Rumors flew around about the Suicide Canal. Somehow, Glinda's name stayed out of it, but that didn't make her worry any less. She refused to tell the boys about what had happened at the bridge. She was too afraid.

Her magic was getting worse.

She had gone from stumbling over pronunciations and losing concentration to having no talent whatsoever. She lost control of spells as she cast them, and more than once she ended up with a charm exploding in her hands and forcing her to the ground. Or worse, she would manage a spell but couldn't stop it from draining all her energy. She would leave the classroom sore and lightheaded and already dreading when she would have to return.

Her emotions were getting the better of her. She arrived at class stressed and nervous. Her hands would shake and the energy would stutter out of her, ruining every attempt she made. That, or she would drag herself into the sorcery building with tired eyes and slumped shoulders. Those were the days where she felt nothing, and she could only cast nothing.

Madame Morrible was watching her, studying her in a way that Glinda was all too familiar with. But the strange thing was, Morrible never addressed her. She had even stopped calling her name after class. Instead, she just…observed. It was as if she was intrigued, but distantly. Quietly. The only emotion she really showed was an irritatingly smug grin whenever Glinda showed up to class angry.

Because on the days she was angry, she could manage. It was rare that she had the energy for it, but when she was angry, she was brimming with not only power, but also the will and focus to control it. She excelled when angry, completing every challenge she was given long before any of her classmates. Those were the days she would stumble back to Crage Hall after class and immediately collapse in bed.

The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. In the emptiness of her dorm room, she was reminded of the beginning of last year, of biting arguments and bursts of violence. She remembered throwing Elphaba back in a burst of magic—the first time her power had come so easily. There had been a time, just before they became friends and she learned to control the skill, when Glinda feared the source of her magic.

Now she was back to that point. What did it mean if she could only summon magic when she was furious? Was it just because Elphaba was gone, or was it something worse?

No. It had to be because Elphaba left. Glinda had learned balance and control during those quiet afternoons in their dorm room, studying beside Elphaba. The green girl had changed her, brought her out of her social disguise and taught her how to be purely and unapologetically herself. She found steadiness in Elphaba, and it had transferred over to her magic. But now that she was gone, Glinda was losing all control. Every emotion was off balance, she didn't know who or how to be, and it reflected in her magic.

But anger? Anger she knew how to do. And she was so desperate for some semblance of control that, when she came to class with flashing eyes and a seething temper, she didn't even try to calm down.

Anger was quickly slipping into frustration, though, and frustration was out of her control. When her rage turned inward—on the days Nikidik got the better of her and she came to class in a distracted mess of flushed cheeks and burning eyes—she was more dangerous than ever.

"Miss Glinda."

It was the first time she'd heard Morrible call her name in weeks. Glinda stood still as her classmates exited around her, most of them swerving to stay as far away from her as possible.

"I think we have a few things to discuss."

Morrible led her through the sorcery building and back to her office. Glinda sank into the chair she was offered and stared unblinkingly at her knees.

"Would you like some tea?"

Glinda gave no response.

"You know why we're here, don't you?"

She tucked her hands beneath her legs. Morrible sighed.

"Fine. Miss Glinda, this needs to change." The headmistress leaned forward, trying and failing to catch Glinda's gaze. "Your skills have been deteriorating. You've let your emotions get the better of you not just once, but over and over again until you've lost all control. You are nothing near the sorcerer you were last semester, and we can't let this go on."

Glinda set her jaw and stayed silent, waiting for Morrible's taunts, her smug grin, the sideways mention of everything that had happened last semester.

"You are becoming more and more dangerous," she said. "I'm pretty sure you've noticed it yourself. But the more you notice it, the harder it gets. This is a hard semester for you, I know. Outside influences do not help. But if you don't learn to manage yourself, then this will only get worse."

"I don't need your help," Glinda muttered.

"Your fellow sorcery students are beginning to avoid you. Other students on campus are starting to see your weak spots—where they can hit you hardest. Need I remind you of the destruction you caused at the Suicide Canal?"

Glinda jerked and finally looked up at her. Morrible's gaze was firm.

