Insecurities have a funny way of building on each other, leading to one another, blurring together until what was once a small cloud of thought leads to a raging, never-ending storm.

Glinda sat on the bed and stared out the window, watching the sky turn from black to blue to the pale, dreary gray that lingered over Shiz lately. She stared until all the tears had run out and her eyes felt heavy. She stayed there, unmoving, until her body didn't even feel like hers anymore.

She was broken, but she could deal with broken. She was angry, but she could deal with angry. Everything she had gone through, all the pain she had felt these past few months, she could sit through and sort out, if she had the courage. It hurt, but at least she knew where it was coming from. At least she knew who to blame.

But now? Now Elphaba had left her again, and Glinda wasn't sure who was at fault anymore. Surely it was still Morrible, with her glinting eyes and haughty expression every time she looked at her. Surely it was the stubborn, protective part of Elphaba that refused to put her in danger, no matter how much Glinda longed to stay at her side. Perhaps it was even the Wizard's fault, for throwing Oz into such chaos that they got swept into it.

But was that really it? Was it all just circumstances beyond her control? Or did she, Glinda, also carry the blame? Did she do something to push Elphaba away? Could she have somehow prevented the events of last spring from spiraling so far beyond their control that they ended up here, separated and heartbroken?

And then, the most daunting question of all: was Glinda just not good enough?

It wouldn't have been the first time. She thought of last year, when she had tried to befriend Elphaba while keeping her old friends, only to fail epically. Then she thought back earlier, to all the time spent alone in a quiet, empty house because her parents were always too busy. Was the truth of it all—then, now, always—that Glinda was to blame?

What would have been different, if Glinda was just a little stronger? If she was braver, or smarter, or even more stubborn, what could she have changed? What could she have stopped? If she was something more than a pretty girl in a dress, would Elphaba want her at her side?

Glinda felt sick suddenly. She hugged her waist and doubled over, gasping for breath. She had always feared not being good enough for Elphie. She wasn't a good enough friend. She wasn't smart enough to help with Dillamond's research. She wasn't strong enough to protect her from Morrible. And when it came down to it, when Elphaba decided that Shiz wasn't her home anymore, Glinda wasn't enough to convince her otherwise.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard the bell tower chime the hour. Glinda wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and bury herself in Elphaba's covers, but she knew better. If she didn't show up to her classes, if someone got suspicious, if Madame Morrible found out anything…

So, she pulled herself together. She stumbled to the bathroom and splashed water over her face until she could no longer feel the dried tears. She picked out a nice dress and matching heels and avoided her eyes in the mirror as she brushed through her hair until it shone. She even dabbed some makeup on, though she couldn't bring herself to put on perfume. She could still smell Elphaba on herself.

When it was time, Glinda forced herself to shoulder her bag and trudge across campus to her mathematics class. The boys were waiting for her at the back of the classroom, and they all stared as she took the seat between Boq and Fiyero.

"Where were you?" Boq asked. "We didn't see you all weekend."

"In my room," she said. "Where else?"

"We were worried about you," Fiyero mumbled.

"You're always worried about me." Glinda avoided their gazes and pulled out her books. Their professor walked in a moment later, allowing her to ignore the boys for the rest of the period.

An hour later the bell tower chimed, ending the period. Fiyero, Crope, and Tibbett gave her concerned looks, but they reluctantly left to head across campus for their next class. Boq stayed with her, and together they headed for their life sciences class. Glinda could feel his eyes on her the whole way there, even as they took their usual seats against the back wall. She sank into her chair and sighed.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"You look different. You look…"

Glinda crossed her arms and scowled at the table. "Better? Worse?"

"Both." Boq shook his head. "If that's possible. What happened this weekend?"

She grit her teeth. "Nothing."

He hesitated, continuing to study her. "If something did happen…you wouldn't be able to tell us, would you?"

"No," she said quietly, shaking her head. "Of course not."

"Did you see her? Was she here?"

Glinda looked at him helplessly. She couldn't tell him anything, and he knew it. Not that it mattered—the tears in her eyes were answer enough. Boq covered her hand.

"It's okay," he said, turning back to his books. "I'll make sure the others back off."

Glinda nodded and looked away. Their professor entered the room with a cheery "Good morning, class," and Glinda settled into her notes, once again ignoring Boq.

Where was Elphaba now? It had only been a few hours since she had vanished out her window. Was she still flying over Oz, or was she already back at the Emerald City? What was waiting for her there? What would she do when she returned?

