Fic: Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble - Chapter 11 (Wicked)
Fandom: Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: PG-13/R.
Pairings: Glinda/Elphaba, Glinda/Fiyero, others that it would be spoilery to mention.
Summary: In a slightly different Oz, Elphaba Thropp ekes out her living as a bitter private eye in the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz, where rain rarely lets up, crime runs rampant, and sensual socialites wrap themselves in cigarette smoke.
Chapters: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 / 12
Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble
Chapter 11.
The sisters stood looking at each other, eye to eye at last. Nessa's face brightened up with cautious happiness as she experimented with keeping her balance. Elphaba spoke.
"I should still--" Her fingers tightened, but Margie was not in her hand. She looked down, and a wave of nausea hit her and a humming filled her ears as the world flashed green. It was the spell, she knew; exhaustion from wielding power that was too much for her. She fell on her knees, her arms still grasping the book to her chest. Through the humming she heard Glinda exclaim.
The hum receded and the world returned. She struggled to her feet and wheeled around only to see her own Fat Margie placed against the forehead of her girlfriend.
Nessarose shoved the barrel angrily against Glinda, holding her neck in a tight lock. "Nobody move or I'll shoot," she called, sweat matting her normally pristine hair and sending her eyeliner running in coal black tears down her face.
"Don't move," Elphaba repeated, her eyes not leaving Nessa. "You have what you want, Nessie, just let her go." She spoke calmly but inside she was terrified. One wrong move and it would be the insides of Glinda's head decorating the dorm room.
"Not until I walk out of here safely with the book!" she replied, twirling the two of them round when she saw Fiyero's hand twitch. The Winkie Prince raised his hands and backed away, his own breathing ragged with anger. From somewhere outside the sounds of students could be heard, the gentle calling and taunting and even the occasional shriek of laughed. All that seemed wrong for this moment, too light and too easy. There should have been dramatic music, maybe a thunder storm, but sometimes nature just wouldn't cooperate.
"What could you possibly hope to gain from it, Nessie?" Elphaba asked. "You have your legs - what more do you want?"
"What could I gain, sister? I could gain everything! Do you know how many disbelievers there are out there?" she asked, gesturing to the window. "With their heathen and sinful ways? With this kind of power I could force them to see the error of their ways, open their eyes and let them see the corruption that only I seem to be aware of." The room's occupants looked to each other, sharing looks ranging from terror to agreement.
Yes, thought Elphaba, my sister is well and truly gone. At least that made this a little bit easier. From over Nessarose's shoulder Elphaba caught Fiyero's eye. Neither of them was so crude as to wink, but the message was clear.
Glinda struggled against Nessarose's grasp, but Nessarose held her tighter and pushed the barrel into her head hard enough to bruise.
"You have no right to play God, Nessa, no one does," Elphaba began, the Grimmerie weighing heavily in her hand, as the responsibility it represented weighed on her.
"I will merely be enacting His work," her sister answered. From behind her Fiyero began to move, slowly approaching the Governor. "Elphaba, can't you see! This world, this mess, needs me! Just give me the book. Come now."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Nessie," Elphaba said quietly. 3, 2, 1...
Many things happened in quick procession. Fiyero dived, grabbing the gun from out of Nessarose's hand and shoving Glinda down. Elphaba ran forward, catching the girl as she fell and helping her out of range. When she turned back she was faced with a very different picture, her sister on her knees, wide-eyed in fear as the Winkie Prince towered over her, Margie in his hand. In that moment he looked every inch the War Lord his title made him out to be, jaw set and strong, muscles tensed and ready and his eyes cold as the metal in his hand.
"Oh my," Glinda gasped, peering out from behind Elphaba as she surveyed the scene.
Nessarose turned in fright, looking to her sister and past the gun. "Fabala, please... You can't let him... I'm your.." But Elphaba cut her off
"You don't deserve my pity," she spat, walking to Fiyero's elbow and looking down at her sister.
