Autumn came fast and early to Shiz. One day Glinda was in her thinnest dress with her hair pinned at the top of her head, and the next she was wearing her favorite cozy sweater and crunching through piles of leaves on the way to class.

It was strange, really. This time last year she had been mooning over Fiyero. Dillamond was still at the school. She and Elphaba weren't really hostile anymore, but they weren't friendly, either. They were just starting to get to know each other, figuring out how to live with each other. Now, a year later, Glinda was learning to live without her.

She made little adjustments in her daily life that kept her from cutting the boys off. After nearly failing her first life sciences exam, she took to doing homework with Boq. They would claim a corner of the café, or a table in the library, or if the weather was right, they'd stretch a blanket out near the lake and stay there until sunset. They never talked much, but Glinda found comfort in their quiet productivity.

Saturdays were spent with the entire group. They met around mid-morning with blankets and food and wandered off to find one of their many secluded spots, making sure to go far enough away that no one would bother them. Sometimes there was homework. Always there were stories and jokes. No one tried to make up for the fact that they were missing a friend. Glinda would sit against a tree and say the least out of all of them, but she smiled and laughed and sometimes when she closed her eyes, she looked perfectly content. They would stay together until the sun went down and when they went back at the end of the day, Crope and Tibbett would walk on either side of her, grabbing her hands and swinging them as high as they would go until she was giggling furiously and they nearly had to carry her through the campus.

Saturdays became her best days, but Sundays became her worst. She would sleep too late and eat too little. She always kept her history and sorcery homework for Sunday evenings, simply because she refused to do work for Nikidik or Morrible until she absolutely had to.

Nikidik had become unbearable, and she spent his class with her head down and her cheeks burning. It was all too easy to catch the history professorstriding through Shiz, whistling to himself. His grin always widened when he caught Glinda's eye, and more than once someone had to throw an arm around her shoulder and lead her away. To make matters worse, Pfannee seemed to feed off their professor's hostility. Glinda found herself skipping more and more often and copying notes from a simultaneously exasperated and sympathetic Boq.

When it came to her sorcery homework, Glinda was procrastinating out of both spite and fear. Morrible still hadn't given up on her studying sorcery, and Glinda was doing everything she could to convince the headmistress she wasn't worth the effort. Not that she really had to try—there were very few classes she made it through without messing something up. A year ago, Morrible would have been mocking her in front of everyone else. Now she simply looked on impassively. Or, even stranger, she didn't notice at all.

By the time the leaves had all decayed and the air was cold enough to consistently wear long sleeves, Glinda's magic had become a near constant worry. She began to spend much of the week dreading the time when she would have to do her homework. She avoided the headmistress at all costs, even ignoring her when she called her name after class.

That was how one Sunday afternoon found her pacing in the bathroom, pale and trembling and feeling very much like she was going to be sick. She didn't even know what the assignment was. Every time she tried to read her book, the words blurred and ran together and her head spun until the breath had left her lungs and she had to shove her face into a pillow to keep from screaming.

Being in the bathroom didn't help. The counter was unnervingly free of bottles of oil and she flinched every time she caught her reflection in the mirror. She didn't even stop to grab a pair of shoes. She just shoved her way through her door and kept going until Crage Hall was far behind her.

When she finally got enough of a hold on herself to slow down, she was breathing heavy and prickling with sweat. The concrete was cold beneath her bare feet and it took her a moment to realize where she was.

The water in the Suicide Canal was running uncharacteristically fast, and it seemed almost black in the shadows of the trees around it. Glinda wrapped her arms around herself and started across the bridge.

"What a pleasant surprise."

She couldn't help it. She froze when she heard Avaric's voice. By the time she gathered the courage to move they had surrounded her, trapping her against the railing.

Avaric had grown taller over the summer, and he towered over Glinda when he stepped closer. Pfannee, on the other hand, had grown harsher, and the look in her eyes held no mercy.

"What do you want." It came out as a whisper. Glinda looked down as the group around her laughed. Her classmates looked darker in the fading light. They formed a half circle around her, closing in when she tried to slip past them.

