Peric nudged Elphaba's leg with his wing.
"Fae," he said, nodding across the room. "I think you have an admirer."
Elphaba snorted but looked. A Munchkin family was crowded near the wall, one of many, and huddled between her parents' legs was a little girl, staring at Elphaba with her fingers in her mouth.
Elphaba ignored the girl and turned back to gaze through the door and across the street. "This block is clear of soldiers," she said. "Our work is done. Should we go?"
Peric fluttered a bit and looked back into the building. It was an abandoned warehouse, made of a single, large room, and through the course of the night it had been turned into the newest safe house for the Munchkinlanders.
"How many more do we have left?" he asked.
"Three," said Malky, appearing beside him. Elphaba resisted the urge to groan. This was their second house of the night, and they'd already been working for hours.
"Kitty!"
Malky hissed a little, and they all turned to see the little Munchkin girl running up to them. Elphaba knelt in front of Malky, sparing him. The girl ran up to her without hesitation. Behind her, her parents cried out and tried to make it through the crowd to reach her, but the little girl simply stared up at Elphaba, her fingers still hanging in her open mouth.
"Are you really a witch?" she asked. She lifted her free hand, reaching for Elphaba's hat, but the green girl jerked back a little.
"Do I look like one?" she asked, her voice just a touch too harsh.
The girl didn't seem to notice. She nodded seriously, lowering her hand again. "Papa said if you're really green, that means you're from Munchkinland. He said you were the Em-emem—"
Elphaba couldn't help it. She tipped her hat back just enough for the girl to see her face. The girl gasped, grinning and clapping her hands together, and Elphaba smiled back before tugging her hat down again. "I am from Munchkinland," she said. "But you have to keep it a secret."
"Do you have to go into hiding, too?" The little girl's voice turned sad. Before Elphaba could respond, her parents ran up, all but dragging their daughter away from Elphaba. She ignored their panicked stares and stood, turning back to the others.
"It's going to be a long night," she said quietly. "Let's go."
It was a long night. Setting up safe houses turned out to be long, exhausting, somewhat tedious work. They weren't alone, either. They would arrive at a new location and help take out all the soldiers in the area. Then, without any signal that Elphaba could see, more agents would arrive, shuffling in Munchkin refugees with their ragged clothes and tiny bags. She barely saw the other Resistance members—everyone worked in silence. They would stay to make sure the block stayed clear, then they would move on, and the whole process started all over again.
The weeks since the secession were like this. Almost all of their attention was fixed on helping the Munchkinlanders in the city. It was exhausting, and Elphaba began sleeping normally again simply because she was passing out in her bed at the end of each night.
They were at their last safe house of the night, making one final sweep of the block, when Elphaba saw it. Her heart soared as she glimpsed the photo plastered over a newspaper stand across the street, but she quickly pushed the feeling away.
The Resistance had been keeping a casual eye on Glinda the Good, but there wasn't really a problem with her, other than the fact that she worked for the Wizard. She was the perfect public figure: serving the community, helping citizens, condoning violence. The perfect image, Elphaba thought. Now who does that remind you of?
The papers across the street had pictures of Glinda shaking the hands of some bankers, her smile bright. She looked gorgeous, despite that ridiculous dress, but Elphaba shook her head and turned away. If she looked closely enough, maybe she would see the weariness at the corner of Glinda's eyes, or the way her lips were stretched just a little too tight. But she didn't look close enough, and all she saw was Glinda the Good, who lied to her about studying sorcery, who turned away when Elphaba said she loved her, who never mentioned anything about an apprenticeship, and who was now working for the Wizard himself.
"Fae?"
Elphaba turned and walked a few feet away from the stand as Peric approached her. "Are we ready?" she asked.
Peric twisted a little to stare behind her, but if he saw the newspapers, he didn't say anything. "Yeah. Let's get out of here. I'm exhausted."
"Right behind you," said Malky, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.
"How do you do that?" Elphaba asked, exasperated. "You have white fur."
Malky simply chuckled and started down the street. "Years of practice," he called, flicking his tail a little. Elphaba and Peric rolled their eyes at each other, then followed him, slipping silently through the Emerald City.
"Again," Morrible said shortly. Glinda lowered her head, breathing hard, then pushed herself to her feet.
Her arms shook as she raised them in front of her. Morrible was focusing on raw strength today. She'd had some of the soldiers bring up a load of stones to their practice room and had then spent the morning throwing them at Glinda, sometimes two or three or four at a time. They were ridiculously heavy, and Glinda had lost count of the number of times she had been thrown back by the force of them. But every time, Morrible would say again, and she would get back up and keep trying.
