A/N: Hi everyone. I had hoped to have this chapter up sooner, since I decided once uni finished early that I was going to turn my attention to this fic in earnest, and get it finished. What actually happened was that I changed my mode of working. Up until now I have been pantsing this fic, which has worked up to a point, but it was starting to stress me out, and I really wanted a clear roadmap for how I'm going to round everything up. So, guess what that means? I have turned to… planning! Me, planning? I know. That's what I felt too. So, I've now worked out the kinks, and I've planned for 29 chapters in total (possibly spilling over to 30, but only if it's necessary). That isn't to say I'm a pro at this - not at all. I'm still learning. But I really hope you like where I'm taking this. I feel like I've already gone through this journey with Elphaba, which is emotionally exhausting! But so satisfying. A quick note: what this does mean is that I will also be taking the time to plan my next fic properly, so there will be a gap between the end of this fic and the beginning of the next. But I decided I want to do the story justice. I'm really looking forward to it. (Note to WickedObsessed - it will see the return of our favourite blonde!)

Anyway, that's all I have to say for now. Stay safe.

They were leaving in the morning.

They stayed at the warehouse another night as a precaution – the men who had found them before could still be around. But the longer they stayed, the greater their chance of discovery at last. They had to be gone, and sooner rather than later.

The plan was in place. Everyone was registered in groups. Each group would leave separately, their leaving times staggered. They couldn't all leave at once; a tsunami of Animals would definitely be noticed. The first group would leave in the early hours of the morning. The second would follow half an hour after the first, and the third, half an hour after them. If everything went as it should, they would be out of here by sunrise. All would have to make their way separately to Quox, and none could go the same route as another.

Heading for Quox had been Fiyero's idea. Elphaba initially argued against him – how could they help the Animals resume a normal life unless they remained in Oz? But Fiyero was right, of course, and she'd been forced to see it. At least temporarily, they had no choice but to evacuate at once. Fiyero reasoned with her that perhaps when things were safe, they could return. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

It was dangerous. They wouldn't have the security of numbers, and they were bringing the boys too, who had no other options. Elphaba hated that she couldn't think of a way to keep them safe. Sometimes she wondered if she should have sent them to an orphanage after all. But when she did, Fiyero would remind her that the state of those orphanages didn't bear thinking about. It was another reason Elphaba couldn't afford to mess up.

She planned to return to the Munchkin City Tower on their way to Quox. They still had unanswered questions about the explosion, and Elphaba had insisted that the only way to answer them was to go back and look around. If it had been arson - and she had no reason to believe otherwise at this point – then there must be some evidence left behind. She needed to find it.

Elphaba paced the warehouse, running over everything in her mind. She was so distracted she almost didn't notice her glasses lying discarded on the ground. The lenses were smashed. One of the Animals must have accidentally trodden on them – hardly surprising, in all the excitement. She picked them up off the ground, turning the twisted instrument over in her hands. She had never had trouble with her eyesight; they even irritated her eyes. She only began wearing them at Governor Thropp's insistence. She was glad they were broken, she realised. It gave her an excuse to trust her judgement. She dropped them back on the ground and crunched them under her heel. It was odd how much lighter she felt doing that. And yet, the act felt like a betrayal. She abandoned them on the ground and leaned against the wall of the warehouse, trying to forget about their escape plans – about her father – about everything. At least long enough to calm her racing heart.

Fiyero appeared by her side. "You're angry."

Elphaba's lips twitched. How had he noticed that? She thought she'd been hiding it pretty well. "I'm not."

"You are." Taking her hand. "Don't try to hide it. It's not worth it."

"Okay, then, I'm angry." She was quiet for a while. "I hate him."

Fiyero sighed, then pulled her into his side. She tensed at the motion but couldn't help leaning into him. "Do you?" he said, staring somewhere off to the side. "Or do you still love him, really?"

Elphaba started breathing heavily. "I hate Governor Thropp. I hate myself for being related to him."

