Chatper 8: Salvum Fac Populum Tuum

Despite the heaviness of the wooden door, it rattled with the effort of the fist on the other side of it.

"GLINDA!"

Glinda froze. She felt as if the air in the room had been sucked out and replaced with water. Pressure squeezed her lungs and clamped onto either side of her head. She could feel the motion of water, only the motion was racing and rolling underneath her skin. She opened her mouth to say something, but choked, gasping.

"GLINDA!"

Glinda was standing upright in her room but she felt like she was drowning.

"Glinda, open this door!"

"Glinda," interjected Azra, seeing the blonde overwhelmed with her own fear and magic. "Come back to us. We need you to help us hide him!"

The door rattled even harder, threatening to rip off of its hinges. The Wizard sounded as if he was going to break it down. Fiyero's manly façade broke, a wimper of fear leaving his throat.

"Glinda, please…"

The sound of the injured man snapped the blonde back into reality. She turned to face her maids.

"Under the bed," she hissed, gesturing wildly. "If he lays flat he'll fit."

With a silent nod, the women reached under and around Fiyero, lifting the soldier into the air. With as much gentleness as they could muster with holding his weight, they lay the soldier onto the ground. Letting out a sharp exhale from the pain of setting weight onto his wound, Fiyero pushed himself underneath the wooden frame of the bed, covering himself in shadow. The maids then scattered across the room, grabbing clothes to hang, books to put away, and shelves to dust. Glinda gulped, trying to bottle up the waves that pushed and pulled inside her chest, and called out.

"Be right there!"

Glinda removed the amulet from around her neck and shoved it into the pocket of her robe. She took a few tentative steps, took another deep breath, and clicked the lock. Before her hand could move from the lock to the handle, the door flew open with such a flurry that it almost knocked the blonde to floor. She gasped, jumping backwards. The Wizard thundered into her room, his head flinging from side to side.

"Father!" growled Glinda indignantly. "You almost hit me with the door! I was changing into my nightclothes. I couldn't come to the door indecent!"

She crossed her arms and scowled. The maids, having jumped themselves at the sound of the door, went back to busying themselves and avoiding their boss's fercorious and angry stare.

"Someone is here," said the Wizard through gritted teeth.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously. I asked Laverne, Azra, and Victoria to attend to me together. I was lonely." She shot daggers at her father. "You've been gone so long and I've had no company whatsoever."

Normally, Glinda's response would have earned a hug and kind, soothing words in return. But this time, the Wizard was preoccupied. He started opening the doors to Glinda's closets and drawers, pacing about like a horse at the races, almost shoving Laverne into the wall when he stormed out to check the balcony. The old woman raised one stoic finger behind the Wizard's back.

"Father, honestly, what's got into you?" The blonde followed her father onto the balcony. "You've been gone for so long and then come back unannounced, slamming on my door and giving me a heart attack. What in the—"

The Wizard suddenly stopped next to his daughter and whirled around, catching her tiny wrist in his burly hands. Glinda's breath caught in her throat.

"Father, what-"

"Are you saying that your maids are the only people in this room with you?" Glinda had never heard her father's voice sound this way before. It was so dark, and so…evil. It was as if the kind, warm man that had raised her was gone, replaced by this demonic figure. His grip increased around her wrist, causing her to grunt in pain.

"Your Ozness!" squeaked Victoria. "You're hurting her!"

"Shut up, you!" the Wizard spat, spit flying from him mouth, his head whipping around to Victoria's only for a second before it returned to face his adopted child. "Mind your place!"

Victoria closed her mouth and averted her eyes, making herself very small.

"Glinda, tell Daddy the truth. Who else is here?"

Glinda's lip quivered. The felt the water rising in her lung again, forgetting for a moment how to breathe.

""Answer me, Glinda." His voice was now a whisper. "Where is he?"

Underneath the bed, Fiyero pressed both hands to mouth, trying to silence even his softest breaths.

The ocean pulled back from her lungs, ebbing like the tide. It rose inside her, pulling deeper and deeper into herself, into the depths of her magic. The tide rose, and then the wave crashed, her magic as strong and as powerful as the sea. Her whimpering stopped, and her sapphire eyes, a reflection of the deepest water, met her father's gaze with the same intensity.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." She flung her arm down with a swift motion, breaking the Wizard's grip on her wrist. "In fact, this entire exchanged has completely exhausted me. My maids will finish up, and then I am off to bed. So father," Glinda walked toward the door and gestured towards it, "I believe it is time for you to go."

