Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Shiz was as beautiful as it had looked in the photographs and the colorful brochures that Galinda had spent days poring over. The round towers had been painted soft shades of gold and coral, their windows facing out to the endless miles of poppy fields. The late afternoon sunlight sparkled off the water of the canals, which were currently clogged with gondolas filled with arriving students and their families. Galinda watched as a man and woman pulled their daughter into a simultaneous embrace, like they couldn’t decide which one of them should hug her first. She turned away, looking down at the colorful fish swimming in the water of the canal, so close she could have reached out to touch them. She tried to ignore the pang in her chest.

Father hadn’t been able to come with her. He’d said goodbye to her at the Emerald Palace the day before, while the carriage waited outside to take her to the train station. “You’re sure you have everything?” he said, even though she’d checked and rechecked her list earlier that morning. 

“Yes, Father. Everything’s been arranged.” 

“Good, good.” He straightened the W pin that he’d fastened onto her lapel. “You’re going to have such a good time. So good a time that you’re probably going to forget all about me. You’ll be too busy hanging out with all of your new friends.” 

Friends. Galinda didn’t know if she’d ever really had a friend--well, she had plenty of friends but they were all the daughters and sons of Father’s advisors, so they didn’t really count. The people she met while attending public functions in Oz didn't count either. They spent time with her because she was her father’s daughter. They couldn’t have cared less what she was like as a person. But maybe he was right. Maybe Shiz would be different. He'd already sent word to the Head Shizstress that she was supposed to be treated like every other student. No special treatment. “ You know I could never forget about you. I’ll write once a week, as long as you write back.” 

“Of course I will. I know how much you hate being out of the loop,” he said, hugging her tightly. She breathed in his familiar scent of cologne and fabric softener and a hint of whiskey. “I’m going to miss you, kid.” 

“I’ll miss you too.” 

“But you’re going to have a great time.” He released her, giving her hands one last squeeze. “Let me know if you need anything, anything at all. You can always talk to Madame Morrible. And Galinda…” He glanced at the two snow Monkeys standing on duty outside the doors to the receiving room. “Let me know if you see anything…suspicious. Anyone who seems like they might be causing trouble.” 

Galinda’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

His eyes flashed around the room--up at the crown molding around the ceiling, over to the landscape paintings on the walls, and beyond them to the view of the gardens outside the leaded windows. “I don’t want you to worry--” 

She squeezed his hand. “Father, I’m nearly twenty years old now. You can tell me these things.” 

He sighed. “There have just been some...mutterings of discontent, in certain corners of Oz. There are some who would prefer it if I wasn’t on the throne anymore.” 

“But why?” Galinda couldn’t believe that anyone would hate Father. Not when everything he did was to make things better for Oz. He hadn’t even been born here, but he’d wanted to make it a better place anyway. When Galinda was younger, back when she didn’t quite understand what it meant to have dead parents, he’d told her that they were alike in that way. They were both strangers in the Emerald City, but they could create their own sense of belonging by making people love them. 

“They're radicals. They want to cause chaos. Who knows what their reasons are." He shook his head. "Now, it’s nothing you need to worry about. You’re not in any danger. I just need you to let me or Madame Morrible know if you see or hear about any…seditious activity. Particularly among the Animals.” 

“The Animals?” Galinda had only met a handful of Animals in her life, outside of the Monkeys who comprised the Emerald Guard. They were nice enough, she supposed, but they didn’t say much. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time one of them had spoken to her. 

“Yes. We have reason to believe that some of the…seditious talk is originating in some of their more educated circles. You know that Shiz still has Animal professors? They may be very different from the kinds of Animals you’re used to. Less...respectful.” 

A shiver crawled down her spine. “If I hear anything, I’ll tell you.” 

“That’s my girl.” He hugged her one last time, holding on for a moment longer than usual. She let him; she hadn’t been away from the Emerald City for more than a couple of weeks at a time, and now she wouldn’t see him again until Lurlinemas. “Well, I suppose you’d better get going,” he said when he let go. “You’ll want to get to Shiz at a reasonable time."

She almost said she wished that he could come with her. But she was sure that he would have accompanied her, if he could. His duties as the Wizard kept him busy, and she didn’t want him to think that she was unhappy. He already gave her everything she could ever want. So instead she smiled at him, told him that she loved him, and followed the Monkeys out to the waiting carriage.

She shook her head, trying to clear it, and looked back at her luggage. All of her trunks were brand new and painted a soft pink, stamped with the Upland monogram on one side and her own golden G monogram on the other. There would be porters at the dock to take her luggage upstairs to her suite (a private one; Father had reserved it specifically). Right now, her job was to network. It shouldn’t be very hard, because everyone at Shiz would no doubt be curious to meet her: the last scion of the Upland family and the adopted daughter of the Wizard of Oz. But right now, the emphasis was on the Upland part of her name, bestowed by parents she didn’t remember. She was here to make connections with other powerful Gillikin families, connections that could turn into trade agreements in later years. Father always said that the best way to attract flies was with honey, not vinegar. For a long time Galinda hadn’t understood what that meant. Now, as her boat gently bumped against the side of the dock and a porter reached out a gloved hand to help her disembark, and as she felt the soft weight of dozens of pairs of eyes on her, she did. Father was far too busy to go to Gillikin himself. But Galinda could. She could make the connections-and the friends-that he couldn’t. 

It didn’t matter that she didn’t have any family to see her off. She didn't need them. She could charm people all by herself. She held her back straight, her shoulders back, smiling a warm smile at the boy and girl disembarking from the next boat. She vaguely recognized the girl; her father might have been on the Gillikinese ruling council. 

The boy gasped. He had wavy dark hair and pointed dark glasses. “That’s her,” he whispered, in a poor sotto voce, to his companion. 

“I told you she was going to be here,” the girl replied in a loud whisper. “My father said she would be.” 

Galinda pretended she didn’t hear them, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Galinda Upland.” For a moment they both just stared at her with wide eyes. “And you are…?” she pressed, gently. 

“Pfannee, your Highness,” the boy stammered, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose with a fingertip. “And this is--” 

“ShenShen,” the girl said, holding out a hand for Galinda to shake. Yes, she definitely had a father on the Gillikinese ruling council. That was as good a place as any to start. “Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I collect all of your covers of Ozmpolitan--” 

“That’s so kind!” Galinda shot a look back towards the boat, to make sure the porters were unloading her luggage correctly. It wouldn’t do to have any of her trunks get broken, or soiled. "But please, there's no need for honorifics here. I'm a first year student, just like the rest of you." 

"And she's so modest too!" Pfannee whispered, like he didn't know Galinda was listening. 

“We really should take our seats for the opening remarks, shouldn’t we?” She pretended to check the clock hanging on the other side of the courtyard, turning away from another embracing family. Pfannee and ShenShen both nearly fell over each other in their rush to accompany her. She suspected that if she'd told them that she wanted to skip the opening remarks and go swimming naked in the canals they would have accompanied her. 

Pfannee was talking a mile a minute, asking her questions about the Emerald City and then not bothering to wait for an answer before he started talking about his own (very large, apparently illustrious) family. “There’s a statue of my grandfather in the portrait gallery. He funded an entire floor of the library. Look, if you stand right here, you can see him--” He grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him, one arm pointing up towards the glazed windows of the school, and Galinda crashed right into another person. She squeaked as her heel trembled, knocked off balance--

But before she could fall, strong arms caught her. “Are you all right?” 

The girl staring down at her was green. At first Galinda thought it was just the angle of the sunlight playing tricks on her, but then she realized it wasn’t the sun at all. The girl’s skin was actually green. It was a pretty shade of green--not quite forest green, but not frog green. Not grass green, either. Galinda knew there were different shades of green--she’d grown up surrounded by them, after all--but this girl seemed to defy all of them. She’d never seen anything like it. 

She realized that she’d been silent for too long and the girl was waiting for an answer, her brow furrowed slightly. Her hands rested at Galinda’s waist, their soft warmth sinking through her  light pink dress. Upland colors, not Emerald City colors. Galinda could feel the scratch of her fingernails against the fabric. She looked up into the girl’s soft green eyes. They looked almost mossy, like the covering the rocks in the palace ponds got when it rained. “You’re green,” she breathed in awe. 

Galinda didn’t know what possessed her to say it. Of course the girl would know she was green. It was a stupid thing to say. But she still wasn’t expecting the girl’s eyes to narrow, turning hard and cold. “I am,” she said, almost sardonically. “It can be a bit of a shock at first. I hope it wasn’t too distressing, your Highness.” She set Galinda back down, only letting go of her once she was sure she could stand on her own. Galinda felt the sudden cold on her skin where the girl's hands had been.

The girl turned to the crowd that had begun to assemble around them. “Let’s get this over with. No, I am not seasick. No, I didn’t eat grass as a child. And yes, I have always been green.” 

Oh, Oz. The girl was offended. “I didn’t mean--” 

But it didn’t matter because Pfannee and Shenshen were already dragging her away. “We have to get you away from that lunatic, your Highness,” Pfannee said. 

“Yeah. She was totally unhinged,” ShenShen replied. “But what can you really expect from someone who’s green?” They both shuddered. 

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that. And please, there's no need to call me your Highness,” Galinda said as they pulled her down between them on the first bench facing the stage. Other students were starting to file in, huddling in small groups and clutching their orientation packets to their chests, book bags slung over their shoulders.

“That’s because you’re so good, Galinda,” Shenshen said in a voice that would undoubtedly carry across the quad. Galinda winced. “Really. I don’t know how you do it. Maybe you just don’t know, having been raised in the Emerald City. There must be green everywhere there. But green skin…it’s unnatural.” 

Galinda resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I understand that green is not a usual skin tone. But it’s not like it’s her fault--” But then the Master of Ceremonies introduced the faculty and announced that Madame Morrible would be delivering the opening remarks, and Galinda stayed quiet. 

Madame Morrible came to the front of the stage, looking regal as always in her red and gold robes. Before she began to speak she nodded at Galinda and gave her a soft almost smile. Galinda sat up a little straighter, almost instinctively. She could practically feel Madame Morrible’s hands on her back, pressing inwards. Proper young ladies don’t slouch, Miss Galinda. “Good afternoon, and congratulotions on your acceptance here at Shiz. We have nothing but the highest of hopes…for some of you.” The crowd tittered, but Galinda knew it wasn’t a joke. Madame Morrible expected great things, from a few of them. Only the best and the brightest. But especially from Galinda. 

Everyone was expecting great things from her. Father, Madame Morrible, all of Father's advisors, everyone in the Emerald City. Everyone knew her story. Everyone knew how lucky she was. Everyone was expecting her to make good.

She glanced back and found the girl with green skin standing near the stone archway that served as the entrance to the quad. The girl caught her eye, her expression carefully neutral--although Galinda saw a muscle work in her jaw. Galinda gave her a small wave, but the girl didn’t wave back. Unfriendly. Galinda should have been offended, but her rudeness was almost refreshing. Normally everyone was too afraid to treat her with anything but sycophantic deference, because of who her father was. Was the girl with green skin even a student at the school? She wasn’t wearing the uniform, like everyone else. Had she traveled far to get to Shiz and just hadn’t had a chance to unpack yet? 

By the time Galinda snapped herself out of her reverie, Madame Morrible had already finished speaking. That wasn’t surprising; Galinda had listened to enough of her speeches to know that the sorceress didn’t believe in using more words than she needed to. “Why would you use ten words when you could use three?” she’d asked Galinda one day, as they walked in the Palace gardens on an unseasonably warm day. 

“Because using ten is more fun!” Galinda giggled. She’d only been seven then and she was happy to be out of the confines of the classroom, feeling the sun on her face and the crunch of the grass beneath her green velvet slippers. 

Madame Morrible had patted the top of her head fondly. “Yes, I suppose your father would have told you that.” 

Now, as Madame Morrible walked away from the podium, Galinda thought about going after her and begging her to let her into Sorcery Seminar one last time. Maybe the sorceress would take pity on her now that they were at Shiz. She knew better than anyone, even Father, just how badly Galinda wanted to be a sorceress. Galinda had wanted to be a sorceress as long as she’d been able to want anything. Father had bought her a training wand for her sixth birthday and then hired Madame Morrible to tutor her privately every summer since she was seven. So Madame Morrible also knew, better than anyone else, just how hopeless Galinda was at magic. For years and years and years she hadn’t been able to so much as levitate a coin--much less perform transformation spells or weather spells or even a simple invisibility charm. Her abilities simply weren’t up to the level that Madame Morrible required for admission into her Sorcery Seminar and she wouldn’t bend the rules for anyone, not even the Wizard of Oz’s daughter. 

Adopted daughter, the small voice at the back of Galinda's head said, the voice that Galinda tried not to listen to. 

Madame Morrible had sat her down on the first day of summer break in Galinda’s pink and green sitting room. She’d slipped Galinda’s admissions essay out of her briefcase and set it on the table in between them. Galinda’s looping handwriting stared up at them: Magic Wands--Need They Have A Point? Galinda had thought the idea was particularly clever, arguing that since magic wands were just a way to channel inherent magical abilities (backed up by every magical text that she had ever read) it didn’t really matter what they looked like. They could be straight or curved, long or short. Most of the training wands on the market were so long and bulky, more like spears than magical wands. They would be much cheapter to make, and easier to maneuver, if they were smaller. 

Galinda had known that she wouldn’t be able to get into the Sorcery program on the strength of her talent alone, but she’d thought that perhaps she could persuade Madame Morrible with a well reasoned argument backed up by evidence. But she could tell, from the sympathetic look in the sorceress’s eyes, that it hadn’t been enough. “Dearie, I simply don’t think that the Sorcery program is a good fit for your…abilities,” she said, handing the essay back to Galinda. “Your father told me you’re also interested in architecture. Why don’t you study that instead?” 

Galinda wanted to tell her that she wasn’t passionate about Architecture the way she was passionate about Sorcery. She liked being able to recognize different building styles and the history behind them, but she didn’t think about them as often as she thought about magic: every day of her life. She didn’t dream about being able to design buildings the way she dreamed about being a sorceress, able to give Ozians their heart’s desire with a mere wave of her hand, just like Father. But she knew it was no use arguing with Madame Morrible. She only took the best of the best--and after all of these years, even Galinda had been forced to acknowledge that she had no natural affinity for magic. So she’d forced herself to smile at Madame Morrible and say “Thank you for your consideration.” 

That night she had crumpled the essay into the smallest ball she could make and thrown it into the fireplace, watching with satisfaction as it turned to ashes. 

Father had taken her disappointment in stride. “Well, we really need architects more than we need sorcerers,” he’d told her over dinner. “Magic as a science is tricky and inexact. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But math never lies.” He’d reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “And I know you’re going to be the best architect working in this city, kid. If that’s what you want to do.” His words had helped, a little bit. But it had still served to remind Galinda of just how different they were, as if she hadn’t already known it. No matter what the adoption paperwork said, Oscar Diggs wasn’t related to her by blood so he couldn’t pass down his magic to her. Galinda knew the Upland family had a history of magic; perhaps he’d adopted her hoping that she would someday show an aptitude for it. If that was the case, he was probably sorely disappointed. 

So Galinda didn’t try to plead her case with Madame Morrible one last time. She half listened to Pfannee and ShenShen prattle on about something meaningless while she surveyed the courtyard looking for other people to network with. There was a Munchkin sitting two rows behind her, trying to catch her eye; she gave him a polite smile and then looked away. There was the Governor of Munchkinland’s daughter, sitting in a beautiful wooden wheeled chair. Miss Nessarose Thropp, Galinda’s brain supplied. She would be a perfect person to talk to, since she would be Governor herself someday. The Governor had opted to skip over his firstborn child because of some defect that he claimed prevented her from ruling properly--

The green skinned girl was standing next to Nessarose, speaking to her quietly. They laughed, and from just the way they looked at each other Glinda could tell they were sisters. 

Governor Thropp must have considered green skin a defect. Oh. 

Galinda had always wanted a sister. But she was her birth parents’ only child, and they had died when she was less than a year old. They’d gone to see a play in Frottica and left her at home with her Ama. By the time the play finished the wind had picked up and the air was filled with driving snow. All of her parents’ friends had begged them to stay in Frottica until the storm passed, but they’d insisted they needed to return home. They’d faced snowstorms before, they’d said. They would be fine. 

They never made it back. Ama Clutch sat awake into the night, long after Galinda had fallen asleep. Finally, just after three in the morning, she called the police. The carriage was found the following afternoon, at the bottom of a steep ravine. The horses had slipped on ice and hadn’t been able to catch themselves before they went over the edge of the cliff, taking the carriage down with them. There were no survivors. Galinda's grandmother had been inconsolable. She'd died from a broken heart a month later. And her only aunt had disappeared two weeks after that. At 10 months old, Galinda had been all alone in the world, until the Wizard adopted her. He said he knew what it was like to not have any family, and he hadn't wanted her to grow up alone like he did. "Your story reminded me of myself," he'd said, when Galinda had asked about it. But he didn't volunteer anything else. Father didn't talk much about the world that he came from.

Suddenly Nessarose Thropp flew into the air, screaming. Other things were flying into the air too: bookbags, pencils, room keys, even the benches that had been lined up in neat rows in front of the dais. ShenShen pushed Galinda out of the way as the bench nearest to them slammed against the wall with an almighty crack. “What in Oz?” Pfannee asked, holding his bookbag to his chest like a particularly ineffective shield. 

As suddenly as everything had risen into the air, it all came crashing back down-except for Nessarose, who glided neatly to a stop at her sister’s feet. People scrambled to pick up their dropped bags and books and room keys, shooting disbelieving and frightened looks at the Thropp sisters. For a moment Galinda almost felt sorry for them until she realized what had actually happened. The eldest Thropp daughter had used real magic, magic that would certainly get her accepted into Madame Morrible’s Sorcery Seminar. Sure enough, Madame Morrible was already striding across the lawn towards them, with a smile on her face.

Something that might have been jealousy twisted in Galinda’s gut. 

Madame Morrible tried to play the display of magic off as hers, but Galinda knew better. She had seen the look in the girl’s eyes when she’d realized what she’d done, the way that Nessarose had glared at her. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Then Madame Morrible walked over to the older sister and drew her aside, leaning towards her so they could talk in low voices. Galinda watched the girl’s eyes light up, a smile spreading across her face, Madame Morrible grabbing her hands and squeezing tightly. 

And then they began to walk across the lawn towards her. “Miss Galinda,” Madame Morrible said, inclining her head slightly because she was just Galinda Upland here, not the Emerald Princess. “You’re settling in well, I trust?” She kept talking before Galinda could get a word in edgewise, tugging the other girl forward. “This is Miss Elphaba Thropp. She is a…rather new addition to the student body, and I’m afraid there’s been a bit of misunderstanding about accommodations. There are no free rooms for her, so I told her that she could room with you. You have a private suite, don’t you? I’m sure there’s room for another bed and desk.” 

“I…” Galinda had never shared a room with anyone before, and she didn’t really want to start now. Especially if her new roommate--Miss Elphaba--despised her as much as she clearly did. 

Elphaba looked down at the tall black boots she was wearing. They should have looked ridiculous on her, especially when paired with her long black dress, but instead she managed to look almost regal. It was just the tiniest bit infuriating, how she clearly didn't give a fig about what she wore and certainly didn't spend hours obsessing over her wardrobe, but looked pretty anyway. “Madame Morrible, I really don’t want to cause any trouble. I’m sure I can stay with Nessa until we can find something more permanent--” 

“Nonsense,” Madame Morrible said. “I’m sure that Miss Galinda will be happy to help you.” She looked at Galinda, her gaze almost beseeching. We’ll talk about this later, it seemed to say. 

“All right,” Galinda said, looking down at Elphaba’s shoes. 

“That’s very good of you, dearie.” Madame Morrible squeezed her shoulder. “The extra furniture should be in the suite within the hour, Miss Elphaba. Miss Galinda, I hope your first week goes well. I’ll expect you for tea after your last class on Friday, so you can tell me about how you’re settling in.” She gave Galinda a small, almost private, smile and then strode back across the quad and through the stone entryway. 

For a moment, the two reluctant roommates just stared at each other. Miss Elphaba seemed, if not quite apologetic, then not far from it either. “I’ll see you upstairs,” Galinda finally said, shouldering her bag and turning away. 

Miss Elphaba didn’t call her back. 

//

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s quite all right, Miss Elphaba.” Galinda’s voice came out stiffly formal, like she was speaking to a member of Father’s ruling council. She didn’t look at her new roommate, focusing instead on arranging her Architecture books on the shelf above her desk. 