"This isn't a problem you can ignore and hope for the best. It has gone too far, and I'm afraid if you leave it unresolved much longer…well, I don't know what will happen." The headmistress folded her hands over her desk and sat up straighter. "I strongly suggest you put more of your time and focus into sorcery. A little one-on-one time after classes, perhaps. I know, this is the last thing you want. That's understandable. But this doesn't just affect you anymore."

Glinda swallowed but forced her face to stay blank. "You think I'll hurt someone," she whispered.

"With the way things have progressed for you, I believe it is inevitable."

In the split second that followed, Glinda pictured the boys with her at the Suicide Canal, thrown to the ground in her rage. Then, even worse, she imagined Elphaba there with her, the water engulfing and burning her. And in the complete terror that pulsed through her, Glinda didn't even try to argue.

"What do I have to do?"

Morrible nodded. "We'll start with a short session after each class and work from there."

Glinda nodded and slowly got to her feet. "May I go?"

"Yes. But Glinda?" Morrible waited for Glinda to turn and face her again. "I cannot help you privately unless you officially declare your intent to study sorcery."

She shivered, but one look at Morrible told her that she had been, yet again, backed into a corner.

"Fine."

And then she walked away, too tired to storm out.

"You what?"

Glinda traced a finger through the little ring of water left behind by her glass. She couldn't bring herself to look up at Boq. "You heard me."

He sat back in his chair. "I don't believe it."

"What was I supposed to do?" she asked, scowling down at the table. "She didn't exactly give me a choice."

"I thought you wanted to study architecture," Fiyero said quietly.

"I do. But if I'm going to continue with sorcery I need the extra help."

"Couldn't you just…you know…not continue with sorcery?" Tibbett asked.

Glinda pressed her lips together. She had thought of that, of course, but something held her back.

"This is what I've wanted ever since I was a little girl," she said. It wasn't really a lie.

"But with Morrible?"

"Is there anyone else?"

Boq rubbed his forehead. "Okay, just to be clear on this: you declared a specialty in sorcery, meaning that you'll be working right beneath our evil headmistress—the same woman who murdered Dillamond and threatened you and Elphaba countless times last year—you did all of that so you could…spend more time working privately with her?"

Glinda flinched, tears pricking at her eyes. "You don't understand," she whispered.

"No, I don't," said Boq, his eyes pleading. "Do you realize how ridiculous this sounds? How terrifying? How can you justify this, Glinda? Oz, can you even imagine what Elphaba would say if she was here?"

"Well she's not here!" Glinda snapped. "If she was, none of this would have happened. But she's not, she's gone, and whatever she would have said is irrelevant."

She pushed away from the table and left the café before any of them could so much as call her name.

Outside, the temperature was dropping with the sun, unusually cold for mid-autumn. But then, everything about this year was unusual. Glinda ignored the chill spreading across her skin and hurried for Crage Hall. She slammed the door of her dorm room shut, realizing as she did so that she had left her bag with the boys.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She collapsed into Elphaba's bed—it was beyond instinct now; it was the only option—and curled up painfully tight, doing her best to shrink down small enough so that she could simply disappear into the mattress.

The knock came only ten minutes later, and Glinda immediately decided it wasn't worth the effort of moving. But then came a second knock, slightly more urgent, and followed by someone calling her name.

"You're not supposed to be here," she grumbled, mostly to herself, as she climbed out of bed.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Crope said as she opened the door. "May we?"

Glinda stepped aside and let the boys into the room. "What do you want?"

Fiyero silently handed her the bag she'd left, which she tossed onto Elphaba's bed before sitting next to it.

"How mad will you get if we say we're worried about you?" Fiyero's voice was soft. From where he was leaning against the door, Boq shifted his weight and crossed his arms over his chest.

Glinda exhaled. "I can't…I don't…do we have to talk about this now?"

"Glinda." Boq's voice was timid. "You have to admit this is insane. Please, you have to see that."

"Of course I do. But that doesn't change the fact that…" She trailed off, her brow furrowing.

"You said we needed to take care of each other," said Boq.

"I know."

"How can we do that if you're putting yourself in this position?"