Morrible was right. Glinda had found a focus she never had before. That, combined with the endless hours of training, had given her a newfound strength. Never before had she even imagined being able to do some of the things Morrible had her do. Yet, here she was, and when Morrible threw the next stone at her, she summoned her magic and caught it before throwing it back, just as hard.
She learned to sharpen weapons, duplicate ammo, harden regular clothes into armor, poison food or drink with just a pass of her hand. She could cast charms to muffle a door or amplify a voice, barricade a room or blast out of it, cut someone free or chain them to a wall just by looking at them. She could turn an entire room to ice, though she had passed out the only time she managed it. It was starting to scare her. Once, on one of her aimless walks around the palace, she had stumbled upon a group of Gale Force soldiers training. In the moments before they noticed her and rushed to greet her, she had watched their exercises, realizing that she could probably do the same exact thing with magic. What was Morrible turning her into?
She was distracted, and Morrible's next stone came flying at her too fast. Glinda threw her hands up, stopping it just before it hit her, but stumbling back with the force of the spell. She hit the ground hard, groaning as pain throbbed through her tailbone.
"Focus, Miss Glinda."
Glinda took a breath and climbed back to her feet. She let herself gaze around the room for a moment. Being in here nearly every day for weeks now, the room had grown familiar. The back wall held three tall, thin windows, which allowed light to flood in. The ceiling arched high above their heads. Large, elegantly carved pillars lined the two side walls, stretching from the floor to ceiling for style rather than support. Glinda liked this room. It was grand, yet simple.
What she didn't like was the woman standing in front of her. "Again," said Morrible, and Glinda sighed. Again, again, again, until she was doubled over, gasping for breath, trembling from exhaustion, all the energy drained out of her. And after that, do it again.
"I don't understand," Glinda panted. "You have me here. I'm doing what you and the Wizard want. What's the point of continuing to teach me?"
Morrible raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed, Miss Glinda. That was actually a decent question."
The answer irritated Glinda, but she was too exhausted to do much about it. Morrible lowered her hand, and the stone she had been ready to throw fell back to the ground.
"You see, my dear, you are meant for greater things. Oh, the smiles and the photographs are good and fun for now, but you could do more. Together, with our abilities, we could do more."
"What do you mean?" Glinda asked, ignoring the dread that was gathering in her chest. "What is more?"
"How should I know?" Morrible shrugged. "But I assure you, your job does not end when the Witch does. Oz is still unstable. Think of Munchkinland. Think of who will be the next to revolt. My guess is the Vinkus, what do you think?"
"So…what? You're training me to be…"
"To be whatever we need you to be," said Morrible. "You work for the Wizard now. That is the job you took. And whatever he wants, you will do. Now." She lifted the stone once more. "Do it again."
She wanted to argue, but Morrible didn't wait for her. She threw the stone, and Glinda had no choice but to focus once more on her magic, her arms quivering under the weight and the effort of the spells. And when she was knocked back, she pushed herself back up and did it again.
And again, and again, and again.
When Morrible finally dismissed her that afternoon, Glinda all but stumbled back to her chambers. All of her walks had paid off, and she knew her way around most of the palace. The only tricky part was getting to and from places without the staff seeing her and hovering around her, calling her Your Goodness, asking if she wanted this or that.
She was exhausted when she got to her room, but it quickly disappeared when she noticed the envelope on her desk. Curious, she hurried over. Her name was written on the front, in Fiyero's handwriting.
She tore the envelope open and sank into the chair at her desk.
Glinda,
Sorry it took so long to write, but Crope and Tibbett apparently have a couple connections, and we wanted a way to get to you without Morrible's interference.
Glinda smiled a little. She could practically hear Fiyero as she read his writing. She felt more like herself than she had in weeks.
It's starting to get a little warmer around here. People are starting to hang out by the lake again. We've thought about having a picnic a couple of times, but it's still too cold without your jar of fire. Besides, we don't think it would be the same.
Boq left a few weeks ago. He was pretty torn up—we all are—but otherwise unharmed. We miss him, and we're constantly writing back and forth. He says his parents' farm is doing better. He says they're starting to put in some of his ideas, a lot of which he got from the book you gave him. He told us Munchkinland is in kind of a limbo right now. It seems like things are going okay, but no one is really sure whether the future will build it up or send it all crashing down.
Sorry. I'm trying to stay lighthearted. But you know how it is.