“You don’t need to call me Miss,” Elphaba said, as she made her bed. Galinda noticed she didn’t hang anything in the wardrobe, or set any bottles of perfume or makeup out on her vanity. Then again, Madame Morrible had said that Elphaba hadn’t been an enrolled student so perhaps she hadn’t brought any of her own belongings because she had just come to drop off Nessarose. What was she planning to sleep in? “We’re going to be roommates. You can just call me Elphaba.” 

“Oh.” Another uncomfortable silence stretched out between them. “Then you can call me Galinda.” 

She quirked an eyebrow. “Not Your Highness?” 

“I…no. I’m not a princess here. You don’t need to follow formalities.” 

“Good to know,” Elphaba said in a way that suggested she didn’t believe her. Silence fell again. 

Galinda tried to stifle a sigh. This was going to be a long year. 

She left the dorm as soon as she’d unpacked, to find Pfannee and ShenShen and meet some other students. Pfannee and ShenShen were suitably apologetic, exclaiming over and over again that they didn’t understand why Madame Morrible would make her share a suite with someone that had Elphaba’s verdigris. 

ShenShen gasped so loudly that everyone sitting in the dining hall turned to look at her. “You could write to the Wizard. I’m sure he could have Miss Elphaba expelled!” Pfannee nodded in agreement. 

“Well, I certainly don’t want to expel her!” If she wrote to Father and explained that she had a roommate that hated her, he probably would write to Miss Coddle and tell her to foist Elphaba upon some other unsuspecting private suite enjoyer. But Galinda knew that Madame Morrible wouldn’t ask her to room with Elphaba unless she had a good reason for it. She had to at least wait until her tea with the sorceress at the end of the week before she wrote to Father. 

She just had to get through five nights with Elphaba. 

“You’re so good, Galinda,” ShenShen said, patting her shoulder while Pfannee’s eyes glistened with surprising tears. “I could never be so patient with someone like that.” 

“She’s an abomination,” Pfannee whispered. “I’m shocked the Governor even lets her out of the house--” 

An almighty crash split the air. Galinda swiveled around to see Elphaba standing near a table behind them. She’d dropped her tray and her bowl had shattered, sending hot stew running everywhere. An apple bounced across the floor, knocking against someone’s foot. He picked his foot up quickly, like he thought he could catch green skin just by touching an apple that Elphaba had once touched. For just a moment, Galinda felt sorry for her. It must be entirely exhaustifying to spend so much time around people who hated her for something she couldn’t control and couldn’t change. She knew how it felt to be different. She couldn't imagine being hated for it too. 

Then she realized Elphaba was looking right at them. Oz, had she heard Pfannee?

Judging by the way she was glaring at them, she must have. Hell and Oz. 

One of the staff members bustled over to clean up the shattered porcelain. He tried to say something to her, but Elphaba was already moving, right out of the dining hall. “I think you hurt the artichoke’s feelings,” ShenShen said, and she and Pfannee both started to laugh. Galinda felt vaguely ill. 

She knew it would look suspicious if she left right after Elphaba, so she forced herself to eat a few more bites before she said “I’m not feeling well. I think I need to lie down for a while.” Pfannee and ShenShen fought over who would get to walk her upstairs, but Galinda insisted she could get to her dormitory by herself. She barely had the presence of mind to grab a few things for Elphaba, since she hadn’t had anything to eat. As soon as she was alone in the hallway, the voices of the dining hall fading behind her, Glinda raced up the stairwell. 

Elphaba was sitting at her desk, reading a book. She was still wearing her dress from earlier in the day. “I’m so sorry they said those horrendible things,” Galinda started to say, but Elphaba cut her off. 

“I didn’t hear you stopping them,” she said, her voice flat. 

Galinda bit her lip until she tasted blood. Oz, things were going from bad to worse. She was used to charming every person she met--why was it so impossible for her to charm Elphaba Thropp? “I brought some things for you.” She set them out on the desk: an apple, a couple pieces of bread, a cookie. “I know it isn’t much, but…” 

“Thank you,” Elphaba said stiffly. She still didn’t look at Galinda, but her voice softened a little bit. 

“And for what it’s worth…I think your skin is a very nice shade of green. I was just surprised, when I said that. I wasn’t expecting to see you. But I didn’t mean to imply--” 

“It’s all right,” Elphaba said, setting aside her book and rolling the apple across the desk. “Nessa says I could have been less…prickly. When most people bring up the verdigris, they mean it as an insult.” 

“I can imagine,” Galinda said, and then blushed. “I didn’t mean--” 

“That’s all right.” Elphaba gave her the tiniest of smiles, but it seemed real--not like the plastered on smiles that Father’s courtiers wore at the Emerald Palace. 

“I’m normally better at this. Father did teach me how to talk to people. It’s not like I’ve been locked up in that palace for the last twenty years--” 

Elphaba let out a small laugh, tearing off a piece of bread. “Father would have locked me up if he could.” 

At first Glinda thought it was just another joke, a piece of back and forth banter in the game they were playing. But Elphaba’s face didn’t relax into a smile and she realized it wasn’t. “Oh. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not,” Elphaba said, quickly. Maybe too quickly. “I’m here now, in any case.” 

Another silence. Softer, this time. 

Glinda cleared her throat. “What are you going to wear to bed tonight, since your clothes haven’t arrived yet?” 

Elphaba shrugged, biting into the apple. She didn’t look at Galinda. “Just this, I guess. I’ll buy some things in town tomorrow. I’d ask Nessa to lend me something of hers, but I’m a little bit taller than she is-” 

“You could wear something of mine, if you want.” She pointed to the chests stacked along the walls, to her dresses hanging in the wardrobe and her winter dresses hanging on a clothing rack that she’d just managed to tuck into a corner of the room. Father had always made sure that she had plenty of outfits. “First impressions are important, Galinda,” he’d tell her when the boxes arrived from the dressmakers’. “You can’t make another one.” 

Elphaba’s skin seemed to turn a little greener. “I couldn’t impose.” 

“You wouldn’t be imposing. As you can see, I have plenty. You can borrow something until your things arrive.” Galinda skipped to her wardrobe, rummaging among a row of identical white nightdresses. She pulled one out at random, the silk soft against her fingertips. “Here.” She set it on the edge of Elphaba’s desk. 

Elphaba ran her fingers against the silk, her expression impossible to read. “Why are you being so kind?” she asked, her fingers trailing across the embroidery near the bodice: a green W. 

“Why would I be cruel?” Galinda asked honestly. She had everything she could want. So many others in Oz weren’t as fortunate. What was the point in holding it against them?

Elphaba didn’t say anything for a moment. When she did say “Thank you,” her voice was low and soft. 

“Of course,” Galinda replied. “What are roommates for?” 

And for that night, at least, their silence felt a little less pointed. They weren’t friends yet-not quite. But maybe someday they could be. 

Maybe surviving five nights with Elphaba Thropp wouldn't be quite so terrible.

Chapter Text

Galinda’s first week of classes passed uneventfully. She took most of her classes with the rest of the first years, including Elphaba, and her elective class--Introduction to Architecture---on Friday afternoons. 

Her tentative truce with Elphaba held. They didn’t have any more arguments, even if the tension in the air didn’t fully dissipate. There were a few close calls. The first time Galinda switched her pink lamp on at night she could hear the rustle of blankets as Elphaba turned over onto her side. “How long will you have the light on?” she asked. 

“...All night?” Her voice tilted up at the end, turning it into a question. Galinda had slept with a lamp on for as long as she could remember. She'd never liked the dark. Her bedroom in the Emerald Palace was so big that the corners were plunged into shadow. Sometimes when she woke up in the middle of night, still half in the throes of a dream, they seemed to move strangely. 

For a long moment, Elphaba didn’t say anything. Galinda could practically hear her disapproval. “All night?” she repeated. 

“Yes. Will that be a problem?” 

“No,” Elphaba said, unconvincingly. She turned over but Galinda knew she didn’t go to sleep. Her breathing stayed uneven, almost annoyed. Galinda was beginning to get the feeling that almost everything she did annoyed Elphaba. It was strange—she’d been able to charm everyone at Shiz except for her roommate. But Elphaba Thropp was unlike anyone she’d met before. She was entirely unapologetically herself. And Galinda couldn't seem to stop thinking about her.

Elphaba’s belongings arrived the next day. Her clothing fit into one trunk: a handful of dresses, two nightgowns that were beginning to fray near the elbows, another pair of boots, and the most basic of toiletries. All of the dresses were at least ten years out of date. Most of the stockings had holes near the toes. Galinda tried to focus on her Architecture homework as Elphaba unpacked, hanging the dresses far apart in her wardrobe so it looked like they took up more space. Galinda didn't say anything, even though she thought it was strange that the Governor of Munchkinland seemingly couldn’t afford to buy his eldest child the kinds of clothing that her rank entitled her to. 

Galinda rarely saw Elphaba in the dining hall. At first she thought that Elphaba, understandably, didn’t want to eat in front of the other students after Pfannee and ShenShen had been so cruel to her. But Elphaba didn't really seem to eat full meals. She usually only took one or two things from the table of foods that students could take upstairs with them if they were too busy for a sit down meal. She didn't go into town often, so Galinda doubted she was eating there. Sometimes she brought extra food back to her dorm room, pretending she'd brought leftovers but Elphaba could have some if she'd like. Elphaba always ate them, usually while Galinda wasn't in the room. 

On the first day of classes she invited Elphaba to have breakfast with her before Linguification, but Elphaba shook her head. “The last of my textbooks just came in at the book store. I have to pick them up.” 

The bookstore was at least a fifteen minute walk from campus. If Elphaba was planning to go there and get back before class started, she wouldn’t have time to stop at the dining hall. “I could pick something up for you if you want--” 

“I’m fine, Galinda,” Elphaba snapped, and then her voice softened. “You don’t need to worry about me,” she said more quietly. “I’ll get something to eat at a coffee shop in town.” 

Elphaba wasn’t at dinner that night. In fact, Galinda didn’t see her in the dining hall until lunch the next day, when she picked up a small salad and a couple of apples. While Pfannee droned on about the cute boy that he shared a desk with in Alchemy, Galinda watched as Elphaba went over to the till and drew a small coin purse out of the pocket of her skirt. She talked with the cashier for a moment, opened her purse and rummaged inside, and then handed him some bills and put the apples back. 

Galinda didn’t want to be concerned for her roommate, but she couldn’t help it—especially since Nessarose didn’t seem to be counting her pennies at all. She’d come up to Galinda to introduce herself after Linguification and said she hoped that they could be friends. She seemed like a nice girl, with a pretty smile and a sketchbook that she kept half hidden under all of her textbooks. Galinda saw her doodling in class sometimes, when their teachers’ lectures had droned on for too long. Nessarose always wore the newest fashions and she wore a new dress practically every day of the week. Her shoes all seemed brand new too. She took every meal in the dining hall, sitting with a different group of people every time. If the Thropps were poor, she was doing a very good job of hiding it. But Galinda suspected the Thropps weren’t poor at all. 

Elphaba always seemed to be absorbed in her schoolwork or the piles of books she checked out from the library, so Galinda found herself spending less and less time in her dorm room, exploring the campus and finding quiet and out of the way places where she could do her homework. It was hard to get any work done in any of the common areas, because people were always coming up to introduce themselves. Even if no one was talking to her she could always feel the stares on the back of her neck, the whispers behind hands that stopped when she turned around. 

It's terrible what happened to her parents, she imagined they might have said. But it seems like it worked out for her in the end, didn't it?

And then there were her classes. Galinda liked some of them more than others, but overall she loved being at Shiz. She loved being in a classroom full of her peers, instead of in her study at the Emerald Palace with only a governess for company. She loved meeting all of the different professors and seeing the enthusiasm with which they talked about their subjects. She only had one Animal professor—a Goat named Dr. Dillamond, who taught the first year History seminar. Galinda hadn’t particularly been looking forward to History—the readings on the syllabus looked positively formidable—but it was required for all first years. She arrived late on the first day, having gotten lost in the wrong tower while trying to find the classroom, and the only open desk was next to Elphaba. She’d tried to ignore the flush that colored her cheeks while she pulled her books out of her bag, while Dr. Dillamond went over the syllabus that had been mailed to them the week before. 

Galinda was only half paying attention as he took attendance. “Gli-i-inda Upland?” 

“Present. And it’s Galinda. With a Guh,” she said, but she looked up from her pencil sharpener. There was something different in the way he said her name, a pause that hadn’t been present when he said any other student's name. She felt the soft hairs on her arm stand at attention.

The Goat marked something down on his sheet of paper and there was another unusual pause. He looked up and gave her a quick smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Gl-i-inda." The pronunciation was still wrong, but at least he seemed to be making an effort. "I was very good friends with your parents while we were at Shiz together.” He looked down at his sheet of paper again. “Amerie Zapeta?” 

But Galinda was no longer listening. Or rather, she couldn’t move past what he’d already said. I was very good friends with your parents. Galinda knew very few people who had actually known her parents in real life, especially on anything more than a superficial level. All the people who would have known them best—her grandparents, her aunt—were all either dead or missing. She’d met some people in the Gillikinese nobility who had known her parents at their respective preparatory schools, but the things they told her could have applied to anyone: her parents had been popular, vivacious, outgoing, kind. Almost none of the stories had a personal touch to them. Father knew even less because he had never met her parents. He said that perhaps it was a blessing, because the less she knew about them the less she would miss them. Galinda didn’t think that was true. She still missed her parents plenty, but she could only miss them abstractly. She could only miss the idea of them, because she knew hardly anything about who they were as people. 

If Dr. Dillamond really had known her parents while they were at school, maybe he could tell her more about them. Maybe she could finally flesh out the picture of them that she tried to build up in her head: their likes, their dislikes, their passions and foibles and, most importantly, what could have possessed them to try to drive home from Frottica in weather like that. 

She tried to pay attention to the lecture but she kept losing focus. As soon as Dr. Dillamond dismissed them she rushed to the library, asking the librarian sitting at the front desk if the school kept any of their old yearbooks. She didn’t want to get her hopes up, not yet, but she could already feel her heart start to beat a little bit faster. The librarian, almost unconsciously sitting up a little bit straighter, told her that any old yearbooks would be kept on the second floor. 

Galinda roamed the stacks, searching until she found the rows and rows of golden Shiz yearbooks. The years were printed on the spine, an incomplete set going back fifty years. She trailed her fingers along their spines until she reached the years that her parents would have been in Shiz. Two of the yearbooks were missing, but the yearbooks for their first and second years were still there, neatly wedged into place. She pulled them off the shelf almost reverently, feeling the reassuring weight of them in her arms. 

“What are you looking at?” a voice asked behind her. 

She nearly dropped the books on her feet. Elphaba was standing behind her. Their History textbook was tucked under her arm, her half finished essay slipped in between the pages to mark her place. They were less than a week into their classes and she’d already started working on an essay that wasn’t due for another two weeks. “I’m sorry,” Elphaba said, shifting the book to her other arm. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just didn’t know you studied in the library.” 

“I don’t, usually. I was looking for these.” Galinda held up the yearbooks and then sat down on the carpet, her back resting against the shelves. Elphaba sat down beside her, setting her textbook on the ground. “I found books for two of the years they were at Shiz.” Elphaba didn’t say anything, but she didn’t go back to her desk. Instead, she watched as Galinda began to flip through the pages until she reached the class of first years. 

Galinda scanned the list of names, trailing her finger along the glossy paper until she found her father, near the top. Highmuster Arduenna. He had a head of blond hair, a shade darker than Galinda’s, and friendly eyes that were creased in a smile. They were deep brown eyes, just like hers. Flipping to the end of the list, she found her mother. Larena Upland. Her hair was the same shade as Galinda’s, hanging around her shoulders in perfect curls. Her skin was flawless, her blue eyes full of the same vivacity as Father’s. She wore a pretty light blue dress, a necklace with a single pearl hanging around her neck. Galinda touched her picture, almost unconsciously. 

Galinda treasured every photograph she’d ever been able to find of her parents. There weren’t many, comparatively speaking; they’d only been 24 years old when they died. Before Galinda had been dispatched to the Emerald Palace her old nurse, Ama Clutch, had made a photo album for her with every picture of the Uplands she could find. Galinda had pored over it so many times the corners of the pages were turning soft and worn. Stupidly, it hadn’t occurred to her that there could be more photos that she hadn’t found yet. 

She stared directly into her mother’s eyes. Almost everyone who had ever met Larena Upland said she was beautiful. Galinda had been told, more times than she could count, that she should be grateful she’d gotten her parents’ looks. But Galinda was more interested in what the picture couldn’t tell her: what were her parents like behind the camera? What made them laugh? When had they fallen in love? What had they studied at school? What would they have done with their lives if they’d had a little more time? 

Maybe Dr. Dillamond had some of those answers. She flipped back to find his picture, under the Ds. There he was: Desmond Dillamond. He looked much like he did now, except his fur was perhaps a little shorter and his glasses had rounder frames. He was also smiling broadly. Almost everyone was; they all knew how lucky they were to be at Shiz. They were all waiting for their lives to begin. 

They had no way of knowing that some of their lives would be shorter than others’. 

She paged ahead further, into the photographs of student organizations and sponsored events, her heart rate picking up every time she saw a flash of blonde hair. But she didn’t find her parents again until she reached the third to last page. They were sitting at a table in the library with Dr. Dillamond and two other students that Galinda didn’t recognize, their heads bent over a book. Her parents were holding hands, their fingertips just visible at the edge of the photograph. Galinda felt sudden tears sting at the backs of her eyes. 

There was a rustling beside her and she felt Elphaba wordlessly press a handkerchief into her hand. “Thank you,” Galinda whispered, dabbing furiously at her eyes. 

Elphaba didn’t say anything else. She didn’t have to. 

Nessarose was sitting alone at dinner that night, glancing up nervously every so often as she cut her meat into smaller and smaller pieces. No one was ignoring her, exactly—but no one else was asking her to sit with them either. 

Before Galinda really had time to think about it, she walked towards her table instead of Pfannee and ShenShen’s. She set her tray down on the opposite side of the table. “Nessarose, do you mind if I sit here?” 

Nessarose looked up in surprise, then at the empty chairs surrounding them. “I…no, of course not. Please take a seat.” Galinda did, ignoring ShenShen’s waving hand. “And you can just call me Nessa. Most people do."

“Galinda Upland. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She held out a hand for Nessa to shake. 

“I know who you are,” Nessa said, and then blushed. “Sorry. It’s just that--” 

“It’s quite all right,” Galinda said, giving her a conspiratorial smile that was designed to put her at ease. “I’d be surprised if anyone in this room doesn’t know who I am.” 

“Well yes, there’s that. But I’ve also been hearing a lot about you from Elphaba.” 

Galinda hoped her blush didn’t show on her cheeks. “All good things, I hope?” 

“Of course,” Nessa said, but Galinda couldn’t tell if she was lying to make her feel better. “I’m sorry about her. She can be so prickly around people she doesn’t know. She always believes the worst about them.” 

Galinda recalled the way Pfannee and ShenShen had talked about her, when they’d never even had a conversation with her. They’d called her an abomination, as if she’d committed some crime against nature just by virtue of being born green. “I’m not surprised, given how people act around her.” 

Nessa’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, people can be cruel.” She glanced around the dining hall, at all the people who weren’t quite looking their way. “Though I’m sure you don’t experience that, being the Wizard’s daughter and all.” 

And she was right. No one would dare insult Galinda to her face. But that word, daughter, made something in her chest ache. She wasn’t his daughter, not really. She was only in the position she was in because her entire family had died and there had been no one left to take her in. At least Elphaba and Nessa had each other. They would always know they’d had someone to belong to, since the moment Nessa was born. Galinda didn’t have that. Most of the time it was fine, because Father treated her like the daughter he’d never had. But sometimes she still managed to feel unspeakably lonely. 

If anyone knew how she was feeling, she knew they would call her ungrateful. She had everything she could possibly want, and she still wanted more. She wanted the one thing that Father could never give her. 

She must have been quiet for too long, because Nessa’s face fell. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?” 

“No, not at all.” Galinda smiled at her. “You’re right. I’m lucky, in many ways.” She didn't want anyone to think she was being ungrateful, not when she knew just how lucky she was. She tried to change the subject. “That’s a beautiful dress. Where did you get it?” 

Nessa smiled, fingering the pale green sleeve of her dress almost absentmindedly. “Oh, this? I got it at a boutique in Munchkinland last year.” Boutique clothes were pricey. If Galinda had to guess, Nessa shopped at boutiques almost exclusively. 

