The Witches of Oz

The only road in the south of the Land of Oz had fallen into disrepair many years ago, around the same time the ruby mines had run dry and the northern miners returned to their homes leaving the Quadlings to tend their ruined lands as best they could.

In the time when Elphaba and Fiyero followed the road it was the only sign that civilisation, such as it was, had ever visited the wild southern jungles and the jungle had nearly reclaimed even that with tree roots tunnelling under and cracking the bricks so that it was impossible to talk while walking along the road unless a person fancied breaking an ankle on the uneven ground.

Halfway to the city, according to Kerrin's map anyway – the wilderness all looked the same to those who had never been there, it occurred to Fiyero that the Wizard's government had an embassy in Qhoyre and that the embassy had a contingent of the Wizard's Guards attached to it, all of whom were well aware of what the most wanted woman in Oz looked like. The thought brought him to a complete halt that caught Elphaba’s attention and she stopped as well.

“Something wrong?” she asked, sounding concerned. “Did you fall?”

“No,” replied Fiyero, shaking his head for added emphasis. “I was just thinking.”

“Well no wonder you had to stop,” teased Elphaba, because she couldn't possibly let such a remark pass with no comment. “May I ask what about? Something deep and meaningful from your expression.”

“It's just...”

“Yes?”

Fiyero hesitated because he didn't want Elphaba to feel like he was questioning her decision but he did feel he had a valid point and maybe if he spoke up she would actually share her plans with him.

“Well are we really going to just walk into a city that houses two dozen of the Wizard's Guards, not to mention the staff of the Wizard's Embassy, who all know what you look like?”

“Well of course not! Whatever gave you such a ludicrous idea?”

“Maybe the fact you haven't told me what we are doing?” replied Fiyero mildly.

He couldn't help smiling at Elphaba's reaction, she didn't say anything but the expressions on her face were easy enough to read: mild confusion followed by the realisation that he was right and then she looked down and shook her head slowly.

“I didn't and I'm sorry,” she said quietly. “I'm so used to working alone or, if I am with someone else, to having them already been told to follow me and do as I say. I truly wasn't thinking when we set out, that you might want more explanation than 'we're going to Qhoyre'. Can you forgive me for being so thoughtless?”

“You being thoughtless, that is an interesting turnaround.”

Fiyero made a joke of his answer to show that he wasn't upset about not being told what was going on and hoped she could tell he just wanted to know now what was happening.

“It happens more often than you'd think,” murmured Elphaba, so softly he could barely hear her. “But this is hardly the place to start a discussion like that.”

“Not at all,” agreed Fiyero. “You were starting to tell me how we're getting into see the Sorceress without getting caught?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about home when I was small, more to keep it real for herself I think. She told me about the MarhnaTherin, that’s what they call this road, and the KhinanaTherin, which was built by the Kitherin who came here to mine the rubies. Now only the Sorceress, if there is one, lives in Qhoyre along with such people as wish to spend a season or some as her attendants and the representatives of the central government, I hear they change quite frequently and it’s considered one of the worst places an official can be assigned to. Anyway, my mother told me about the entrance most of the Therin use when they go to attend the Sorceress. They don’t like entering the city so they use a gate in the south wall that leads directly into the palace gardens; the palace wasn’t built by foreigners you see so it’s not like really being in the city and outsiders are only allowed in the building not the garden.”

“Aren’t we outsiders though?” pointed out Fiyero, even though he was slightly overwhelmed by the information.

“We are invited,” replied Elphaba. “Well I was anyway. Besides, my mother was Therin for all that she was only half Quadling and she told me that even if I never came here at all in my life I would still be Therinquhar and that means I’m welcome here.”

“You used that word before, the first one, but I’ve never heard it.”

“Therin? It means… well it sort of means Quadlings, it’s their name for themselves but it doesn’t really have a direct translation – maybe ‘the people’ would be the closest.”

“I understand that,” said Fiyero with a nod. “We have a word like that ourselves, which outsiders translate as the people, Alhyrenedtshadar. It actually means something like ‘heart of the land’ and it’s to do with the concept that a nation does not require the literal land to stay alive. What about those other words you used?”

“Kitherin is ‘not-people’, to give it the most basic meaning, and Therinquhar is someone who is Therin but not born and raised here.”

“So you’re saying they will think of you as a Quadling even though you weren’t born here?” asked Fiyero, to make sure he understood the explanation properly.