Glinda's smile turned sad and she nodded a little.
Shiz is boring now, with just the three of us. Sometimes I feel like I'm third-wheeling with Crope and Tibbett, but if I ever complain they just start flirting with me. Anyway, it's different without Morrible. The interim headmistress is quiet, and she seems like a bit of a pushover. Crope and Tibbett are investigating the matter. Nikidik doesn't seem to care about anything. Avaric and Pfannee have laid off, too, though that might be because I punched Avaric in the nose a few weeks ago. I don't think you need me to tell you he had it coming. Milla and Shenshen have stopped hanging out with them as well. Everything is just…quiet.
We go to town a lot. I finally let Crope and Tibbett buy me that gold eyeliner, and it's been lost in the back of one of my desk drawers ever since, much to their disappointment. Maybe I'll save it for a rainy day, to cheer them up if they're ever feeling particularly down.
Anyway. Crope and Tibbett say they hope you're escaping once in a while to enjoy the city. We all hope you blast Morrible with some fire every now and then. We've been reading some of the papers. You seem…busy.
Glinda winced a little. She could hear the hesitation in his voice, feel the doubt, the judgment.
I know it's a crazy world, and somehow you and Elphie got sucked into the center of it. Keep your head up. We miss you, tons.
Her shoulders relaxed. Then again, maybe there was no judgment.
All our love,
Fiyero
PS – Crope says your outfits are gorgeous.
Glinda carefully placed the letter at the top of her desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. She brushed at her eyes for a moment, then picked up a pen and started writing.
Fiyero,
Is it getting warmer? So much of my time is spent inside, I barely notice anymore. Whenever I leave the palace, I'm surrounded by so many people I don't think it's possible for the cold to reach me. Once in a while, if I'm lucky, they let me walk around the grounds—with an escort, of course. It amuses me, sometimes. You should see all the exercises Morrible has me do. These days, I think I could be the one protecting the soldiers.
Our dear ex-headmistress is as horrible as ever, but she told me once she's never returning to Shiz, so there's some good news for you.
Somehow, I've fallen into a routine here. I didn't think I'd ever get used to this place, but here I am. The Emerald City is breathtaking. The palace is extravagant, bustling with officials and servants and everything you could ever imagine. A year ago, I'd be delighted. Now, I think I'm just tired. But I go on. I don't think there's anything else I can do. I'm helping people here, I really think I am. I just don't know how to help the one person who really matters.
Give Boq my best. Tell him he's always in my thoughts. I'd write to him, but I doubt a letter to or from Munchkinland would ever make it through the palace. Hug Crope and Tibbett for me. Tell them to go easy on the new headmistress…but they have my full support if they choose to torment Nikidik.
Love and miss you all,
Glinda
Her excitement at the letter had faded, and she felt weary again. She put her pen down and sat back.
I'm helping people here… I just don't know how to help the one person who really matters.
When she had taken Morrible's offer, she had convinced herself it was to help Elphaba. There was nothing she could do while at Shiz, and maybe here, things would be different. But was that all it was? Convincing herself? She had betrayed Elphaba by coming here. Whatever her intentions, that part remained true. She had lied to her, hidden things from her, and then she had shown up in the city, working for the very people that Elphaba fought against.
And from all the times she was in the paper, Elphaba had to know.
Was it really worth it? The people loved her, she was helping the city, but what about Elphaba? Had she really done the right thing by coming here, or was Glinda just a fraud—pretending to do good, when really, she was only hurting the one person she cared about.
"Your Goodness?" Glinda jumped, but she recognized the girl who had knocked on her door. "Am I interrupting?"
"Ambree. No, no, come in. You startled me, that's all."
The servant girl stepped into the room. "Madame Morrible sent me. She wanted you to know that you're expected at breakfast tomorrow morning, before your trip to the shelter."
Glinda closed her eyes and nodded. She was going to one of the lower districts tomorrow and serving lunch at a shelter. She was helping people. She was doing good. That's what mattered.
Right?
"Thank you," she said. She heard Ambree turn to leave, but then got an idea. "Ambree, wait."
"Yes, Your Goodness?"
"I was wondering if you could do me a favor." Glinda took the letter from her desk and folded, then pulled out an envelope and stuck it in. She sealed it and turned back toward Ambree. "A friend of mine from Shiz wrote me, and I want to send a letter back to him. It's useless stuff, but we're old friends. I'd like our conversation to remain ours."
Ambree smiled a little. "That's understandable. I'll make sure it gets sent without any interference."
"Thank you, Ambree."