“At least one of the Thropp sisters appreciates color.” She tried to keep her voice light, not wanting it to come off as an insult. 

Nessa certainly didn’t seem offended. “Well, Elphaba has always been original.” 

“Do you shop at the same stores?” 

Nessa bit her lip. “Elphaba doesn’t really like to shop, especially not for clothes.” 

Did she not like shopping, or did she just not have any money? But Galinda didn’t push, not wanting to make Nessa suspicious. “Does your father give you both allowances?” Nessa nodded. “And Elphaba gets the same amount as you do?” 

“Why wouldn’t she?” Nessa asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

Galinda toyed with telling her about the skipped meals, the bare wardrobe, the threadbare shoes. She’d heard how large the Governor’s House, Colwen Grounds, was. It was possible that Nessa didn’t know that her sister didn’t have the same opportunities she did, especially if Elphaba was determined to hide the disparities from her. But Galinda didn’t know how Elphaba would react to her going to Nessa first, instead of talking with her. Maybe she was a picky eater or had to eat specially prepared food. Maybe she really just preferred to eat in her room because she wanted to avoid the other students’ stares. 

There was an orphanage in the Emerald City, two streets down from the Palace, where Galinda had volunteered for three hours a week ever since she was twelve years old. Father had encouraged it, saying that it was important to see how other people in Oz lived, especially the more unfortunate. "Not everyone lives the way you do, Galinda," he'd said. So she’d seen plenty of hungry children before, children whose parents couldn’t afford to feed them. But she’d never heard of a father who could more than support both of his children but only chose to support one of them. It made rage flare in her gut. 

Instead all she said was “Have you talked to her recently?” 

“Elphaba? A little bit, but we've mostly been busy with classes,” Nessa said. “Why?” 

‘No reason,” Galinda said. “I just wondered if you were close. I don't have any siblings, as you know, and it's interesting to hear about other people's.” 

Nessa thought for a moment as she took another bite of her pasta. “I wouldn’t say we’re very close. We love each other, of course, but…we have very different interests. And…” She hesitated, dragging her fork through her pasta. “It’s not that I don’t love Elphaba. I really, really do. But she’s not always the easiest person to live with. She doesn’t try to make trouble, but you saw what happened in the quad on our first day.” Galinda remembered how Nessa had turned away from her sister after she'd returned to the ground, how she’d whispered something that had made Elphaba’s face fall, and Galinda had been sure it wasn’t the first time Elphaba’s magic had reacted like that. “It’s…tiring. I'm freakish enough as it is. Having Elphaba nearby just compounds it. I wish she could be a little more normal sometimes, but she can’t be. I know Father wishes that too.”

“Some things Elphaba said, about your father—”

Nessa winced. “He’s never liked Elphaba. It’s unfair, but it’s the truth.” 

Galinda wanted to ask her if he disliked her so much he wouldn’t give her enough money for food. Instead, she steered their conversation to safer topics: their Linguification homework, their History essay. But Nessa’s words stayed lodged in her head. He’s never liked Elphaba. 

"You're certainly not freakish, Nessa," Galinda said. Nessa smiled so brightly her eyes lit up.

They talked about their classes for the rest of the meal, but Galinda simply couldn't understand how someone could dislike their own daughter that much, especially for something she couldn't help. 

After her last class, Galinda went to Madame Morrible’s office for tea. 

Madame Morrible’s office was at the top of one of the school’s towers, with a commanding view over the canals, across the poppy fields, and down to the city of Shiz itself. It was a large room, but cozy: a soft rug covering the stone floor, two overstuffed armchairs positioned in front of a fire blazing merrily in the grate, long cabinets lining the walls filled with teaching awards and all manner of magical curiosities. “Take a seat, dearie,” Madame Morrible said as Galinda opened the door. A tea kettle started to whistle in the background and she silenced it with a wave of her hand. 

Galinda sank down into one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, closing her eyes for a moment. She heard Madame Morrible’s shoes clicking on the stone, and then the sorceress handed her a cup of tea. Rosewater and lavender—her favorite. “How was your first week, dearie?” Madame Morrible asked, taking the seat across from her. “I want to hear about everything.” 

Galinda told her about her classes, her homework assignments, Pfannee and ShenShen and Nessa. Madame Morrible’s lips pursed when she told her about Dr. Dillamond. “Well I’m not sure how well he knew your parents, dearie. There were many people—and a few Animals—in their year. That doesn’t mean they were friends with everyone. And in any case, that was a very long time ago. I doubt Dr. Dillamond kept in contact with them after they graduated.”

Galinda thought about the picture in the yearbook: her parents, Dr. Dillamond, and a couple of other students all crowded around the table with their heads bent over a book. They’d certainly seemed close then. And Frottica wasn’t too far from Shiz. It would have been easy enough for them to keep in touch if they had wanted to. 

But Madame Morrible had already started to talk again. “How are you enjoying architecture, dearie?” 

“It’s interesting,” Galinda said truthfully. It wasn’t Sorcery, but she’d gotten the top grade in the class on her first assignment. It had made her strangely proud, considering she’d never had to compete with anyone for the best grades before. 

Madame Morrible set her teacup aside, studying Galinda with her piercing dark eyes. “I don’t usually do this, Miss Galinda, but…a spot has opened up in my Sorcery Seminar, if you would like to take it. You would have to take it on as an extra class, so you'd have more homework, but I understand how much you wish to study Sorcery.” 

Galinda nearly dropped her teacup. “I…but Madame Morrible, you know my powers aren’t—” 

“You haven’t shown any appreciable magical talent yet.” Madame Morrible drummed her fingers on the side table. “But occasionally magic manifests itself in times of great change—and what change is more fundamental in a girl’s life than that from child to woman? I am willing to let you join Sorcery Seminar for one year, in order to monitor any…changes that may result.” 

For a moment, Galinda couldn’t speak. She’d always wanted to join Sorcery Seminar, and now she finally had her chance! But just a couple of weeks ago, Madame Morrible insisted that she couldn’t take her on as a student. What had changed? 

Galinda glanced over at Morrible’s desk, where a letter with Father’s seal was half visible under the bowl of teabags. Her heart sank. “Did you talk to Father? Did he put you up to this? Because I don’t want you to take me on as a student if you don’t believe that I can ever become a great sorceress, like you.” 

Morrible smiled at her indulgently. “No, dearie. He didn’t. When I decided to take on Miss Elphaba as a student, I knew I would ask you to study with her. Fledgling magic can be encouraged by the right sort of company.” She squeezed Galinda’s hand. “Well, dearie?” 

“That’s a very generous offer, Madame Morrible. But if you want me to be in the class…of course I will be.” They both knew she’d wanted to be a sorceress ever since she knew what the world meant. She certainly wasn’t going to turn down an offer to study magic in Madame Morrible’s private seminar. Even if she wouldn’t be any better at it now than she had been for the last decade. 

“I’ll leave the paperwork with Miss Coddle tonight,” Madame Morrible said. “You’re sure you can take on another class this year, dearie?” 

Galinda nodded, her jaw set. “I’ll work as hard as I can.” 

“I know you will, dearie.” They drank their tea in silence for a few moments. It had begun to rain outside the dormer windows; Galinda watched a group of students flee for cover, their book bags pulled over their heads to protect them from the rain. “How is your roommate settling in? Have the two of you been getting along?” 

“Yes, mostly,” Galinda said. 

“How has she been finding Shiz?” 

“I think she likes it. She’s always working on schoolwork when I get back from classes.” She picked at a loose thread in the arm of the chair. For a moment she almost told Madame Morrible about how frequently Elphaba was skipping meals and nearly asked for her advice. But then Madame Morrible would have to talk to Elphaba, might even talk to Miss Coddle. Word might get out that the Governor of Munchkinland was mistreating his daughter. Elphaba would feel humiliated. So she didn’t say anything, just stirred her tea and watched the tea leaves settle at the bottom of her cup. 

“Thank you for your kindness and generosity in sharing your room. As I’m sure you’ve realized, Miss Elphaba was never meant to be a student here at Shiz. But power like that can’t be left underdeveloped, so that it withers on the vine—or in Munchkinland, as the case may be. Just think of all the good that power like hers could do for your father. For all of Oz.” Galinda nodded. She took another sip of tea, but it was starting to go cold and it twisted in her stomach. “Real magic is already rare as it is. Miss Elphaba could be very, very useful to us. That’s why I’d like you to be especially friendly to her. Make sure Shiz feels like her home.” 

“Of course, Madame Morrible.” Her stomach twisted further. She knew this feeling, felt it every time she saw a girl strolling down the long streets lined with shops in the Emerald City, hand in hand with her mother. 

Jealousy.

She wasn’t being invited to Sorcery Seminar because Madame Morrible had suddenly changed her mind and decided she would make a good sorceress. She was being invited to Sorcery Seminar to be a companion for Miss Elphaba, who had shown more magical talent in five minutes than Galinda had been able to muster in her entire life. 

“I knew I could count on you.” Madame Morrible grabbed a plate of scones off the windowsill and set it on the table in between them. “Would you like something to eat, dearie? I’m sure you’ve had a long week.” 

“I’m not hungry,” Galinda said, even as she grabbed two scones. “But I will bring some back for Miss Elphaba. I know she’s partial to them.” 

When Galinda came back from the dining hall that night, both of the scones had been eaten. “I brought extras,” she said, setting some fruit and a small bowl of soup with a lid closed over the top to keep it warm down on the edge of Elphaba’s desk. 

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been bringing back extras a lot lately.” 

Galinda bit her lip. “You seem like you might appreciate them.” She could tell, just from the shift in Elphaba’s silence, that this had been the wrong thing to say. “It’s just that you’re rarely in the dining hall,” she said quickly. “I want to make sure you’re getting enough to eat.” 

“I am, thank you.” Elphaba’s voice was flat, almost annoyed. “You don’t have to worry about me, Galinda. I can take care of myself.” 

“You were short of money for breakfast this morning.” 

Elphaba’s hand tightened around her pen. “It’s none of your business, Your Highness.” Galinda’s title had never sounded so much like an insult before. “I don’t need your pity.” 

Galinda took a step back, like she'd been slapped. “Oh, it wasn’t pity. More like concern--” 

“I don’t need that, either,” Elphaba said. “And I certainly don’t need you to watch me pay for my breakfast—”

“Your father doesn’t give you an allowance, does he? At least, not the same allowance he gives Nessa.” 

Elphaba was quiet for so long that Galinda worried she wasn’t going to answer at all. “He doesn’t give Nessa an allowance,” she finally said. “She can buy whatever she wants. For me, there are…limits. Most of the week’s money went to my textbooks. Next week, there will be more money for food. I won't need your extras."

“But…why are there limits for you?” She simply couldn’t imagine why Elphaba’s father wouldn’t make sure she had enough to eat. 

“Because I’m not going to be the next Governor,” Elphaba said simply. 

Rage built in the pit of Galinda’s stomach. “So he thinks you should starve?” 

“Galinda, it’s only a week—” 

“Still. It’s unacceptable.” She stood up. She didn’t know where she was going to go—to Nessa maybe, or even Madame Morrible—but Elphaba’s hand closed around her wrist. Her fingertips sent hot sparks dancing though Galinda’s skin. 

“Galinda, don’t,” she said warningly. “I don’t want you to interfere for me.” 

“But--” 

“It isn’t worth it.” 

“It is if you can’t eat.” 

“It’s only for two more days.” 

“That’s still two days.” This time, when Galinda shoved the food towards her, Elphaba didn’t protest. She took the lid off the soup and took a couple of bites. “Does Nessa know?” 

Elphaba shook her head. “She would lend me some money, if she did. But she’ll worry.” 

“Perhaps she’ll talk to your father—”

But Elphaba was still shaking her head. “Father loves Nessa, but he won’t listen to her. Not about this, at least.” There was something hard in her voice that told Galinda the conversation was finished. For now, at least, because there was no way Galinda was going to let this go. “And it doesn’t give you an excuse to go poking into our business.” 

“It does if you’re starving.” Galinda sat down on the edge of her bed. 

“I’m not starving,” Elphaba said, even though she’d already finished the bowl of soup. “And really, I don’t see why you care—” 

“I’m Galinda the Good. I’m supposed to care.” It was what Father had told her, when he'd given her the title, when it became clear that she didn't have magic. He'd been trying to make her feel better. She could use her unique position to be a voice for the most marginalized people in Oz: children, single mothers, the sick. “I visit orphanages at least once a week, and last year I helped rally support on a child welfare bill—” 

But Elphaba was shaking her head. “I’m sure you're only shown the nice parts of things.” 

“I’ve seen things—” 

“Sanitized things. Polite things that look good for your image. So you can be a saint.” Her voice wasn't sharp, but her words still had edges. "I don't need you to be a saint, Galinda. Not for me." 

“That’s not fair,” Galinda sniffed, tears pricking at the backs of her eyelids. She tried to wipe them away, but Elphaba saw. Her face fell. 

“Galinda, I didn’t mean to…I know you’re trying—” 

Galinda found she couldn’t look at her. Instead she looked down at her green sheets, fresh from the Emerald City. “I can be good,” she said, firmly. “That’s what I’m good at.” Maybe it was all she was good at. Not sorcery, certainly. Not like Elphaba. But she could make people smile and laugh. She could charm a banker into donating money to a campaign for children's education. She could convince a group of housewives to throw a charity bazaar in the square in front of the palace. She could tell everyone who listened that Father was just and kind and that he cared about everyone, even the most vulnerable. She could make a difference that way. 

At least, she’d liked to believe she could. But Elphaba’s words hurt more than she wanted to admit, even to herself. 

She stood. “I’m going to take a bath.” 

Elphaba called after her, but for once Galinda didn’t listen. She shut the bathroom door behind her and leaned against it, waiting until her breathing evened out again. She was beginning to think Elphaba actively disliked her. It wasn't a nice feeling.

Clearly, befriending her was going to be harder than she’d thought. 

Chapter Text

Galinda spent the next couple of days avoiding her dorm room as much as she could, studiously ignoring all of Elphaba’s attempts to make conversation. She continued to bring leftovers back from the dining hall, leaving them on Elphaba’s desk. They were always gone when she got back. 

She was having breakfast in the dining hall the following Monday, staring down at her Sorcery Studies textbook (even though she’d only missed one Sorcery Seminar, she had nearly a hundred pages of readings to catch up on) when someone plunked their tray down on the other side of the table. “Is anyone sitting here?” Elphaba asked, sliding into the seat across from her. Galinda noticed, just as Elphaba must have wanted her to, that her tray was full. Clearly, her allowance had come in. 

“No,” she said, not looking up from her reading on different types of crystal balls. She’d always been interested in scrying, even though she didn’t have any more talent for it than she did for any other branch of magic. 

Elphaba ate in silence for a couple of minutes, drawing a spoon listlessly through her oatmeal. “I’m sorry about what I said,” she finally said, as Galinda turned another page. “I shouldn’t have reacted that way. You were being kind and trying to help. I’m not…used to people trying to help. I’m not used to people caring, like you did.” The simple way she said it, like it was an objective truth—her objective truth, maybe—made Galinda’s heart feel like someone had shoved it into a vise and stomped down hard. 

“I do care,” she said, reading the same paragraph twice and not taking in a word. “My title isn’t just a title to me. I genuinely want to help others. It’s the least I can do, given the life that I have.” 

“Adopted by the Wizard of Oz,” Elphaba finished, and if there was a hint of longing in her voice Galinda pretended she didn’t hear it. “I’ve met a lot of people who pretend to care, who want to contribute to the right causes but don’t really care about the people they’re supposed to be helping.” 

“I’ve met those kinds of people too,” Galinda said. Many of them served on the charity boards, the bored wives of rich financiers and politicians, who saw the meetings more as social gatherings than as opportunities to help the people who really needed it.

“I assumed you were one of them, because you come from the Emerald City. I was just…embarrassed, I think, because I thought I had done such a good job of hiding everything.” 

“Why didn’t you want anyone to know what was happening?” Galinda asked. “Maybe they could have helped—” 

But Elphaba was already shaking her head. “People aren’t exactly…inclined to give me the benefit of the doubt. Who would they believe—me or my father, who’s the Governor of Munchkinland and would just say that I’m lying for attention because I’ve always despised him?” 

“No one would believe that.” 

“Everyone already does.” Elphaba’s voice was almost unnaturally calm, like she was trying to explain something obvious to a particularly dense child. “Nessa says that you’ve been sitting with her at lunch. I wanted to thank you. I know it’s been hard for her to make friends, with a sister like me.” There was a self deprecating note in her voice that Elphaba didn’t seem to notice, like she was so used to putting herself down that it hardly registered.

“Why should that matter?” Galinda asked, closing her book. She could feel the stares on the back of her neck, could hear the murmur of whispers. Pfannee and ShenShen would hear she’d had breakfast with Elphaba before their first class started, and she was sure they’d interrogate her about it at lunch. Surprisingly, Galinda found she didn’t mind. 

Elphaba’s brows furrowed slightly, like she thought it should have been obvious. “Nobody wants to be friends with anybody who has a freak for a sister." 

“You’re not a freak,” Galinda said. 

“Of course I am,” Elphaba said, like it was an objective fact. “Do you see anyone else here who has green skin? Or can't control their magic?” 

“That doesn’t make you a freak. I certainly don’t think you’re a freak, for what it's worth. I think you can be a bit arrogant and stubborn to the point of stupidity, but you’re not a freak.” 

Elphaba was quiet for a minute. Galinda thought she saw the corner of her lips curl into a smile, but it happened so quickly that she couldn’t be sure. Elphaba split a muffin in half, inching half of it across the table towards her. “Truce?” 

She was looking at Galinda so earnestly that Galinda couldn’t entirely stay mad at her, even though she wanted to. “Truce,” she said, taking the other half of the muffin. 

Galinda found she couldn’t concentrate in History class that afternoon. This was becoming a regular occurrence. She really did try to pay attention, but every time she tried to think about the Great Drought or the Animal Communes or the long list of different Ozmas that occupied the throne before Father arrived in his balloon she almost inevitably ended up thinking about her parents and the picture of them in the yearbook with Dr. Dillamond. Whatever Madame Morrible said, it was proof that they’d known each other, maybe even been friends.

Galinda had to ask the professor what he knew. She would fail the class if she didn’t. She’d already asked Elphaba twice if she could borrow her notes to study and even though Elphaba had let her, Galinda knew she was starting to get suspicious. So at the end of class Galinda took her time packing up her books and tidying away her pencils, while all the other students filed out around her. 

Elphaba lingered with her. “Do you want to walk to Sorcery Seminar together?” 

Truthfully, Sorcery Seminar had almost entirely slipped her mind. “I’ll meet you there. I have a question to ask Dr. Dillamond.”

 Elphaba nodded, seemingly not at all suspicious as she hoisted her book bag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you there then?” 

“See you there,” Galinda replied. It took everything she had to wait until the classroom door closed behind her before she practically bolted over to the professor’s desk. 

Dr. Dillamond was flipping through a stack of papers from another class. When she came to stand in front of her, he gave her a friendly smile. But even though she scrutinized that smile as carefully as she could, she couldn’t tell if there was any familiarity in it. Did he think she looked more like one of them? Did he think she acted like them, or talked like them? A list of questions was unspooling in her head, faster than she could stop them. Maybe, for the first time in her life, she was about to get answers that mattered. “How can I help you, Miss Gli-i-inda? Did you have a question about last week’s readings?” 

“I have a question, yes, but not about that.” Galinda pulled the yearbook out of her bag and set it on the desk in between them, flipping three pages from the back until she reached the picture of the six students sitting around a table in the library. “Who are these people with you and my parents?” 

Dr. Dillamond didn’t say anything for a long time. When Galinda looked up she was surprised to see that he looked stricken. He was looking down at the yearbook like he’d never seen it before and had no idea it existed. “Where did you find that?” he asked. 

“In the library,” she said. “I found the yearbooks from your first two years. I know my parents are there.” She pointed to them, their blond heads bent together. “But the other three people are facing away from the camera. I can’t tell who they are.” 

There was another long stretch of silence, so long that Galinda worried that he wouldn’t tell her anything at all. The professor tried to speak, shook his head, and tried again. He tapped one hoof gently on the photograph, pointing to the boy sitting next to him. He had dark hair that curled over his ears and forehead. “This is Everett Tenmeadows, another friend of ours. The girl next to us is Lidia Parkhurst. She was one of only three Vinkan students at Shiz at the time. And on her other side, next to your father, is Amaryllis Arduenna. We were very good friends while we were at Shiz.” 