Glinda rubbed her forehead. "What I did was necessary. And even if it wasn't, the choice has already been made, and there's no changing it. Okay?"

Neither of them looked at each other. The air thickened, and no one knew what to say next.

In the silence that followed, Fiyero allowed himself to gaze around the room. It hadn't changed much since they were here at the beginning of the summer, though Glinda's desk was messier, and her bed had gathered more dust. The latter seemed to draw his attention, and he turned to raise an eyebrow at her, noticing at the same time how rumpled Elphaba's sheets were.

"Do you always sleep there?"

Glinda just shrugged. She had tried, weeks ago, to sleep in her own bed. She had pulled the fluffy pink comforter around herself and nestled into the softness of her pillows and, for a while, managed to ignore the fact that everything felt wrong.

But it had rained that night, the storm pounding relentlessly against the glass of her window until, with only a couple hours left before her first class, she was forced to retreat across the room to Elphaba's bed.

Boq stared down at his feet. Fiyero had worry written all over his face, but as he opened his mouth—no doubt to tell her how unhealthy this was—Crope gently nudged him.

"Don't," he mouthed. Tibbett moved over to sit by Glinda's feet and reached up to grab her hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, staring at his fingers covering hers. For a moment she looked up to meet Boq's eyes, then back down again. "I know I'm crazy."

Of all people, Crope and Tibbett shook their heads.

"No," Crope said. "You're in love."

Elphaba stared up, finding herself reflected in a bright, beady eye. She pressed her lips together and waited.

Silence rolled over the two of them, hushing the sounds of the Emerald City. There were no street lamps or torches here, and though her eyes had long since adjusted, the darkness seemed to deepen with every second that ticked slowly by. The eye blinked slowly. Elphaba gripped the hem of her cloak and willed her fingers not to tremble.

"I came alone," she said finally. The eye gleamed and she heard a beak click.

"I know."

She tilted her chin up. "You know why I'm here."

"Yes."

"So?"

There was a soft sound, the breathy glide of wings unfurling, and Elphaba lost sight of him for a moment before she felt a presence landing in front of her.

"How much do you trust me?" Peric asked.

"More than anyone else in this city."

His head tilted and a tiny bit of light caught his beak, revealing a smirk. "That's not saying much."

Elphaba said nothing, and Peric clicked his beak again before shifting his wings.

"Follow me."

He took off, moving shadow-like to the corner of the alley, where he disappeared down a narrow path she hadn't noticed before. If it weren't for the fact that she could feel his presence right in front of her, Elphaba would have never been able to keep track of him.

Peric led her deeper into the city. She couldn't see much, but she could almost feel the increase in buildings surrounding her. Everything grew closer together, blocking out even more light. She felt as if the city was pressing in on her, suffocating her, yet she also felt a small sense of security in the maze that Peric took her through.

They went on forever. Elphaba's legs were shaking by the time Peric widened his wings and dropped to the ground in front of her. She watched as he hopped a little and turned to look up at her.

"Do you still trust me?" he asked.

"Wh—"

Something passed over her eyes and she felt the rough scrape of cloth pressed against her face. Adrenaline poured through her, mixing with the hot trickle of magic, and she shoved herself away.

Hands grabbed her, pinning her arms in place and covering her mouth. Her hat fell off, leaving her face exposed, and Elphaba hoped that the sound that came out of her sounded more threatening to them than it did to her. The bag was torn off her shoulder and she kicked out, aiming for anything and everything she could reach. Her foot made contact with something, but all she heard was the sharp clicking of a beak.

"Watch it, Fae! Calm down—stop struggling!"

The cloth tightened around her eyes and she felt someone knotting it against the back of her skull. The hands pinning her in place let go, only to be immediately replaced by a heavy weight and the sharp prick of talons on her shoulder.

"You have to trust me," Peric said quietly.

"What the—"

"Fae. Trust me."

Teeth clenched and body trembling, she nodded. He hopped away from her shoulder, pushing off with enough force to make her stagger back a few steps, and she held still. Hands grabbed her arms again with only slightly less force than last time.

