. There were hills, and a smattering of the dead skeletal remnants of burnt-black trees. Smoke was rising in thick black columns in the distance. And he was certainly "Not in Germany anymore…"

He pulled himself to his feet, a little shakily, and brushed most of the dirt and dead grass off of his clothing. Neither the Witch nor his mother were anywhere in sight. He briefly considered calling out to them, but remembered the argument his mother had with the strange woman—"They're trying to kill you in the Vinkus!"—and decided it would probably be wiser to remain silent and try to get a better sense of his surroundings.

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"Elphaba…" she was brought back by Galinda's voice, calling to her through her thick haze of sleep. Why was her bed in the Shiz dorm room so hard? And cold? Why did she smell smoke? And blood? "Elphie, wake up! Please wake up, Elphie!" Was that grass beneath her fingers?

She opened her eyes. It was Glinda who was sitting on the ground next to her, not the Galinda of their university days. Shiz, and the room they had shared there so many years ago, was kingdoms away. Years away. Lifetimes away. They were—

"Where are we?" she muttered, pressing a hand tightly over her eyes. "Why aren't we at Kiamo Ko?" the castle-fortress where her Mirror was located. Any other time she had passed through the Mirror, she had emerged through its twin, safe within the castle walls. The castle that had once belonged to her lover's wife, and hostess, Sarima, and was now guarded by the local Winkie militia who believed she could still somehow save them from the Wizard's encroaching forces.

Looking at Glinda, the witch could see her blonde ex-roommate was just as confused as she was. And frightened. "We're in the Vinkus, aren't we, Elphie?" she whispered. "And the Wizard's soldiers are looking for you here!"

The Witch snatched her broom up from where it had fallen in the dirt next to her. "I know that," she also knew that the Wizard's soldiers were afraid of her, mostly stationed at the town of Red Winmill, the Wizard's watchdogs there to report on her every movement.

…but for how long that fear would last while outnumbering her, fully armed, in the light of day, and without the protection of the small but loyal Winkie milita that guarded Kiamo Ko, believing her to be the only one who could somehow rescue their royal family (they didn't know Sarima and the others had been brutally executed long ago) remained to be seen.

"We have to get back to Kiamo Ko…" she paused and looked at the crystal wand clutched pitifully in the Countess' dainty gloved hands. "I don't suppose that will do us a lot of good if worse comes to worst. Also, making the cake explode only looked foolish, I would have thought your skills would have advanced somewhat in all this time, Glinda."

"Well you don't have to be mean about it!" the blonde snapped, pouting as she struggled to her feet amidst the massive blue and silver folds of her gown.

Elphaba wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I see your taste in clothing hasn't improved any."

"Oh don't start that again now," Glinda said. "Elphie, didn't Dorian get touched by the mirror, with us?"

"Dorian?" the Witch asked. "You mean that annoying blond man in the foppish clothes? Reminded me a bit of Tibbett and Crope."

Glinda frowned. "Yes. He's my son."

The Witch snorted. "Figures,"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I don't seem him around here, in any case. For his sake, I hope he didn't get sucked in with us. The Gale Force isn't known for their mercy…" the Witch's forehead creased in a deep scowl, she seemed to be remembering something. "Liir used to shadow their every movement with a child's admiration, but lately he's been greatly upset by the shows they make of killing people."

"Liir?"

Elphaba merely glared at her, as though for daring to be curious. "He is a child. He lives with Nanny and I in Kiamo Ko."

"Your son?" Glinda asked in disbelief. "And Klaus is your son as well…?"

The Witch merely gave her another long, withering look. "Maybe…" she muttered, turning on her heel.

"Maybe?" Glinda asked incredulously.

"You're not a parrot, are you, Glinda, dear?"

"…Sorry. I don't suppose it's any of my business."

"No, it isn't."

They had begun walking. Glinda wished she hadn't worn heels, as the uneven earth caused her feet to ache. "We're not really friends anymore, are we?"

"Were we? At some time?" the Witch asked coldly, still looking straight ahead.

"Wasn't there a time?" Glinda asked. "At Shiz? When you might have called me your friend?"

"…No, I don't think so, Glinda."

"Surely there must have been! Don't you remember—you, and Nessarose, and I, eating lunch together in Crage Hall?"

"You mean when you first got the knack for making other people's food explode in their face?"

Glinda smiled a little. "…Yes, I suppose so."

But Elphaba Thropp remained silent.

There were other memories floating out there, as well. There was the Emerald City…an fleeting exchange in the back of a carriage. A brush of lips against skin…but she didn't want to mention that.

The minutes dragged by, stretched into hours, and Glinda began to grow cold, the gown was heavy, her feet hurt, and she was getting out of breath, but Elphaba continued on as though she could keep walking for another million miles without pause. The blonde sorceress pouted, but it hardly did any good, since Elphie wasn't looking at her.

Then something in the air changed. It felt heavier, somehow. Something sinister tugged at the back of her mind, and Glinda shuddered. "Elphie…Elphie I don't like this."