What would Glinda do now? Seeing Elphie again had been so surreal. Boq was right—she was better, and she was worse. Better because she knew Elphaba was alive. She was in the Emerald City, and no matter what dangers she was putting herself into, at least she had found a place there.

She was worse, though, because she had no idea what happened next. Her thoughts from this morning returned. Was it her fault? Was there something more she could have done? Glinda quickly shook her head, blinking hard. She couldn't think about that. Not right now. Boq turned his head toward her.

"Glinda?"

"I'm fine." She wasn't fine. She was tired and scared. When Elphaba had left last spring, Glinda had been devastated. She had been desperate and confused and so, so hurt. Now all those feelings were back, maybe even worse than before. But she avoided Boq's gaze, sure that if she met his eyes she would lose it completely, and after a moment he looked away, focusing once more on his notes.

Glinda tried to follow suit, but she was tired. She thought of Nikidik's class this afternoon, followed by the hours she would spend with Morrible. Oz, she was so tired. She felt as though she had been fighting for months, and she didn't think she could anymore. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.

The week passed painfully slow for Glinda. She endured her classes with her head down and her mouth shut. When Nikidik asked her a question, she just shook her head and stared quietly down at her notes. During her sessions with Morrible, she was all but useless. She couldn't summon the energy to cast simple spells, let alone the exercises Morrible was forcing her to do. She was quiet, too, whenever she ate with the boys. In fact, the only person she really talked to was Boq, and that was only during their hours spent holed up in some corner of the library.

As the days crawled by, Glinda buried herself in her studies, especially her sorcery project. Knowing Morrible didn't approve made it easier to work on, and it soon became her favorite past time. Every day, as soon as her other assignments were completed, Glinda would pull out her sorcery book and begin digging almost eagerly through it. If she was in the library, she would wander around plucking books from their shelves, spreading them across the table until she was nearly buried in texts.

The first time this happened, Boq had been more than a little concerned, especially after he noticed they were all sorcery books.

"Is Morrible making you do all this?" he had asked, horrified.

Glinda smiled, tucking a leg beneath her to sit taller and see better. "Not really. We have to do independent research for our final."

"So she is making you do it."

"Yes, but I'm studying healing spells, which she hates."

Boq had tilted his head. "She hates healing magic? Why?"

"She said it was beneath her, or something like that." Glinda had waved her hand dismissively. "She probably just struggles with it, honestly."

"So, that's what you chose to research."

Glinda shrugged. "It seemed like the right topic."

Boq had proved useful as she delved further into the research. Understanding the body was essential in healing it, and for that she needed life sciences. When she struggled with learning how to mend and reset bones, Boq brought her a book on the structure and composition of the skeleton. When she was studying spells that dealt with internal damage, Boq let her borrow his notes on the organs and their structures.

Today, though, she was studying the risks and side effects of spells, and no amount of Boq's knowledge was going to help her. It wasn't difficult, really, but it was a lot to remember. A spell to stop internal bleeding could accidentally cause clotting in the blood. One wrong move in a charm to heal bones could set them wrong and cause even more pain and permanent damage. Spells that dealt with head injuries listed more fatal risks than actual remedies.

Glinda groaned and let her head fall to the table. She heard Boq chuckling from his seat on the other side.

"What's the topic today?" he asked.

"Risks and side effects," she mumbled. She sat up and looked at him. "Did you know there are twenty-four different ways to mess up a muscle repairing spell?"

"Only twenty-four?"

She gave him a look. "And even if the spell is perfect, there are still dozens of side effects. The skin around it can be discolored, the muscle can have random spurts of strength, the patient can experience feelings of hunger, nausea, dizziness, invincibility, or basically anything else over the weeks following the spell. And then of course there's the issue of having magic in the body, which has unexplainable, unpredictable results and can't be avoided with any spell and—"

"You're losing me, Glinda."

She stopped, realizing how fast she had been talking. "Sorry."

Boq gave her a small smile and shut his own notebook. "It's okay. I'm getting bored of math anyway. Want to talk me through it?"

It was a habit of theirs, when either of them were stuck in their homework. They would talk through the subject out loud, and the other would either listen patiently or ignore them and keep working. It didn't matter. Somehow vocalizing their studies made it easier. Glinda had first learned that with Elphaba.

"It's not hard," she said. "There's just a lot to remember."

"Sounds like it," said Boq. "What did you say about magic in the body? I'm curious."

Glinda shifted in her seat, curling her legs beneath her. "Well, obviously when you cast a spell, magic is released. For most spells it doesn't matter, because it's released into the air and dissipates, but with healing spells, the magic is released into the body, which can cause problems."