"We haven't seen you in Nikidik's class lately," said Pfannee. She stood at the railing next to Glinda and leaned her head on the blonde's shoulder. "We're just worried about you. That's all."

Glinda kept her eyes on her feet and said nothing. Her toes curled against the ground, and she swore she heard the water start to rush faster.

"So are we allowed to ask about the green bean?" one of the other students said. "I'm curious."

"Me too," another boy chimed in. "Where did she go?"

"Why did she even leave?"

"You know, I've been wondering about that," Pfannee said, leaning closer into the blonde. "Did you two break up? Was that it?"

Glinda started to shake. She could feel the temperature dropping around her. Her eyes stayed down as she struggled to breathe. Pfannee took a step back as the air started to ripple around them, but she said nothing, and no one else seemed to notice.

"Don't be cruel, Pfannee. Everyone knows the vegetable left because of Morrible." Avaric turned to grin at Glinda. "Of course, we all know what happened the last time Morrible kicked someone off campus. The old Goat ended up—"

There was a brief, intrusive image of Elphaba lying pale and motionless on the ground, and Glinda snapped. Blood pounded in her ears, deafening her, though she could still feel the scream tearing from her throat. The bridge shook violently, and wind and water rose to swirl around them. Glinda wasn't spared. The river slapped against her, throwing her down. For a moment there was nothing but water, freezing cold and pitch black. She choked and flailed, panic grabbing hold, but as soon as it had started, it was gone.

The others were scrambling off the bridge, screaming obscenities. Glinda slowly sat up, looking around herself. The water had fallen back into its place in the canal, and the wind had fallen still around her. There was a large, jagged crack in the bridge that hadn't been there before. Glinda stared at it. She didn't have the power to break wood and concrete. She couldn't have…

She knew she should move. She should pick herself up and get to somewhere safe, where she could change out of her soaked and freezing clothes. But instead she turned and crawled over to the edge of the bridge. She pressed herself into the rail, gripping the poles in her hands, and stared down into the water.

She didn't notice when her teeth started to chatter. She didn't notice when the sky turned black.

And she didn't notice the sorcery teacher watching her, even hours later when she finally climbed to her feet and stumbled home.

It started to get colder in the Emerald City. Elphaba realized that, had she been in a place with trees, they would have probably turned color by now.

She had taken to swiping newspapers from trash bins or the corners of market stalls. The headlines were mostly meaningless—some rich person got married, or a new shoe store had opened near the main square, or a powerful Gilikinese man was in town to meet with the Wizard. It was all happy and forced and it made Elphaba sick, but she wasn't reading for the headlines.

Most days there was nothing, but once in a while there would be a story of an arrest. Someone would be caught stealing bread or selling pinlobble leaves—always some minor offense that would be blown up and glorified. The Gale Force would be commended and those in the higher classes would speak approvingly of the justice that ran throughout their city.

There was never any talk of the Resistance—not even indirectly. The destroyed bakery was never discussed. Freed Animals, if they were mentioned at all, were written into a corner of single-line news stories as something like Wizard Reimburses Shopkeeper for Stolen Property.

She wondered how many people knew. She wondered how long these little acts of rebellion had been occurring right beneath their noses. She wondered if anyone suspected, but kept quiet because that's just what you seemed to do in this city.

Once in a while there would be an article about Shiz. If it didn't have Morrible's name in it, she would tear it from the paper and tuck it into her bag, and sometimes, if sleep didn't come easy that night, she would reach in and touch the little clippings, letting her mind wander north as her eyes slid shut.

There was a collection of markets in the shadier parts of the city—cleaner than the slums, yet somehow darker. Elphaba despised them and everyone who worked there, but it was one of the best ways to get information and cheap supplies, so she forced herself to learn her way around.

Her cloak was ragged and torn, and the hood was wearing thin from her constantly tugging it down over her face, and that's how she found herself venturing into one of the black markets early one morning.

Men with sleeked back hair smirked at her and more than once she turned just in time to catch someone reaching for her bag, but she kept her shoulders back and walked on. She looked through racks of cloaks or even just hoods, but they cost more than she was willing to pay and she didn't feel like haggling with the sellers.