"Just say the word, Fae, say it and she will never harm you again," Fiyero muttered, barely audible to anyone other than the green woman at his shoulder.
For the second time that day Elphaba held her sister's life in her hands. Sometimes there are moments in your life that define you, moments were you have to decide where you stand. For her entire life she had given her sister everything as she herself gradually faded into the background. Now would she even give her sister this final victory?
She shook her head.
"Far better to leave her in the mess that she created," Elphaba replied, placing her hand on Fiyero's arm to lower it.
"Oh thank you, thank you," Nessarose begged. "I knew there was hope for you, Elphaba." She smirked. Elphaba's hand tensed. The line between the good guys and the bad guys was so often blurred and for the people who live in those shades of gray there had to be some sort of definition. Faster than anyone could react she grabbed her gun and fired two shots. Nessarose screamed, a terrible scream of pain and loss that reverberated around the small room.
Turning to Glinda, Elphaba held out her hand, still bloodstained. Glinda didn't pause. She grabbed Elphaba's hand and squeezed, pulling the two of them together.
"There is a healer on campus, I believe. She'll be fine if you get her there fast enough," Elphaba told one of her sister's men, who were staring at her, horrified. "Although," she turned back, looking at her handiwork, "I doubt she'll ever walk again."
Nessarose shrieked in anger, in pain and in defeat. Bullets did, after all, have the most wondrous effect on kneecaps.
"We had better go," Fiyero said, looking somewhat shook up for just a fraction of a second before his mask fell back in place. He signalled for his men to let Nessarose's disarmed guards go, which they did, cautiously. "I don't know how much longer the soundproofing will last."
Elphaba nodded, picked up the Grimmerie and tucked it under one arm. The three of them backed out of the room, Elphaba and Fiyero with their weapons still trained on their enemies, the Winkie men following with similar caution. Once in the hallway they hurried on, the last of the Winkies holding grim guard over the door still as Fiyero, Elphaba and Glinda reached the bottom of the stairs, finding a few guilty-looking Amas coming out of the recreation room with a bottle and glasses. There was a crash from the hallway above. Abandoning subtlety, they broke into a run.
Elphaba pushed the heavy doors open. They banged violently against the walls. Fiyero's carriages were still outside waiting for them, and now she could also see Nessarose's remaining carriage further down the road. There was no time to waste. She handed the book to Fiyero. "You'll want to get it out of here quick, even if it has changed form," she said, and he nodded.
"I'm taking a carriage to the Vinkus right now. The Grimmerald - the Grimmerie is not safe here. The other carriage will see you back to the Emerald City - or wherever you want to go." He held out a hands to both of them. "Even to the Vinkus - if you want."
There was no time for this, so Elphaba just smiled at him, a thin-lipped wry smile, and shook her head. He dropped his hand with a sigh and, hearing the sound of footsteps in the corridor and a crescendo of female shrieks, he, Elphaba and Glinda all ran the rest of the way to the two carriages. Orders were barked, horses reared ready to run and injured men transferred into the carriage going back to the Emerald City. As the carriage began to roll, a munchkin in Thropp livery, the first of Nessarose's most loyal men, jumped onto the stair of Elphaba's carriage, his face streaked with tears of frustration. There was a flash of reflection from a knife-blade and Elphaba kicked open the carriage door, dislodging the fellow. That was it and they were off, rolling along the street towards home.
They were packed tight like sardines in the carriage, three injured men, Elphaba and Glinda, with two more on the top, including the driver. Glinda gave her a smile and a squeeze of the hand. One of the Winkies, an older man, was gritting his teeth against pain, leaning his head on the window; another, exhausted and pale, grasped his bleeding leg.
"Let's stop on Thriceturned Street," said Glinda. "One of the best healers in the city lives there. She should have beds and lotions for all of you."
"No," said the elderly Winkie. "It's not safe--"
"It is," said Glinda firmly. "I know this city and this healer and I know we can trust her. She once stood up to Morrible herself when I was in for a rather self-induced bout of illness, and--"
Elphaba sat up, her eyes suddenly wide. "Morrible!"