Fiyero hummed. "And you hate yourself for still loving him."

"I don't!" Elphaba turned to him. "Do you really think so low of me?"

"I don't think lowly of you. I think you are angry at him for what he's done to the Animals, but you're also angry at him because he doesn't love you."

Elphaba pulled away from him viciously. "I have to make sure everyone's ready for tomorrow."

"Don't," he grasped her shoulders, stalling her. "Don't do that. Everyone will be ready to go whenever you tell them. You have everything in hand. There's nothing left for you to do right now."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to Dr Dillamond about something."

"No, you don't. You made that up as an excuse not to talk to me."

How did he always know? She could never hide anything from him anymore. She used to be able to hide things from him. She'd made sure she had the upper hand back when they first met. What had changed?

"Fae," his eyes beseeched her. "It's okay. I'd just rather you didn't lie to yourself. It isn't helpful."

"I don't love him. I'll never love him again."

Fiyero sighed, but only squeezed her hand.

She pulled it away. "Stop trying to make me some evil witch who doesn't know injustice when she sees it. I see what my father has done. I don't want anything more to do with him."

"Okay."

"Don't say 'okay.'"

"Why not?"

"Because it just means you don't believe me."

Fiyero leaned in and kissed her, and Elphaba's lips quivered in response.

"You're not evil," he said. "I know it, and everyone here knows it."

He kissed her again, and she wanted to push him away and draw him closer at the same time. Guilt twisted her stomach. Why did she have to want him so badly?

"For the record," he mumbled against her lips. "You look beautiful without those glasses."

Pleasure rippled through her, but beneath it there was a prick of offense. "And with the glasses?" She couldn't believe she'd asked.

"You're beautiful either way, but you can't deny, you don't need them. Do you wish you'd kept them?"

Elphaba didn't feel like answering. But he was waiting. "Father always thought I needed them."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. He wanted me to wear them, so I did."

"And you wanted to please him."

"I guess."

A smile. "It's alright to want to please your father, you know. I do."

"And I imagine your father thinks more of you than you give him credit for."

Fiyero looked far away. "Maybe. The point is, it's natural to want your parents to love you. You didn't deserve for him to treat you the way he did."

Elphaba bit her lip. She wasn't so sure about that, but perhaps she should let it slide.

Fiyero noticed her hesitation, of course. He sighed, seeming to come back to the present, and brushed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. "I love you."

At least she knew how to answer that. "I love you, too."

"Come," Fiyero said. "I have something for you."

Elphaba followed as he led her across the warehouse, pushing and shoving their way through the congestion. She marvelled at how the crowdedness of the place didn't seem abnormal anymore. It would have felt strange to be in an empty room. When she thought about it, the fact that Fiyero didn't mind telling her he loved her in the middle of this throng was telling. The Animals had taken the news of their new relationship status in their stride. There was something intimate about that sense of ease which Elphaba liked. She would miss this place.

"Here." They reached a row of chairs, one of which had Fiyero's coat hanging on the back. He reached into the wide pocket and pulled something out of it. Elphaba realised it was her green scarf – the one she'd found on her bed. He unwrapped it carefully, and within was nestled her green bottle. Elphaba suddenly felt clammy, but Fiyero smiled as he handed it to her. She received the bottle in her palm, and as she stared at it, Fiyero wound the scarf around her neck. Like he had at the market.

"Did you buy this?" Her throat was dry.

"Of course," he said slowly. "How did you suppose it ended up on your bed?"

"I don't know. I wondered, but–"

Fiyero rolled his eyes.

"The bottle?" Elphaba prompted, rolling it in her palm.

"Ah," he looked sheepish. "I found it under your pillow. Sorry. I hope you don't mind."

"Why were you looking under my pillow?"

"Never mind that."

Elphaba hid a smile. The smile slipped off her face as quickly as it had come, however. "Thank you," she forced herself to say. "For the scarf, I mean. And… my bottle."