"Put the magic away, greenie," a voice said, giving her a little shove. Elphaba realized her hands were warm and quickly shook them out. The hands nudged her forward and she had no choice but to be pushed further into the city, Peric's presence beside her the only thing keeping her grounded.

"You could have given me a warning," said Elphaba. Her voice was tight and rough, though whether that was from the adrenaline or just her lack of speaking, she didn't know. They'd been walking for…well, she didn't know that either, really. A long time.

"Technically that would be against the rules." She could have sworn Peric was grinning, and she growled under her breath. The hands on her shoulders tightened, pushing her a little harder than usual.

"We're here," said a voice beside her.

"You may want to duck," Peric said. Elphaba did as she was told, leaning over as she was urged forward.

The ground sloped beneath her feet. The dry scrape of concrete turned to something smoother, slicker, and Elphaba had to put all of her focus into keeping her balance. Chills ran up her spine at how vulnerable she was—blind and stumbling and quite literally in the hands of someone she didn't know. But Peric kept pace with her, occasionally brushing a wing against her thigh, and somehow she kept going.

As they went further down, the air became thicker, filled with moisture, and Elphaba felt it sting against her skin. It wasn't enough to leave a mark, but it was enough to irritate, like the bite of wind on a cold day. After a few more minutes Elphaba became aware of the sounds of water running. She froze, too paralyzed to even register the grip on her arms tighten.

"Keep moving," the voice behind her said, giving her a push, but she couldn't. She felt Peric hop closer, felt something warm rub against her leg.

"It's just the pipes," he said quietly. "It's just running in pipes. I promise."

Two voices whispered something behind her, and she was urged forward again, though somewhat gentler this time.

The group was quiet after that, and Elphaba felt her energy slipping away. They travelled for so long that she began to wonder if their destination was really that difficult to get to, or if they just wanted her to lose her bearings. She shivered, both at the lowering temperature and at the realization that she was hopelessly lost down here.

Finally, though, she felt the tunnel open up into something far larger. The air stopped stinging, and even through the cloth covering her eyes she could see the dim light filling the room.

They weren't alone. A hush fell as she was led forward. She felt more than heard Peric leap into the air and fly off. Whispers darted around, scraping against her ears, but she tilted her chin up and did her best to walk steadily.

A hand squeezed her shoulder and pulled her to a stop. Fingers pulled at the knot at the back of her head, and then the cloth was lifted from her eyes.

The whispers came to a stop, and the place fell silent.

For a moment all she could do was blink. The room was huge—round and tall and filled with people. Torches were set into the rocky walls, filling the place with a flickering orange glow. Without her hat covering her face or the familiar weight of her bag on her shoulder, Elphaba felt more than exposed. But she set her shoulders with a courage she wasn't sure she had and faced forward, where a tall, broad-shouldered man was approaching.

His face was dark and weathered, with bushy eyebrows and more scars than she could keep track of. Behind him, a Cat with creamy white fur hopped down from a table. It stretched, then sat down to stare at her, its head tilted curiously.

"So," said the man. His voice was low and smooth and sent chills down Elphaba's back. "The green girl has finally decided to join us."

Elphaba fought the urge to look away. She longed to search the room for Peric, just to see a familiar face, but she forced herself to hold the man's gaze.

"My name is Elphaba," she said.

"We know. We've heard a lot about you." He may have meant to sound impressed, but the sneer on his face said otherwise. "Tell me, where does a girl from Munchkinland get such fire and drive?"

"It comes with the green, I suppose," she deadpanned.

"Ah yes. The skin." He circled her, studying her fiercely, and she refused to move under his gaze. "An inconvenience, I think. How can you possibly be of use if you're so noticeable?"

"I can hide it," Elphaba replied evenly. "I've done well enough so far. Besides, it's not as if I'll be wandering around in broad daylight. Are you normally seen by your targets?"

He stopped walking and scowled down at her. She heard the clicking of Peric's beak from somewhere in the room, but she couldn't tell if it was amusement or a warning.

"One glimpse of a leg, or even a finger," he growled, "And everyone will know who you are."

"If I'm seen in the dark, they'll think it's simply a trick of the light," she said. "That, or they'll believe that the city itself has come to punish them."