"Yes, and let me tell you she can be persuasive--"
"We forgot about Morrible!" said Elphaba, horrified that she could have overlooked the conspicuous absence of the true villain of the story. "She may have tricked up Fiyero's carriage - called the police, or the Wizard himself, told him some story about how she nearly intercepted the Winkie thief--"
Glinda blanched. "Oh no, no. This was supposed to be over!"
Elphaba stuck her head out the window. "Stop the carriage!"
As the carriage ground to a halt, Elphaba took Glinda's hands. "Get these men to Thriceturned Street. I'm going back alone."
"You can't! I'll come with you --"
"Not this time. You!" she called out to the driver. "Do you know where Thriceturned Street is?"
"Sorry, Miss Fae," said the man. "I've never been in Shiz before."
"Do you see?" Elphaba said to Glinda. "They need you. I'll be fine." She climbed out of the carriage and Glinda leaned out the window, her face a mask of anxiety. Elphaba kissed her. "I will see you soon, my sweet." Then she was gone, running down the street and around a corner.
"But you don't know this city either!" Glinda called after her, but her voice just echoed back at her from high stone walls.
-
Fiyero fell back against the seat at last, having craned his neck long enough, hanging out the window, to be fairly confident they were not being pursued. Even if they were, they'd have the advantage of numbers, of the Grimmerie - what help or offer it could bring, if any - and a distance that would soon become insurmountable. They had won.
He ran his fingers over the strange markings on the leather tome and opened it, but could not bear to look at the weird scribbling text for long. It gave him a headache. Whatever the power of the book, it was not for him to unlock. It had spoken to Fae, though - he wondered...
He set the book down on the seat in front of him and looked out the window, not to look out for pursuit, but to watch the city lights spread below them as they mounted a hillside, with a sheer drop on his right. At night the city's brilliance almost rivalled the natural lights of the sky here in Gillikin - not so the lights of the desert, where nights were filled with luminous beauty.
There was a strangled sound behind him and the man sitting next to him slumped against him. Fiyero turned to see the man's eyes stare wide and unseeing at the floor. "Pedkin, what--" Then he saw the thin cord slithering away from his neck and looked up in amazement to see Temeiro's features melt into those of Madam Morrible. Her bloated face bore a grimace of menace and terrible glee. He raised his hands to protect himself just as she shoved.
The door of the carriage opened under the weight of both Pedkin and Fiyero as they were shoved out of the carriage just as it veered around the corner. Fiyero hit the ground, pain flashing through his body, and Pedkin fell on top of him. He scrambled but they were half over the side of the road already and they fell, rolling down the near-sheer ground, bumping, kicking up dust. He saw the carriage go on, rounding the corner, a hand drawing the carriage door closed, the unfamiliar shape of the driver, and then his head was hit and the world sparkled in red agony and winked out.
-
Elphaba followed the streets back towards the university as best she could. There might be city guards there already for all she knew - there had certainly been enough of a ruckus. Moreover it was Morrible's turf and she may already have mobilized the entire university to intercept anyone trying to sneak back in. But then why had they had such an easy time getting in? Elphaba cursed as she thought of that helpful little Ama. It all read like a trap. Why hadn't she seen it?
What could be Morrible's angle? Not to trade the book to the Winkies, nor to take it back to the Wizard, but to use it herself - if she could unlock its powers. Had she known it would react to Elphaba? How? She didn't know herself why it had.
All she had now was Fat Margie and her wits. She didn't even have money in her pocket to buy the services of a chaise or a horse - not that she could ride, anyway, as the beasts never took to her. This required some thought.
Elphaba remembered the graffiti. The unwashed graffiti on the university walls - the obscene graffiti over Animal reliefs - and only animal reliefs. She relaxed. She may not know Shiz, but she knew cities.