"I thought you might appreciate something of your own to have with you. Admittedly, the bottle was the only possession of yours I could find, other than your books."

"You thought I wouldn't want my books?"

"No," Fiyero grinned. "I brought you one of those too." He produced a volume from underneath the chair. "See? I'm not completely useless."

Her tension almost vanished. Almost.

"Will that be enough?" he teased.

She chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure it will be." She tightened and loosened her fingers around the bottle. "But you know, you underestimate my attachment to worldly possessions. I expected at least seven ball gowns and a fountain pen."

"I would like to see you in a ball gown."

"I pray you never will."

Silence.

"Are you alright?" Fiyero's brows furrowed.

"Oh, yes." Elphaba sounded a little faint, even to herself. "I just… this was my mother's bottle."

Fiyero looked surprised. "Was it?"

"Mhm."

"Where did it come from? It seems unusual."

She looked down. "It– it came…" her chest heaved.

His hand landed on her arm. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I want to." Elphaba didn't want to tell him, actually. The thought of telling him her very worst secret caused bile to swim in her mouth. He had only brought her the bottle as an innocent token – he couldn't know what it represented to her. A tiny part of her was comforted by having it; it was the last thing she owned from Mama. But he didn't know that she kept the bottle more to punish than comfort herself. Would he leave if she told him? Did she want him to? Was that why she was telling him?

"It was a gift for my mother. From, um, our stable hand."

Fiyero was watching her closely. "Your stable hand?"

Elphaba was struggling to hold onto the bottle, her hands were so damp. "He was my mother's friend. The bottle came from him. Mama gave it to Mareem, and Mareem gave it to me after she died." She was starting to feel dizzy. An invisible band constricted her chest. "He found the bottle in a second-hand shop. He gave it to my mother. And then he… said not to tell my father. Mama gave it to me. I don't know why. Mareem said it was because I'm special. But I'm not special. And I said I wouldn't. Tell, I mean. Only, I did. Father wanted to know where it was from. I thought he wouldn't mind. But I heard Father shouting at him. He said he never touched Mama, but Father didn't believe him." The bottle slipped from her fingers onto the hard floor, and the noise it made startled her. Her head felt light. "Father was so angry. He said the stable hand had broken the law. I didn't understand. But it's true. Because Father's the Governor, and Mama was his wife, and it's illegal to touch–"

Fiyero was compelling her to sit down, and she couldn't help but obey. Her legs were like jelly.

"It's okay, Fae."

"They hanged him." There. She'd said it – the one thing she'd been terrified to say, all these years – promptly bursting into tears. Fiyero sat down on the seat next to her. Some of the Animals were looking now. They hadn't been paying attention before, but she was drawing more and more attention. "Father made me watch." The images flashed across her eyes, and she fisted her hands against them, as if it would blind her. She wished she were blind. But she wasn't. She saw his death just as vividly as she had then.

"How old were you?"

"Four."

Fiyero expelled a long breath, bowing his head, and Elphaba expected him to go. Of course he would. That's why she said it, wasn't it? To finally convince him he was better off with Nessa. Or was it, really? She didn't even know anymore. It was so hard to disentangle one motivation, one feeling, one thought from another. She hated it. At home, she'd known where she stood. Now, she never did.

"It was my fault," she said.

"It wasn't. You were a child. How could you know what would happen if you told your father?"

"But I wasn't supposed to tell."

"And I'm amazed anyone expected a child to keep that kind of secret."

Elphaba twisted her hands in her skirts. Of course Fiyero would say that. He only saw her in the most glowing terms. Father never saw her that way. Neither did Nessa. She was comfortable that way. She always knew what she had to do to be loved. But now, she didn't even know that.

Fiyero pulled her close, and she involuntarily wound her arms around his waist. "It wasn't your fault. Oz, Elphaba." His voice was starting to shake. "You were four!"

"Doesn't matter." Her voice was muffled.

"It does matter. No child should ever have to see such a wicked thing."

