Chapter Eighteen: Decisions and Fate
She kept vigil at Glinda's bedside through the rest of the afternoon. The boys finally convinced her it would be best for them all if they left for dinner and let Glinda sleep, if only because they knew Elphaba wouldn't leave unless they dragged her out of there.
The three of them didn't talk until they were a ways off campus, and Elphaba didn't even know where they were heading until they were standing in front of the same tavern they had visited the first time they met. She realized in her fog of worry that it was the first time she'd been alone with the boys, ever, without Glinda there.
Thinking of Glinda caused an ache in her chest. She was responsible for Glinda lying in that bed, shivering with no memories. She was responsible for Glinda going to visit Morrible.
Hell and Oz, maybe she should have just let her kiss her.
"Elphaba," Crope said gently, a hand on her arm. "There's nothing you can do right now. Stop thinking about it."
She bit back a sudden onslaught of tears and nodded. The boys flanked her as they walked into the dimly lit pub.
Immediately, the atmosphere was different. No longer were the anti-Wizard sentiments posted on the walls, no longer were there any Animals in view. Instead there was just the bar owner, slumped over on the bar, looking like he was asleep. A guard in the traditional Emerald City uniform stood in the corner, blending into the shadows so Elphaba had to look twice to see him.
They headed back to that same table in the back, the three of them, feeling the absence of their other companions all the more intensely.
"When does Tibbett return?" Fiyero asked as they sat down. "Surely he must have written you."
The tips of Crope's ears turned scarlet. "He doesn't know if he'll be able to return," he said, and they all leaned in closer. "The Banns are creeping closer to the city now; they may not be letting people out soon."
"You're kidding," Fiyero whispered, and Elphaba bit her lip.
"It's not just Animals, either," Crope continued. "It's-they're starting to enforce them on anyone who doesn't belong, anyone of lower class status. Munchkins," he added, and his eyes met Elphaba's.
"Boq," she said softly.
"Actually I was thinking about you," Crope said. "You're a Munchkinlander."
Elphaba shook her head. "I'm next in line to be the Eminent, it's unlikely that will affect me. As far as family, I don't think Father will send Nessa to Shiz now, not when everything is so fragile. But Boq... Oz, what if they don't let him back for the semester?"
"I'm sure it won't go that far," Crope said, but his tone was uncertain. Fiyero stared down into his flask.
"I should have gone home," he said quietly. "I should be with my people."
"Will they let you travel?" Elphaba asked, not as well-versed on Vinkan politics as she perhaps hoped to be.
"I'm royal, so yes," Fiyero said, but his tone was tinged with disgust. "I can afford to. My people can't, and it's such an imbalance."
"It was for Dillamond, too," Elphaba said. "Not that it's the same."
"No," Fiyero said quietly, and the three of them stared down into their drinks.
"Tibbett will be fine," Elphaba said after a moment, her hand coming to rest gently on Crope's. "His father works for the palace, doesn't he?"
Crope nodded. "As a security adviser. He's been trying to get me information, but they're starting to read all mail coming out from the palace now, too."
Elphaba shook her head. "Oz." She took a sip of her drink, wished it was stronger. "What… what about Glinda?" It was the first time she'd said her name since they'd left her back in Crope's dorm. "Morrible must have put something powerful on her, something so she can't—I don't know what to do," she finished, her voice so low the boys could barely hear her.
"You can't blame yourself," Crope said, and she shot him a look.
"Why, when you were so keen to?"
"I'm trying to help."
"I don't need either of you to help," she snapped, and Fiyero placed a hand on her arm. She stiffened.
"What happened to Glinda is my fault," Elphaba said slowly. "So I'm the one who needs to fix it. I need to find Dillamond's research."
"And what will you do after that?" Crope challenged. "What do you think you're going to do with that research, alone?"
"I'm going to replicate it."
"You don't know if you can do that."
"I can," she said, her eyes flashing. "I have to."
"And then what? You'll march into the Wizard's palace and demand an audience, show him the research, and all of this will magically stop? The Banns? Animals will suddenly be afforded a place?" Crope leaned towards her. "What are you trying to do, Elphaba?"
"I'm trying to take down the Wizard," she hissed, and it was like the bar grew even quieter. Elphaba saw Crope's eyes dart towards the Guard, but he made no move towards them.
"Then you'll need help."
"I don't want either of you involved," Elphaba said. "Besides. You need to stay here, finish your studies, be where it's safe—I don't want—I don't want something to happen to you."
Like Glinda, she thought, and it was like the boys sensed that.
"Glinda got hurt because she wanted to help and you wouldn't let her," Crope said. "What do you think will happen if you try to stop me and Fiyero the same way?"
Fiyero looked at him. "Crope…"
"You don't get to shut us out," Crope said. "Not anymore."
"Watch me," Elphaba snapped, and stood up. "I'm going home. I'm going back to check—I'm going home."
"You shouldn't walk alone," Fiyero said, but Elphaba was gone by the time the last words left his mouth.