Elphaba made sure Fat Margie was snug in the shoulder holster and hoped it was too dark to see either her colour or the dark stains on her clothing. She followed the streets, the signs; the feces on the street, the chips on the stonework. She kept to the shadows when people walked by, laughing and talking, off on their night jaunts. She hurried past the prostitutes who saw only her hat and coat silhouetted in the shadows and called out to her as she passed. Before too long, though it seemed far too long, she came around a corner and saw a stable, the coach house brightly lit and coaches trotting out on call. The stable itself was dimly lit, and she found a trail of shadows to follow over a low stone wall and across an empty stretch of grass into the stable.
Patience, now. She found a moderately clean towel and wiped the blood off her face and hands, then appropriated a jacket that was hanging from a nail by the door. She tucked her own bloodstained clothes behind a line of pails.
"If you give me some extra hay I won't tell the stable hand about you," said a voice behind her. She smiled, but when she turned her face was deathly serious.
"I was looking for you, actually," she said.
The black-flanked Stallion backed away one step in his stall and looked at her suspiciously, but finally snorted and flipped his ears. "What would your sort like with a Horse?" he asked bitterly. "You must talk to my owner if you wish to hire me."
"There's no-one who can call himself your owner by any right that I recognize," said Elphaba angrily. "The rest of Oz might have gone crazy, but I know what's right. I'm asking for a favour."
"In exchange for what?" said the Horse on a tired tone.
"I can get you out of here - get you to the Emerald City. Things aren't much better there than they are here, but Animals can still have jobs at the right sorts of places. I know those places. I'll set you up, you and your young, if you have any."
"I've never even seen my young," said the Stallion, "nor their mothers again, most of them."
"There are free mares in the City," promised Elphaba, her heart sinking. Things may not be worse in the City for Animals than they were here, but it was no walk in the park, either. Mares went missing, Sheep led to slaughter with promises of freedom. The Horse was right to doubt her. "My name is Elphaba." She left out her last name. In these situations, she figured, that was best. "I need to find Madam Morrible."
"And what will you do to her, when you find her?" asked the Horse.
"I will knock out her teeth. Maybe I will kill her. I don't know yet."
"Then let me out," said the Horse, "and I'll help you."
Elphaba did, glad that her guess had been correct. She took the liberty of stroking the Horse's neck as he trotted out of his stall. His great bulk shuddered under the touch, but he did not seem offended. "My name is Herbert," he offered.
"Nice to meet you, Mr Herbert."
"Okay, I like you. Now. What can I do for you?"
"First, let's get out of here."
"Put the reins on me," said Herbert. "It'll look better."
"I'm sorry," said Elphaba as she tied the reins on awkwardly.
"Don't be," said Herbert. "As long as you get me out of here."
She led Herbert out by the rein and across the same empty stretch she'd come in, except this time she unlatched the back gate. As they trotted out there was a shout of "Hey!" behind them. Elphaba quickly jumped on Herbert's back and clung to his mane, trying desperately to hold on with her thighs, just as her mother had once instructed her. Herbert broke into a gallop as soon as she was securely on his back, neighing in pleasure at the freedom of running without a carriage behind him. "Where to?" he shouted over the gushing wind as he picked up pace.
Elphaba thought quickly. "Do you know what route to take if you're driving towards the Vinkus?"
"I have a pretty good idea!" Herbert turned at a corner, forcing Elphaba to scrabble for purchase. She only just managed to hang on.
The sound of Herbert's hoofs beating against the road echoed on the stone-buildings. There were shrieks as late night townspeople swerved to avoid them, and once they nearly collided with an apple cart, but soon the street widened and became a carriage way, empty now as the day's trading was long since concluded, and Herbert picked up pace once more, flying through the street, his mane whipping behind him just as Elphaba's was, her hat lost, her hair coming loose from its braid. It would have been thrilling and terrifying at the same time if it wasn't for the thoughts that were filling Elphaba's mind. If they were too late and the carriage had been tripped up or the city guard had overtaken it, what would become of Fiyero?
Disclaimer: Wicked (c) Gregory Maguire.