Elphaba flinched hard at his choice of word.

Fiyero felt it. "Yes. That was the wicked thing. Not you. To hang a person who may or may not have known the Governor's wife, and then bring a child along to see it? It's despicable," he spat.

Elphaba was silent a long moment. "I believe him," she said into Fiyero's shirt. "I don't think he touched Mama."

"Then will you believe me when I say that none of it had anything to do with you?"

Elphaba grunted.

"Then just promise me one thing," he said into her hair. "Stay here. Lead the Animals. They look to you, you know. And let us work through everything with you. I don't expect you to believe me right away, but I promise, it wasn't your fault."

Elphaba didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. She clung to him for a long time, silently. Some of the Animals looked as though they were pondering whether to come over and see if she was alright. None of them did, though. Not for the first time, Elphaba felt herself being pulled in two separate directions. Part of her wanted nothing more than for the Animals to surround her, and never to leave this warehouse again. The other half… why was she thinking about Nessa at a time like this?

But the Animals turned away. Perhaps they wanted to give her space. Maybe she should appreciate that. Fiyero's arms loosened after some minutes, and she felt he would pull away. A strange sort of hollow panic seized her when he did, and she held him tighter, to stop him. But then someone was nudging her, and she let go abruptly. It was Jozen, and he was frowning.

"Miss Elphaba," he said. "I have to tell you something."

Elphaba forced herself to turn towards him, wiping away the evidence of her tears. Jozen was now watching her closely, his frown deepening, though he said nothing more. But Elphaba knew he had something to say; he wouldn't have said anything at all if it wasn't important. Jozen was far too diffident for that.

So, she turned to him. "What is it, Jozen?"

"Girne told you about the building, didn't he? The one where we saw a bunch of Tigers working?"

She was definitely listening now. "Yes. He mentioned it."

"It's just, did you ever find out where it was?"

"No," Elphaba said. "The most we know about it is that it exists, and it's where Koa and Lylak came from. At least, we're assuming so at this point. They couldn't really tell us any more themselves." Most of the boys had been shielded from this topic as much as possible. With Jozen, however, Elphaba felt one could have a little more conversation.

"Can you tell us any more about it?" said Fiyero.

Jozen was looking at the ground, shuffling his foot. "Yeah, I think so. I thought Girne told you, but I guess he didn't."

"What do you know?"

A brief glance at Elphaba's face, then down again. "Not much. It's a museum, right?"

Elphaba started. "It is?"

Jozen looked up fully now, eyes flicking between them. "Yeah. I thought you knew."

"No, we didn't." Elphaba's heart was starting to race.

"Oh." He shuffled some more. "Well, someone told me it was. Girne thought it was a castle. S'ppose I understand why he thought that. It has turrets and everything."

"Do you know where it is?" She waited with bated breath.

"Not exactly. I don't really remember. But I remember it was quite close to the old Governor's mansion. I know 'cause we hid there one night, and we saw the museum the next day."

Elphaba felt as if she'd been struck by lightning. "Fiyero!" she gasped.

Fiyero's eyes seemed to be burning too. "Do you know where that is, Fae?"

"Yes! It's south-east from here, almost at the Quoxian border. The Thropps lived there for generations, before Colwen Grounds was built." It was perfect. They could go there on their way to Quox. A thought occurred to her, however, and her excitement dulled. "But it's only one location. Surely there are Animals being put to work everywhere."

"We can't do anything about that right now. We don't know where they all are. But we do know where this one camp is, and there's a good chance we may find the rest of Khanija's family there."

"Yes. You're right." She laughed. Just then, she realised that Jozen seemed to have disappeared. "Where did he go? Yero, did you see Jozen leave?"

"No." Fiyero's head whipped around. Then he laughed. "I suppose that was all he wanted to say. He's fulfilled his mission." He shook his head.

"Okay." Elphaba felt a newfound confidence rush through her, and she actually smiled. Really, truly smiled. "So, we know what to do!"