"Of course, Your Goodness."
"Glinda, please."
Ambree tilted her head a little. "Miss Glinda." She gave a tiny curtsy and took the letter before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
"Close enough," Glinda sighed. She pushed herself up from her desk and moved just far enough to fall onto the bed. Her exhaustion was back, heavier than ever, and even though it was barely evening, she curled up and pulled the covers around herself, fully intending on sleeping until morning.
Glinda woke early the next morning and stayed in bed, waiting for the knock that meant a handful of lady servants had arrived to prepare her for the day. She knew the routine well. They would help her dress and do her hair and make sure she was glowing and ready to meet the crowds of the Emerald City. It wasn't something she needed help with, but the choruses of Your Goodness reminded her that she never needed to lift a finger in this palace.
Until, of course, she was with Morrible. But, seeing as they would be surrounded by other people for the entire day, Madame Morrible was on her best behavior, allowing Glinda to be the same.
It was mid-morning when their carriage left the palace. This was another routine Glinda had grown accustomed to. They took the same carriage every time, and as they rode through the streets, people recognized it and called out her name. Glinda took a breath and leaned forward to smile and wave out the window, ignoring the look on Morrible's face every time she sat back again.
When they moved out of the upper districts, the Gale Force officers that were accompanying them moved closer. They trotted along right next to the carriage, making it harder to see the people lining up on the sides of the street. For a moment, Glinda was relieved.
"Mama, is that Glinda? Glinda the Good?"
"Yes, sweetie, that's her carriage."
Glinda peered out again and caught a glimpse of a little boy in dirty clothes beaming up at her. Her relief turned to guilt, and she put on her best smile and looked at the soldier outside her window.
She didn't even have to say anything. He caught her eye and blushed, pulling on the reins of his horse and backing up enough for her to see.
"Excuse me, Your Goodness," he mumbled, still blushing furiously.
"Oh, it's no trouble," she said sweetly. She looked back at the boy, who was half-running, half-skipping along the street to keep up with the carriage. She gave him a little wave, and he stopped, grinning wide and waving hard back at her.
The shelter they arrived at was small and run-down. Glinda let one of the Gale Force officers take her hand and help her out of the carriage, smiling brightly at him as she hopped down. He helped Morrible down, too, though he was far less enthusiastic about it.
Morrible led her inside and introduced her to the managers. All of the workers tripped over themselves to get a look at Glinda, and she gave them all a little wave before asking where she was needed. The owner seemed a little surprised, but she eventually convinced him to give her a job.
It was coming on noon, and people were pouring into the shelter, shuffling along with their ragged clothes and weary expressions. Glinda could tell immediately that they were under-staffed. She walked over to one of the Gale Force officers and touched his elbow.
"It's getting kind of crazy in here," she said. "You want to come help me?"
He chuckled a little. "Your Goodness, I'm here to protect you, not serve food to these people." He said people with a certain distaste, and the smile on Glinda's face became forced.
"It's crowded," she said nervously, though she felt perfectly safe. "I'd be more comfortable if someone was next to me."
He didn't even try to deny her. Glinda led him over to her spot in the serving line, and after a few more minutes, she got him to pick up his own ladle and help dish out soup to the crowds that passed in front of them.
Most of the people recognized her, and many lit up when they saw her. She smiled at them, let them clasp her hands and thank her and call her Your Goodness. When it was these people, when she was giving directly back to them, she didn't mind as much.
When the crowds had settled down again, a trio of little girls ran up to her. The Gale Force officer beside her tensed, but Glinda ignored him and knelt in front of the girls.
"Miss Glinda the Good, do you really live in the palace?"
"Do you have a pet horse?"
"Can you really do magic?"
"Oh, please do magic! Please?"
Glinda smiled and held up her hand, summoning a ball of light. It was the same pale pink as her flames, but completely harmless. The girls gasped and clapped, and a few more kids came running up, asking for more magic tricks.
Glinda ended up sitting at a table with them, levitating spoons and making shapes out of the steam that came from soup bowls. Parents and grandparents eventually came up, either to get their children and leave the shelter, or to stay and watch Glinda the Good.
"I want to thank you for all the good you do for this city," an older woman said to her. Glinda smiled and thanked her, but she felt a little hollow. All day long—just like with every trip like this—she hadn't seen a single Animal. She hadn't seen any Munchkins since her first weeks in the city, either. Maybe she was doing good, but not for everyone.
"Miss Glinda," a man said, tentatively, "What about the Witch?"