Rating: PG-13/R.
Pairings: Glinda/Elphaba, Glinda/Fiyero, others that it would be spoilery to mention.
Summary: In a slightly different Oz, Elphaba Thropp ekes out her living as a bitter private eye in the Emerald City, the bad green apple of Oz, where rain rarely lets up, crime runs rampant, and sensual socialites wrap themselves in cigarette smoke.
Chapters: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 / 12
Adventures in the Bad Green Apple: Blood for a Bauble
Chapter 11.
The sisters stood looking at each other, eye to eye at last. Nessa's face brightened up with cautious happiness as she experimented with keeping her balance. Elphaba spoke.
"I should still--" Her fingers tightened, but Margie was not in her hand. She looked down, and a wave of nausea hit her and a humming filled her ears as the world flashed green. It was the spell, she knew; exhaustion from wielding power that was too much for her. She fell on her knees, her arms still grasping the book to her chest. Through the humming she heard Glinda exclaim.
The hum receded and the world returned. She struggled to her feet and wheeled around only to see her own Fat Margie placed against the forehead of her girlfriend.
Nessarose shoved the barrel angrily against Glinda, holding her neck in a tight lock. "Nobody move or I'll shoot," she called, sweat matting her normally pristine hair and sending her eyeliner running in coal black tears down her face.
"Don't move," Elphaba repeated, her eyes not leaving Nessa. "You have what you want, Nessie, just let her go." She spoke calmly but inside she was terrified. One wrong move and it would be the insides of Glinda's head decorating the dorm room.
"Not until I walk out of here safely with the book!" she replied, twirling the two of them round when she saw Fiyero's hand twitch. The Winkie Prince raised his hands and backed away, his own breathing ragged with anger. From somewhere outside the sounds of students could be heard, the gentle calling and taunting and even the occasional shriek of laughed. All that seemed wrong for this moment, too light and too easy. There should have been dramatic music, maybe a thunder storm, but sometimes nature just wouldn't cooperate.
"What could you possibly hope to gain from it, Nessie?" Elphaba asked. "You have your legs - what more do you want?"
"What could I gain, sister? I could gain everything! Do you know how many disbelievers there are out there?" she asked, gesturing to the window. "With their heathen and sinful ways? With this kind of power I could force them to see the error of their ways, open their eyes and let them see the corruption that only I seem to be aware of." The room's occupants looked to each other, sharing looks ranging from terror to agreement.
Yes, thought Elphaba, my sister is well and truly gone. At least that made this a little bit easier. From over Nessarose's shoulder Elphaba caught Fiyero's eye. Neither of them was so crude as to wink, but the message was clear.
Glinda struggled against Nessarose's grasp, but Nessarose held her tighter and pushed the barrel into her head hard enough to bruise.
"You have no right to play God, Nessa, no one does," Elphaba began, the Grimmerie weighing heavily in her hand, as the responsibility it represented weighed on her.
"I will merely be enacting His work," her sister answered. From behind her Fiyero began to move, slowly approaching the Governor. "Elphaba, can't you see! This world, this mess, needs me! Just give me the book. Come now."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Nessie," Elphaba said quietly. 3, 2, 1...
Many things happened in quick procession. Fiyero dived, grabbing the gun from out of Nessarose's hand and shoving Glinda down. Elphaba ran forward, catching the girl as she fell and helping her out of range. When she turned back she was faced with a very different picture, her sister on her knees, wide-eyed in fear as the Winkie Prince towered over her, Margie in his hand. In that moment he looked every inch the War Lord his title made him out to be, jaw set and strong, muscles tensed and ready and his eyes cold as the metal in his hand.
"Oh my," Glinda gasped, peering out from behind Elphaba as she surveyed the scene.
Nessarose turned in fright, looking to her sister and past the gun. "Fabala, please... You can't let him... I'm your.." But Elphaba cut her off
"You don't deserve my pity," she spat, walking to Fiyero's elbow and looking down at her sister.