Fiyero snickered. "You know what to do, by the sound of things. Would you care to share it with me?"

"We're to leave tomorrow anyway. So, listen. You, I, Khanija and Cowper can go back to the Tower, then on to the museum from there."

"And then we'll join the rest of the Animals."

"Yes. If we can just remain unseen for long enough to do that, we should be able to make it over the border in a couple of days."

Fiyero beamed and hugged her. "You're doing such a good job, Fae." He stood back, looking serious. "And I'll do everything I possibly can to help get everyone safely to Quox."

Elphaba felt a rush of pride, both for Fiyero and herself. "I can do this," she said, a little breathless.

Fiyero squeezed her hands. "I know you can."

…

That night, Elphaba lay awake. In her mind, she ran over everything that had to go right tomorrow for them to escape. She rolled over on her makeshift straw-bed. The bed was scratchy. On any other night, it would have been uncomfortable. Tonight, however, was a different story. Would she ever sleep in safety in a straw-bed again?

She must have dropped off at some point, though she couldn't say when. The next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake.

"Miss Elphaba." Dr Dillamond's voice. "It's time."

So tired. She must have lain awake for hours. Now she had no choice but to get up. She peeled open an eye. It was still dark. With a groan, she forced herself up. I can sleep when I'm dead, she thought with a dull chuckle. The Goat eyed her curiously.

A yawn. "Thank you. You can go back to sleep, if you like, Doctor. Get a few more hours before you have to leave."

"Nonsense. If you're up, then I'm helping you."

Elphaba cracked a smile. There was a crack in her chest at the same time – a slightly painful one. What had she done to deserve such friends?

Very soon, the first group were bundled up and ready to go. Elphaba took in the wide-eyed, sunken expressions all around. She bit her lip. "Do you understand what you have to do?"

"Yes, Miss Elphaba," said a male Zebra. "We head for the Gillikin border, then travel around Munchkinland past the Glikkus."

"And stick together at all costs, until you make it to Quox," Elphaba added, her heart fluttering. This group had the longest journey, hence why they were leaving first. It wouldn't give them much of an advantage, but it couldn't be helped. This group was the hardiest. They had no young among them, and no one requiring extra support. Still, Elphaba felt terrible. Who did she think she was, asking them to go on such a long journey, travelling in the opposite direction of their destination?

Perhaps the Zebra sensed her guilt, nodding in respect. "Don't be anxious about us. We'll make it."

Elphaba took a deep, shuddering breath. "Thank you. Take care."

They left. Half an hour later, she saw off the second group. Then the third, and the fourth.

With the fifth group on their way, Mareem came up behind her. "Listen, lass." She smiled wearily. "There might not be much ye can do with this, but I can't help thinkin' there will be." In her hands was an object. Elphaba struggled to make out what it was. Dawn was on the way, but it was still dark, and Mareem's face was half-shrouded in a curtain of black.

"What is it?" she was at last forced to ask.

In answer, Mareem placed the object in her hands, cupping them for a moment. "It's a snow globe. It belonged t' one of the young Bears, but the little 'un insisted he wanted ye to have it."

"Me? Well, thank you."

Mareem chuckled. "I think he wanted ye to perform magic on it."

"How? What good would that do?"

"Look into that globe, my sweet. Wouldn't it make a fine looking-glass?"

"A looking-glass? I don't–" But suddenly, she understood. "I could use this to watch over the Animals! While everyone's on their journey. If I just…"

She closed her eyes, concentrating. She could do this. She had just the spell for it. It had been one of those spells that when she found it had intrigued her, even if it seemed useless at the time. But now, she knew she had been right to memorise it. Trying the words out on her tongue, she slowly articulated the spell. The glass clouded over as though she were breathing on it, and then cleared, producing a picture of the first group. They were making good headway, it looked like. She couldn't quite make out their surroundings to work out where they were, but they were still together. That was the main thing.

Mareem placed her hand on her young friend's shoulder. "D' ye think that'll be what ye need?"