Galinda wanted to tell him that she already had a father, who had raised her like his own daughter even though they didn’t share any blood. But she was distracted by the thought that she was looking at her aunt, flipping through the class list to find her school picture. She found it near the top of the list, just above her brother’s name: Amaryllis Arduenna. Her hair was a shade lighter than his, but they had the same eyes. Except the expression was different: where the camera had managed to capture the laughter in Highmuster’s eyes, his sister’s eyes were cool and calculated. 

Galinda knew a little more about her aunt Amaryllis because Father had met her before. She’d worked at the palace for a few months before Galinda’s parents died. “She was one of the smartest people I’d ever met,” he said. “You could tell as soon as you met her. There was something in her bearing that made people sit up and pay attention. It really is a shame that she disappeared when she did. You would have really liked her.” 

He’d never mentioned that if she hadn’t disappeared Galinda probably would have gone to live with her instead. 

“Did you all stay in touch with each other after you left school?” Galinda asked as she eased the book shut. 

Dr. Dillamond was quiet for a moment. “We did, yes. For a while.” 

“Are you still in touch with them now?” Perhaps he had their addresses. Then she could write to them and tell them that she was seeking information about her parents and aunt. 

“I haven’t spoken to Everett in years.” Tenmeadows. The name sounded familiar, but Galinda wasn’t sure why. She scribbled it in the back of her notebook, to think about later. “And Lidia…well, she died shortly after your parents.” The pain in his voice was still raw, like she’d died only weeks ago instead of nearly two decades ago. 

“Oh. I’m so sorry—” 

He shook his head. “It’s quite all right, Miss Gl-i-inda. It’s only fair that you should have questions about your parents and their time at Shiz.” 

Galinda summoned up all of her courage, clearing her throat and saying the words before she could stop herself. “Could I visit sometime during office hours, so you can tell me about them?” There was a long, fraught moment of silence. “Please. I’ve never met someone who really knew them.” 

“I’m sure your parents had plenty of friends back in Gillikin. Why don’t you ask one of them?” 

“I have. But they all say the same superficial things. I know my parents were more than beautiful, or funny, or kind.” The words came out faster than Galinda could keep them in. “But no one seems to know anything about who they were as people. No one seems to know what made them laugh, what they did on a rainy day, what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. And I know there was more to them than that. Oz, I don’t even know what they studied while they were at Shiz.” 

“Your mother studied Sorcery,” Dr. Dillamond said, almost automatically. “Your father-Highmuster, I mean-studied History. I met him on our first day of classes as first years, in our first History Seminar. We were deskmates. As you can imagine, I wasn’t a very popular student. Nobody wanted to sit with me. But your father didn’t care. He sat down right next to me, even though there were several other seats available, and asked if he could borrow a pencil. Your father’s capacity for kindness always astounded me.” 

Galinda looked around the classroom, with its rows of desks stretching upwards and the heavy wooden panels that swung down to cover the windows so they could all see the projector. She imagined a boy that looked like Highmuster Arduenna's yearbook photo, with his smile that couldn’t be contained by a photograph, sitting down next to a younger looking Dr. Dillamond (wearing a smart green and white cardigan and the same rounded glasses he’d worn in his own yearbook photo). 

She was so busy focusing on the second part of what he’d said that she nearly forgot about the first. “My mother studied Sorcery?” 

“Yes. She was quite talented. I believe Madame Morrible said Larena was one of the most promising students she’d had in decades.” 

Galinda froze. Madame Morrible had never said anything about her mother studying Sorcery, or about her mother having magic at all. “Are you quite sure?” She didn’t realize that her hands had tightened around the edge of the desk until she looked down and saw that her knuckles had turned white. 

“Yes, of course. Didn’t Madame Morrible tell you?” 

“No, she didn’t.” Galinda glanced up at the clock. She only had five minutes to get to Sorcery Seminar. “I should go. But can I come by during office hours?” 

Dr. Dillamond hesitated for only a second before he said “Of course you can, Miss Gl-i-inda. You can visit at any time.” 

Galinda’s head pounded and her heart raced as she walked down the hallway. The voices of the other students seemed to filter through a very long tunnel to reach her. When they smiled at her, her own smile didn’t reach her eyes. Madame Morrible hadn’t told her that her mother had magic, or studied sorcery, or was one of the most promising students she’d had in decades. It felt like the very ground beneath her feet wasn’t as steady as it had once been. Her mother had had real magic, enough magic that even Madame Morrible had been impressed, and Glinda didn’t have enough to perform even the simplest of levitation spells. 

Somehow she managed to find her way to the Sorcery Seminar classroom. It was located right next to Madame Morrible’s office, a small room with a couple of tables in front of the window and a cabinet full of old magical books that were so old their binding was starting to come undone. She slid into the seat next to Elphaba, setting her bag down on the desk next to her. Madame Morrible was writing something on the board, but Galinda’s vision blurred and she couldn’t tell what it said. 

Elphaba leaned closer to her. “Are you all right?” she asked. Galinda realized that her hands were shaking as she laid out her pencils. 

“I’m fine,” she whispered, hoping that Elphaba would understand she meant I’ll tell you later. 

Madame Morrible turned away from the chalkboard. “How good of you to join us, Miss Galinda. I trust you did the readings I assigned you?” 

“Yes, Madame Morrible.” 

“Wonderful. Now, I ordered you a new training wand but as it has yet to arrive I thought you could read the chapter on levitation spells, while Miss Elphaba practices.” 

On another day it might have irritated Galinda to have to sit still and watch while Elphaba practiced magic effortlessly. But today she just nodded and pulled out her textbook, glad to have the space to think. Or, rather, not think; thoughts and feelings spun around her head without anything to ground them. 

Her mother had had magic, and Madame Morrible had never told her. Why wouldn’t she tell her something so important? Was she simply trying to spare Galinda’s feelings? It was one thing for there to be magic in her family lineage; it was quite another for her own mother to have it, when she didn’t have any. It made all the wanting and wishing that she’d done in her life—to be a sorceress, to be able to use magic as easily as Father and Madame Morrible could—feel even more laughable. She should have had magic, but she didn’t. How could that ever not be a disappointment? 

How could she ever not be a disappointment, no matter what Father said?  

When she was younger, she’d always begged him to tell her the story of how he’d found her, even when she was old enough to realize that he hadn’t really found her at all. ‘Found’ had a certain implication to it, like she’d been discovered on the front steps of the Emerald Palace wrapped in a soft pink blanket with a tear-stained note pinned to it reading please take care of my baby in shaky script. In reality, everyone who was anyone in Oz would have known her parents were dead. The Arduenna family was one of the oldest and most noble in Gillikin. The Uplands were among the ten richest families in Oz. She was the heir to one of the oldest names and the greatest fortunes in Gillikin. Her parents’ deaths had been front page news in every single newspaper, as far south as Quadling Country. 

But the way Father told it, it sounded like a story. He had come to Oz quite by accident five years before she was born, his balloon blown in on serendipitous winds. Soon after he arrived he brought electricity to the Ozians, and they made him their king. He had all the power and influence and riches that he had ever dreamed of. He couldn’t be happier, he told anyone who would listen, and he thought that was true. But sometimes, when the nights were a little too dark and a little too quiet, he felt that something was missing. He didn’t know what it was until he saw her picture in the paper, two weeks after her parents died—her big dark eyes, her cherubic smile, her cloud of wispy blonde hair, her tiny hands fastened around a stuffed lion that was almost as big as she was. 

(She still had Lion. She’d brought him to Shiz with her, tucked under her winter clothes in a trunk at the back of her closet. His fur had been washed so many times that he was no longer golden and almost all of his mane had been pulled out over the years. Father had offered to buy her a new lion for years, but Galinda had always refused. Lion might not be much to look at anymore, but he was still her good luck charm. He was one of the only objects she owned that connected her two lives: the life she used to have, and the one she had now)

Father said that he’d seen her photograph and realized exactly what his life had been missing, up to that point: someone to love and care for. And there she was, without any family left in the world. He knew what it felt like, to be alone like that. He had never told Galinda much about his life before he came to Oz—she suspected that he avoided dwelling on painful memories—but she knew he’d had more than his share of hardships. His mother had died when he was only a year older than Galinda was now. His birth father had left before he was born and, when Father found him again, hadn’t remembered who he was. His stepfather had never really loved him. Madame Morrible said Father had loved a man back in the world he came from, but he had died and his death had hurt Father so badly that he’d decided it was easier not to love anybody again, to keep his heart locked away in his chest where it could never be hurt. 

But Father said that none of that mattered when he saw her picture. For a moment it had felt like he was looking at his younger self, even though they didn't look anything alike. There had been no one to love him, but he could save her the way no one had saved him. So he wrote to Galinda’s nearest living relative, a second cousin who had only met her mother a handful of times and had six children of his own, and asked if he could bring Galinda to the Emerald City. 

As soon as Father saw her, wearing the pink and white dress Ama Clutch had dressed her in, with little pink ribbons tied around what passed for her ponytails, he’d known that she wouldn’t be taking the return train back to Gillikin. Galinda’s cousin had been happy to leave her there, since he already had more children than he could handle. He still sent her birthday and Lurlinemas cards, with the customary gifts of money and pictures of his growing family. He and his wife had eight children now, and ten grandchildren. 

Galinda had never, ever doubted that Father loved her. He couldn’t be with her all the time—he was the Wizard of Oz after all, and he had much to attend to—but he always carved time out of his busy schedule to play with her and they always ate dinner together. When she was younger he’d always put her to bed and told her the best bedtime stories that were so long and detailed they sometimes spilled out over multiple nights. He didn’t mention her parents at all, unless she mentioned them first. She’d never felt that she wasn’t able to ask about them; he just didn’t know much more about them than she did. 

But everyone else in the palace, all of the courtiers that came to see him and made demands on his time, always exclaimed over how much she looked and acted like them and wasn’t it a pity that they had died so tragically young and wasn't Galinda so lucky to be adopted by the Wizard and shouldn't she feel so very grateful? They would never let her forget that she was the Upland heir, so Galinda couldn’t forget it either. Even though some days she didn’t want to have two different lives. Sometimes she just wanted to be the Wizard’s daughter, instead of his daughter and something else, from a background she couldn't remember. Or worse, almost his daughter. She’d always thought that if she could just have magic like he did, if there could be something else that connected them that wasn’t just their love of stories or ice skating or their hatred of zucchini, then maybe she could reconcile it all. 

Now, she was beginning to think that she might never be able to. Maybe she would always feel split in half, half Upland and half Diggs. Her two halves should have been able to fit together, but they didn’t. Not perfectly. Maybe they never would. 

Her thoughts were racing so quickly that it took a while to realize that Elphaba wasn’t, in fact, effortlessly levitating the coin. Instead she was staring down at the table, looking at the coin like it had personally wronged her. Her shoulders were rigid with tension and her glasses kept sliding down her nose, so she had to nudge them up with a fingertip. The coin remained stubbornly hunched in the center of the table. 

“Relax your shoulders, dearie,” Madame Morrible said, coming to stand on the other side of the table. “Clench your toes. Put every ounce of your energy, every ounce of your focus, into moving the coin.” 

Elphaba’s brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment she sat back, rubbing her temples like they hurt. “It’s no use. Oz, it’s like I can only use my powers when I don’t want to.” 

“Don’t be discouraged, dearie. Sorcery isn’t like any of your other classes. You don’t need to find the right combination of words, like in Linguification. You don't need to perform an experiment correctly, like Biology. It’s all about finding that power within you, and bringing it out into the world. Sometimes that isn’t easy, or straightforward. For most people, it never happens at all.” Galinda felt the words lodge under her skin, even if they hadn’t been directed at her. Some people hoped and hoped and wished harder than they had ever wished for anything in their lives to perform just the smallest, simplest spell, but it didn’t work. They didn’t have any discernible magical talent at all. 

A pane of glass in the bottom left hand corner of the window shattered. Everyone jumped, except for Madame Morrible, who clapped her hands. “See, dearie? You have that raw power. All we need to do is direct it towards the coin, and not at the glass.” 

Elphaba looked down at her hands like she wasn’t quite sure they belonged to her. “I didn’t…” 

“Of course you did,” Madame Morrible said proudly. “Who else would have?” 

Galinda felt Elphaba’s gaze land on her, just for a moment—soft but insistent. 

At least someone believed she could be a sorceress. Even if they couldn’t be more wrong. 

Galinda left Sorcery Seminar as soon as Madame Morrible dismissed them. She didn’t even bother packing her books into her bag; she just carried them in her arms as she walked up the winding staircase that led to their dorm. Elphaba followed behind her like a shadow. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened in Sorcery Seminar?” she asked, dropping her book bag on her bed. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Galinda said. “Nothing happened in Sorcery Seminar. Nothing ever happens in Sorcery Seminar. Not to me at least.” She was sure that Madame Morrible had only let her in as a courtesy to Father, whatever the sorceress might say. They’d all seen what Elphaba had done in the quad. She was perfectly capable of performing magic without Galinda. 

“Galinda, I know what my magic feels like. I didn’t break that glass.” 

“And I suppose you think I did?” Galinda’s laughter didn’t sound quite as unbothered as she’d meant it to. 

“That was my first thought, yes.” 

“I’m afraid you’re quite mistaken, Miss Elphaba. I’ve been taking private lessons with Madame Morrible since I was seven years old and I have never demonstrated even the faintest hint of magic. Even though my mother’s family has a history of it.” She began to pace, their room suddenly feeling too small and too cramped with all of her boxes and trunks. “Oz, that was bad enough. But Dr. Dillamond just told me that my mother studied Sorcery while she was at Shiz. Apparently Madame Morrible said she was one of the most promising students she’d ever taught. And I don’t have any magic at all.” 

“...You just found out that your mother had magic from Dr. Dillamond?” Elphaba asked. “Didn’t Madame Morrible tell you?” 

Galinda sighed. “No. I didn’t have the faintest idea why not. Maybe she didn’t want to tell me because she knows that I’m hopeless at magic and she didn’t want me to feel worse.” 

She flopped down on her bed and suddenly saw the letter one of the porters had left on her desk, in its telltale green envelope. She quickly snatched it off the desk, sliding a fingernail under the W seal to break it. 

Just seeing Father’s spiky handwriting, spilling onto two pages of paper, was enough to make some of the pressure on her chest lift. She read eagerly, almost faster than her mind could take in the words: 

Dearest Galinda, 

I hope you are having a wonderful first week of classes! The palace is already starting to feel terribly empty without you. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve passed by your sitting room and been surprised to not hear you playing away on your piano, or how strange it is to not see all of your fashion books stacked up on the table in the sitting room, just waiting for you to come back for them. I’m sure I don’t need to ask if you’re missing me. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t thought about me at all in the last week. I’m sure you’re having the most wonderful time, and I look forward to hearing all about it in the return post. I want to hear all about your classes and your friends and even your homework. Madame Morrible tells me that you’re sharing a room with a student who enrolled unexpectedly. How is it? Do I need to petition Miss Coddle on your behalf to get you your room back? It’s very good of you to help out, but you don't have to be good all of the time if you don't want to.

Galinda could feel a smile spread across her face, obliterating her bad mood. 

Father spent the next few paragraphs catching her up on the Emerald City gossip, the new bills that were being discussed in the legislature that would go to his desk for final approval, the progress of her charities, and the new dresses he was buying her for the Lurlinemas celebrations. Father loved buying new clothes for her, almost as much as Galinda loved wearing them. Galinda got the sense that he had never really had the opportunity to wear fine things before he came to Oz. She made a mental note to tell him to keep the Lurlinemas dresses back at the palace; she wasn’t sure they would fit into her wardrobe at Shiz, which was already packed two rows deep with her dresses. 

Father finished with: 

I hear that Madame Morrible ended up accepting you into her Sorcery Seminar. By the time this letter reaches you, you’ll have had your first class. Remember, even if you only have enough magic to fill up a teacup—or even none at all, you’ll always be my magical daughter. You don’t need magic to charm everyone you meet. You do it effortlessly all on your own. I’m sure anyone in the Emerald City will agree. 

Have fun in your classes, but don’t study too hard. Make sure you have some fun too. Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do, but let yourself try some new things too. Let me know if you hear anything about what we discussed. I’ll be awaiting your next letter—and of course, I’ll be waiting to see you again when you come back for Lurlinemas. I have a feeling these next few months will pass a lot more slowly for me than they will for you. I know you’ll have a fantastic time.

Much love from, 

Your Father

P. S. I’m sending some cookies from that bakery you like on Citrine Street. You’re welcome to share them with that roommate of yours. 

Sure enough, the cookies were sitting in an emerald tin at the foot of her bed. Galinda felt her stomach twist with a sudden rush of homesickness. She and Father often walked to the bakery at the end of the week, watching the Emerald City transform around them in preparation for the weekend. Everyone seemed happier and friendlier, the city suffused in the soft glow of the late afternoon sunlight. 

Elphaba was sitting at her desk, working on their Sorcery Seminar reading. She’d also gotten a letter, but she’d pushed it aside without reading it. Galinda brought the tin over, perching on the edge of her desk. “Would you like some cookies from the Emerald City? Father sent them. They’re some of my favorites.” She opened the tin and handed it to Elphaba, so she could have first pick. There were a variety of different types of cookies, all frosted in green and pink. 

Elphaba picked through the cookies carefully, like she’d never seen a box of them before. “They’re yours, Galinda. You don’t need to share—” 

“I know. But I want to. Roommates do these things for each other, you know.” She looked at the envelope with Elphaba’s name scribbled on the back, pushed all the way to the edge of her desk. “Do you ever get homesick?” 

“No,” Elphaba said flatly, which was fair enough. If her father was like Frexspar Thropp, Galinda doubted she’d miss him either. Elphaba took a chocolate cookie and started to nibble around the edges. 

“Those are my favorites,” Galinda said, taking the one next to it. For a moment they ate in silence. If Elphaba was bothered that Galinda was sitting on her desk, she didn’t say anything. 

“They’re really good,” Elphaba said, closing her eyes as she savored her first couple of bites. Galinda understood; she couldn’t help but savor the cookies at Bakery Citrine either. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me until we’ve actually gone to the Emerald City and had them fresh out of the oven.” 

“We?” Elphaba said too quickly, like she thought Galinda might have misspoke. 

“Well of course. They’re delicious now, but they’re even better when they haven’t been shoved in a box for three days—”

“No, it’s just that…you would want to show me around the Emerald City?” 

“Of course I would,” Galinda said. “I’ve never had anyone to show around before.” 

“What about all of your friends?” Elphaba broke the cookie in half, to make it last longer. 

“I don’t have many.” Elphaba shot her a disbelieving look. “Well, I have friends but it’s mostly just out of convenience since their parents work for Father. I’ve never really made a friend on my own. Certainly no one that I would take to Bakery Citrine. Only my closest friends get to go there.” 

It was hard to tell, given Elphaba’s complexion, but Galinda thought she might be blushing. “So does that mean that we’re friends now?” 

“I guess it does.” Elphaba nodded once and then looked away. Galinda didn’t know what she might be thinking. Oz, she hoped she hadn’t offended her. 

“I’ve never had a friend either,” Elphaba said after a moment. She cleared her throat to change the subject. “I think you should talk to Madame Morrible about why she didn’t tell you your mother had magic. That’s an…odd thing to keep from you.” 

Galinda shrugged, breaking her cookie into smaller pieces and lining them up neatly on top of Elphaba’s textbook. “She’s a sorceress. I’m sure she has her reasons.” Galinda had always known there were things that Madame Morrible didn’t tell her, because they weren’t relevant to their lessons. But not telling Galinda that her mother had magic…surely that was relevant to her? 

But Galinda was almost sure she knew why Madame Morrible had kept it a secret. She must have known that Galinda would react like this, because it would prove what she’d always known but had just been too polite to say. 

Galinda would never, ever have any magic of her own. The best she could do was watch Elphaba excel without her. Somehow, that would have to be enough. Even if Galinda didn't see how it ever could be. 

Chapter Text

Galinda resolved to talk to Madame Morrible about during their weekly tea after lessons on Monday. She spent most of the day with her stomach tied into knots, anticipating the talk.

“Do you want me to come with you for moral support?” Elphaba asked, watching Galinda drag her spoon listlessly through her porridge. Normally Elphaba read the newspaper during breakfast, but she’d been lingering on the same page for nearly ten minutes. 

“That’s very kind of you,” Galinda said. She took a bite of her porridge, but it landed heavy in her stomach. “But I’ll be all right. I’ve known Madame Morrible since I was seven years old, after all.” They’d never been particularly close; Father said that Madame Morrible wasn’t the maternal type, and all of their lessons were colored by Galinda’s undeniable failure to do any magic of note. But Madame Morrible had always been patient with her, even when Galinda was sure she was frustrated with her since Galinda was certainly frustrated with herself. 