“Precisely,” agreed Elphaba. “And of course only someone who was Therin or Therinquhar would know about the back door of the palace.”

“So how do we find this back door? If it’s well hidden enough that the Guards can’t find it.”

“With all due respect to you, Fiyero, most of the Wizard’s Guards are so incompetent they couldn’t find... well me for a start and I’m not exactly easy to mistake for someone else. But should someone possessing average intelligence hear of a secret path they wouldn't be able to find it because it's marked by a certain kind of tree.”

“There are different kinds?” repeated Fiyero, realising as soon as he said it that he was proving Elphaba's point for her, the trees all looked the same to him – he'd only recognised the fruit tree because it was one that also grew on the Arjiki/Quadling border.

“Yes,” replied Elphaba, smiling. “I'll tell you when I see it, my mother had one in her garden in Munchkinland.”

Even after Elphaba pointed them out to him the trees still looked all the same to Fiyero and he happily let Elphaba lead the way since she seemed confident of where she was going. Sure enough they reached a gate, which opened soundlessly when Elphaba pushed it, and entered a garden.

“This is a garden?” asked Fiyero, who was used to the Gillikinese style of formal gardens, to him this looked like another part of the jungle.

“It is here,” replied Elphaba, equally surprised then amused with herself for expecting a Gillikinese garden. “Come on, let's see if we can find someone to give us directions.”

It turned out that the directions were not necessary as the very first person they came across, a woman sitting cross-legged on the ground and apparently speaking quietly to a nearby tree, was none other than the Sorceress herself. She heard their footsteps and stood up, thinking they were fellow residents of the palace. Kynahna turned around and her face went as pale as a Quadling's could when she saw the green witch of her dream standing before her after she had decided that the woman was one of the illusions that were a hazard of the waking dreams.

“You!” she exclaimed in Ozian. “Here, in this place? When a dream I thought you to be!”

“Well if you want us to leave...” said Elphaba, hastily moving back towards the door.

“No, no, stay. A person welcome be where a dream is not.”

“Perhaps,” suggested Elphaba, speaking in Quadling to the further shock of the Quadling Sorceress. “It would be easier for us to converse in this language, even though it is somewhat impolite to my companion.”

The Sorceress recovered her composure somewhat and inclined her head slightly.

“Perhaps,” she replied in the same language. “You would introduce your companion to me that I may see if he truly does not object.”

“Prince Fiyero Tiggular, this is Lady Kynahna, the Sorceress of the South, and unless the name is common here I believe the two of you are already acquainted.”

“We are so, at that,” said Kynahna with a smile at the memory of her young self daring the Prince to kiss her. “And now by marriage cousins, the cousin of my mother was Kh’ya’s grandmother. The sorrow of her loss is shared by all as is the sorrow of all.”

“Thank you,” said Fiyero quietly. “Would you mind if I waited over there while the two of you talk?”

“If impolite you do not find us to be when we speak in a language not spoken by yourself.”

“Not at all,” said Fiyero cheerfully. “Magic is a bit beyond my understanding in any case.”

“A very understanding companion you have brought with you,” remarked Kynahna, switching back to Quadling.

“He is,” agreed Elphaba.

“And is that all he is, a companion?”

“We walk life's path together for now,” answered Elphaba, somewhat irritated by the other woman's curiosity. “Who can say what tomorrow will bring?”

“The future is indeed a land undiscovered for all that there are those who can glimpse it.”

“For all the good it does them,” muttered Elphaba, thinking bitterly of her own vision of the future back at Shiz.

“To the matter at hand then,” suggested Kynahna, picking up Elphaba's mood. “You know of this evil that approaches the land from two sides?”

“I have learned more since last we spoke. It is allied with the witch who calls herself Madame Morrible, a supposed servant of the Wizard of Oz. I do not know what she will gain from it but she spoke of it being soon able to enter Oz and destroy what it would. I think it somehow needs her to let it into Oz, it can't enter on its own except through the... what was it you called it? Waking dream?”

“So this Morrible must be stopped, but how? For all that I am fully trained in my powers they are the powers of a Quadling and of little use against the power I have felt in the north. For all that you have the power of the waking dream and the northern magic I think you are not trained so what chance do you have against one who is?”