"I don't understand," Boq said. "You've said before that all living things are capable of performing magic. Doesn't that mean they already contain it?"

"Like I said, it's unexplainable. My guess is that innate magic isn't an issue because it belongs to the body. When it's someone else's spell, though, the magic is foreign. Sometimes it's fine, but other times the body rejects it."

"How?"

"It depends. Sometimes the effects of the spell just wear off, sometimes they grow more powerful. Maybe the person gets sick, or they start casting magic themselves, which is probably the body's way of trying to get rid of energy it's not used to."

"What do you think causes it?" Boq asked.

"I don't know. Maybe…" Glinda looked down at her notes, then back up at him. "Magic is tied to emotion. It's energy, and it's inseparable from the soul, which is why it can never be an exact science. Maybe it has to do with the two people. If the caster and the patient care for each other, then their energies would be a better match and the magic would take easier. But if they're strangers or they don't like each other or something, then their energies would resist each other, causing the magic to be rejected."

"So, if you cast a spell on me, it'd be okay. But if you cast one on Morrible, she'd probably die?"

Glinda giggled. "Exactly. But it's just a theory. It might also have to do with the recipient's knowledge and opinion of magic. The more you use or understand magic, the better luck you'll have. I'm guessing."

"Oh. I take it back, then. You shouldn't cast a healing spell on me."

"You don't trust magic?"

Boq looked at the books scattered across her side of the table. "I have no interest in it. But if there ever was a good use for sorcery, it would definitely be healing."

"I could teach you. A spell to treat surface wounds is easy."

Boq laughed. "No way," he said, shaking his head. "Magic is definitely not my thing."

"I don't know. I think you could look into it," Glinda mused. "Maybe sorcery could help the farms in Munchkinland. Weather manipulation is almost its own field of magic. And I'm sure there are enchantments to fertilize soil or keep pests away. You could use spells to build and repair things, lift and move heavy objects, you could—"

"That's all great," Boq said, "But the farms themselves are only half the problem. The Munchkinlanders need jobs—jobs that aren't a mere step above slave labor in the Emerald City—and magic would take that away."

Glinda was quiet for a moment, thinking. "There could be a balance. With enchantments for the weather and soil, there could be more crops, which would mean more workers, right?"

"Maybe." Boq shifted. "The thing is, most of Munchkinland isn't that fond of magic. Most of Oz isn't."

"I know." Glinda almost pouted. "Outside Gillikin, it's seen as dangerous and untrustworthy."

"Well, think about it. It's associated with people in power. The Wizard rules Oz with magic—supposedly—and outside Gillikin, most people don't trust the Wizard. Even here at Shiz, magic is associated with Morrible."

"But it can be used for great things," Glinda protested. "Morrible is evil, but magic isn't. It can be practical, helpful. I mean, look at my fire. Look at all this knowledge on healing spells."

Boq gave a short laugh. "Yes, and if every magic user was like you, then Oz would be a much better place. But they're not. So, magic has a bad reputation."

Glinda flushed a little, but then she looked thoughtful. "I wonder if it could change. If magic was used for good, not just in small instances but for big things, all throughout Oz…I wonder if people could think differently of it."

Classes began cramming, trying to review the entire semester and fit in three more months of learning all at the same time. It was ridiculous, exhausting, and Morrible's sorcery class was no exception.

This afternoon, the headmistress had them practicing dexterity. It was a good skill, but Glinda felt a little ridiculous. With one hand she levitated a cup that was filled to the brim with hot tea. The other hand was holding a small wooden puzzle in the air, trying to fit the interlocking pieces back together again. Meanwhile, she walked carefully around a tiny square that had been taped to the floor by Morrible. One step out of line and the headmistress would send a spark of electricity to the square, zapping her just enough to throw her off and drop either the tea or the puzzle.

Glinda risked a glance around at her classmates. They were all struggling with their own cups and puzzles and tiny taped squares, and most of them looked just as self-conscious as she did. Focusing again, she twisted her fingers and slid another piece of the puzzle in place. She raised her foot to take another step. The piece she had just placed didn't hold, and two more fell out with it. Glinda dipped her hand a little, struggling to catch them before they dropped more than a couple inches, and without thinking she stepped forward.

The jolt of electricity wasn't painful, just surprising. It ran up her leg, through her torso, and down her arms. The cup tipped dangerously and the puzzle completely fell apart, but Glinda grit her teeth and drew both objects in closer, steadying them before anything fell. When she was stable again, she looked down.