A murmur ran through the room. The man stepped back. "All of this is irrelevant. We have yet to decide what exactly we're going to do with you."

Before Elphaba could respond, the Cat she had seen earlier came forward. "Easy now. You know very well that our young Miss Thropp is of no threat to us."

She set her jaw. "It's just Elphaba."

The Cat's eyes gleamed with curiosity, but he was far less hostile than the man had been. "Elphaba, then…for now. Welcome to our home, however humble it might be."

A little bit of tension left her shoulders. "May I ask where we are?"

"Beneath the city," said the Cat. "I'm afraid that's all I can tell you, though."

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. "What happens now?"

"Now," said the man, still glaring at her, "you need to make a decision."

"Why would I be here if I hadn't already decided?" Elphaba asked.

The Cat's tail flicked. "It's important for you to know what exactly you are pledging yourself to," he said.

"We know of your research," the man said. "But what of your loyalties? Your admiration for one professor doesn't make you our ally."

Elphaba bristled at the words. "Dr. Dillamond was one of the greatest minds Oz has ever known. He was my mentor and my friend."

"This place is not for those who seek vengeance."

"I seek justice," Elphaba said. "Do not cast me aside as some naïve, grief-stricken schoolgirl. I've been fighting for this cause for months now. I've lost a lot to Oz's cruelty, and I have a right to try to make it better."

He continued to stare at her, saying nothing, but the crowd was whispering again.

"Let her pledge!" a voice called out, and several others rose in agreement. The man and Cat both lifted their eyes to stare around the room.

"She must be vouched for," the man said.

"I will vouch for her." Elphaba followed the sound of Peric's voice and finally saw him perched in a corner of the room, but his gaze was fixed on the man.

"She will be your responsibility," the man said, staring back.

"I will vouch for her," Peric repeated. A dark look passed over the man's features, but finally he nodded, stepping back.

"Very well," he grumbled. He hardly looked at Elphaba as he added, loud enough for the whole room to hear, "She will stay. For now."

He turned and walked away, but the Cat stepped closer. "You will need a name."

"What?"

"You can't go by your old name anymore. Too many people know it."

"I—"

"Fae."

They both turned toward the corner of the room. Peric jumped from his post and glided down to where they stood. "Her name is Fae."

There was a brief pause as the Cat thought. "Very well. Fae."

Elphaba met Peric's eyes, then looked back at the Cat and nodded. He turned toward Peric. "You can take her from here?"

"Yes."

The Cat blinked slowly. "Good. She will stay in your quarters for now. Take her through every task, every job you have, unless ordered otherwise." He turned toward Elphaba. "Peric won't be able to answer all your questions, but you are free to ask anything. Because he has vouched for you, he is responsible for you. He will show you around and help you get used to the way we do things. Stick with him, and I'm sure you'll be fine. And Fae…" The Cat lowered his head, his eyes growing dark. "My deepest condolences, for what happened to Dr. Dillamond. He was a good Animal, and you did much to help him."

Elphaba's mouth went dry, but she managed to nod. The Cat shared a glance with Peric before turning and walking back to his table.

She turned toward Peric, but he lifted his wings. "Hold on," he said before leaping into the air. He flew back to the corner he had been perched in, picked up something, then glided back down to her.

"I believe you'll be wanting these back."

Elphaba smiled a little as she took her hat and bag from him and put them both on. Peric grinned.

"I like the hat. It suites you."

"What now?" she asked, looking around. The crowd that had been watching her this entire time had now dispersed and was wandering around the room, each person or Animal focused on their own business.

"Now is the time where you drown me in questions, I answer a few of them, and we both hopefully eat something and get some sleep."

"Wh—"

"Fae?"

The name sounded strange, but Elphaba turned and faced whoever was addressing her. A young Bear stood before her, looking vaguely nervous.

"I just wanted to say…well, I've heard of your work, and the things you've done. And I know I speak for a lot of people when I say…well, thank you."

Elphaba nodded, and the Bear quickly dropped to all fours and hurried off. She turned back to Peric, an eyebrow raised, but he shook his head.