"It's exactly what I need!" Elphaba was beginning to feel breathless. She would have to learn how to interpret their location in case they ran into trouble. But this was the best thing she had ever received.

Elphaba, Fiyero, Khanija and Cowper formed the last group to leave. The sun was just beginning to rise. Elphaba took one last, long look at the old warehouse. Her scarf was around her neck. Her bottle, the book Fiyero brought her and the snow globe were tucked safely in a satchel looped across her shoulder. Her old frock was in there too, which she had switched for her battle dress.

"So," Khanija said, her fur standing on edge. "We're going to the Tower first?"

Elphaba sighed. Khanija had been like this ever since they told her what Jozen had said. "Yes. But I promise, we'll go straight to the museum from there. The Tower is closer, and I want another look before we leave. It's the only way to find out more about what happened there."

"Do you think your father had something to do with it?"

"I'm certain he did. But we need to find out how he did it. It's the only way I can protect you."

"I know. I'm not ungrateful, Miss Elphaba, I promise."

Elphaba stopped. "And I promise you that we'll get to the museum as soon as possible. I won't let you down."

Khanija smiled weakly. "I know you won't, Miss Elphaba. Just remember not to try and do everything yourself."

Elphaba didn't know what to say to that statement, so she said nothing.

Some time elapsed and Elphaba thought Khanija's last remark quite forgotten by everyone but was forced to think otherwise when Cowper's smooth voice interrupted the peace. "Mistress Elphaba thinks she has to do everything for you to love her."

Both Khanija and Fiyero halted.

"She what?" said Khanija.

Elphaba ignored them, marching forwards. "You know, I have high hopes of reaching the Tower by sundown," she said, looking anywhere but at them.

She could almost feel Cowper rolling his eyes. "Yes, Mistress."

As it turned out, they made it to the Tower well before sundown. It only took an hour, even with the endless remarks of the company terrorising Elphaba's feeble sense of pride. On their approach, Elphaba took a moment to catch her breath, then pulled out the snow globe, muttering beneath her breath. An image arose within its glass. Mareem's group were fine. So were Dr Dillamond's.

"Fae," Fiyero's voice brought her to. "Are you coming?"

They were all staring at her. "Yes," she mumbled, stuffing the globe back in her satchel and hastily following.

The Tower was like she remembered – almost exactly how it looked in her dreams that had been replaying the incident like a broken record. Only, this time, there was no smoke. There was no pungent smell, no screaming, no blind confusion. It was silent, burned to the ground with the stillness of burial. Perhaps this was more terrible than the scene of the explosion. This – this was simply death.

"It's so dead," said Fiyero, echoing her thoughts. "There's nothing left. How do we know we'll find anything here?"

"We must," Elphaba said. "That is, I'm hoping we'll find something. Anything."

"What sort of things do you want us to look for, Mistress Elphaba?"

"Just anything."

Cowper watched her. Then he padded off ahead of them. "I'll look amongst the rubble. I'm small enough."

"Well then, how about if I look around the other side of the Tower?" said Khanija.

"That sounds good," Fiyero agreed. "Fae, why don't we stay around this side?"

They spent an hour searching. No one spoke the whole time. Maybe they were afraid to. Or maybe there was just nothing to say. Elphaba heaved a lump of charred stone to the side, opening the way to another part of the area they hadn't searched yet. "Maybe it's here, Yero. There must be something."

"If there's something to find, we'll find it, Fae."

"And if we don't?"

"Then we'll go to the museum. Nothing is resting on us finding out what happened here. Let's keep looking another hour. Then we'll leave."

"What do you mean, nothing is resting on it? I have to protect you! How can I do that if I don't know what happened?"

Fiyero's gaze bore into her meaningfully. "Was Cowper right? About you doing this so we'll love you?"

Elphaba looked away, quickly. "No, of course not." She prayed he would drop it if she ignored him. He said nothing more, to her relief.