The market was starting to wake up around her as the sun rose, and she didn't want to stay much longer. She was just about to turn and leave when something caught her eye. Something black, faded, and oddly pointed.

She stepped closer to the hat and ran her fingers along the brim. It was wide enough to cast a shadow over her face. The fabric was old but still thick and sturdy.

The stall owner saw her looking and scoffed. "You really interested in that old thing, lady?"

Elphaba met his gaze and raised an eyebrow, saying nothing. Her hood and scarf covered her face enough that the man noticed nothing but shadow, and maybe an odd tinge of green, but everything in this city glowed green.

"Whatever," he said, waving his hand. "Three gold pieces if you wanna buy."

For a brief moment, all she could see was the appalled look Glinda would be giving her at this moment. You finally buy clothes, she would say, And you choose this?!

Elphaba swallowed hard and handed over the money. She scooped up the hat and walked quickly away, twirling it in her hands so that the black would get rid of the blonde in her vision.

She was almost out of the market when something else caught her eye. She slowed her pace as she passed the stall, her eyes widening as she realized what she was looking at.

A cage, smaller than the hat she had just bought, sat on the corner of a table. Inside was a Rabbit—clearly a Rabbit, by the way it gazed sadly at her. Its head hung low and it didn't even have room to turn around.

Elphaba spared a glance at the owner of the stall—a sharp-faced Gilikinese woman—but she was standing ten feet away, talking to a customer.

"How did you get here?" Elphaba asked. She winced at how hoarse her voice was.

The Rabbit jerked back, but the cage prevented him from moving far. He stared up at her without responding. Elphaba glanced at the seller again before looking back at the Rabbit.

"I'll get you out of there," she whispered. "Is there a key?"

Eyes wide, the Rabbit tilted its head toward the door of the cage. "Just the latch."

Elphaba looked around once more. She leaned forward as if looking at something on the table, and smoothly slid the latch out of place. The Rabbit stayed frozen as the door swung open.

"I…I'm not sure I can…"

Elphaba lay her hand flat on the table, palm up. "I'll take you wherever you need. Come on."

There was one more moment of hesitation, and then the Rabbit hopped forward. She lifted him up and he settled into the crook of her elbow, nestling down until he was nearly out of sight. Elphaba spun around and walked quickly away, but not before swerving toward a food stand and scooping up a head of cabbage as she passed.

She kept walking until the market was far behind them. They eventually stopped in an empty alleyway back in the slums. Elphaba slid down against a wall and the Rabbit crawled from her arms to the ground beside her. She set the cabbage next to him and rubbed her eyes, sighing.

"…Thank you."

She looked down at the Rabbit, who was tearing a chunk off the cabbage.

"How'd you get in there, anyway?"

"There was a trap set up near my home. My siblings tried to get me out, but there wasn't anything they could do, and we couldn't get help in time." The Rabbit shrugged. "It's just what happens these days, I suppose."

Elphaba felt sick. "It's not right."

He looked at her curiously. "My name is Vasper."

"El—" She cut off and bit her lip. Vasper looked at her for a moment, then returned to his food. They sat in silence, listening to the city move around them. Eventually the Rabbit hopped over and settled down near her leg. She could feel him shivering.

"How can I help you get back to your family?" she asked after a while. His nose twitched and it took him a minute to answer.

"There's…a tunnel. A hole in the wall, kind of, that we use to get in and out of the city. If I can get there safely, I'll make it home just fine."

Elphaba nodded. "Do you want to go now, or do you want to rest some more?"

Vasper looked up at her. "Who are you?"

She met his eyes, but quickly glanced away. "No one," she breathed. The Rabbit leaned further into her leg, sharing warmth, and she felt his heartbeat racing.

"We can go now," he said.

Elphaba nodded. She hesitated a moment, then pulled her hood back. Vasper watched curiously as she pulled on the hat she had bought and tugged it low over her eyes. He didn't say a word as she pulled her bag over her shoulder, just hopped back into her arms, nuzzled against her, and led her through the streets.