“For one thing,” said Elphaba, speaking calmly despite the fact she felt extremely offended by Kynahna's lack of confidence in her abilities when there was no evidence either way. “I don't exactly intend to challenge her to a magical duel. You know, of course, of the rebellion against the Wizard's rule? I can’t tell you their exact plan but they have a way to remove the Wizard from power that they will be putting into effect very soon. In the meantime I will do something magically noisy to get Morrible's attention and I can certainly assure you that the balance of power in Oz is going to change very soon.”

There was something, a certain confidence, in Elphaba’s voice as she offered that assurance that made Kynahna look closely at her for a moment.

“You are certain of this. Very well, what can I do to protect my people?”

“Call them home, if there are any away from here. Be very wary of any kind of offer from the Wizard. Do as you have been doing and offer safe haven to the Animals of Oz, it may be some time before it’s safe for them in the North.”

“Do you have long to stay here?” enquired Kynahna, for Quadlings lack of argument with a statement was the same as an agreement.

“Perhaps a day or two at the most,” replied Elphaba. “May I ask why you wish to know?”

“First because the Wizard has sent extra “representatives” with the request that they be allowed to set up a “telescope” on the roof of the tallest building in Qhoyre to keep watch for the 'witch of the west' as they referred to you. Second because if you have time I will teach you the very basics of the other kind of Quadling magic, that is if you have time to learn control.”

“There is always time to learn control,” replied Elphaba, stiffly formal, control of her magic (and her temper) had always been a sore point for her. “I am grateful that you would take the time to share your wisdom.”

“To teach is to learn,” Kynahna quoted a Quadling proverb. “And one should always be willing to learn.”

“But do you have time to teach me anything? There is only an hour or less until the sun sets.”

“I will show you, today, only the most basic magic, which every Quadling child of ten or more can do. How to make a plant bloom out of its season. When we are older we can all do this for many plants, that is why there is only one season here.”

Despite her irritation Elphaba found herself fascinated as Kynahna explained how the Quadlings shared their life force with the plants for the benefit of everything living in the jungle.

“You say every Quadling has this power, what makes you special then? I don't intend to insult you,” she added, realising how brusque she sounded. “I am genuinely curious to know my mother's people choose their ruler.”

“I was not 'chosen' I have known, for as long as I can remember, that I was the one who would be Kinhara Dhiyalinma.”

“I'm sorry,” said Elphaba, shaking her head. “I do not know those words you just used.”

“I am the one who guides the people, who speaks on their behalf to the outsiders, who protects them – as best I can. As for what makes me different from everyone else…there are things I have the capabilities to do that they do not but I can not tell you what these things are because I have never been called upon to use that power.”

Something about her words sent a familiar shiver down Elphaba’s spine and she swayed slightly as a short vision overwhelmed her.

“You will be called, Sorceress,” she informed Kynahna, who stared at the blank eyed Elphaba. “You will be called to defend your people with all of your power and theirs.”

“I will answer that call,” promised Kynahna solemnly, despite the fact she suspected Elphaba was in some kind of trance state. “I do swear it, on behalf of all of our people.”

Elphaba shuddered and blinked several times before making eye contact with Kynahna.

“I hear your promise,” she said slowly, indicating that she remembered at least part of what had happened. “Though I could not tell you what you have committed yourself to, if anything at all. The paths are…diverse.”

“Paths?” repeated Kynahna, obviously puzzled.

“The directions the future might take, the most common analogy I have heard for it is that it is like looking down a road and seeing the possible forks and pitfalls along the way. We may one day stand together to protect Oz or we may never meet again after this day. All I see is fragments, like trying to look through fog to continue the road analogy, I don’t see how to get there or how to avoid going and, as far as I know, there are no others who share this ‘gift’ of foresight whose advice I might ask. I suppose it’s too much to ask that you know of anyone?”

“To see the future is, as far as my knowledge extends, not a power the Quadling people are cursed with – though we do hold it to be a curse because the ‘fog’ of which you spoke is mentioned in our histories of magic in this land. The power of seeing what has past is one that does occur in our people, perhaps once a century on average, but the last one to hold such power died many years ago during a time of plague.”

“I believe I know the time you speak of, my mother’s sister died of it and later my mother’s mother.”

“Indeed, many of the Northerners who lived here at that time were lost to the illness. Is that how you come to speak our language so well?”

“Well,” replied Elphaba, speaking slowly as if she were considering the question carefully. “Being that my mother’s mother was one of the People may have helped. Did you not wonder how we knew of the gate from outside?”