Some time later, the sun was rising in the sky. It was just reaching mid-morning, but already the sweat was running down Elphaba's face. Her bones ached, and she was so, so tired. Spotting a place in the grass unmarred by soot or debris, she flopped down, breathing heavily and dragging her arm across her forehead.

Fiyero sat down next to her. "Five minutes," he said simply.

"Five minutes," she agreed, hanging her head. What a waste of time this had been. She'd achieved nothing. Why did she ever think she would? Khanija must have been so worried about her family. They should have just continued in the direction of the museum, like she wanted. "Maybe we should-"

"Mistress Elphaba!"

Elphaba's head popped up. Cowper's voice was loud and sounded strained. She stood and ran towards where she'd heard him, glimpsing his black fur underneath a pile of bricks.

Cowper turned his eyes on her, luminous in the dark cavity he'd managed to worm his way into, and wider than she'd ever seen them. "I found something! What do you think it is?"

Hurriedly, she and Fiyero began lobbing the bricks down. Khanija was calling and running towards them. When she reached them, she hastily removed more bricks with her mouth.

Elphaba was breathing heavily. She saw the object Cowper had found and dropped the brick in her hands.

"Don't touch it," said Fiyero. He crouched down in front of Elphaba and skilfully maneuvered the remaining bricks to see it more clearly. He didn't stop until he'd removed everything from its vicinity, leaving it in the centre like a meteorite nestled in a crater.

It was a black, spider-like contraption. It looked frazzled, as if struck by lightning, with frightened wires sticking out of it in all directions. Its body was charred.

Fiyero suddenly looked very serious. "Get back," he said. When no one bore him any mind, he spoke louder, making eye contact with everyone. "Get back! It looks harmless, but we don't know that for sure."

"What is it, Yero?"

Fiyero shoved everyone back with his arms extended, until they were several metres away from the strange object. "Don't come any closer." His teeth were bared.

"What is it?" Elphaba pushed.

"My father has dealt with things like this before. I think it's a bomb."

Khanija's eyes widened, and she scurried back several more paces like a Cub. Cowper also catapulted back as if thrown, but not as far as Khanija, landing on his feet. His paws remained fixed on the ground while his body rocked back and forth in indecision, shuddering as if holding a live current.

Elphaba couldn't move. "A bomb? You mean… my father?"

"It could have been." Fiyero grabbed her hand and tugged her away. She clung to his sleeve in disbelief.

Khanija gaped. "But how would a bomb ever have been planted here? How would we not have seen anyone smuggle it in?"

"That doesn't matter now," said Fiyero. "We must check that it's fully gone off."

"Fully–"

"Shh, Fae."

The way he said it irked her, and for the first time, she relaxed enough to cross her arms.

Cowper approached the bomb, placing one paw in front of the other as if testing ice. "Let me look?" He glanced up at Elphaba.

She gulped but nodded.

Cowper moved right up the exploded spider. He prodded its body, and Elphaba sucked in a breath.

"Don't do that, Cowper!"

"I'm fine Mistress Elphaba." His head dipped, and he examined it carefully. "It isn't dangerous," he said at last. "It did its job."

"What does this mean?" Khanija's voice quivered.

"It means," Cowper looked at her, "that the explosion was deliberate. But this doesn't tell us who did it."

"What do you mean? We know who did it! It was my father! It had to be!"

"Shh, Fae."

"Will you stop saying that?"

"Sorry," Fiyero looked sheepish. "But Cowper's right. We don't know it was your father."

A huff. "Of course we do. Haven't we had this conversation?"

Fiyero raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes. And didn't Koa also say that he wasn't the only one responsible for all of this?"

Elphaba bit her lip. "Yes, but… alright, fine. But I still think it was Governor Thropp who did it."

Fiyero dropped a kiss on top of her head. "You're still angry with him. Don't worry, we'll find out soon."

"We'd better." Khanija's eyes filled with tears. "Miss Elphaba isn't the only one who's angry anymore."