“All right,” Elphaba said, flipping her newspaper to the Foreign Affairs section and still not seeming to read it. “But if you change your mind, let me know.” 

“I will. Thank you, Elphaba.” Elphaba gave her a small, soft smile. Their truce had held through the weekend and Galinda dared to think it might be permanent. Things weren’t perfect, of course—Elphaba clearly didn’t like having the lamp on all night, even though Galinda had bought her a soft silk eye mask, and Galinda hated that Elphaba left the balcony doors open whenever she was studying so their room was always cold. But they managed. Maybe friendship was like that sometimes: just a matter of compromises. 

A loud laugh on the other side of the room distracted them both. Elphaba rolled her eyes when she saw the group of Gillikinese boys at the corner table, talking loudly and throwing cereal at each other. Galinda recognized a few of them from palace functions; Father said they came from the kinds of families that had more money than sense. They were used to an army of servants waiting on them hand and foot, so they were heedless of the mess they were making. 

“Good shot, Avaric!” one of them called, as a piece of cereal landed directly on a porcelain dish at the head of the table. As Galinda looked at the boy who’d thrown it, with his golden hair that brushed his shoulders and his piercing blue eyes and a smile that said that he was used to the world rearranging itself to make way for him, she realized why the name sounded familiar. Avaric Tenmeadows. The son of a Marquess. He’d been on the Eligible Suitors list Father had compiled for her last year when she came of age, until she told him that she didn’t want to marry until she graduated from Shiz. 

He had to be related to Everett Tenmeadows. A son perhaps, or a nephew.

There was only one way to find out for sure. “Excuse me a minute, Elphaba.” She stood up from the table, her tray abandoned, and strode over to the knot of boys. She saw them all sit up a little straighter and adjust their ties when they saw her heading in their direction. 

“Good morning, your Highness,” a boy she didn’t know said, brushing his dark hair out of his eyes. 

“Good morning,” she said politely. For once, she didn’t correct him. Perhaps her title would prompt them to answer her questions more readily. “Mr. Tenmeadows, is your father’s name Everett?” 

“Yes, it is,” Avaric said. His brow furrowed slightly in confusion. Either he’d never been told that his father had once been friends with Galinda’s parents or he didn’t particularly care. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

“That’s all, thank you. It’s just business for my father.” She shrugged her shoulders and gave him a sweet smile, as if to say you know how it is. She’d found that if she mentioned Father, people were much more likely to not question her motives. “You’ve been most helpful.” She turned and headed back to Elphaba, who was still staring at the same section of her newspaper. 

“What was that about?” Elphaba asked. 

“Avaric Tenmeadow’s father, Everett, knew my parents when they were at school. He was friends with them and Dr. Dillamond, although Dr. Dillamond says they haven’t spoken in years. I wonder what caused them to fall out.” 

“Perhaps they just grew apart,” Elphaba said. “A lot can happen in twenty years.” 

“You’re probably right. But Dr. Dillamond sounded so sad when he was talking about them all. It seemed like something else happened, something worse than simply drifting apart.” 

“Perhaps they were better friends with your parents and they lost touch after your parents died?” But Elphaba’s brow furrowed, and she looked deep in thought. 

“What is it?” Galinda asked. 

“Nothing, really,” Elphaba said. “It just seems a little…not strange, exactly, but…so many tragedies befell that friend group in such a short time. Your parents died, Lidia died, and your aunt disappeared all within a few months.” 

Galinda felt goosebumps rise on her arms. “What are you suggesting?” 

“I don’t know,” Elphaba said quickly, but Galinda understood what she didn’t want to say. 

A couple deaths were tragic. But a few deaths and an unexplained disappearance…that almost seemed suspicious. 

Madame Morrible was sitting at her desk writing a letter when Galinda knocked on the door and eased it open slowly. “Ah, Miss Upland. Come in.” She set the letter aside, pushing it under a stack of envelopes. “Would you like some tea?” Galinda thought she nodded, but her heart was pounding so hard she was beginning to feel light headed. She took a seat in front of the fireplace as Madame Morrible bustled around, heating the kettle and then setting out the teabags. “How was your first week of classes, dearie?” 

“Fine,” Galinda managed to say, watching the flames blaze in the fireplace. 

If Madame Morrible noticed that she was less talkative than normal, she didn’t comment on it. “And how is Miss Elphaba settling in?” 

“She’s fine too.” The kettle whistled and Madame Morrible handed her a steaming mug of tea. When Galinda took a sip, she tasted chamomile. “There was something I wanted to talk with you about, actually. Something Dr. Dillamond said.” 

Madame Morrible took the chair across from her, her brows furrowing slightly. “Well, Dr. Dillamond is our resident history professor but I am happy to do what I can to help you, especially if your query pertains to magical history.” 

“No, it isn’t that.” Galinda stared down into the depths of her tea, because it was easier than looking at Madame Morrible. “He said that my mother studied Sorcery while she was here at Shiz. He said that you thought she was one of your most promising students.” 

Galinda watched Madame Morrible’s expression carefully to see if it changed. It didn’t, but it seemed to take an effort to keep it still; her brow furrowed slightly, her lips pinching at the corners. “Well yes, your mother did study Sorcery at Shiz.” 

“But why didn’t you tell me?” 

Now it was the professor’s turn to look down into her tea, as if it could give her answers. “Miss Galinda, I was simply trying to protect your memories of your mother, such as they are. I thought that, in this case, you might consider ignorance bliss.” 

“What are you talking about?” Galinda asked, feeling her heart beat a little bit faster. She wondered if her mother had ever sat in these chairs, ever drank this particular blend of tea. 

Madame Morrible was quiet for a moment. “Your mother was a very, very talented sorceress. But she was also quite…unstable.” 

“Unstable how?” 

“She was prone to mood swings and she had certain...obsessions that would consume her utterly, until she forgot to eat and sleep.” 

“What kind of obsessions?” 

“She was very interested in the study of magic itself, and what causes it. I tried to remind her that she had the rest of her life for her research, but she wouldn’t listen. It was as if she knew, even then, that she only had a few years left. I remember that she had to visit the infirmary quite often in her last couple of years. She overworked herself often. It was like she was a woman possessed.” 

Galinda tried to square this version of her mother—obssessed to the point of madness, frequently ill—with her smiling yearbook photo.“What was she trying to do, exactly?” 

“She never told me. I asked her numerous times. I would have, of course, helped her if I could. But she insisted she didn’t need my help, or anyone else’s. Even the man who would become her future husband.” 

“What kind of magic did she have?” 

“She was very talented at scrying and psychometry—gleaning information about a person through objects. I have to wonder, now that all this time has passed and we all know how her story ended…perhaps she saw her own death. Perhaps she became obsessed with trying to change the course of her future and, in her haste, ended up creating a self fulfilling prophecy.”

Here was another story of that night, slightly different from the one Galinda had been told: her mother panicking, picking up on some inkling of her impending death, insisting that they needed to return home immediately even though it was so cold and snowy. A story where there was nothing suspicious about their deaths at all. It was simply a tragedy, because no one had been able to prevent it. Galinda’s head spun. 

“What did my father think?” 

“Oh, he was supportive of your mother’s delusions. All of her friends were. I suppose they thought it would help her. I don’t blame him, of course. I blame his sister, your aunt Amaryllis. She was very smart, but so calculating. And just as passionate. That passion…it can lead to instability. Don’t you think dearie?” Galinda nodded absently, though she didn’t know, really. She didn’t know anything about anybody, even herself. Not about her past, not about her future. She could practically feel the ground shifting under her feet yet again. “I have to say, I was glad you never showed any sign of your mother’s magical talent. Power like that can be uncontrollable, for those who aren’t ready to hold it. We wouldn’t want you to suffer the same fate as your parents. I doubt your father would be able to bear it.” Madame Morrible stirred her tea with a long handled spoon. “Do you have any other questions for me, dearie?” 

Galinda could hardly think, much less speak. Her head was full of white noise and her body felt weighed down with despair. 

“You see why I didn’t want to tell you now,” Madame Morrible continued, not unkindly, plucking the teacup out of Galinda’s shaking hands before it could skitter to the floor. “Of course, it’s natural for you to want to know where you came from…but you have to be willing to accept that not all answers will tell you what you want to know. Are you able to accept that?” She pressed her hand against Glinda’s cheek. Her touch was comforting, but her skin was cold. “If you want my advice, dearie, don’t push any further. Stay away from Dr. Dillamond. Your mother was brilliant, but she was also tragic, and she pulled each one of her friends down with her.” And what had happened to all of her friends? They’d died or disappeared, or they’d fallen out of contact. 

Something suddenly occurred to Galinda, a last and desperate attempt to grab onto some trace of normalcy. “Do you have any of my mother’s old essays or projects from Sorcery Seminar?” 

Her spirits had barely risen before Madame Morrible crushed them again. “I’m afraid I don’t keep my students’ old work, Miss Galinda. All of her schoolwork would have been destroyed long ago.”

Galinda had no idea how she made it back to her dorm room, or how long she lay on her bed staring at nothing. She rubbed the sheets between her fingers, but even the cool silk couldn’t steady her frenzied mind. Madame Morrible’s words bounced around her head, falling into each other until she couldn’t tell where one sentence ended and another began. It didn’t really matter what they said individually anyway, when they added up to the same tragic whole: Mother’s magic had been too powerful for her to handle. It had consumed her, and it might have contributed to her death. Perhaps she became obsessed with trying to change the course of her future and, in her haste, ended up creating a self fulfilling prophecy.

She heard the doorknob turn, heard Elphaba gasp and drop her books on the edge of her desk. “Galinda!” She came to stand at the foot of the bed, her green eyes dark with concern. “Are you all right? Do you feel sick?” 

Galinda shook her head. For a moment she couldn’t speak—and when she finally did manage to get the words out, she spoke so quietly that Elphaba had to lean forward slightly to hear. “Madame Morrible said that my mother was…unstable.” It was easier to say that than crazy. “She could get visions from touching objects. Madame Morrible thinks she accidentally saw her own death and went half mad trying to prevent it. But it happened anyway—a self fulfilling prophecy.” 

Elphaba was silent for a long moment. Then Galinda felt her hand on her back, soft and tentative, like she was waiting for Galinda to shrug her away. Galinda didn’t. “Oh, Galinda. I’m so sorry.” She liked the way Elphaba said her name, the way she hovered on the first a for a moment before she moved on to the l and the i. 

Galinda wanted to shrug and say that it was fine, even though it wasn’t. But what came out instead was “What if I’m like her? What if I’m…unstable too?” Part of her wanted to think that Father would have caught it. But Father could be eccentric sometimes. Occasionally he locked himself in his workshop, absorbed in one of his new projects, and he didn’t leave for days. If Galinda didn't bring him meals he wouldn’t have remembered to eat, and she didn’t think he slept much even when he wasn’t consumed by ideas. If she wasn’t just eccentric, if she was well and truly unstable, or mad…would he be able to tell? 

“You don’t seem unstable to me,” Elphaba said. “Though for what it’s worth, I’m not sure I’m the best judge of character. I’ve never shared a room with anyone until now, and you’re still my only friend at Shiz.” 

Galinda felt herself smile almost in spite of herself. “Thank you for that rousing vote of confidence, Elphie.” Elphaba rubbed circles into her back, her touch oddly comforting. She had a strange flash of not quite memory, like perhaps someone had soothed her like this before—Ama Clutch, perhaps? Maybe even her mother? “But would you tell me if you thought I…wasn’t right?” 

“Of course I would,” Elphaba said. “I would help you, however I could.”

“Thank you,” Galinda said, squeezing her other hand. Silence settled between them, but for once she didn’t feel a need to fill it. Some hurts were simply too deep to name. Their weight could only be shared together, diminished a little by the presence of another person. 

And even though she could have gone to study, Elphaba chose to stay. She chose to shoulder the weight with her. 

The semester proceeded apace, until nearly a month had passed. Galinda was surprised when she needed to turn the page of the calendar on the top of her desk. Had she really been so busy that four weeks had slipped by and she hadn’t even noticed?

Life at Shiz had settled into a pleasant routine. Galinda loved all of her classes, especially Architecture. She liked Sorcery Seminar too, though she suspected that had less to do with her progress (or lack of it) and more to do with the time it gave her to watch Elphaba: the way her eyes narrowed in concentration, the way her toes clenched under her desk, the way she curved her fingers together when she cast a spell almost without realizing it. Elphaba's magic was improving too. She could levitate the coin a little bit now. Some days were better than others, but there were more and more days when she could at least make the coin leave the desk. Instead of the longing Galinda might have once felt, she forced herself to be grateful. If she did have magic…what had happened to her mother could have happened to her. She could go mad, and drag Elphaba down with her. 

All of her other classes were interesting too. Galinda found herself excelling in History, even though she’d never really cared much about the subject before. Perhaps if she got good grades, Dr. Dillamond would be more likely to share something about her parents with her. She’d tried to go to office hours for the last few weeks but there had always been other students there. But she kept trying. Galinda was nothing if not determined. 

She took her meals with Elphaba, and sometimes Nessa. She had to study a lot to make her schedule work, but during her free time she liked to take walks into the town center with Elphaba. Sometimes they went into the pretty shops that adorned Shiz’s main street and even though Elphaba always said she wasn’t going to buy anything, her hand instinctively reaching into her pocket to clutch her almost empty purse, Galinda always bought something for her anyway. Slowly Elphaba’s side of the room began to fill with pretty things, little knickknacks they’d picked up on their trips into town and the paintings that Nessa made for her. Nessa was a very gifted artist. Sometimes Galinda saw her sketching with another girl out in the quad, but Nessa never introduced them. 

When she got her first History exam back, Galinda was pleasantly surprised to see an A at the top of her paper. Elphaba smiled, nudging her paper across the table so Galinda could see her matching A. Galinda wasn’t entirely surprised, since they’d spent most of the night studying together, but she was already planning to hang those exams on their shared bulletin board where they could both see them. 

“I am pleased to note some progress,” Dr. Dillamond said once the last of the tests had been returned. “Although some of you still tend to favor form over content. Isn’t that right, Mr. Avaric?” 

The group of boys that always surrounded Avaric chuckled. Avaric stared down at his paper, his cheeks aflame. 

“According to your syllabus, today we will be discussing what?” Dr Dillamond asked, pressing the pedal under his desk that closed the shutters so they could all see the projector. Elphaba’s hand arced into the air, almost before he’d finished asking the question. “Yes, Miss Elphaba?” 

“The Great Drought, Professor?” Elphaba had a tendency to frame her answers as questions, as if there was even a chance she might be wrong. 

“Correct, Miss Elphaba—and its effects on Animal Society. Years ago, before you all were born, Shiz was quite a different place.” Dr. Dillamond set up a slide that contained a photograph of Shiz’s main street, crowded with a mixture of humans and Animals, all going about their business together. A pair of young Gazelles stood next to a pair of human boys, peering into the windows of a toy shop. A human solicitor talked to a pair of Tigers, all three of them wearing neat blue suits. “It wasn’t uncommon to see a snow leopard solving an equation, or an antelope explicating a sonnet.” For a moment his voice seemed full of wonder. “But things have changed since then. Now, I am one of the only Animal professors here at Shiz.” He switched to another slide: ragged people on the move, all of their earthly possessions stuffed into suitcases that were beginning to fall apart at the seams. “When food grew scarce, people became angry. They searched for someone to blame, and they settled on those who already had the least: the Animals.” 

“They were like scapegoats,” Elphaba murmured, but Dr. Dillamond heard her. 

“Yes, precisely. Now, even before the Great Drought, Animals had the highest rate of poverty in Oz, across all four kingdoms.” The slide flipped forward to a chart and accompanying graph. Galinda felt her eyebrows furrow. In all of her charity board meetings, no one had ever mentioned Animals as a group that needed help. Single mothers, sick children, disabled veterans, yes…but not Animals. “They were already struggling to feed themselves and their families. They couldn’t possibly be hoarding food from everyone else too. But people were hungry and frightened, and they couldn’t--or wouldn’t—listen to reason. They were searching for someone to blame, and it was easy to blame people who were different, people they didn’t understand.” Dr. Dillamond moved away from the projector, flipping one of the blackboards over. “Now, if you’ll direct your attention to this timeline—” 

Bright red letters stared at them, garish even in the darkness: Animals Should Be Seen And Not Heard.

Galinda had never heard a silence that was loud before. Dr. Dillamond staggered back a step, then two, until he crashed into his desk. His breathing turned quick and uneven. Everyone was staring at the blackboard like they couldn’t look away. She gently elbowed Elphaba to get her attention and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “What does that mean?” 

“It’s a truly foul thing to say,” Elphaba said, her voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. “It means that you believe there’s no difference between animals and Animals—that anyone who isn’t human should be a beast of burden, whether or not they speak. 

Dr. Dillamond finally turned to face them. “Who is responsible for this?” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. When no one moved, he raised his voice. “I said, who is responsible for this?” No one spoke. There was a minute, then two, of terrible silence. Finally, he sighed. “Class dismissed.” 

Everyone packed up in silence, leaving the room in ones and twos with their heads down. Elphaba went to help Dr. Dillamond clean up the pieces of a vase that he’d knocked off his desk. Galinda hurried after her, putting the poppies in some fresh water. “Are poppies your favorite flower, Dr. Dillamond?” she asked, trying to distract him from the words that blazed out at them in a deep and almost bloody red. 

“Yes,” Dr. Dillamond said. “They make me happy. Normally, at least.” 

“My father likes them too.” Thinking about her father made her think about the Animals. Maybe they were doing better now, and that was why there were no charities dedicated to them. But then why were there so few Animal professors at Shiz? And come to think of it, were there any Animal students in any of her classes? 

“I appreciate the help, but you should both go back to your friends now. You’re going to be late to your next class,” Dr. Dillamond said as Elphaba dumped the pieces of shattered glass into the trash can. 

Elphaba shrugged. “I only have one friend in Shiz and she’s already here." She tilted her head at Galinda. "Madame Morrible can hardly punish us if we’re both late.” 

“I’m terribly sorry someone wrote those horrendible things, Dr. Dillamond,” Galinda added. 

“Thank you, Miss Gli-i-nda,” he said. “You’re very kind, just like your...just like Highmuster Arduenna, I mean.” The words settled warm in Galinda’s chest. “And Miss Elphaba, you don’t have only one friend at this school anymore. Now you have two.” He held out a hoof for Elphaba to shake. 

Elphaba took it, a small but real smile on her face. Galinda didn’t see those smiles often, at least not directed at people that weren’t her or Nessa. 

In Sorcery Seminar, Elphaba couldn’t focus. She tried again and again to levitate the coin, growing more and more frustrated, until she dropped her eyes. “It’s no use,” she said. 

“I heard there was a disturbance in Dr. Dillamond's class today, dearie,” Madame Morrible said, her voice low and almost saccharine. "That must have been so difficult for you both." She glanced at Galinda to include her in the statement too.

“How could anyone write such horrendible words?” Elphaba asked. In the seat next to her, Galinda felt her desk rattle. There was a low hum throughout the room as other things started to rattle: the windowpanes, the shelves of books, the letters sitting on Madame Morrible’s desk. “No deserves to be scorned, or laughed at...” The rattling continued. Galinda glanced at Madame Morrible, waiting for her to tell Elphaba to stop, but she didn’t. Instead she looked at Elphaba like she couldn’t quite believe she was real. 

She looked at Elphaba like she was something she wanted to acquire, something she wanted to lock up with her other magical artifacts. 

“Or told to stop jabbering,” Elphaba finished, slamming her hand down on the table. The coin rocketed forward, exploding through the doors of the glass case where Madame Morrible kept her Best Sorcery Teacher plaques. There it hung in midair, sparkling up at them almost defiantly. 

Galinda wondered what it would feel like to have magic like that, so much magic that it was prone to pouring out of her when she least expected it. Instead, Elphaba looked at Madame Morrible, who clapped her hands and told her “Well done, dearie!” And Galinda looked at the coin, which was still hanging in midair even though everyone else had stopped looking at it. 

It was forever held in stasis. Just like her. 

That evening, Galinda and Elphaba went to the Animal teacher’s lounge to check on Dr. Dillamond. Galinda brought bakery cookies; Father had sent her another batch, with extra to share with Elphaba and two sheets of paper full of Emerald City gossip. 