“I did not see where you entered from and I was startled by the fact you were not a creation of my waking dream – it did not occur to me to think of it until you spoke of it. May I know the names of your family?”

“Mother’s mother was Liana, daughter of Sikhara. Her husband, in the Northern fashion, was a rather grumpy missionary whom I did not even know was alive until these very days that have just passed. My mother was Melena, daughter of Liana, whose husband was called Frex.”

“Yes, I do recall that you are daughter and sister of the Governors of Munchkinland.”

“Nessarose and I were both the daughters of Melena, beyond that I make no claims,” retorted Elphaba, regretting the words the instant she said them. “But no one knows that Frex was not my father so it would be much appreciated if you did not share it with anyone.”

“As you wish, of course,” agreed Kynahna, being a Quadling she did not put much stock in the notion of fathers, as far as her people were concerned a child was the child of its mother. “May I ask, did your mother not tell you who he was, if not the man she married in their strange fashion?”

“She didn’t tell me at all,” replied Elphaba. “I…I saw it…in my head. Frex left her alone somewhere then a man, a stranger came in from a storm and gave her something very… green to drink. I don’t know who he was but you can see for yourself the results of his potion.”

“No doubt neither of them could guess what they had wrought when they passed a stormy night together,” remarked Kynahna. “Such an event is one that has a hint of destiny about it.”

“I don’t believe in destiny,” was Elphaba’s instant reply. “And if I was so inclined I could only believe that it was some grand cosmic jest that brought my parents together. Now are you going to teach me Quadling magic or not?”

The abrupt response and sudden rudeness made Kynahna raise her eyebrows slightly then she shrugged and nodded slightly.

“As I offered, I shall. The theory is simple, one must simply want the plants to be well and let that will flow through you as magic. Come and I will demonstrate with the roses.”

Kynahna led the way across the garden and paused for a moment to invite Fiyero to join them for the demonstration, which Elphaba felt was rather highhanded of her.

“How’s it going?” he murmured as he took Elphaba’s hand in his to follow the Quadling sorceress.

“I lost my temper a little,” admitted Elphaba, obviously embarrassed. “But she doesn’t seem too offended. She still wants to show me Quadling magic.”

“It didn’t sound like you were yelling,” joked Fiyero.

“I don’t always yell when I lose my temper,” replied Elphaba. “Do you think…would you mind, when she asks me to do whatever she shows me, could you not watch me?”

“You let me watch at Kiamo Ko,” said Fiyero, not refusing but curious.

“Yes, but I knew what I was doing there,” she explained quietly. “I’ve never done this before.”

“You’re shy?” exclaimed Fiyero. “Really?”

“Yes!” she replied on the heels of his exclamation. “I don’t like it when people look at me and prefer to avoid it wherever possible. It’s bad enough that Kynahna, who is an expert at this, is going to be watching me!”

“I knew you didn’t like…I just thought…don’t worry about it, it’s not important.”

With that he pulled away and went to stand next to Kynahna, who seemed unaware of their quiet albeit intense conversation.

Oh! He thinks I meant I think of him like everyone else! realised Elphaba as she followed him to where Kynahna was getting ready for her demonstration. For the love of– why can’t I think before I speak?

Now that she had realised what the problem was there was no opportunity to rectify it because Kynahna had already started her explanation.

“See,” she said in Quadling, trusting that it would be enough for Fiyero to see the results and better for her to explain in her native language. “The plant is in its winter slumber, its life energy is low and barely visible to the second sight. Even in full bloom the energy it needs to live is a mere fraction of what a human has – no more than you would lose by scratching your hand on a thorn. So all one has to do to make the plant bloom is separate a drop of their life force from their Self and give it to the plant. I should have asked, you do have the second sight?”

“If, by that, you mean the ability to see magic then yes I do.”

“Good, watch what I do using that sight.”

What she did looked straightforward enough to Elphaba, though it obviously required a degree of finesse that Elphaba just wasn’t sure she possessed. Kynahna simply separated that tiny piece of magic/life force from herself and offered it to the plant then the plant’s life force, formerly a faint glow at the base of its stem, burst into light and spread through the entire plant.

To Fiyero, who couldn’t see the magic, it looked as though Kynahna just reached out and touched the rose bush, which promptly burst into full bloom and filled the air with the perfume of roses.

“That’s amazing,” he said to Kynahna. “I had no idea your people could do this.”