The Wizard knew something was off. Something about the situation, something about the room and the women and his daughter was wrong. But the way her eyes darkened and flashed with anger, the way she seemed to stand so tall at her tiny size, caused him to lose his grip. He exhaled, more of a snarl than an exhale, and stormed towards the door. With his hand on the handle, his head tilted towards the bed, boring into the magenta sheets as if he could see right through them. His gaze was so intense that Fiyero, still lying in the shadows, could feel it. The Wizard huffed, muttered something that might have sounded like a "Goodnight".

But before the Wizard could depart from the room and leave its occupants in some sort of peace, a soldier burst into the room.

"Sir!" He huffed, his hands on his knees, panting from the fast and sharp ascent into Glinda's quarters. "Sir, we found it!"

"Are you serious right now!" yelled Glinda. "Why does every man in this castle think he can just burst into my quarters!"

The Wizard no longer held darkness in his face. It was suddenly lit up, as if a light had sparked from within. His expression turned into glee.

"You found it!" he almost squealed. He grabbed the soldier by the arms, forcibly straightening his posture. "You found the Court of Miracles!"

Glinda felt her blood turn to ice. She reached into the pocket of her robe, her thin, lithe fingers dancing over the amulet.

Oh no oh no they've found Elphaba oh no.

The soldier nodded frantically. "We found it, sir! The rumors are true. It is in fact where the gypsies have been hiding out. We believe that the witch is there with them."

The Wizard laughed, a sharp laugh that slashed the air and caused the occupants of the room to shiver. He raised his hands towards the sky.

"Thank the Unnamed God! We've finally found her!" He yanked the soldier into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Well done, Avaric. Well done! I knew you'd be a fantastic Captain!"

Fiyero cursed to himself, his betrayal pulsing as intensely as his wound.

Avaric, my friend, you have no idea what you've done.

Glinda barely had time to blink when she found herself replacing Avaric in her father's embrace. She did everything she could to hold in the need to shove him off of her. The Wizard held tightly for a few seconds and then pulled back, ruffling Glinda's hair.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to scare you earlier, but I heard the most awful rumor." The sing-song, sickening sweetness in his tone made Glinda want to gag. "I heard that the witch and a traitor were spotted coming into your room. I really didn't mean to scare you. I was so very worried that one of them had hurt you. But fear not, my love, for the gypsy lair has been found! We will end this reign of treachery sooner than I could have ever hoped. I am so sorry to be leaving you again, but hopefully I will be back tomorrow morning." He kissed the yellow curls on Glinda's head before strutting out of the door, his laugh echoing down the hall. Avaric followed him, but before he left, he faced Glinda, and she swore she saw him mouth the words, "I'm sorry" before following behind.

Despite their usual stoicness, despite their every want to help, the younger maids were too afraid to stay any longer. They gave Glinda looks of sympathy and hope, gently placed their hands upon her shoulder, and fled. For they were not royalty but merely servants, small pawns of very little worth in a much bigger game, little pieces that could be discarded with little if any penalty. The Wizard, consumed with the fire of revenge, would not hesitate to get them out of his way.

Laverne was the last to leave. Her age had hardened her over the years, the shell that had grown around her over her six-and-some decades only softening from the wide eyes and tiny hands of a blonde baby girl who now had the fate of the Emerald City in her hands. Laverne reached underneath her shirt, once white but now yellowed with aged, and pulled a chain from her chest. She lifted the chain above her head and placed it in Glinda's palm.

"This is a medal of St Aphrodisius," said the old woman. "He is a guide of those on a journey, particularly dangerous ones. He protects those that need to be protected as they travel. Look to him for guidance." A weathered hand caressed Glinda's porcelain cheek. A tear she didn't realized she was holding back fell, just barely touching the wrinkled fingers. "I know you are scared, Glinda. But that man and that green woman need you. Those people need you. All of the Emerald City needs you. It is time for you to finally be who you were truly meant to be. Let St. Aphrodisius aide your magic in your journey. I wish upon the moon and the stars for you, little one."

Glinda soon found herself standing in her room alone, one hand holding the medal, the other hand holding the amulet. Fiyero pulled himself from under the bed, although he did not manage to get himself up off of the floor.

Glinda felt the pulse of the waves again, this time extending out from her fingers onto the objects in her hands. She closed her eyes, bringing herself back to the cemetery, the air still and motionless as death. The mausoleum rose so high above her that it dwarfed her, a skyscraper compared to a mouse. This time, things had changed. The stone door to the gravesite was opened just a crack, but instead of choking darkness inside, a warm, white light seeped through the splintered cracks. She swore she heard music coming from within it…

Just as suddenly as she left, she was back. And Glinda now knew what she had to do.