The sun was setting and the plants bordering the path seemed to grow towards them, reaching out with clinging arms to grab at their uniforms. By the time they reached the Animal teacher’s lounge, it was nearly dark. Galinda hadn’t realized just how far away it was from the rest of the school. It would have been hard for the Animals to congregate here during the daytime, and wasn’t that the point of a teacher’s lounge? “Oz, I don’t think they could have moved this place any farther away from Shiz while still keeping it on the property.” Elphaba didn’t answer, too busy nudging climbing roots out of their way so they wouldn’t trip. 

Soft voices issued out through the open windows and into the night. Instead of knocking on the door, Elphaba hesitated. Galinda came to stand next to her, and after a moment she could hear them too. Through the half open window she could see six or seven Animal professors sitting around a narrow wooden table, drinking tea out of worn mugs. Their voices were low and urgent and Galinda suddenly had the strangest feeling that she shouldn’t disturb them. They were talking about Animals disappearing, or leaving Oz, or losing the ability to speak. 

Elphaba looked just as confused as Galinda felt. “Does your father know about this?” she whispered. 

Glinda tried to think back, but Father rarely talked about Animals. The last time he’d brought them up, he’d been telling her to look out for treasonous activities. But Animals talking about mysterious disappearances couldn’t be treasonous, could it? Surely Father would want to know what was happening, so that he could help them. “I don’t think so,” she said instead. If he did, there would be initiatives and committees and black tie galas. Father always said that he took pride in being the kind of man who solved problems.

 “Back where I’m from, most politicians just play lip service to the idea of change,” he’d said one day, while he riffled through his papers. “Nothing ever actually gets done. But not in Oz. If there’s a problem in Oz, I fix it.” Whether that problem involved a dispute between ruby mine workers in Quadling Country or an orphaned girl without a family. 

Glinda noticed something half buried in the leaf litter that had started to accumulate next to the wall of the lounge. When she picked it up, she found a small carved wooden figurine of a goat. 

It happened so fast. One moment she was standing next to Elphie in the courtyard, their ears pressed to the gap in the door so they could hear better. The next minute, a river of images and sounds were flooding past her, almost too fast for her to process. 

A woman’s hand, outstretched towards a younger Dr. Dillamond, a playful note in her voice. Here. I picked this up for you in Frottica. It looks like you, doesn’t it? It’s just missing your cardigan. 

The same woman’s face, her expression stern and her voice hard, striding around a pink and gold parlor. A desk sat in the middle of the room, overflowing with papers. Dr. Dillamond was nowhere to be seen. If you do this, there’s no going back. 

An unfamiliar man, yelling, one finger raised accusingly. Another new room, with a white ceiling and powder blue walls and windows that looked over snow capped mountains. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us? 

A dark night, an unstable carriage, a loud grinding noise and a sharp, stabbing pain in Galinda’s abdomen. A man crying beside her, his tears wet on Galinda’s hands. Hold out, Larena. Someone is going to see what happened. Someone is going to find us. We just need to—

“Galinda!” 

Galinda snapped back to reality. Elphaba had one arm around her waist, half bracing her against the windowsill. They were both breathing heavily. “What happened?” she whispered. 

“I don’t know,” Elphaba said. “It looked like you were about to faint. Oz, I thought I wouldn’t catch you in time.” 

The door to the lounge slammed open. “Miss Elphaba? Miss Gli-i-inda?” Dr. Dillamond asked from the doorway. The other Animals were gone now, the back doors hanging open and a cold breeze blowing through the room. 

“We were just…” Elphaba trailed off, her arm still wrapped around Galinda’s waist. Galinda felt the soft, insistent warmth of her fingertips burning into her hips. 

“We came to give these to you,” Galinda said, holding up the cookies. “We wanted to see how you were doing after those horrendible comments.” 

“I appreciate your concern, but you really should get back to class…” He took a step forward, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Miss Gli-i-inda, you look quite pale. Would you like to come inside and sit down?”

Galinda and Elphaba sat down on the couch, while he poured out cups of tea. “I suppose you heard all of that,” he said, glancing at the windows. For the first time, Galinda noticed that the wall next to him, the one not visible from outside, was covered in posters of missing Animals. 

“Is it true?” Elphaba asked. “Are Animals really losing the ability to speak?” 

“I’m afraid so, Miss Elphaba.” Dr. Dillamond placed the empty kettle in the sink. “If you make things…difficult enough, you can stop anyone from speaking out.” 

“But that’s horrendible,” Galinda said, taking a sip of tea that almost immediately steadied her nerves. “I’ll write to Father at once. He’ll be appalled to hear what happened here today.” 

Alarm flashed in Dr. Dillamond’s eyes. “Miss Gli-i-inda, that isn’t necessary. I appreciate your concern, but I know the Wizard is a very busy man.” 

“He won’t mind,” Galinda said at the same time Elphaba said “Isn’t that why we have a Wizard? So he can help those who need it the most?” 

Dr. Dillamond was quiet for a moment. “Yes, I suppose you’re right, Miss Elphaba.” He glanced out the window. “But you really should go back. It will be curfew soon, and I fear an Animal professor’s words don’t go as far as they once did when it comes to keeping students out of detention.” 

Galinda and Elphaba walked halfway back to Shiz in silence before Elphaba said “Are you going to tell me what happened?” 

Galinda realized she’d been clenching her hands into fists, over and over, without realizing it. “Can I tell you later?” She still needed time to process what she’d seen. She had to decide if it meant that she was going mad too, just like her mother. 

Elphaba was silent for a moment too long. But just as she was about to say something else, a blue horse nearly ran her over. Galinda shrieked and managed to pull her out of the way just in time, as the horse’s rider jumped off and hurried over to them. 

“Woah, Feldspur,” he said, patting the horse reassuringly before he came over. “Are you all right? We didn’t see you there. I guess you must have—” He finally saw Elphaba. “Blended with the foliage,” he finished. 

Elphaba was not amused. “Is this how you go through life, trampling through the darkness and nearly running over people with your horse?” 

He blinked once and then twice. “No. Sometimes I’m asleep.” Now that Galinda could see him properly in the moonlight, he wasn’t much older than them. He had dark blond hair and soft blue eyes and the sort of smile that would get him banned from the Emerald Palace—or at the very least not allowed anywhere near her. 

Elphaba sighed, drawing herself up to her full height (which was only slightly taller than Galinda). “Right, let’s get this over with. No, I am not seasick.” 

“Neither am I,” the man said, sounding bewildered. 

“No, I did not eat grass as a child—” 

“You didn’t? I did.” Galinda couldn’t quite muffle a snicker and he grinned at her. 

“And I have always been green,” Elphaba finished, crossing her arms in front of her. 

“What about the defensiveness? Is that a recent development?” Elphaba’s scowl deepened. 

“Oz, Fiyero. What happened? Please tell me you didn’t hurt someone,” a girl’s voice said from farther down the path, and Galinda realized that he wasn’t alone. Footsteps came towards them and then a girl stepped out of the underbrush, around their age, with soft brown skin and intelligent brown eyes and beautiful long dark hair. She wore a necklace with a silver pendant on it in the shape of a crescent moon. “Oh. Hello.” 

“Hello,” Galinda said, like she met strangers out in the woods every night. 

“We’re terribly sorry to bother you,” the girl said. “We were supposed to be at Shiz hours ago but Fiyero insisted we take a shortcut.” She glared at her companion, who must have been Fiyero. 

“My fiancee has many, many wonderful qualities,” Fiyero said. He tried to wrap an arm around the girl’s waist, but she stepped away from him. “A sense of adventure isn’t one of them.”

Even in the darkness, Galinda could tell the girl was flushed. “I don’t like going in aimless circles in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar place,” she said. “Perhaps you don’t mind unpacking at the very last minute, but I’d prefer not to. Everyone is going to be watching us tomorrow and you know they'll be expecting us to look our best.” 

Fiyero sighed, looking down at the S embroidered on Galinda’s collar. “I don’t suppose either of you are students here at the university who could escort us to the main building?” 

Elphaba and Galinda exchanged a glance. “I suppose so,” Galinda said, falling back on her politeness, as she did in difficult situations. “Right this way.” She guided them onto the path. The horses fell in step next to each other and then started to talk amongst themselves about a sports game that Galinda was unfamiliar with. “Are you new students?” 

“Indeed,” Fiyero said. “Fiyero Tigelaar, at your service.” Galinda recognized the name, but she didn’t know why until he continued. “I’m technically a prince, but I try to forget about that whenever possible.” He winked, and then Galinda remembered that his name had been on the List of Eligible Suitors too. “And this is my fiancee, Sarima Arquezza.” Sarima didn’t say anything, but she bobbed a little curtsey. “We’re getting married in two months.” 

“Oh, how exciting! Congratulations!” Galinda said. She’d always loved weddings. 

Fiyero and Sarima stayed silent, until the silence began to weigh on Galinda and she made the introductions for her and Elphaba. 

“Ah yes. The Wizard’s ward,” Fiyero said, in a tone that Galinda couldn’t quite interpret. 

“Daughter,” she said. “The Wizard’s daughter.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I meant no offense—” 

Sarima sighed. “Fiyero, it’s been a long day. Let’s just try our best not to make any more enemies.” 

They all walked back to Shiz in silence. Galinda had to acknowledge that it was all very strange, but she was glad that the unexpected appearance of Fiyero and Sarima had almost entirely dislodged the memory of the vision from her brain. Perhaps Elphaba had forgotten about it entirely, because she didn’t bring it up once before they went to sleep.

Chapter Text

There was a knock on the door to their suite bright and early the next morning. “Did you visually see who’s here?” ShenShen shrieked, practically tossing a newspaper in Galinda’s face. 

Galinda held the newspaper at arms length so she could read the fine print marching across the front page: Engaged Winkie Prince and Princess Attending Shiz. There was a publicity shot of Fiyero and Sarima sitting on top of a green velvet settee, their hands loosely entwined, looking only marginally more comfortable together than they had the night before. He looked just past her face, while Sarima looked outside of the picture, her lips pinched slightly as if in worry. She was a princess now, Galinda thought. What did she have to worry about? 

“We know,” Elphaba said, fumbling for her glasses. “We met them last night.” 

Shenshen’s gasp was so loud Galinda wouldn’t have been surprised if the entire floor heard it. “Oh. My. Oz. You met them?” 

“Barely,” Galinda said. “We ran into them in the forest after we went to check on Dr. Dillamond. I think they got lost.” 

“What were they like? Was Prince Fiyero even hotter in person?” 

Galinda and Elphaba exchanged a look. “It was dark,” Elphaba said in a tight and annoyed sort of voice. “We couldn’t really see him. And anyway, he has a fiancee.” 

“Oh, that doesn’t mean anything,” ShenShen said, taking the newspaper back from Galinda and twirling a lock of thick blonde hair around her finger. 

“I think it does.” 

“Everyone knows it’s just an arranged marriage. It's common among powerful Vinkan families. They don’t actually love each other. No one expects him to be faithful.”

This was news to Galinda, but she tried not to look too surprised. That would only encourage ShenShen. She could be insufferable when she thought she had a piece of gossip that no one else did. “And you would be…comfortable dating a man that’s engaged?” 

“I sure would if he looks like that.” Elphaba rolled her eyes, brushing past Galinda as she picked up her shower caddy and locked herself in the bathroom. “I see the artichoke is steamed,” ShenShen gloated. “But she needn’t worry. No prince would want to date her.” 

Galinda felt a spark of anger on Elphaba’s behalf. “You and Pfannee are far too hard on her, you know. Miss Elphaba is quite a nice person, once you get to know her.” 

ShenShen laughed. “You’re so good, Galinda.” It felt a little bit like an insult. “First you give up your private suite for her and now you’re spending time with her out of pity.” 

“It’s not out of pity.” Oz, she hoped Elphaba couldn’t hear this. “Elphaba is a very interesting person—much more interesting than you.” She reached for the doorknob. “I’d thank you to stop insulting her.”

 ShenShen stared at her in disbelief. “I’m only trying to introduce you to the right sort of people. Oz knows you’ve been a bit…isolated in the Emerald Palace.” 

Galinda’s blood boiled. “My father taught me how to tell the right sort of people from the wrong sort of people for myself. I’m sorry your father didn’t teach you.” ShenShen left in an offended huff. 

Elphaba came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, her face still wet from her face wash. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know,” she said, gathering all of her school books and shoving them into her bag. Her voice sounded tired. 

“Of course I did. She was being exceptionally rude to you—” 

“I’ve heard worse. The Munchkins have never felt any particular need to be kind to me.” Elphaba spoke flatly, almost tonelessly, as though she’d said the words so many times that they’d lost their sting. Galinda didn’t understand how she could sound so nonchalant while saying such horrendible things about herself. 

“Well, things are going to be different at Shiz. I’ll ensure it.” 

Elphaba sighed. “I’m not your pet project, Galinda. Besides, there are some things that even you can’t manage. The rest of the student body at Shiz will never accept me.” 

“Just wait and see.” Galinda was always up for a good challenge. “And you’re not a pet project, Elphaba. We’re roommates now. Roommates do these things for each other.” 

“I don’t think they do.” 

“Have you ever had one?” 

“No.” 

“Well, me neither. And I say they do.” Galinda brushed past her and shut herself in the bathroom, arraying her cleansers and face creams in front of her. If she didn’t hurry they were going to be late, and she had to make sure that she went downstairs with Elphaba. It was step one in her plan to make Elphaba beloved by the student body: Acceptance by Proximity. With any luck, the other students would find it much harder to insult her with Galinda standing right beside her. 

By the time they got downstairs, Fiyero was already standing in the courtyard. For once, no one was looking at Galinda and Elphaba. Everyone was fawning over the new arrivals. Normally, Galinda wouldn't have minded a break from the scrutiny, but today she felt a pinch of annoyance. Leave it to Fiyero Tigelaar to ruin her plans.

Fiyero seemed to revel in the attention. He was wearing a deep blue vest and his light eyes sparkled when he smiled—which appeared to be all the time. And he flirted shamelessly with anyone in the vicinity. He pressed a kiss to the back of one girl's hand and her friends had to rush to catch her before he fainted. Elphaba clearly had to work not to roll her eyes. Galinda had been hoping that they could just ignore him and get to class, but as soon as he saw them he made a beeline straight for them, and she had to swallow down her sigh. 

“There’s a rumor going around that you’re giving tours to any recently arrived students,” he said, fixing them both with that blinding smile. He took Galinda’s hand and kissed her palm; he tried to kiss Elphaba’s hand too, but Elphaba pulled it away before he could touch her. “Luckily, I just happen to be a recently arrived student.” 

“Where’s Sarima?” Galinda asked, feeling revolted. Even if their engagement had been arranged, he didn’t have to flirt quite so shamelessly. “She’s a recently arrived student too. It would be quite unfair to only give the tour to one of you.” 

“She’s around here somewhere.” Fiyero shrugged, like he couldn’t care less where she was. “Last I heard, she was looking for the books. Sarima loves books. She’s read so many that it’s a wonder her head doesn’t explode.” 

“Let’s go find her and I’ll give you both the tour,” Galinda said. It was one thing to flirt with a prince and quite another to flirt with an engaged one. “Come along, Elphaba.” 

Elphaba raised her eyebrows. “We have Linguification in ten minutes—” 

“You know the library better than any of us.” Elphaba followed them, reluctantly. 

Galinda pointed out a couple of points of interest as they made their way across campus—the school store, the poppy fields, the walled gardens, the sparring courtyard. She made sure to keep her voice cool and detached, so Fiyero had no choice but to remain strictly professional. When Fiyero tried to slip an arm around her shoulders with a practiced nonchalance, she carefully ducked away. She could imagine the rumors that would circulate if it looked like she was flirting with another girl’s fiance. The headlines practically wrote themselves: Galinda the Good—Good No Longer? Just the thought of the poor alliteration was enough to make Galinda sigh in annoyance. The Emerald City journalists were nothing if not annoyingly predictable, and terminally uncreative.

The library towered above them, its golden stone walls glimmering in the sunlight. Its rows of windows looked out over the fields and the glittering canals, which led all the way to the Port of Gillikin twenty miles away. “What does Sarima like to read?” Elphaba asked. “The library is very big, you know.” 

Fiyero shrugged. “Not sure.” 

“You don’t even know what kinds of books your fiancee likes to read?” 

He looked at her strangely. “I’ve known Sarima for a day longer than I’ve known you.” 

Galinda stopped in her tracks so abruptly that he nearly crashed into her. “You got engaged to someone you’ve only known for a day?” 

“Well, we spent some time together when we were kids. But that was years and years ago,” Fiyero said, as though this was all perfectly normal. “We had a little time to talk on the journey from the Vinkus. That’s how I know she likes books. But beyond that? I couldn’t tell you a thing about her. Well, I can tell you one other thing—I’m the last possible person in the world that she’d like to marry.” His smile was almost sheepish. “And I can guarantee she won’t care if I flirt with you, Miss Galinda. Or  you, Miss Elphaba. There are…certain things that people expect from me. She understands that.”

“Why would you get engaged to someone you’ve never met before?” Elphaba asked. 

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, why would anyone in Oz choose to do that?” There was something almost but not quite sharp in his voice. Galinda had the sense that she’d missed something in their conversation, like missing a step while walking down the staircase—landing on empty air where her feet should have touched solid ground. 

Luckily Elphaba found Sarima, reading at a table near the Psychology section. She was twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger, utterly absorbed in the text. Galinda watched Fiyero very closely, to see exactly how he looked at her. For a moment there was something soft in his gaze—affection, perhaps. But then it was gone. He walked over to the table, taking the chair across from her. “Hello, dearest.” It sounded almost sardonic. 

Sarima reluctantly put her book down. Her hair was long, even when it was braided back; her braid swept nearly to her mid back. “Dearest,” she replied, looking at anyone but him. 

“Our new friends have offered to give us a tour of the school and the grounds.” He gestured to Elphaba and Galinda. 

Sarima snapped her book shut and stored it away in her bag. “That was very kind of you, Miss Elphaba. Miss Galinda.” Her eyes skated past Galinda’s, just barely not making eye contact. It was unsettling. Galinda tried to tell herself that they were just out of sorts from their long trip and they probably hadn’t slept very well the night before. Starting a month late at a new school would be enough to make anyone nervous. Galinda carefully went back over their interactions, but she didn’t see how anything she said could possibly be seen as offensive. 

As they walked down the staircase, the silence between Fiyero and Sarima was positively glacial. Elphaba rattled off a bunch of meaningless facts about the school’s history and layout that must have come straight off of a brochure, trying to defuse the tension. 

Finally Fiyero put her out of her misery by cutting across her discussion about the first class of women allowed to earn a degree at Shiz—which was a bit unfair, Galinda thought, since she thought it was very interesting. “So what do you guys do for fun around here? Where do you go when you need somewhere to cut loose and relax?” 

Galinda and Elphaba exchanged a look. “I think you’ll find we’re quite boring,” Elphaba said. “I don’t think we’ve left campus since classes started.” 

“What about the Ozdust ballroom?” Fiyero asked. 

Galinda had heard Pfannee and ShenShen discussing it at breakfast one day, but they’d stopped talking as soon as she sat down next to them. “Isn’t that place somewhat illegal? And scandalocious?” She knew there were night clubs in the Emerald City, but she’d never been to one. Father would never let her go, and she’d never particularly wanted to. Spending all night in a hot and sweaty club with the same insufferable Emerald City boys that she had to entertain whenever their parents came to speak with Father wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time. 

“It is both of those things, yeah,” Fiyero said. Sarima said his name, probably to tell him that they couldn’t do anything illegal, but he ignored her. “It’s also not far, and it’s open this weekend. Should we go together? I’m sure I can rustle up a few more volunteers among the student body. They can’t expel all of us.” 

“Fantastic argument, Fiyero,” Sarima said. “Let’s get as many people as possible to go to the illegal nightclub because they can’t expel all of us. Even though they absolutely can. Some of us are here to learn, you know.” 

“Nobody’s forcing you to come,” Fiyero replied. “If you want to read in your room all night, be my guest. Although I wouldn’t think you'd care a whit about whether or not they expelled me. In fact, I'd think you'd want me to flirt with every girl in a five foot radius. Maybe it would disgrace our parents enough that they’d call off the wedding.” Sarima’s mouth narrowed into a thin line. “I thought you want out just as much as I do.” 

Sarima was quiet for a moment. For just a moment, she looked almost sad. But she recovered quickly. “That’s not a bad argument, actually.” 

“Then I’ll go rustle up some more volunteers.” He winked at Elphaba and Galinda. “See you on Saturday,” he said, spinning on his heel and heading back towards the quad. 