“For your people such magic would be not useful,” replied Kynahna. “Your grasslands, too tenacious to need such assistance as the power of my people.”

Fiyero chuckled and nodded in agreement; his people had been known to refer to their home as ‘the unkillable grasslands’ particularly when trying to clear land for temporary settlements.

“Shall I demonstrate again?” offered Kynahna in Quadling.

“I saw how you did it,” replied Elphaba sharply, somewhat distracted by the fact that she found herself feeling bitterly jealous of the fact that Fiyero had shared a simple joke with Kynahna!

“Very well,” agreed Kynahna. She pointed to a clinging vine hanging from a nearby tree. “This is the Yessyma vine, which grows all through the South. Show me what you have learned.”

Elphaba took a deep breath and looked carefully at the vine before closing her eyes to visualise the magic process. Less than a moment later she opened her eyes again and nervously asked Kynahna what would happen if she got it wrong.

“No harm can be done with Quadling magic,” replied the Sorceress, reassuring and a little scathing at the same time.

“Well that does make me feel better,” muttered Elphaba, closing her eyes again and missing the slight frown on Kynahna’s face.

She recalled exactly where the plant was and it was easier to visualise a magical pinprick releasing a single drop of life/magic if she couldn’t see everything around her. Concentrating as hard as she could on getting this right so she wouldn’t make a fool of herself, and repeating the words ‘make the Yessyma vine bloom’, Elphaba reached out with her magic until she felt the gentle life energy of the plant and then released the energy she had been holding onto. All at once the perfume of the flower overwhelmed her and Elphaba felt inexplicably weakened by something that was supposed to be so simple – the only explanation she could think of was that she had somehow gotten it wrong.

“What did I do wrong?” she asked Kynahna, sighing as she opened her eyes slowly.

“Wrong is not the exact word I would use,” replied Kynahna, her voice flat with shock.

“You sound like I did some– oh!”

Halfway through her snappy response Elphaba realised that every Yessyma vine in the garden had bloomed. Hearing her exclamation Fiyero tore his attention away from the flowers and, forgetting to be annoyed, spoke to her.

“Is this not what you were supposed to do?”

“Not exactly,” replied Elphaba with a weak smile. “It was supposed to be one plant not the whole garden.”

“Not just the garden,” said Kynahna quietly in Quadling.

“What do you mean?” asked Elphaba, switching languages easily.

“It shouldn’t be possible, I don’t understand how you even did it!”

“Did what?”

“What’s going on?” interjected Fiyero.

“I think I surprised Kynahna, by making all of the flowers bloom here.”

“Not just here,” repeated Kynahna, this time in Ozian. “Everywhere, all of them.”

“What do you mean all of them?” said Elphaba sceptically. “That’s not possible, I mean as far as I can tell from what you told me.”

“Until now the same would be said, by anyone. Not possible but you did it.”

“You’d be surprised how often that happens to me,” replied Elphaba in a tone far more causal than her mood. “Benati kiha jihankito vena benati jhes.”

“I do not know these words,” said Kynahna, and frowned slightly because she had though she knew all of the primary languages of Oz – those being Quadling, Arjiki, and Ozian.

“It’s a Ziansa proverb,” said Fiyero, correctly interpreting Kynahna’s confusion despite his complete inability to understand Quadling. “They live in the farthest west of the Vinkus and have hardly any contact with anyone. I understand it to mean something like ‘everything is possible until proven otherwise’ – where did you learn it?”

“One of my fellow revolutionaries is of their people,” explained Elphaba simply. “Sometimes there was nothing to do but wait for things to happen, or not happen, so we would talk about philosophy and that sort of thing. He taught me some of their language, told me some of their legends and histories – it passed the time.”

“I see,” replied Fiyero in an oddly tense tone, making Elphaba wonder what she had done (now) to upset him.

“Tell me exactly what you did?” requested Kynahna, ruining any chance Elphaba had of talking to Fiyero now.

“I did exactly what you told me to, so kindly do not take that interrogatory tone with me!” she answered the Quadling woman in a cold, almost, clinical tone that didn’t alter in pitch despite the fact she was angry. “If you had bothered to ask I could have told that I have already worked out the technicality of how this happened, even though I do not know how I was able to do something that is supposed to be impossible.”

“If you know then by all means tell.”

“It’s quite simple really,” replied Elphaba smugly. “When you instructed me you said ‘make the Yessyma vine bloom’ and while I knew you meant this vine right in front of us when I actually used the magic I had the phrase you used in my mind and was thinking literally those words. Magic has no mind of its own, you know, so really it was just doing what I told it to.”