For a moment, Glinda couldn't breathe. She couldn't think of anything to say. She was struggling just to keep a calm expression.
"What's she done now?" someone asked. Another man pulled a newspaper out of his bag and set it on the table. Elphaba's picture was on the front, but Glinda couldn't bring herself to read the headline.
"She's terrorizing the city," a woman said. "What can we do to protect ourselves?"
Glinda swallowed. She knew they wanted a response, but the only thing she wanted to do was tell them how stupid they were. Elphaba would never hurt anyone. She's not the one they needed to protect themselves from.
For perhaps the first time in her life, Morrible came to Glinda's rescue. "The Wizard is doing all he can to fight the Wicked Witch." Her voice was confident, and everyone turned to watch her instead of Glinda. "Miss Glinda is a part of those efforts, of course, but we cannot speak openly of them. I'm sure you all understand."
The crowd nodded seriously and dissolved into separate discussions, swapping their own theories and stories about Elphaba. Glinda excused herself and left the table. She hadn't gone far when Morrible caught up to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"That was pathetic, Miss Glinda."
"What do you expect from me?" she asked in a whisper, looking down at her shoes.
"A little composure would be nice," Morrible hissed. She dug her fingers into Glinda's shoulder, then let her go and walked away.
Glinda did have composure. It was the only thing that kept her from telling all those people off. She took a deep breath and walked back to the counter of food to help the workers clean up. She stayed quiet, listening to their stories as they worked. About half an hour later, everything was put away and the shelter was mostly empty. Morrible shook the managers' hands and beckoned to Glinda.
On their way out, Glinda caught a glimpse of the newspaper still on the table. She glanced around, making sure no one was looking, then snatched it and rolled it up, sticking it into the sleeve of her coat.
When they arrived back at the palace, Glinda found herself alone with Morrible.
"Madame," she said quietly. "Something's been bothering me."
Morrible turned to face her, raising her eyebrows. Glinda hesitated, then pulled the newspaper out of her sleeve. Morrible took it from her.
"How many times have I told you," said Morrible. "Your devotion to her is going to get you in trouble."
Glinda stared at the ground between them. "Just…tell me. If you find her, what will you do to her?"
"Why, Miss Glinda. Are you thinking of turning her in?"
"Never," Glinda spat. "Not even if I knew where she was."
"How noble of you," Morrible said, rolling her eyes a bit. "But, since you're so curious. When Miss Elphaba is caught, she will be thrown in prison, where she will give us every piece of information she has about her little rebel friends."
Glinda let out a short laugh, despite it all. "That's a bit optimistic of you, don't you think?"
"I never said the information would come easily. Or painlessly," Morrible said. "Oh, don't look so horrified.
Glinda shook her head. "I won't let you hurt her," she whispered. Morrible scoffed.
"Are you going to stop us? You work for us, Glinda. You do what we tell you to."
"I won't let you hurt her," Glinda said again. She dug her nails into her palms, trying to stop the tears that were blurring her eyes.
"And what exactly are you going to do about it? How do you know she would even want your help? You're working for the people she's fighting. You betrayed her."
Glinda shook her head again, faster. She took this job to protect Elphaba. She only did it to help her. Morrible didn't know that, but she did.
And yet, the lines were starting to blur. The city loved her, looked up to her…expected her to hate Elphaba. That man today, at the shelter, he wanted her to tear Elphaba down. That was her job. That was why the Wizard had brought her here, created this image for her.
"No," Glinda breathed. A door opened nearby, and a couple dozen servants with food trays poured out, hurrying past them to get to the rest of the castle. Morrible stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Glinda, turning away from the servants and trapping her in place, and Glinda found herself shaking too hard to pull away.
"Really, my dear, I don't know what you expected," she said into Glinda's ear. "I remember the girl who first arrived at Shiz. Isn't this what she wanted? Pretty things, popularity, a chance to become a great sorceress?"
"No," Glinda repeated, leaning away.
"You stayed at Shiz instead of going with her. You continued to study sorcery. You agreed to come here and work for the Wizard." Morrible's words were a hiss, sending shivers down Glinda's spine and making her skin crawl. "When you did all that, isn't this what you wanted?"
Glinda pulled free and stared up at her, horrified. Horrified at what could happen to Elphie, horrified at everything Morrible had done and would do. Glinda tore her eyes away and hurried off. The hall was empty again, and her heels clipped against the stone floor, the sound bouncing off the walls before hitting her. She clapped her hands over her ears, whimpering.
Because most of all, she was horrified that Morrible may be right.