Sarima set off in the opposite direction, hiking her bag higher on her shoulder. “Unbelievable,” she muttered. Elphaba and Galinda exchanged a look and then followed her into the walled gardens, dodging a couple making out passionately behind a bush of peonies. 

“I take it you’re not a fan of nightclubs either?” Elphaba asked, Linguification entirely forgotten. Galinda felt exactly the same way. Whatever train wreck they were watching was far more interesting than verb conjugations. 

“I’m not a fan of any loud place filled with people I don’t know,” Sarima replied. She was walking so quickly that Galinda had to hurry to keep up with her. She wished she hadn’t decided to wear her highest of high heels. “It’s easier for Fiyero. He just has to enter a room and everyone throws themselves at him. When I enter a room, all the women and half the men want to kill me so they might have a chance with him.” They passed through one garden after another until they reached one that was empty, and Sarima flopped down on the grass. The flowers clustered in their neat beds and running up and down the red brick walls were all a soft shade of lavender. Water gushed from a fountain in the middle of the garden, arching over statues of gamboling cherubs. “You can ask about it, you know,” she said as Galinda and Elphaba sat down on either side of her. “Everybody wants to. The two of you are more polite than most.” 

Elphaba and Galinda exchanged a look and Galinda knew they were both wondering if this was some sort of trap. “Did you really just meet him?” Elphaba asked finally. 

Sarima nodded. “Mostly. His father’s advisors decided that we would be well suited. They said it was written in the stars, or some nonsense.” 

“You don’t believe in fate?” 

“I don’t believe in anything that science can’t explain,” Sarima replied. “And in any case, they were wrong. We’re not well suited at all. We’re nothing alike. We don’t have a single common interest. I’m sure he’d rather marry a princess who knows how to make people fawn over her. But how could I say no? I have five younger sisters. There are already too many of us living at home as it is, and the money practically ran out before I was born. If I marry Fiyero, his parents will pay for my sisters' dowries. Perhaps they’ll actually have a chance at love matches. At least my marriage will be eminently respectable, if entirely loveless.” 

She sounded entirely resigned to her fate. It saddened Galinda, even though she knew that most girls of her age and social class were expected to make respectable marriages to advance their family’s social standing. Many of them didn’t get the chance go to Shiz at all, or only went to flirt with eligible bachelors. Luckily, Father was more progressive. He’d made it very clear that she would never have to marry anyone she didn’t love. “I’ll write to my father. Perhaps he can intervene—” 

Sarima’s face paled. Something that almost looked like terror flashed in her eyes. “That’s really not necessary.” 

“But I insist—” 

“No. Please don’t tell your father.” Small blotches of red were forming on her cheeks and the back of her neck. “The match is an honor, truly. I didn’t mean to imply…neither of us meant to imply…Well, I’m sure that once we’re married we’ll be perfectly happy together. What we’re having are just…growing pains.” Galinda could practically feel Elphaba's disbelief. Hadn't Fiyero just been talking about finding a way out of the match?

“If you’re certain,” Galinda said, not wanting to make Sarima even more upset than she already was. “Though I’m sure that my father would want to help if he knew what was happening. He thinks arranged marriage is a barbaric practice.”

“I am certain. We are both quite tired and irritable from our journey, nothing more.” 

Perhaps there was another way that Galinda could help Sarima. If she was determined to go through with the marriage, maybe it could still be a love match after all. Galinda thought about the flash of tenderness in Fiyero’s eyes when he’d seen Sarima. Whatever he might say, he didn’t hate her. And Galinda had always longed to play matchmaker. “Why don’t you join Fiyero at the Ozdust? You say that you’ve barely gotten to know each other, right? Maybe if you try some of the things that he likes and he tries some of the things you like, you’ll find that you have more in common than you think. I’ll go with you. That way if Miss Coddle tries to expel you—and she won’t—she’ll have to expel me too.” 

“That’s very kind of you, Galinda, but I couldn’t ask you to take a risk like that.” 

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t ask me. I volunteered. And Elphaba can come with us to—won’t you, Elphaba?” 

Elphaba hesitated. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if I have the right clothes.” 

“Me neither,” Sarima said. “I learned that we were coming to Shiz quite suddenly. Though I doubt any of the clothes I have at home would be appropriate either. I don’t know the first thing about fashion."

"Luckily for you, I know quite a lot about it," Galinda said. "Why don’t we make a day of it? We’ll go into the city center proper and find dresses for both of you, and then we’ll get lunch at one of the cute little sidewalk cafes.” 

“That sounds nice,” Sarima said, giving her a tentative smile. “That’s very kind of you to offer, Galinda.” 

“I’m Galinda the Good, you know. It’s part of my name,” Galinda said with a wink. She checked the clock in the courtyard. “Well, we’re well past Linguification. Sarima, would you like to walk to History with us?” 

Sarima nodded and smiled a little wider. This smile, at least, seemed genuine.

//

Galinda was surprised that Elphaba managed to wait until they got back to their dorm room after classes before she said that she couldn’t go with them to the Ozdust. “My father’s allowance…” She hesitated, probably knowing exactly how Galinda felt about her father. “It covers my basic needs well enough, but it doesn’t extend to…fripperies.” Because Oz forbid Elphaba ever wear a dress that wasn’t black and fashionable in the last century. 

Galinda knew she had to tread carefully, given Elphaba’s prickly pride. “Surely Nessa could lend the money?” 

“She would, but I can’t ask her. She’s having such a good time here. I don’t want to burden her.” 

“Elphaba, she’s your sister! You’re practically obligated to burden her with things like this.” It really took an effort not to shake her, sometimes. Honestly, where did she get these ideas? “But it doesn’t matter, because I was already planning on paying for your dress! And Sarima’s too. Since I asked you both to come to the Ozdust with me. It's only proper.” 

A muscle worked in Elphaba’s jaw as she pulled out her Linguification essay. “That’s a very generous offer, Galinda, but I can’t accept it.” 

“But I’m asking you to accept it. Really, you’d be doing me a favor. Father sends me far more allowance money than I could ever spend.” And he was always offering to buy her more things—another jacket for when the weather turned, another pair of sheets, countless pairs of earrings and necklaces he’d found while walking around the Jeweller’s District that he thought she might like. She knew Father felt bad that his meetings took up so much of his time, so he dealt with his guilt by buying her anything she so much as looked at for more than a couple of seconds. He said that was why he’d introduced her to philanthropy at such a young age, so she could see that there were other little boys and girls in Oz whose parents couldn’t afford to buy them nice things. 

Or, in the case of Frexspar Thropp, simply didn’t want to. 

Elphaba glanced around at all of Galinda’s pink and green trunks, hopefully seeing the truth in her words. “I told you that I have no interest in being another one of your charity cases.” 

“And I told you that you’re not a charity case. If anything, Sarima is a charity case. You’re my friend, and you deserve to have a nice dress you can wear on a night out.” 

“Whatever dress you’re going to find is going to be far too expensive. It’s just too much, Galinda. Friends don’t do things like that.” 

“Well, I do.” 

“I’m never going to be able to repay you for it. And I don’t want to feel indebted to you.” Elphaba raised a hand to stave off her protests. “ I will feel indebted to you, whether you want me to or not. I have to have some pride, you know.” 

Galinda found the whole thing almost unbearably sad, but she suspected that telling Elphaba that would just make things worse. Instead she found herself saying “Fine. You can pay me back for the dress another way. You can help me figure out exactly what happened to my parents.”

There was a long moment of silence. “You don’t think it was just a carriage accident on a snowy road?” Elphaba asked carefully, her tone giving nothing away.

“You don’t.” Elphaba didn’t deny it. “Why?” 

“It’s not so much what happened to your parents,” Elphaba said carefully. “A young couple wants to get home to their baby, a horse gets disoriented by the blowing snow and slips on ice and falls off a mountainside…that’s all plausible. But that wasn’t the first tragedy to befall your family. Two weeks before your parents died, your aunt went missing. Two weeks after they die, your grandmother died—” 

“She’d had a heart condition for years.” 

“But the timing is still…odd. Then, before the year is out, your Ama loses her mind and has to be transferred to a long term care facility. And now, Dr. Dillamond says that another one of your parents’ school friends died around the same time. Either your parents were very, very unlucky or…” She couldn’t seem to get the words out, but the answer was clear: someone wanted to kill them. 

A shiver crept down Galinda’s spine. “Everyone who knew my parents says they were absolutely beloved. They didn’t have any enemies. Why would anyone want to hurt them?” 

“It’s like I said. It’s probably nothing,” Elphaba said, her knuckles whitening around her pen. 

“But maybe not.” Galinda took a deep breath to steel herself. “If my parents died…unnaturally, then I want to know about it. That’s why I need your help. I have no objectivity when it comes to my family. But you have some distance. You can see things that I might overlook. You can figure out the right questions to ask.”

Elphaba hesitated. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Galinda. Even if—when—we find there was no conspiracy, the search might be painful.” 

“I know,” Galinda said, even though she wasn’t really sure she did. But her parents were already dead. One of her earliest memories was of Father telling her the story of how they had died, when she had asked him when she didn’t have a mother like every other little girl she met. It wasn’t like anything they found out was going to bring her parents back. “But I still deserve to know. And this way you have to let me buy you a fancy dress.” 

Elphaba’s lips quirked into such a quick smile that Galinda almost couldn’t be sure that it had been there at all. “Are you really just doing this so you can buy me a fancy dress?” 

“No. But it’s a nice perk.” Elphaba rolled her eyes. “So is that a yes? You’ll come shopping with us?” 

“That’s a yes,” Elphaba said. “Right after you tell me about what happened while we were standing outside of the Animal teacher’s lounge.” 

Galinda grimaced. She’d hoped Elphaba had forgotten all about that, but she really should have known better. She didn’t think Elphaba forgot about anything, ever. 

//

Elphaba took her role as the new leader of their investigation very seriously. She opened one of Galinda’s extra notebooks and wrote down everything they knew so far: everything Dr. Dillamond and Madame Morrible had told Galinda, everything they’d managed to discern from the yearbooks, and everything Galinda had already known before coming to Shiz. She even wrote down the fractured fragments of Galinda’s vision, even though Galinda had no idea what any of it meant. 

“You’re sure this is the first time something like this has happened?” Elphaba asked, looking down at the notebook. Her handwriting was surprisingly neat, almost pretty. It had loops and flourishes in unexpected places. 

Galinda tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Yes. I think I would remember the last time I hallucinated about my parents’ grisly deaths.” Elphaba winced slightly, like she was sorry she’d brought it up. Galinda had to remind herself that if she insinuated that the investigation bothered her in any way, shape, or form then Elphaba would be much less likely to share information with her. “Sorry. That was rude.” 

“It’s all right," Elphaba said, scribbling a note in the page margins.

I’m just a bit…on edge about it all.” Galinda realized that ShenShen hadn’t taken the newspaper with her after all. Fiyero and Sarima stared up at her from the front page, half tucked under the carpet. “Considering that my mother might have been seeing visions of her own death.” 

For a moment it looked like Elphaba wanted to squeeze her hand, but thought better of it. “That’s another avenue we’ll be exploring,” she said. “Then we’ll know if you have anything to worry about. And your visions are a sign of…” She measured her words carefully. “If they’re a sign of something…worse, then we’ll deal with that as it comes. Everything is going to be all right, Galinda. History won’t repeat itself.”

If she noticed that Galinda’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, she didn’t say anything. 

For the first step in their official investigation, Elphaba decided they should write a letter to Everett Tenmeadows. “Even if he wasn’t on speaking terms with your parents when they died, he at least would have known them at Shiz. He could give you more insight into their personalities.” Elphaba left it unsaid, but Galinda heard it anyway: He could tell you if Madame Morrible was right. 

But why would Madame Morrible lie to her? 

They went over each word of the letter again and again, quibbling over phrasing and crossing things out until the paper was littered with spilled ink and they had to start again on a fresh sheet: 

Dear Margreave Tenmeadows, 

I have it on good authority that you were friends with my parents, Larena Upland and Highmuster Arduenna, along with my aunt Amaryllis Arduenna, while the four of you were at Shiz. As such, I was hoping you could share anything you might remember about them: their likes and dislikes, their favorite classes, what they liked to do for fun on the weekends, what kinds of books they liked to read and what student societies they joined. I would be ever so grateful for anything you could share with me about the kind of people that they were. Very few of the people in my daily life knew my parents well, but I’m hoping for better luck here at Shiz. Truly, you can’t imagine how grateful I would be for even the most mundane of stories. 

I eagerly await your reply and remain yours most sincerely, 

Galinda Upland

For a moment Galinda’s pen hesitated over the parchment, wondering if she should add ‘Diggs’ to the end. It was her legal name, technically, ever since the Wizard had formally adopted her. But she usually went by Upland, since Father didn’t often go by his given name. Galinda hadn’t known what his given name was until she was four, when she was playing in the West Tower with his old circus things that he’d brought with him from his world. There were old posters and push carts with his name emblazoned along the side: Oscar Diggs, the Wonderful Wizard of the Lower Midwest. She’d traced her fingers over the wood, sounding the words out carefully, especially Diggs, the name that he’d given to her. 

She decided to leave her signature as it was. It was the name Everett would have known her mother by, after all. She ran it straight to the post office so it would make the next post. With any luck, it should be in Tenmeadows the next day. Hopefully, Everett wouldn’t waste any time in answering it. Hopefully he would be happy to hear from his friends’ daughter. Hopefully he would send her a long letter, filled with page upon page of memories. 

In the meantime, all she could do was wait and check her mailbox every day. There were the usual letters from Father, but no letters from Gillikin. 

Galinda was packing up her things at the end of History class three days later when Dr. Dillamond asked her to stay back for a few minutes. “I won’t keep you long,” he said. “I know that you and Miss Elphaba have Sorcery Seminar later this afternoon.” 

Galinda exchanged a quick look with Elphaba. “Elphaba can stay too,” she said. 

Dr. Dillamond didn’t object. Instead, he opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a pile of pale pink envelopes, neatly arranged in a white box. “These are all of the letters I exchanged with your parents and aunt after we graduated. I thought you’d like to take a look, perhaps make some copies. I’m afraid I must ask you to return them eventually, though. These letters are quite precious to me.” 

All of Galinda’s breath left her in a whoosh. She’d known on some level, of course, that there would be letters like these—letters with her mother’s handwriting, letters that she had touched and sealed with the Upland crest. And yet, she hadn’t expected the sight of those pale pink envelopes to shatter her. She realized, almost distantly, that her hands were shaking too badly to take the box from him. 

“Are you all right, Miss Gli-i-nda?” Dr. Dillamond asked, and she realized she had no idea how to answer him. She couldn’t explain how it felt like she had found and lost her parents all at the same time. 

“She’s fine. Thank you, Dr. Dillamond,” Elphaba said, taking the box from him and tucking it under one arm. She looped her other arm through Galinda’s and squeezed her hand. “She’s been feeling a little under the weather today. I’m going to take her back to our suite. Do you think you could tell Madame Morrible that we’ll both need to skip class today?” 

“Of course, Miss Elphaba. I hope you feel better soon, Miss Gli-i-nda.” Galinda managed to give him a wan smile. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” she told Ephaba as they stepped into the hallway. Elphaba kept an arm around her waist, like she didn’t trust Galinda to walk unaided. Given how shaky her legs felt, Galinda was forced to admit that she might be right. She was surprised by how strong Elphaba was; she could feel the muscles on her arms pressing into her back and sides. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. 

“Of course I did,” Elphaba said. “There’s no way you’ll be able to concentrate on Sorcery when you don’t know what those letters say.” They hurried upstairs, Elphaba fumbling with the key until the lock clicked and the door swung open. Galinda collapsed onto her bed, grabbing for the white box. 

“Do you want privacy?” Elphaba asked, hovering near the foot of the bed. 

“Oz no, Elphaba. Come here.” Galinda patted the duvet next to her. Elphaba looked at it dubiously. “Only if you want to, of course. But it will be a lot harder to read from all the way over there.” Gingerly, Elphaba sat down next to her. She carefully made sure their shoulders didn't touch. 

The box of envelopes stared up at her, each one addressed to a Desmond Dillamond in her mother’s neat handwriting, apart from a handful near the back that had different handwriting. Her mother's handwriting looked just like hers, except her writing was smaller than Galinda’s and she didn’t dot her i’s with the most miniscule of hearts. There seemed to be an unending number of letters—at least fifty, maybe more. 

Elphaba examined the box. “There’s no way to tell which letter came first. Which one do you want to start with?” 

Galinda picked a letter from the middle. For a moment she just looked at the cracked seal, a jagged line running through the turreted tower that was the Upland’s sigil. She could feel her blood pounding in her ears, her heart thudding in her chest as she opened the envelope. For a moment, she thought she was going to be sick. 

Maybe it had been a mistake to want to learn more about her past. It was one thing to know that her parents had died tragically at 24 and quite another to know them as people. Anything she learned about them would only make their deaths more devastating. It would only exacerbate the growing hole in her chest, like a veil of darkness that destroyed everything it touched. 

But Elphaba was still watching her carefully, so Galinda opened the envelope. The letter was dated five months before her parents’ death. 

Dearest Desmond, Momsie had written. 

The garden is completely in flower and it looks gorgeous—I wish you were here to see it! You really must come visit sometime. I know you’re terribly busy at Shiz but I’m sure they could spare you for a weekend. It’s been far too long since we've seen you! 

Rill and Lidia spent the weekend and it was lovely to see them so happy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Rill smile so much. High was right—Lidia really is a miracle worker. 

Galinda is as smiley as ever! I truly couldn’t imagine a more perfect baby, and High is completely devoted to her. Every time I need to wake up for a night feed, he gets up with me. Most of the time we just sit there in the darkness and I know that he’s thinking the same thing I am: how did we get so lucky? How did we get the most wonderful daughter in Oz? Married life suits us, I suppose. Each day feels like pure bliss. I’m sure you don’t want to hear this, but we’re already thinking about giving her a little brother or sister—though hopefully not for another year, at least. Right now, we’re enjoying every moment with her. She changes a little bit more every single day. I never thought I’d be able to notice so many small little changes but I’m more attuned to her than I am to myself. I enclose a picture for proof that she truly is the most wonderful baby. She wants you to visit us too. I made her a miniature version of the sweater you wore on Lurlinemas and she refuses to sleep without it.

Love to your Aunt Suzy. I hope her cough improves. 

All my love, 

Larena Upland

A picture fluttered into Galinda’s lap. There was her mother, looking as fashionable as ever in a pretty pale pink dress that cinched tight at the waist. There was her father in a dark suit—and there, sitting on his lap while both of her parents looked down at her adoringly, was Galinda’s younger self. She had a head of wispy blonde hair and her mouth was open as if in the middle of a laugh, a smile spreading across her face. If Galinda had ever doubted that her parents loved her—and she hadn’t, not really—then this one single picture would have dispelled every single one of her doubts. 

A sob tore from her before she could stop it, the picture blurring in front of her. Elphaba quickly took the letter and photograph and set it on Galinda’s nightstand, where she couldn’t stain them with her tears. She moved the box to the other side of the bed and took Galinda in her arms, holding her as the sobs shuddered through her, her fingers gently carding through Galinda’s hair. “It’s all right,” she murmured, pressing Galinda against her until she could feel the soft, steady pulse of her heartbeat. “It’s all right,” she said again, even though she had to know it wasn’t. It could never be all right because her parents had loved her more than anything in the world and now they were dead and she would never ever get to see them again. 

Elphaba held her as she cried, murmuring soothingly under her breath, brushing Galinda's hair back from her face, her calm and steady presence reminding Galinda that at the very least, she wasn’t alone now. Whatever the rest of the letters said, whatever else they might find, they would absorb it together.

Chapter Text

It seemed that everyone at Shiz had also suddenly found themselves in need of proper formalwear for the Ozdust, because all of the clothing boutiques that lined Shiz’s main street were packed with students. Luckily, being the Wizard’s daughter had its perks. The moment Galinda entered her favorite boutique, she was immediately surrounded by a flurry of attendants, who all began fawning over her and suggesting the right shade of pink or green or lilac fabric to match her eyes. They seemed vaguely disappointed when Galinda told them that she wasn’t shopping for her. 

Sarima and Elphaba looked at the fancy dresses like they had never seen them before. Sarima rubbed the fabric of the silken skirts between her fingers, while Elphaba didn’t even seem to want to touch the dresses as if she was afraid she would ruin them. “You won't know if a dress fits if you don’t try it on!” Galinda prompted. They both looked at her blankly. She took a deep breath. It seemed that she was going to have her work cut out for her. “Which ones do you like?” 