“What did you say to her?” demanded Fiyero when he saw Kynahna turn as pale as a Quadling could. He didn’t mean to imply that Elphaba had deliberately hurt the other woman but somehow it sounded that way.

“Surprised is all,” replied Kynahna carefully, giving Elphaba time to repress the urge to start yelling at him. “Something unexpected was said, no harm is done.”

Fate seemed to be smiling on Fiyero for a moment – just as Elphaba made up her mind that she would say something, no matter who was there, someone else entered the garden. A Quadling man who took no notice of the strangers beyond a polite nod before he addressed Kynahna.

“The Northern men have arrived to put their equipment upon the roof, as requested and allowed.”

“The Wizard’s men are here,” translated Elphaba quickly for Fiyero’s benefit. “Time to leave.”

“Of course,” said Fiyero, looking a little puzzled because it almost sounded like a question.

“Admit the Northerners and offer them refreshment,” instructed Kynahna before turning to Elphaba and switching to Ozian so they would both understand her. “North and west from here, for three hours walk, is the house of Johren who will give to you food and shelter for this night coming. Half of an hour it takes for hospitality, half of an hour takes you beyond sight of this place.”

“Thank you,” said Elphaba with a nod, understanding that the Quadling woman meant to actively protect them from being seen by the soldiers in the only way she could.

Elphaba made her way to the gate, resisting the urge to look behind and see if Fiyero really was following, just as it closed behind the two of them Kynahna called something out in Quadling that made Elphaba chuckle slightly.

“What did she say?” asked Fiyero curiously.

“That she would come when she was called but that wasn’t what made me laugh, she used a word that means something like sister – given my relationship with my only sibling I found it slightly ironic.”

“Elphaba…” began Fiyero, trying to think of an original way to say ‘we need to talk’.

“I know,” she replied, meaning ‘I know what you’re trying to say’. “Do you really think this is the time?”

“No, probably not,” he agreed reluctantly.

Two hours later they were deep in the jungle and only Elphaba’s brief assurance that yes she really did know where they were going had broken the silence so far. By some unspoken but mutual decision they stopped walking to look at each other.

“Fiyero…” began Elphaba just as he said “Elphaba…”

“You first,” they insisted at the same time and both smiled slightly. There was another awkward silence, clearly neither of them really wanted to speak first, then Elphaba spoke – about half a second before Fiyero, who had just come to the same decision to speak first.

“ I’m really too…oh Oz I don’t know, tired? Worn out? Whatever it is, to argue with you so I’m just going to come straight to the point. I didn’t mean to imply that you were like everyone else when I asked you not to watch me learning magic and I’m truly sorry that I hurt your feelings by doing that. It’s just…I suppose I’m just so used to giving the appearance that I know what I’m doing to and maybe I didn’t want you to realise that a lot of the time I’m just making it up as I go along, which is really all a person can do in some events.”

Elphaba took a deep breath and continued before Fiyero could reply.

“And I would very much like you to know that I did not deliberately insult Kynahna, when you asked me what I said to her, all I did was explain why the spell I cast went wrong. Fortunately for you two hours of trekking through this…muck have cooled my temper considerably and I choose to assume now that you spoke without thinking rather than shouting at you first.”

Those same two hours of trekking through the swamp had given Fiyero plenty of time to think about the events of the afternoon and frankly he was quite grateful that they weren’t going to argue.

“I only said it like that because I was angry,” explained Fiyero. “But not about you not wanting me to watch you being taught. No, I was madly jealous thinking about how that cursed handsome – they all are, you know – Ziansa fellow has had so much more of your company than I have and wondering…well wondering what sort of relationship the two of you had.”

“I don’t know what you…oh…”

The nearly horrified expression on Elphaba’s’ face answered his question far better than any words could have.

“Not at all what you’re thinking,” she insisted, shaking her head. “That’s just…no. The only reason he’s even in Oz is because he’s looking for a girl. The girl of his dreams in a rather literal fashion, he calls her ‘the captive princess’, and the tribe’s… Dreamspeaker told him that to free her he would have to help free Oz. It makes me feel better about being jealous of Kynahna though.”

That last sentence, almost an afterthought on Elphaba’s part, was the one that caught Fiyero’s attention far more completely than the revelation that she wasn’t in love with someone else.