"Come on. My quarters are this way." He led her down one of the countless tunnels that branched off the main room. They went up a story, then another, with Peric talking most of the way. "There are stairs in the cavern back there, too. It seems confusing now, but you'll learn your way around fast enough. That was the main hall you were just in, and that's where you'll report back to for just about everything."

"And the second and third floors?"

"Living quarters, mostly," said the Bird.

"Does everyone in the Resistance live here?"

Peric seemed to think about it. "I don't think so. But I think you need a special reason to live somewhere else."

"You don't know?"

"I know what I'm told," he said. "Relatively speaking, it's not a lot. But it's enough for me to do my job, and that's what matters." He gave her a sideways look. "I know it won't be easy, but that's something you'll have to learn here."

"Great."

They reached Peric's quarters—a small, dimly lit room set snugly into the wall. There was a little alcove high up in a corner, filled with small rocks and straw and torn strips of cloth. On another side of the room there was a thick blanket stretched over more straw. A single torch was set into the wall, right next to a rudely crafted chest of drawers, on top of which was a small tray of food.

"Help yourself," Peric said, nodding toward the tray. Elphaba tore apart a loaf of bread and collapsed onto the bed in the corner. Peric hopped over to sit next to her, and for the first time they got a good look at each other.

He seemed steadier, just in the way he carried himself. The chunk missing from the ridge at the top of his head was now accompanied by a pale scar across his right eye and a chip near the point of his beak. But the fluff of feathers around his neck was as white as ever, and his eyes gleamed as he studied her.

"I am happy you're here, Fae."

She just nodded, not really sure if she could agree yet. "That man back there, and the Cat who talked to me. Who were they?"

Peric thought about it. "Names are…complicated, here. The man's pretty important—I'm surprised he even talked to you, actually. But I don't even know his name, fake or otherwise."

"And the Cat?"

"Malky, I think. I've seen him around a few times, though we've never really spoken before.

"How can you live and work with these people, but not know who they are?"

Peric shrugged his wings. "Anonymity is the basis of our operation."

That seemed like all he was going to say, so Elphaba took a bite of bread and tried again. "So where are we, exactly?"

"Underground," he said. "There are a few different tunnel systems beneath the city, and no one really knows where they come from."

"Do you use all of them?"

"Probably. They're useful for getting around. But this is our main hideout, and it's the only one I know my way around."

"Why this one?"

"It's connected to the sewers."

"So that was the running water I heard," Elphaba said.

"Yes. It's a good way to get nearly anywhere in the city without being seen."

Elphaba scowled. "If you say so."

He let out something close to a chuckle. She rolled her eyes.

"What about that Bear back there?" she asked. "And the rest of the crowd. They seemed…"

"Interested in you?"

She glanced at him, then looked down at her lap. "Yeah."

"We heard about you a long time ago, Fae. Ever since Dillamond sent us part of your research, we've been keeping an eye out for you."

"So everyone here knows who I am?"

"They know about the green girl who worked with Dillamond. And Dillamond was—is—highly respected in the Animal community. Especially here."

Elphaba folded her knees and hugged them to her chest. "What do they expect from me?"

"Nothing more or less than everyone else." Peric nipped gently at her braid. "I know it's overwhelming now. But there's a place here for you. You just have to learn to slip into it."

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, "How much am I leaving behind?"

Her voice was so quiet that Peric wasn't sure if he was meant to hear. He wasn't sure it mattered, anyway. There was no good answer he could offer her.

"Get some sleep," he told her gently. "This will all seem less daunting in the morning."

She closed her eyes as his voice washed over her, letting herself be comforted for the first time since…well, since she was with Glinda. For a moment she felt her cheeks grow hot and her eyes burn, but she swallowed the emotion down before it could surface. She would have been embarrassed, but this was Peric, and Peric had never been one to judge or use her vulnerability.

He unfolded his wings and flew up to the nest in the corner. "Good night, Fae."

Elphaba mumbled something in return and lay down on the blanket, curling up tight. Her last thought was that something was missing—there was too much empty space between her torso and her arm folded in front of her—and then she was asleep.