Dillamond's voice echoed in her head as she walked.
You're going to need friends. You can't do this alone.
Damn him, what had he known? She had to do this alone. She couldn't risk any of them getting hurt.
Her thoughts turned again to Glinda, lying in Crope's bed, small and fragile because Elphaba hadn't let her help, because Elphaba had pushed her.
It was Elphaba's fault. It was all her fault.
She was the one who had to fix it, friends and feelings be damned. She would cross Morrible if she had to.
She would kill if she had to, she suddenly knew, and the thought made her shiver. So focused was she in her thoughts she hardly noticed the cat until it was too late. Her boot caught on something and she pitched forward, righting herself just in time, and turning.
It was a Cat, glowering at her.
"Sorry," Elphaba apologized. "I didn't see you."
"No one ever does," the Cat said. "Though only one before you has apologized."
"I'm sorry again," Elphaba said, "that no one's showed you the courtesy."
From the alley there was the faint sound of mewing, and the Cat's head started towards it.
"Kittens?"
"Only two," the Cat said, her tone filled with despair. "The rest-well. Oz isn't safe these days."
"May I help?" Elphaba asked. But the Cat just turned and walked back to the alley, her tail flicking as if she didn't care if Elphaba followed or not.
She shouldn't be doing this. She should be hurrying back to Shiz, back to Glinda, or at least back to the tavern with the boys. But something was telling her to follow the Cat, at least for the moment.
Elphaba gathered her skirt and set off down the alley until she was at a brick wall. There was a small overturned milk crate propped up next to a trash bin, and she bent down to look inside.
The Cat was curled up, Kittens nursing. One of them was small and gray, but the other would have been a brilliant white if not for the dirt. It looked up at Elphaba with bright blue eyes.
"Hi," she whispered, and looked at the Cat. "They're beautiful."
"Thank you," the Cat said.
"What did you need to see me for?" Elphaba said, and the Cat looked up at her, its gaze unblinking.
"We've heard tell of you," the Cat said. "Some of Dillamond's old colleagues. Birds and others."
"Well, there are no other green people around as far as I know," Elphaba said, scowling.
"Not that. He spoke of your brilliance. Of your dedication, your passion." The Cat gave a sound almost like a sigh. "Few of us knew what Dillamond was truly working on before he was killed. But if it's what we suspected, then you're the only one who can carry it on."
"Why me?"
"I don't know," the Cat said. "But we've been told things. Whispers. Oz is growing closer to turmoil, and someone needs to stop it."
She got up, rubbed herself against Elphaba's ankles. "You have friends in Oz, Elphaba Thropp," she said. "If you just knew. We need you to do this."
And with words like that, what choice did she have?
Elphaba thought, suddenly, of the meeting in the woods, a memory she'd only had hazy recollection of until that moment. She remembered the old woman, the burning desire she'd filled her with to take down the Wizard.
And she thought again of Glinda lying small in her bed.
She had to do something. They were right. She couldn't wait around anymore, not at school, not under Morrible's thumb. She had to leave, to take down the Wizard, and if she had to do it herself—she would.
Glinda slept fitfully. Her head was filled with images, snatches of conversation and flashes of light, things she couldn't quite place.
Her body was burning. Or it felt like it was, magic a tight grip on her veins so if she tried to even remember she couldn't.
Fight back, someone said, and it was Elphaba's voice in her head. You're stronger than this—resist it.
But why, when sleep was so comforting, and when trying to remember was so painful?
She woke with a gasp, shivering in a room she didn't recognize, blankets tangled around her ankles.
What had happened? Where was she? Her mind searched frantically for any recollection but there was nothing but gray fog and a sharp pain behind her eyes if she dared even try.
Gingerly she pushed herself out of bed, glancing around. The room was almost as bare as Elphaba's own side, though the desk was piled high with textbooks. She went to the closet and opened it, revealing men's clothes for a frame almost as small as her. Behind the typical clothes were flashier pieces, a feather boa, lace underthings.
Crope and Tibbett. Of course.
Glinda shook her head, wondering how she'd ended up in Crope's room, but that dull pain came back when she thought of it. Her mouth was dry, and she felt lightheaded.
She headed to the bathroom the boys shared with the adjacent dorm and cupped water into her hands, drinking until she felt slightly better.
Where was Crope? And Fiyero? And—
Her chest hurt at the thought of Elphaba. The last thing she remembered was that overwhelming need to help, to prove herself, the anger and hurt she'd felt at Elphaba pushing her away.
She looked down. She wasn't wearing shoes, and the tile of the bathroom was cool against her feet.
Why couldn't she remember?
She sighed and sat back down on the bed, noticing the bottoms of her feet were dirty.
Okay. So I was outside. What else?
Her hands shook, and her head hurt, but she forced herself to think through it. I was outside. I was outside. I was-
But her brain wouldn't let her go any further than that. She groaned in frustration and flopped back down on the bed.
When Elphaba returned, hours later, Glinda was the way she'd left her, curled up on her side asleep, no closer to having remembered at all.