Elphaba stayed at the city wall that night, long after Vasper had disappeared through the hole he guided her to. He had talked about convincing his family to move away from the city, and she wished him all the luck in the world.

It was weird, knowing she would never see the Rabbit again. Somewhere out there, running home to his den, was someone who knew her skin color and part of her name and not much else. Yet they'd remember each other for a long time, if not the rest of their lives…though that might not be so long.

The back of her neck prickled. Her head snapped up, but she saw nothing.

She ended up on the roof of the corn exchange that night, stretching out and staring up at the sky that never got quite as dark as she was used to. She thought about all the fleeting encounters she'd ever had. Vasper was only meant to last a few hours. Peric, a few weeks.

Glinda. Glinda had been with her for just a few months, yet it seemed like lifetimes. No, it seemed like seconds.

You said they knew about this research, about me. Will I have to go there someday?

Elphaba closed her eyes and imagined kind eyes and a furry beard.

If they're so secret, how do they get new members?

Dillamond's answer had seemed so simple when she first heard it. Now, it seemed like the exact opposite.

You make your intentions known, and they find you.

She thought about the whispers in the streets and the destroyed bakery. She thought about the eyes she had felt on her near the city's wall.

She thought about how she couldn't see the stars here. She thought about the tiny blonde she could never quite stop thinking about.

And finally, she decided it was time.

For a week, nothing happened.

Elphaba gradually became nocturnal, though really she was getting even less sleep than she did at Shiz. She paid more attention than usual, and it wasn't hard to find the rumors she was looking for. Elphaba Thropp was no stranger to trouble, but it was different to be actively and purposefully pursuing it.

First it was a Dog, bought as a pet by some man who, incidentally, didn't live far from the bakery. Elphaba found her chained to a pole in the ground.

"I won't hurt you," she said, kneeling in front of the Dog.

"Who are you?" The Dog had gleaming eyes and a white patch on her forehead.

"No one," said Elphaba. She reached her hand out and waited. The Dog sniffed her, then gave a low whine and sat down. Elphaba carefully unhooked the leather collar and wished her luck. When the Dog had disappeared from view, Elphaba focused on the collar in her palm, letting it burst into flames before dropping it on the ground.

A couple days later, a young boy was seen talking to a Bird in the streets. The Bird flew away at the first hint of danger, leaving the boy to face a towering Gillikinese man.

"He was friendly!" the boy protested. From the shadows of a nearby building, Elphaba tugged the brim of her hat down and moved forward. She didn't listen to what the man was yelling. The boy backed up against the front of a shop, but before the man could step closer she was there, shoving roughly into his shoulder. Her fingers found the purse at his belt and tugged at the strings.

Coins spilled out across the street. The man cursed and immediately knelt to gather them again, and the little boy used his distraction as an escape. Elphaba ducked her head and kept walking, pocketing the handful of gold she had managed to catch before it hit the ground.

She found and disabled snares that were placed on windowsills and rooftops. She swiped food from the angrier shopkeepers and left it on the doorsteps of the dirty, overflowing shacks where so many of the working Munchkinlanders were forced to live.

Then came the night that she freed a Snake from its cage and, after watching it nod its thanks and disappear into a gap between buildings, felt the familiar prickling of eyes watching her. She turned slowly in a circle and, for the first time, saw something. It was a subtle movement, the shifting of a shadow, but it was enough.

She followed it.

It was unnerving, chasing something she couldn't hear and could barely see. The alleys she was led through turned and narrowed and connected in ways she was sure she would never be able to find on her own. Everything seemed to be moving at twice the usual speed, yet they never seemed to stop.

She knew—she knew—this was just a beginning. Yet it felt like an end. How long had she been travelling? How far had she come since that day last year, when Dillamond had slipped his old, faded journal into her hands? Who was the girl who knelt beside him then, trembling and angry and not at all afraid of what Oz had to throw at her?

She was afraid now. She was terrified. But as they reached a dead end, and the shadow came to a halt somewhere above and in front of her, she stood tall and lifted her gaze toward the figure. For a long moment, there was silence. Then…

"…I wondered when I'd see you here."