She smelled smoke now, and the strange coppery stench of blood and…decay. "Elph—"

"Hush!" the Witch had finally stopped, and she held a hand to Glinda's mouth, her eyes dark, conveying a very stern warning. "We are nearing the village of Red Windmill, where the Wizard's soldiers are stationed."

"Can't we go around? Somehow?" she asked in a murmur of a voice.

"We are," the Witch replied with a grimace. "As much as possible. You want to reach Kiamo Ko and the protection of the Arjiki tribes and Winkie militia by nightfall, don't you?"

Glinda shivered and regarded her companion uneasily. "But is it…safe?"

"Of course not, don't be an idiot," Elphaba stated flatly. "Now shut up and follow me."

It wasn't very long until they saw they body. Glinda stumbled, she would have fallen right on her face if Elphaba hadn't grabbed her arm in a bone-crushing grip and dragged her past it. She felt bile rising in her gut, burning the back of her throat, and she began to make a horrible choking-gagging noise.

She thought she was going to be sick. A minute later, she was.

Elphaba regarded her impatiently, looking around worriedly to see if any of the soldiers were on lookout. "Hurry up!" she ordered, as though Glinda had any choice. A minute later, Elphaba was dragging her on.

Ten minutes later, the gruesome remains were out of sight, but the stench still hung faintly in the air. And Glinda still tasted the bile in her mouth. She wanted desperately to erase the image of the mutilated corpse from her mind, but it was still there, every time she shut her eyes.

She was surprised to find that Elphaba was helping her walk. She hadn't even noticed it, in the moments of horror after seeing the soldier's body. "Why…why would they do that…to one of their own, Elphie?" she whispered in a shaking voice.

Elphaba's bony grip tightened on her shoulder. "Liir found him like that a few days ago. He overheard what happened, and it upset him a lot—he was always too fascinated with soldiers for his own damn good—apparently the soldier suggested something and his superiors didn't approve. They decided to use him to make an example to the others—make sure no one else has thoughts of interfering with the Wizard's plans."

"Oh…what are the Wizard's plans?"

"You mean besides unification? The usual—he's sending someone to kill me."

"Like an assassin?" Glinda asked.

"Something like that," the Witch murmured. "Can you walk now?"

"What? Oh—y—yes," Glinda said quietly, wrapping her arms around her waist as Elphaba let her go.

Both women fell into a long and uncomfortable silence.

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There were mountains in the distance. Steep, black, craggy-looking mountains. Dorian wasn't sure he liked the sight of them. He had been walking for over an hour, and with no sign of his mother or the witch. He had found a small village, but chosen to observe it at a distance for the time being. It seemed overrun with soldiers, the uniforms of which did not resemble anything he had ever seen before, even at a distance. If they were the ones his mother had said were trying to kill people, he didn't think it would be to his advantage to saunter down the hill and introduce himself.

Especially not after the body he'd found, provided those soldiers stationed down there were the ones responsible for it. And they seemed to be, since they certainly hadn't removed it.

Dorian crouched at the base of one of the few barren trees scattered over the rough terrain and held his head in his hands. This was a nightmare. Only not the sort where you could wake up. No, the stench of that rotting corpse had been too real for that, the nauseating smell of blood, even long-dried. It had been splattered all over the victim's stripped body, from where his stomach had been sliced open, his entrails falling out as the corpse twisted slowly through the air, nailed crudely to an old windmill. Stripped, castrated, and gutted. It really wasn't a fate Dorian was in a hurry to share.

Finally, he stood again, and looked around once more at the dismal alien landscape that surrounded him. "What a time to get lost…" he looked one way, and then the other. The land in both directions looked exactly the same. And none of it looked pleasant. Not to mention that he didn't have the foggiest ghost of a notion where his mother and the Witch would have gone anyways.

"Could this possibly get any more difficult!"

There was the sound—the click of a loaded gun—no, make that several loaded guns, and the Earl turned slowly to see that he had somehow been surrounded by a group of the soldiers he had been trying so hard to avoid.

They were armed with ancient-looking muskets and swords, which might have made the Earl laugh, if not for the fact that even horrendously out-of-date weapons could still kill you quite effectively.

"You're not from around here," the Commander stated in a voice utterly devoid of emotion. "You're not one of the Winkie tribes…hell you look Gilikinese!"

Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

"Uh…I was travelling with some…merchants (hell, it was worth a shot) and I got…um…separated from my companions."

"No merchants travel through the Great Kells these days," the Commander snorted. "The Great and Powerful Oz is especially interested in keeping a close eye on the Vinkus, and their tribes. For obvious reasons."

Riiiiight. Obvious. How do I get myself into these situations again?

"I don't even know the Great and…whatever…Oz,"

"FOOL! No one "knows" the almighty Wizard!"

Wizard? Are these men sane?

"Besides, I didn't know I was trespassing on your…Great…Kells,"

"You mean you passed through a mountain range without noticing it?" the soldiers sneered.

"Bind his hands," the Commander nodded to two of the soldiers. "You're coming with us."

To be continued in Chapter Five: Good Intentions