"Just say the word, Fae, say it and she will never harm you again," Fiyero muttered, barely audible to anyone other than the green woman at his shoulder.
For the second time that day Elphaba held her sister's life in her hands. Sometimes there are moments in your life that define you, moments were you have to decide where you stand. For her entire life she had given her sister everything as she herself gradually faded into the background. Now would she even give her sister this final victory?
She shook her head.
"Far better to leave her in the mess that she created," Elphaba replied, placing her hand on Fiyero's arm to lower it.
"Oh thank you, thank you," Nessarose begged. "I knew there was hope for you, Elphaba." She smirked. Elphaba's hand tensed. The line between the good guys and the bad guys was so often blurred and for the people who live in those shades of gray there had to be some sort of definition. Faster than anyone could react she grabbed her gun and fired two shots. Nessarose screamed, a terrible scream of pain and loss that reverberated around the small room.
Turning to Glinda, Elphaba held out her hand, still bloodstained. Glinda didn't pause. She grabbed Elphaba's hand and squeezed, pulling the two of them together.
"There is a healer on campus, I believe. She'll be fine if you get her there fast enough," Elphaba told one of her sister's men, who were staring at her, horrified. "Although," she turned back, looking at her handiwork, "I doubt she'll ever walk again."
Nessarose shrieked in anger, in pain and in defeat. Bullets did, after all, have the most wondrous effect on kneecaps.
"We had better go," Fiyero said, looking somewhat shook up for just a fraction of a second before his mask fell back in place. He signalled for his men to let Nessarose's disarmed guards go, which they did, cautiously. "I don't know how much longer the soundproofing will last."
Elphaba nodded, picked up the Grimmerie and tucked it under one arm. The three of them backed out of the room, Elphaba and Fiyero with their weapons still trained on their enemies, the Winkie men following with similar caution. Once in the hallway they hurried on, the last of the Winkies holding grim guard over the door still as Fiyero, Elphaba and Glinda reached the bottom of the stairs, finding a few guilty-looking Amas coming out of the recreation room with a bottle and glasses. There was a crash from the hallway above. Abandoning subtlety, they broke into a run.
Elphaba pushed the heavy doors open. They banged violently against the walls. Fiyero's carriages were still outside waiting for them, and now she could also see Nessarose's remaining carriage further down the road. There was no time to waste. She handed the book to Fiyero. "You'll want to get it out of here quick, even if it has changed form," she said, and he nodded.
"I'm taking a carriage to the Vinkus right now. The Grimmerald - the Grimmerie is not safe here. The other carriage will see you back to the Emerald City - or wherever you want to go." He held out a hands to both of them. "Even to the Vinkus - if you want."
There was no time for this, so Elphaba just smiled at him, a thin-lipped wry smile, and shook her head. He dropped his hand with a sigh and, hearing the sound of footsteps in the corridor and a crescendo of female shrieks, he, Elphaba and Glinda all ran the rest of the way to the two carriages. Orders were barked, horses reared ready to run and injured men transferred into the carriage going back to the Emerald City. As the carriage began to roll, a munchkin in Thropp livery, the first of Nessarose's most loyal men, jumped onto the stair of Elphaba's carriage, his face streaked with tears of frustration. There was a flash of reflection from a knife-blade and Elphaba kicked open the carriage door, dislodging the fellow. That was it and they were off, rolling along the street towards home.
They were packed tight like sardines in the carriage, three injured men, Elphaba and Glinda, with two more on the top, including the driver. Glinda gave her a smile and a squeeze of the hand. One of the Winkies, an older man, was gritting his teeth against pain, leaning his head on the window; another, exhausted and pale, grasped his bleeding leg.
"Let's stop on Thriceturned Street," said Glinda. "One of the best healers in the city lives there. She should have beds and lotions for all of you."
"No," said the elderly Winkie. "It's not safe--"
"It is," said Glinda firmly. "I know this city and this healer and I know we can trust her. She once stood up to Morrible herself when I was in for a rather self-induced bout of illness, and--"
Elphaba sat up, her eyes suddenly wide. "Morrible!"
