Chapter Ten has arrived! Party time! hands out cheap party favors Well, I hope you guys are all still enjoying this story, and thanks again for reading!

The-Good-Die-Alone: I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I completely agree with you on the wrongness of mistreatment of animals. Seeing poorly cared-for animals makes me want to hurt something. Preferably something that can apologize for its meaness. ;D

elphabathedelirious32: My imagery thanks you for your kindness. )

The Phantom's Muse: I'm so glad that you found my story and are enjoying it so far! Well, here's the update you asked for! )

Disclaimer: Well, let's recap shall we? I haven't owned Wicked for the last 9 chapters, but something could have changed, right? Lemme check. pause Oh. Nope, I still don't own it.

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Ayenna was still refusing to speak to Dhert, or Glinda either, for that matter. She just kept her eyes on the ground, which was just as well, because the sun was so bright that it was the only place one could look without their eyes streaming. The heat of the Glikkus matched the dazzling sunlight. Ayenna's horse was sweating like, well, a horse. At first, she had refused to ride it, reluctant to cause the creature more pain than absolutely necessary, but after a few hours, her tired legs, the heat, and Glinda's constant comments about her being ridiculous convinced her to ride it.

Suddenly, an awful thought popped into her head, and Ayenna spoke for the first time in hours.

"Glinda, how are we going to find my parents?"

"Well, I think we should just keep heading toward the mountains. We'll find them eventually," Glinda said evasively.

"You mean, you have no idea where they are!"

"Well, they are in hiding. And no, they didn't exactly give me directions."

"So, this is a fool's errand! They don't want to be found, Glinda. Don't you get that?"

"Ayenna, don't worry. I know your mother. We'll find her," Glinda said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. In truth, she hadn't even thought about how they would find them in this expansive wasteland.

Ayenna rolled her eyes. The day's events and the never-ending travel had put her in an increasingly bad mood. She was also annoyed with herself. She could not work out what she felt for Dhert, and she had never been in doubt of her feelings of a person before. She got a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever he looked at her, and she wanted to know what it meant. She had a feeling that she knew, but that just made her angrier. She couldn't like the boy. She could never like anyone. She had decided that years ago. After all, she was bound to be rejected; why put herself through that torture? But, despite what her logical side was saying, her emotional side refused to listen.

She squinted and looked up. They had been riding for what seemed like ages, but the mountains, which she had learned were called The Scalps, didn't seem to have gotten any closer. She sighed and gasped as an enormous bead of her horse's sweat rolled onto her leg. She had been extremely careful not to let herself brush against his soaking coat, but it seemed impossible. She gritted her teeth as the single drop burned through several layers of emerald skin.

Dhert, who was riding in the back of the group, in front of only the horse that they had fixed the luggage to, had not taken his eyes off Ayenna's back the entire journey. He winced with her when he saw what the sweat had done to her. She was definitely different. The temper that he had seen her display for the sake of an animal only made him more attracted to her. But he sighed almost inaudibly when he remembered how she had looked at him. She didn't like him, not the way he liked her. He thought that he would be lucky if she even tolerated him.

All three breathed a collective sigh of relief when evening finally came and the sun started going down. The absence of the sun made the temperature cool, even pleasant. Ayenna and Dhert were both glad when Glinda announced that they were stopping for the night when they came to the first sign of life since the tiny village they got the horses from. This second village was even smaller than the first, and boasted only one inn. It was actually someone's home, but the two guest bedrooms for rent made it a veritable four-star hotel. They rented both rooms, and Glinda and Ayenna took the larger one, leaving the smaller one that had a single bed for Dhert. Despite the lumpy mattresses and lack of creature comforts, they all fell asleep quickly. Traveling was exhausting.

Dhert woke with a start in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat. He vaguely remembered a nightmare, but what it had been about, he had no idea. He got up, went outdoors, and got himself some water from the rusting pump. As he went back to his room, he glanced in the girls' room. In the dark he could just make out the sleeping form of Glinda, her golden curls splayed on the pillow, and across the room, Ayenna. His breath caught in his throat as he noted her rising and falling chest and her emerald features. He stared for a few moments, then caught himself and went back to bed.

