A faint light appeared on the horizon, the first tentative ray of the approaching dawn. It was, as it always had been, enough to wake Liir. But this morning he felt stiff and sore from the way he had slept. He groaned and got shakily to his feet. He turned his head and gave the old apple tree a critical look. He stretched his limbs, shaking the sleep from them.

He walked through the fading dark. Far off in the distance, their destination was now visible. The Cloister of Saint Glinda. Long ago, he had called the place home. There's no place like home, he thought wistfully. Now where have I heard that before? He shook his head and continued walking. In those days, he knew little of witches and even less of talking Scarecrows. Such a strange fate he had been dealt.

"Pealfruit," someone called from the shadows. Like a wraith, the Scarecrow emerged from a break in the trees. Liir stumbled back and fell. The strange creature loomed above him, at once frightening. Unnatural, even for Oz.

"Careful now," it said, with a soft chuckle. It extended it's arm, holding it out for him.

Liir pushed it roughly away and jumped to his feet. "Don't touch me," he spat at it. And he ran.

It was an understandable reaction, Fiyero supposed. But that did not make it any easier to take. He stood up straight and looked in the direction that Liir had run. But the boy was gone.

Elphaba had slept surprisingly well. She sat up with a stretch and a yawn.

Liir stalked past her looking sour. He grabbed his small carry-bag and threw it over his shoulder.

"What happened," she murmured, sleepily.

But before he could answer, Fiyero rejoined them.

"You're awake," he said. He smiled at her but it didn't reach his eyes. This gave her pause. Maybe it was an effect of the synthetic features. She tried to dismiss it but couldn't. She knew her Fiyero too well. Something was clearly troubling him. He looked quickly away. "Lets get moving. We should get there by noon," he told them.

Elphaba followed saying nothing. For now.

With every step the mauntery grew closer. As it loomed in the distance, Elphaba decided it was time to press him for information. "What happened with Liir?"

"Oh, t'was nothing," he said, with a feeble laugh.

"Of course not. Obviously nothing. Must be my imagination that you two won't look at each other now."

"Must be."

She made an exasperated noise. "Yero, come on."

But he continued to dismiss it, "It's nothing to worry about. Really, Elphie. As soon as we get this spell lifted everything will be fine."

"If you say so." She gave the maunteryl a foreboding look

"Are you sure he's my son," Fiyero blurted out.

She turned an icy glare on him. "What do you mean? Do you think that I am the type to go run off with any and every boy I see?"

"Wow, could that have come out more wrong? I'm guessing not," he said with a nervous laugh.

But she countinued to give him a haughty look.

"He looks nothing like me. Of course he wouldn't now. But I mean before. Hell, he doesn't even look like you."

"He's our son, Yero."

Her voice was still stiff, but atleast she was calling him Yero. That counted for something. He relaxed, but not by much. It was still prudent to tread carefully around her in times such as these. "Maybe someone switched him at birth and our real son is still out there...somewhere."

She stared at him for a moment, with an odd look on her face. He was certain that she would set him on fire. For what? The third time now. I do like the smell of burning straw. Although not so much when it's me. But then she began to laugh.

He laughed too, with a wary glance at her. At first cautious, but gradually more unrestricted.

Liir scowled at the two of them. He knew nothing of the conversation and prefered it that way. Both of them were raving mad in his opinion.

Less than fifty yards from the mauntery, Elphaba suddenly came to a halt. She looked to Fiyero. "Okay, so now that we're here, what do we do now?"

He gave her a blank look. "I was hoping you would tell me."

She stared at him incredolous. "This was your idea."

He was silent for a few beats. "Sanctuary?"

She smiled. "Of course. We could claim sanctuary. Then I am free to be the Wicked Witch, or hell, Lurline herself. And there's not a damn thing they can do about it. Brilliant Yero."