"Yes, and let me tell you she can be persuasive--"
"We forgot about Morrible!" said Elphaba, horrified that she could have overlooked the conspicuous absence of the true villain of the story. "She may have tricked up Fiyero's carriage - called the police, or the Wizard himself, told him some story about how she nearly intercepted the Winkie thief--"
Glinda blanched. "Oh no, no. This was supposed to be over!"
Elphaba stuck her head out the window. "Stop the carriage!"
As the carriage ground to a halt, Elphaba took Glinda's hands. "Get these men to Thriceturned Street. I'm going back alone."
"You can't! I'll come with you --"
"Not this time. You!" she called out to the driver. "Do you know where Thriceturned Street is?"
"Sorry, Miss Fae," said the man. "I've never been in Shiz before."
"Do you see?" Elphaba said to Glinda. "They need you. I'll be fine." She climbed out of the carriage and Glinda leaned out the window, her face a mask of anxiety. Elphaba kissed her. "I will see you soon, my sweet." Then she was gone, running down the street and around a corner.
"But you don't know this city either!" Glinda called after her, but her voice just echoed back at her from high stone walls.
-
Fiyero fell back against the seat at last, having craned his neck long enough, hanging out the window, to be fairly confident they were not being pursued. Even if they were, they'd have the advantage of numbers, of the Grimmerie - what help or offer it could bring, if any - and a distance that would soon become insurmountable. They had won.
He ran his fingers over the strange markings on the leather tome and opened it, but could not bear to look at the weird scribbling text for long. It gave him a headache. Whatever the power of the book, it was not for him to unlock. It had spoken to Fae, though - he wondered...
He set the book down on the seat in front of him and looked out the window, not to look out for pursuit, but to watch the city lights spread below them as they mounted a hillside, with a sheer drop on his right. At night the city's brilliance almost rivalled the natural lights of the sky here in Gillikin - not so the lights of the desert, where nights were filled with luminous beauty.
There was a strangled sound behind him and the man sitting next to him slumped against him. Fiyero turned to see the man's eyes stare wide and unseeing at the floor. "Pedkin, what--" Then he saw the thin cord slithering away from his neck and looked up in amazement to see Temeiro's features melt into those of Madam Morrible. Her bloated face bore a grimace of menace and terrible glee. He raised his hands to protect himself just as she shoved.
The door of the carriage opened under the weight of both Pedkin and Fiyero as they were shoved out of the carriage just as it veered around the corner. Fiyero hit the ground, pain flashing through his body, and Pedkin fell on top of him. He scrambled but they were half over the side of the road already and they fell, rolling down the near-sheer ground, bumping, kicking up dust. He saw the carriage go on, rounding the corner, a hand drawing the carriage door closed, the unfamiliar shape of the driver, and then his head was hit and the world sparkled in red agony and winked out.
-
Elphaba followed the streets back towards the university as best she could. There might be city guards there already for all she knew - there had certainly been enough of a ruckus. Moreover it was Morrible's turf and she may already have mobilized the entire university to intercept anyone trying to sneak back in. But then why had they had such an easy time getting in? Elphaba cursed as she thought of that helpful little Ama. It all read like a trap. Why hadn't she seen it?
What could be Morrible's angle? Not to trade the book to the Winkies, nor to take it back to the Wizard, but to use it herself - if she could unlock its powers. Had she known it would react to Elphaba? How? She didn't know herself why it had.
All she had now was Fat Margie and her wits. She didn't even have money in her pocket to buy the services of a chaise or a horse - not that she could ride, anyway, as the beasts never took to her. This required some thought.
Elphaba remembered the graffiti. The unwashed graffiti on the university walls - the obscene graffiti over Animal reliefs - and only animal reliefs. She relaxed. She may not know Shiz, but she knew cities.
