I don't own Wicked.

Part Two

The Emerald Cityhasn't changed much; I can see that right away. People are still running around bumping into each other, the buildings are just as tall and magnificent and everything is still...well, green. Even in the midst of what's happening, a small joy thrills through my veins as I remember the last time I was here and how happy I'd been when nobody stared at me.

No one had noticed me earlier either. When I discovered Glinda had gone, I was so angry and scared that I couldn't think straight. I scrawled a note to Fiyero telling him I was going to be gone for the day, grabbed my broom and left. I knew she was heading back to Oz, and within half an hour her shiny bubble came into sight. I kept my distance after that, but when she floated over and vanished among the green citadels I had dropped down into a meadow and walked the rest of the way. I was supposed to be dead, but seeing someone flying in on a broom was sure to raise alarm from the people who had experienced my "reign of terror". Admittedly, it had somehow become a sort of trademark of mine, the Witch of the West zooming around on her broom hexing people.

I head for the tower where I know Glinda lives. I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to do, but I know that those rebels will try to strike again. They'll want to catch her alone, and if they have half a brain between all of them they'll do it at night. I'll have to be on my guard.

The stars are shining overhead and I'm feeling sleepy when suddenly I hear something down below. I jerk awake and move to the roof's edge, clenching the Grimmerie tightly.

"Stupid blonde," mumbles a deep voice. "I dunno how she got away...them darned ravens near pecked my eyes out."

"It doesn't matter," hisses a younger-sounding male. "Kall and Tibbett took care of her guards; they won't be awake until midday at least. We have plenty of time to get in and give the Good Witch what she deserves." The malice in his voice makes my blood boil. "Now come on, Alaric."

Quietly I drop down to the balcony, wincing slightly as my knees crack. I'm getting too old for this, I think wryly before moving back into the shadows. I can see the door to Glinda's chambers from here, but they won't have a chance to get near it.

Agonizing minutes pass, and just as I'm about to lose control, the two rebels enter the hallway. As they near the door and the smaller man reaches for the doorknob, I take a deep breath, drop the broom and—

"Leave her alone!" someone yells, and to my absolute horror, Liir comes running in with his sword drawn. He leaps at the slight younger man first, but the bigger one, Alaric, grabs him in his powerful arms.

"Wha's this? A scrawny servant boy runnin' around like he thinks he's a soldier," he jeers. Liir struggles and lashes out, but the man strikes him in the back of the skull and he goes limp, unconscious. "What should I do with him, Freidle?"

"Kill him," the younger man says coldly. "Come in when you're done."

"Get your hands off of my son!" I snarl as I leap out. Alaric drops Liir and turns to face me, but I open the Grimmerie and read out a spell. Nothing happens at first, and I cringe, backing away as Alaric snorts and moves toward me. Come on, come on...

And suddenly Chistery, dear Chistery, flies in the window and lands on the big man's head, screeching like a lunatic. As he begins to pull Alaric's hair and lash his face with his tail, I turn around to confront Freidle—and freeze.

The blond man has one arm around Liir's neck and a short dagger pressed to his throat. "Call the beast off or your boy dies."

"Ch—Chistery?" My voice comes out wobbly, but he pauses all the same. "Chistery, stop. Leave Alaric alone." The flying monkey looks at me like I've lost my mind before hopping down and scurrying to my side.

"Now move against the wall and drop that book." He nods to the Grimmerie. I obey, and Alaric moves to take it before going over and picking up Liir's sword.

"Shoulda stayed home tonight, lady," he sneers, and thrusts the blade at me.