Both feet were on the tape. Glinda looked across the room and saw a trace of Madame Morrible's smirk before the headmistress turned away.

Her neck prickled with heat and she felt her arms shaking. She was finally managing to do something right in this class, and still Morrible tormented her.

Suddenly her arm was burning. Glinda jerked and steadied her tea before more could spill. Her skin throbbed, and Glinda cursed under her breath as she held it up to inspect it. Gritting her teeth, she moved her hand over the burn and mumbled a quick charm. She'd wanted to practice healing spells, anyway.

To her slight surprise, the charm was flawless. Her skin cooled and within seconds, every trace of the burn was gone. She looked around the classroom, but none of her classmates appeared to have noticed.

Morrible was watching her, though. Her eyes were narrowed, and Glinda could tell her teeth were clenched. Swallowing hard, Glinda focused on her work once more, trying to ignore the headmistress's gaze. Her hands shook and her knees wobbled, threatening to give out.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder, squeezing. "It's okay," Glinda heard someone say. "You've got this."

She steadied herself and took a step forward. The puzzle pieces slid back together easily, and the cup never tilted. When she finally dared to look up again, Morrible had crossed her arms and turned away. Glinda grinned, triumphant, but then paused and looked over her shoulder. Elphie?

There was no one there. The voice was gone. It had never been there in the first place.

When the hour was almost over, Morrible walked around and inspected their work. She stopped in front of Glinda, raising her eyebrows.

"Nice work on the puzzle," she said quietly. "But it seems you've spilt some of your tea."

Glinda met her gaze and said nothing. Morrible narrowed her eyes, then waved her hand.

"You're dismissed. You did well today, so I see no need for us to meet after class."

She walked on toward the next student before Glinda could respond. Was Morrible…rewarding her? Why?

Glinda left the sorcery building with the rest of her classmates. They were talking about their final projects, swapping topics and little bits of research, but they kept a constant few feet of distance from Glinda. She was too numb to pay attention anyway. She looked up once and accidentally met the eyes of another girl. The other girl started to speak, perhaps to ask her what she was researching, but then she closed her mouth and gave Glinda one last look before turning back to the others.

Glinda's shoulders slumped. She slowed her pace, letting them all pass her, and wandered aimlessly across campus. The boys usually met her at the café for dinner, but that wasn't for another hour. Unsure of what to do, Glinda found a bench near the main square of campus and sat down. She stared up at the sky and thought of the voice she had heard during class.

It was just because Elphie had been here. She had held Glinda and talked to her so recently, and now it was stuck in Glinda's mind. That was the only reason.

"I'm not going crazy," Glinda said out loud. She winced at the sound.

"I sure hope not," Crope said. She spun around, smiling as he and Tibbett walked up and sat on either side of her. "Someone in our little group needs to be sane."

"And it sure won't be us," Tibbett added. "Why are you sitting all alone in the cold?"

Glinda shrugged and gave him her most dazzling smile. "I got away from Morrible early, and I was waiting for you two."

"Of course you were," said Crope. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and stood, pulling her with him. "You weren't sulking or anything."

"I wasn't!"

"Come on, Miss Glinda." Tibbett wrapped his arm around her waist, and between them she could hardly feel the cold at all. "Dinner awaits."

The flight back to the Emerald City was long, cold, and boring. Elphaba grit her teeth and held her cloak tight with one hand. She leaned low over the broom and tried to convince herself that her eyes were watering because of the wind, nothing else.

Despite it all, she made good time. It was too light to just fly in, so Elphaba angled down, planning to land and enter the city through one of the gates in the lower district. She was stopped, however, by a dark figure appearing above the city, heading toward her.

"How did you know I was coming?" she asked when Peric got close enough.

He didn't look at her as he responded, "Birds have better eyesight. Head for the ground. We need to talk."

Elphaba tensed, but she followed him down. They landed near a cluster of trees a couple hundred feet away from the city's wall.

"What is it?" Elphaba asked. "Are you okay? Is Malky okay? Did something—"

"I'm fine, we're all fine." Peric scratched at the ground, agitated. "Malky's been spending all his time in the underground. It's a mess. Things have been crazy since we heard."

"Heard what?"

"You should fly on to Munchkinland. There's not much you can do here for a while, anyway."

"You're not making any sense. What's going on?"

"We need to know what's happening at Colwen Grounds, and you need to be with your sister."

"Peric. What happened?"

He finally looked up at her. "The Eminent Thropp. He's dead."