Elphaba made sure Fat Margie was snug in the shoulder holster and hoped it was too dark to see either her colour or the dark stains on her clothing. She followed the streets, the signs; the feces on the street, the chips on the stonework. She kept to the shadows when people walked by, laughing and talking, off on their night jaunts. She hurried past the prostitutes who saw only her hat and coat silhouetted in the shadows and called out to her as she passed. Before too long, though it seemed far too long, she came around a corner and saw a stable, the coach house brightly lit and coaches trotting out on call. The stable itself was dimly lit, and she found a trail of shadows to follow over a low stone wall and across an empty stretch of grass into the stable.
Patience, now. She found a moderately clean towel and wiped the blood off her face and hands, then appropriated a jacket that was hanging from a nail by the door. She tucked her own bloodstained clothes behind a line of pails.
"If you give me some extra hay I won't tell the stable hand about you," said a voice behind her. She smiled, but when she turned her face was deathly serious.
"I was looking for you, actually," she said.
The black-flanked Stallion backed away one step in his stall and looked at her suspiciously, but finally snorted and flipped his ears. "What would your sort like with a Horse?" he asked bitterly. "You must talk to my owner if you wish to hire me."
"There's no-one who can call himself your owner by any right that I recognize," said Elphaba angrily. "The rest of Oz might have gone crazy, but I know what's right. I'm asking for a favour."
"In exchange for what?" said the Horse on a tired tone.
"I can get you out of here - get you to the Emerald City. Things aren't much better there than they are here, but Animals can still have jobs at the right sorts of places. I know those places. I'll set you up, you and your young, if you have any."
"I've never even seen my young," said the Stallion, "nor their mothers again, most of them."
"There are free mares in the City," promised Elphaba, her heart sinking. Things may not be worse in the City for Animals than they were here, but it was no walk in the park, either. Mares went missing, Sheep led to slaughter with promises of freedom. The Horse was right to doubt her. "My name is Elphaba." She left out her last name. In these situations, she figured, that was best. "I need to find Madam Morrible."
"And what will you do to her, when you find her?" asked the Horse.
"I will knock out her teeth. Maybe I will kill her. I don't know yet."
"Then let me out," said the Horse, "and I'll help you."
Elphaba did, glad that her guess had been correct. She took the liberty of stroking the Horse's neck as he trotted out of his stall. His great bulk shuddered under the touch, but he did not seem offended. "My name is Herbert," he offered.
"Nice to meet you, Mr Herbert."
"Okay, I like you. Now. What can I do for you?"
"First, let's get out of here."
"Put the reins on me," said Herbert. "It'll look better."
"I'm sorry," said Elphaba as she tied the reins on awkwardly.
"Don't be," said Herbert. "As long as you get me out of here."
She led Herbert out by the rein and across the same empty stretch she'd come in, except this time she unlatched the back gate. As they trotted out there was a shout of "Hey!" behind them. Elphaba quickly jumped on Herbert's back and clung to his mane, trying desperately to hold on with her thighs, just as her mother had once instructed her. Herbert broke into a gallop as soon as she was securely on his back, neighing in pleasure at the freedom of running without a carriage behind him. "Where to?" he shouted over the gushing wind as he picked up pace.
Elphaba thought quickly. "Do you know what route to take if you're driving towards the Vinkus?"
"I have a pretty good idea!" Herbert turned at a corner, forcing Elphaba to scrabble for purchase. She only just managed to hang on.
The sound of Herbert's hoofs beating against the road echoed on the stone-buildings. There were shrieks as late night townspeople swerved to avoid them, and once they nearly collided with an apple cart, but soon the street widened and became a carriage way, empty now as the day's trading was long since concluded, and Herbert picked up pace once more, flying through the street, his mane whipping behind him just as Elphaba's was, her hat lost, her hair coming loose from its braid. It would have been thrilling and terrifying at the same time if it wasn't for the thoughts that were filling Elphaba's mind. If they were too late and the carriage had been tripped up or the city guard had overtaken it, what would become of Fiyero?