“Sorry. Did you just say you were jealous of Kynahna? Why in Oz would you be jealous of her?”

“Well,” replied Elphaba, who had been pondering the question herself. “At first I thought it was just because you were so comfortable when you were joking with her, maybe because you could predict how she would react to things unlike me, but then I realised it was even simpler and frankly much more embarrassing than that. She was the first girl you ever kissed and I, for who knows what irrational reason, wish that I’d been that girl.”

“Elphaba,” he said her name and stopped, not sure how to express himself properly. Quickly he decided, took a step forward, and wrapped his arms around her. She tensed up then relaxed against him and buried her face in his chest.

“All that matters,” he whispered, lifting her chin gently so she had to look him in the eyes. “Is that you will be the last girl I ever kiss.”

Earlier that day Madame Morrible had, quite abruptly, excused herself from an important meeting due to ‘a sudden indisposition’. In fact she had felt the flare of magic in Quadling country as Elphaba cast the spell that went wrong and wanted to scry immediately for the girl’s location.

In a very short time she had her special map set up next to a bowl of water. The map was little help, it only showed her that the magic of Quadling country had been temporarily mingled with Elphaba’s and recently enough that the girl was probably still in Quadling country. More importantly it showed her that the dull blotch that represented the Grimmerie was still in Kiamo Ko.

“Right where I want you, irksome Miss Elphaba, and now let the games begin. You’ll soon see how a real expert plays.”

Morrible’s time since Elphaba surprised her in the shared dream had been well spent; she now had a definite plan (though it relied a little too much on other people for her liking) of how to rid herself and all of Oz of the woman called the Wicked Witch of the West.

First she took up the scrying bowl and used it to locate Elphaba, all of the Quadling forest looked the same but that didn’t matter for now she just wanted to watch.

Elphaba and Fiyero were walking through the forest, Elphaba was dripping wet and covered in mud. Morrible had just missed what happened but it seemed obvious that the girl had fallen into one of the numerous large puddles dotted through the country. Shortly after the pair reached a broken-down shack that Morrible thought was abandoned until a Quadling man came out to greet them and offer them shelter then, most peculiarly, the bowl went black until she redirected it from following Elphaba to looking at the house – it seemed Quadlings had some kind of charm against scrying that she had until now been unaware of. No matter she would wait for a few hours and see if they were stopping for a meal or the night.

Shortly after arriving Elphaba came out, now wearing a dress, to hang her wet clothes over the railing of the cabin’s veranda then went back inside. After that there was no movement for several hours and Morrible decided it was safe enough to begin.

Weather magic was her specialty and, given her complete disregard for the effect on the rest of Oz, it was simplicity itself to create a fog bank large enough to cover a good half of Quadling country.

The next step required a lot more delicacy and was made a little more delicate by the fact that she couldn’t see the intended victims of the spells she was about to cast but it was by no means impossible, particularly when she was so determined to succeed.

The first spell was something she was particularly proud of, a sleeping potion transferred by means of her scrying bowl into the fog she had created and cast upon anyone within a day’s travel of the place where Elphaba was staying, insidious enough to insinuate itself through the smallest cracks. By observing the nearest Quadlings, sleeping outside and so unprotected from her scrying, she saw the spell take effect and knew the time had come to cast the second spell – after checking the area around the cabin for signs that Elphaba had unconsciously reacted with magic, better to certain despite the fact she was sure the fog would provide adequate camouflage.

For the second spell she used pure magic – a spell memorised long ago from an old spellbook, which she then destroyed. She reached out, deliberately avoiding Elphaba, to touch the sleeping mind of Fiyero Tiggular. Once she found him it was a simple enough matter to overwhelm his mind with magic and plant the notion in it that he must go north to the Emerald City, right now.

Shortly after she saw him exit the cabin and, for the finishing touch, pulled the mist back towards her so it covered Oz from where Elphaba was to the Emerald City and cloaked Fiyero in a spell that would reflect his surroundings – there was now no possible way for Elphaba to scry him out with magic or to see him, even if she was standing right next to him.

Leaving the secret room she sent a message to one of the guards who served her personally, their loyalty ensured by various spells, with instructions for some of them to go to the Quadling border and discreetly collect Prince Fiyero then bring him back to the Palace to be hidden from everyone.

Quadling words:

MarhnaTherin – path/road of blood

KhinanaTherin - city of blood