Dhert was the first to rise the next morning, but he felt distinctly uncomfortable about going into the girls' room to wake them up. So, he decided to go out and interview some of the villagers for the article they were supposed to be writing for the Gazette. Once he was dressed and had been supplied with a meager breakfast from the house owner's wife, he made his way out into the street.

Regardless of its size, the town had many people living in it, and there seemed to be no end to the sticky-faced children who looked at him with wide, wide eyes. This, he realized, was poverty. Many of the larger houses were something like hovels, and the smaller houses couldn't even be considered that. He could also tell that this place had been ravaged by war, and not too long ago, either. Several buildings were burned, and he could see a man digging a mass grave with plenty of bodies stacked up to go into it. It was the gravedigger that he decided to interview first.

"Excuse me, Sir, I was wondering if--" he started once he had reached the graveyard.

"Sorry, kid, I'm kind of busy," the man said, but not unkindly.

"No, please, Sir, it is for a newspaper article back in the Emerald City."

"The Emerald City, huh?" the man said, leaning on his shovel and wiping his face with a sleeve, "Why did you come all the way out here for a newspaper article?"

Dhert tried to ignore the pile of festering bodies behind the man and said, "Well, people need to know what's going on. Besides, with knowledge comes change."

"Wise words. Ok, do you just want me to answer some questions?"

"Yes, please."

"Ask away, then."

"Well, I don't actually know anything about these riots you are having, so can you just give me a general outline of them?" Dhert asked.

"Well, I don't think 'riots' is the right word. Maybe a few months ago it was, but now the correct word is 'war,'" the man said with a sigh, "You see, ever since the Glikkus was created, there have been fights about whether it should be Gillikinese, Munchkinlander, or its own separate state. Almost all the people who live in the Glikkus are from one of those places or have ancestors that came from there. Recently, the petty barroom fights escalated into full-scale battles."

"That's all? You can't decide what state you are a part of?" Dhert asked incredulously.

"Aye. It's a bit silly, really. Honestly, I think most of the ones who started it just wanted something to fight about. It gave them an excuse to start it all. Then, our boys and men got drafted and went to fight. I guess that's how wars start, with the stupidity of a few key people. The Glikkus isn't that well off, though, and this certainly isn't going to help anything."

Dhert nodded.

"I mean, look at all these bodies," the gravedigger said, gesturing behind him, "Among them is my own son. My only son."

"I am so sorry," Dhert said sincerely, "Thank you so much for your time, but I have to go."

The man went back to his work, and Dhert left, feeling heavy-hearted. He trudged to the pub, knowing he would get a good interview or two from there.

He opened the heavy tavern door and stepped into a musty, dim room that smelled of alcohol. Several men and a few Animals, namely a Leopard, a Gazelle, and a Polar Bear, sat around tables, nursing drinks and glowering at no one in particular. It was the quietest pub Dhert had ever entered. He sat down at the table that was hosting one of the men and the Gazelle.

"Would you mind answering some questions for a newspaper article?" he asked the man.

The man just looked at him, glared, and then got up and left.

"I will answer your questions," the Gazelle said.

"Thank you," Dhert said gratefully, "I was wondering if you could tell me whether you think the Glikkus should be part of Gillikin or Munchkinland."

The Gazelle opened his mouth to answer, but a barrel-chested man sitting a table over beat him to it.

"Everyone with sense knows the Glikkus should be Gillikinese," he said.

Murmurs of agreement ensued, but one voice called above the others.

"It needs to be Munchkinlander," the voice belonged to another man, one whose short stature said clearer than any words where he was from.

Heads throughout the tavern swiveled to look at the Munchkin. Most were glaring and the Leopard made a deep growling noise from the back of its throat.

Dhert, who could see that a brawl was going to proceed, quickly got up and left. He hadn't made it halfway down the street before the yelling started. He was glad he had gotten away.