“Why don’t you help Sarima first?” Elphaba asked, ignoring a group of girls that kept looking over at them and whispering. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” Sarima said, looking around at the racks of dresses. 

“How about some blues or greens? Maybe some darker pinks?” Galinda took a few dresses off the rack and made sure Sarima snagged a dressing room before she turned to helping Elphaba. 

“You really don’t need to do this,” Elphaba said for the fourth or fifth time, as Galinda rummaged through the racks. 

“Of course I do,” Galinda replied, riffling through a rack of dark blue dresses that would set off Elphaba’s skin nicely. “Most of your clothes would be appropriate at a funeral, maybe. Not a semi-illicit night club.” 

“Well, they were mainly used for funerals.” 

Galinda nearly dropped the dress in her hand. “You’ve never been to a party?” 

“No?” 

Galinda put the dress back on the rack so she could give Elphaba her full attention. “You mean to tell me that this is going to be your first party?” 

Elphaba’s brow furrowed. “Yes, but isn’t that typical? We’re not very old—” 

“Even I’ve been to parties. And Father has always been particular about who I socialize with.” Granted, the functions that Galinda had been invited to weren’t like the Ozdust. They were rather staid occasions with dancing and parlor games in the homes of the Emerald City elite, with perhaps a glass or two of alcohol if the host was feeling particularly generous. “Oz, I didn’t know this was going to be your first party.” Though she probably should have, given the snippets Elphaba had shared about her childhood. “We need dresses with more jewels. You need to look brilliant.” 

“Galinda—” Elphaba tried to grab her wrist, but Galinda had already turned to inspect a rack of purple dresses studded with rhinestones. “It isn’t going to matter what I wear. Everyone is already going to stare.” 

“Then we’ll give them something to stare at,” Galinda replied, settling on three blue dresses and a deep purple dress with rhinestones that glittered between the pleats of the skirt. “Here, try these on.” 

By the time that Sarima had tried on three dresses and Galinda had approved all of them, Elphaba was still in the dressing room. Galinda was starting to get concerned as she made her way towards the back of the store, almost knocking into a girl whose arms were piled high with yellow fabric. “So sorry,” she murmured, as she narrowly managed to avoid a collision. 

The girl glared at her, until she realized who Galinda was and her smile turned saccharine. “My apologies, your Ozness,” she said in a silky voice. “Would you like to try one of these dresses? The yellow would look positively Oztastic with your hair—” 

Galinda ignored her, making her way to the last dressing room and knocking softly on the door. “Elphaba?” she whispered. “Is everything all right?” 

“Everything’s fine,” Elphaba said, but her voice sounded thick, like she was either on the verge of tears or had recently been crying. 

Galinda’s heart dropped. “Let me in,” she said, jiggling the doorknob. “Elphaba Thropp, let me in or I swear I’ll break down this door—” Elphaba opened the door quickly and Galinda slipped, almost falling over the threshold. But before she could fall, Elphaba’s arms came around her to catch her, leaning against the dressing room wall to steady them both. They were so close that Galinda could feel the rise and fall of Elphaba’s chest as she breathed and feel the flutter of her heartbeat under her fingertips. Warmth pooled through her wherever Elphaba touched her. 

“You should really be more careful, Miss Upland,” Elphaba said, her breathing tight and almost unsteady. “This is the second time I’ve had to catch you.” She could have set Galinda upright, but she didn’t. Galinda found she didn’t mind. There was something almost comforting about being wrapped in Elphaba’s arms like this. It made her feel safe, even though she’d only known Elphaba for a handful of weeks. 

“Or you could have opened the door when I knocked the first time,” Galinda said, and if Elphaba heard how breathless she was she didn’t comment. For the first time, she saw that Elphaba was wearing one of the dresses Galinda had picked out: a deep rich midnight blue, with diamonds nestled between the folds of the skirt like stars. A handful of diamonds were scattered across the bodice, swirling together like a galaxy, and the cutaway sleeves revealed Elphaba’s toned forearms. 

Galinda had shared a room with Elphaba for a month and a half now. Why hadn’t she realized until just now that Elphaba had toned forearms? 

Elphaba finally seemed to realize that they’d been holding on to each other for at least a minute because she gently set Galinda back down on her feet and shut the door behind them. She cleared her throat, surveyed her reflection in the mirror, tried to say something, and then thought better of it. 

“Elphie, you look gorgeous,” Galinda breathed. The dark blue enhanced the deep green of her skin and the skirt swirled around her, making it look like she was clothed in the night sky. The diamonds twinkled like stars. 

Elphaba’s cheeks darkened, like a blush. “You don’t think it’s too much?” 

“No. Not at all.” It took an effort not to look at her chest, or her forearms. “You look…beautiful.” She cleared her throat, glancing at the dresses that Elphaba had already tried on. “We’ll take all of them. You deserve to have more than one beautiful dress.” 

“Galinda, I can’t let you—” 

“It’s not a matter for discussion.” Galinda swept the dresses into her arms before Elphaba could pull them away. “I’ll take the blue one when you’re finished with it, and then I’ll pay for everything up front.” She left the dressing room quickly, so quickly she nearly fell again. The space suddenly felt too close, too warm. If she wasn’t careful she would brush against Elphaba again, and one touch would be enough to set her entire body on fire. 

Elphaba was her roommate. She shouldn’t be thinking such things about her roommate, of all people. 

Her heart was still racing as she exited the changing rooms. Sarima was sitting on the bench near the front of the store, reading a book about the human brain. Her brow furrowed as Glinda added her dresses to the growing pile in her arms. “You really don’t need to do this, you know. The Tigelaars are wealthy enough. They give me a stipend so I can look respectable—” 

“Really, you’re doing me a favor. Father is very generous with my allowance.” Glinda headed straight for the counter and paid before either girl could change her mind. Once the dresses had been wrapped in soft tissue paper and stored in stiff bags for the short walk back to Shiz, she took a seat next to Sarima as they waited for Elphaba to finish getting ready. 

“Thank you,” Sarima said, resting her bag in her lap. “That was…kind of you.” 

“Don’t think anything of it. Please. I’ve been very blessed in my life. It’s only right that I should share those blessings with others, where I can.” 

Sarima looked at her oddly, like Galinda was a puzzle that she couldn’t solve. “I didn’t expect you to be kind.” 

That finally made Galinda look away from the changing room door and forget the feeling of Elphaba’s hands on her waist, steadying her. Holding her. “Why wouldn’t I be?” It was in her title, after all. Galinda the Good. Galinda the Deserving. Galinda the Lucky, even though her parents were dead.

“You’re the adopted daughter of the most powerful man in Oz. If the rumors are right, then you have the Wizard’s ear. You could be imperious, or mean, or cruel, or entitled. But…you don’t seem to be any of those things.” 

“I don’t want to be any of those things. That certainly isn’t how my father raised me. He taught me to be kind and generous, just like him.” 

And there was that strange look in Sarima’s eyes again, the one that Galinda could never quite figure out. It was almost like fear—but what would she have to be afraid of here? Surely she was safe at Shiz? Did it have something to do with Fiyero? Perhaps he acted one way around strangers and another way behind closed doors. 

Galinda turned her back to the rest of the store, to block out the chatter of the workers on the shop floor and the tangle of other Shiz students. “If you’re unhappy with Fiyero…if he’s cruel to you—” 

Sarima blanched. “Oz, no. Fiyero is a good man, Glinda. He would never…he wouldn’t do that.” 

Galinda wanted to ask her what else was wrong, but she sensed Sarima wouldn’t tell her the answer. “Were you being truthful when you said that you thought you would ultimately be happy with him? Or were you just trying to placate me?” 

Sarima bit her lip. “A little bit of both. I could be happy with him, perhaps, but I’m not his type. I’m sure he would prefer to be with someone just as flamboyant as he is, just as sparkling in conversation. As you can see, I’m neither.” She shrugged, like having a quieter personality was a flaw that she’d long since accepted. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with that, Sarima.” 

“Not for me, maybe. Fiyero is kind. He’s trying to spare my feelings as much as he can, while still trying to find a way out of it. But I know that this can’t be the life he wants for himself. I can’t be the person he wants.” 

Galinda squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that when Fiyero sees you at the Ozdust, he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.” 

Sarima blushed. “That’s very kind of you, but I don’t think that even the Wizard himself could pull off a miracle like that.” 

“Leave it to me. You won’t have to worry about a thing. I promise.” Galinda was practically buzzing with excitement. There was little she loved more than a challenge—and she doubted the situation was as dire as Sarima thought. With any luck, she could take the tenderness that Fiyero clearly felt for his fiancee and turn it into something more, something lasting. 

Elphaba finally came out of the dressing room, swinging her book bag over one arm. Galinda stood, slipping one arm through Elphaba’s and the other arm through Sarima’s. “The afternoon is still young,” she said, before Elphaba could have a sudden change of heart and decide to return the dresses. “Let’s get hot chocolate!” 

The hours leading up to the Ozdust seemed to melt away. There was so much to do to get them all ready, and then Nessa dropped in to show Elphaba her most recent painting and wanted to go to the Ozdust with them. Thanks to Governor Frexspar Thropp’s blatant favoritism, she had plenty of appropriate dresses to choose from. Galinda put her to work styling Elphaba’s hair, while she worked on Sarima’s. Sarima’s hair was thick but straight and it was smooth as silk; it cooperated perfectly when Glinda braided it down her back. Glinda couldn’t help being jealous; her own hair never quite lay flat until she smothered it with hairspray.

Once everyone was perfectly put together, Glinda got dressed herself—at least, as much as she could with the dress’s complicated mess of stays at the back. She wore an orange, pink, and white dress that reminded her of the sunset over the Emerald Palace. It was scandalociously shorter than most of the dresses she usually wore, so it seemed like the appropriate thing to wear to a semi-illicit night club. 

When she peeked out of the bathroom, Sarima and Nessa were discussing an assignment for another class. Elphaba was looking at something that was half hanging out of Galinda’s wardrobe. “What is this?” she asked, pulling it out into the light. 

It was a pointed black hat. At first Glinda had no idea where it had come from; perhaps the servants had packed it on accident, because she was quite sure she’d never seen it in her life. Then she remembered a package from Gillikin her father had dropped off three weeks before she left for Shiz. “It’s my cousin’s. She makes hats and likes to give them as gifts.” Elphaba examined it at arm’s length. “You can keep it, if you want it. Black isn’t my color.” 

“But it’s mine?” Elphaba asked wryly, gesturing to her wardrobe full of black dresses. She pulled the hat on. “What do you think?” 

“Keep it. It looks much better on you than it does on me.” Glinda turned, so Elphaba would see that her dress wasn’t all the way fastened. “Can you help me with my dress?” 

Elphaba hesitated. “I’ve never laced up stays before—” 

“That’s all right. I’ll talk you through it.” Elphaba followed her into the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind them so they would have some privacy. It took her a moment to figure out where to grab the stays and a few minutes for Galinda to explain how to lace them, but eventually she felt Elphaba’s fingers against her back, carefully and diligently lacing up her stays. Every so often Elphaba’s fingertips accidentally brushed against her bare skin, and Galinda tried to ignore the shiver they sent down her spine. 

“Can you breathe?” Elphaba asked as she laced up the top of the dress. “I don’t want to pull too tight—” 

“It’s perfect, Elphaba. Thank you.” Galinda surveyed them in the mirror for a moment. They looked older somehow; less like anxious schoolgirls on their first big night out. 

Elphaba sighed, fiddling with her hair until Galinda slapped her hand away before she could mess up Nessa’s hard work. “I’m not sure this is a good idea, Galinda. You can dress me in silks, you can have Nessa style my hair…but none of that is going to change the verdigris.” 

“We’re going to have so much fun,” Galinda replied, before Elphaba could let those horrendible thoughts penetrate any deeper. “Just wait and see.”

And she silently promised them both that she would do whatever she could to make this night special for Elphaba. She deserved to have a good time at her first party.

//

Fiyero was waiting downstairs at the appointed time, wearing a blue and gold vest over dark tailored pants. He made a show of glancing at his watch. “Oz, if you’d waited any longer we might have missed the boat—” Then he saw Sarima in her beautiful pale blue gown, his voice trailed off, and Galinda felt a thrill of satisfaction. She (and Sarima, of course) had managed to make Fiyero Tigelaar speechless. She was sure that didn't happen often.

“What were you saying, dearest?” Sarima asked, her voice a touch playful.

Fiyero blinked once, then twice. His eyes did one cursory sweep, from Sarima’s crown braid to the delicate pink heels that she’d borrowed from Galinda. “I was just saying that we’re going to miss the boat if we don’t get going.” He held his arm out to her and she rested a hand in the crook of his elbow and let him pull her away. 

“Did I miss something?” Nessa asked, glancing between them like she was watching a tennis match. 

“Perhaps only the start of something beautiful,” Galinda replied as they fell in step behind them. 

A group of other students were already assembled near the docks, where a flotilla of boats were ready to take them to the Ozdust. “Oh, Alix is here!” Nessa said, waving until a girl with wavy dark hair wearing a light green dress that was almost exactly the same color as her eyes came over to them. 

“Ness! I didn’t know you were coming!” the girl said. 

“I finished the painting earlier than expected,” Nessa said. “Does your offer still stand?” It was hard to tell in only the stark moonlight, but Galinda thought she could see a flush rise on the back of her neck. She exchanged a look with Elphaba, but Elphaba seemed just as surprised as she felt. 

“Yes. My imaginary dance card is entirely empty. All of my dances are yours, if you want them.” The blush spread up the back of Nessa’s neck. 

Elphaba cleared her throat. “Nessa, are you going to introduce us to your friend?” 

Nessa looked up at them like she’d forgotten anyone else was there. “This is Alix. We have Painting together. Alix, this is my sister Elphaba and her roommate Galinda.” 

Alix gave them a nod and a quick, almost sharp, smile. “Alixandra Duffroy. Munchkinland. My apologies. I should have introduced myself sooner. It’s just that I hear so much about you from Ness that I feel like I know you both already.” 

“Ness,” Elphaba muttered under her breath, so quietly that only Galinda could hear it. 

“It’s lovely to meet you, Alix,” Galinda said. Elphaba didn’t say anything, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you a first year as well?” 

Alix nodded. “I’m studying Art. My uncles want me to get a degree and they don’t much care what I get it in, so I thought I’d study something that I actually enjoy.” 

“How did you meet Nessa?” Elphaba asked. Nessa shot her a look that clearly said please don’t ruin this for me by asking too many questions. Elphaba pretended not to see it. 

But if the questions bothered Alix, she did a good job hiding it. “We tried to use the same charcoal pencils on the first day of class.” Nessa laughed, like they were in on the same joke. “Then we sat at the same table and realized we like the same artists that the art establishment criticizes.” 

“They don’t just criticize them,” Nessa said. “They utterly refuse to show their art at the major exhibitions. It’s an unconscionable stifling of intellectual freedom.” Galinda didn’t think she’d ever heard Nessa sound so impassioned, or so animated, about anything. 

“I don’t think the art establishment has ever cared about intellectual freedom,” Alix said. “They’ve never cared about anything that doesn’t tell the same old tired stories from Oz’s past, in exactly the way they want it told.” The line shifted forward and their conversation had to be interrupted as they climbed into the boats. Galinda settled next to Elphaba in the stern; the boat was so crowded that they had to sit together with their knees touching. Through the thin fabric of her dress, Galinda could feel the heat rising off of Elphaba’s skin. The air filled with anticipation as Fiyero pushed their boat away from the shore and it glided soundlessly across the surface of the water. The night sky arched overhead, filled with an uncountable number of stars, punctured here and there by Shiz’s towers and steeples.  

“I had no idea Nessa was so interested in art,” Galinda said. She reached out a hand to graze the surface of the water, watching little droplets of water catch the light as they fell from her fingers. 

“Neither did I,” Elphaba said. She hadn’t stopped looking at Alix, who was sitting next to Nessa in the middle of the boat. Both girls were laughing uproariously. “I don’t think art is the only thing she’s interested in.” 

“It seems like she’s having fun.” 

“At least that.” But Elphaba didn’t seem entirely convinced. “I just…thought she would have told me about her.” 

“Maybe she hasn’t had a chance yet.” Nessa had spent most of the last couple of weeks in the art lab, working on a project that she refused to tell anyone about. “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything, Elphaba. Really.” 

Elphaba sighed, adjusting the laces on her boots. “You’re probably right. She talked nonstop about going to Shiz last year. I just want to make sure she has a wonderful time.” 

“And I’m sure she will,” Galinda replied. “She’ll have a very good time tonight, at least.” 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for the rest of the ride. Galinda couldn’t help noticing how the soft moonlight played off Elphaba’s hair, gilding the back of her head silver. She looked so…

Beautiful. The word slipped out before she could stop it. Galinda was glad that the darkness could disguise the heat in her cheeks. 

She could have spent at least another thirty minutes sitting with Elphaba while the rest of their friends chattered back and forth. Even Sarima had started to relax, bantering with Fiyero and Alix. When the boat crested a bit of a wave, Fiyero placed a hand on her waist to steady her, almost instinctively. Galinda saw Sarima stiffen for a moment but then she seemed to relax into his touch. A bit of the tension in her shoulders eased. 

Elphaba followed her line of sight. “Do you have anyone…” She thought for a moment, as if weighing her words. “Are you courting anyone back in the Emerald City?”

“No.” Elphaba tried to hide her surprise. “Oh, plenty of suitors have tried. But I just haven’t been interested in any of them.” She’d known most of the Emerald City’s eligible bachelors for most of her life, and as a rule they were only interested in her wealth, her family, and/or her connections. Most of them still didn’t really know much about her, outside of what they could glean from the articles in Ozmopolitan. 

“You’re waiting for the right person?” Elphaba asked. 

“Yes. I just have to hope that when it’s time, I’ll know who they are. And I doubt they’ll come from the Emerald City.” The boat rocked on a swell as a cluster of glittering lights appeared in the distance. “What about you?” 

“I’ve never had any suitors. The…green makes it difficult.” 

“I don’t see why it should. Your skin is a lovely shade of green.” Then they got their first glimpse of the Ozdust ballroom and, mercifully, all conversation ceased. 

There was a disembarkation point on a narrow dock and then a ramp that led them to the club proper, which had somehow been situated under the surface of the water. A glass roof arched above them, colorful schools of fish swimming by and leaving columns of bubbles bobbing in their wake. The floor was crowded with people, the air smelling of sweat and perfume and spilled alcohol. But there was something else lingering in the air, something much less definable: a sense of excitement, a kind of possibility. Groups of girls in shiny dresses batted their eyelashes at groups of boys in midnight blue suits and the couples on the dance floor held each other more closely than they would be permitted to at Shiz. 

The bar was entirely staffed by Animals. Two Monkeys stood behind the wooden countertop, their hands a blur as they prepared drink after drink. The soft light sparkled off the bottles of differently colored alcohol neatly arranged on shelves behind them. An Animal band played in one corner of the dance floor. In fact, Galinda realized there were more Animals here than she had ever seen in one place. There weren’t many Animals in the Emerald City, and there were only a few more at Shiz. In fact, before she talked to Dr. Dillamon, she didn’t think she’d ever really had a conversation with an Animal at all. 

For a moment all the Shiz students just took everything in with awe. Then Fiyero took Sarima’s hand and pulled her towards the dance floor. “Why come to a club if you don’t want to dance?” he asked, and Sarima blushed. Alix and Nessa followed them.

Galinda was about to go after them when she became aware of the whispers. At first there were just a few of them, but they began to spread faster and faster until they’d made their way around the ballroom. One of the bartenders dropped a glass. The musicians stopped playing. The dancer stopped dancing. 

Everyone was looking at Elphaba. 

Galinda saw Elphaba’s shoulders tense as the whispers became interspersed with laughter. “What in Oz is she wearing?” someone whispered. 

Someone just behind Galinda asked “Where did she get that hideodeous hat?” 

“What was she thinking, coming here?” someone else replied. 

Galinda felt sick. Why couldn’t everyone else see what she did? Why couldn’t everyone else see how nicely Elphaba's dark blue dress contrasted with her green skin? Why couldn’t everyone see how she looked positively regal, even while wearing a costume hat? Why didn't they see how well it suited her?

And how had Elphaba dealt with this—the laughter, the sneers, the jeers barely concealed behind tilted hands—for more than 20 years? 

Then Elphaba looked back at her, and she felt even worse, because Elphaba looked at her like she thought this was her fault. Her fingertips reached up to brush the brim of her hat and her eyes were hard. “I thought you were different,” she whispered. 

“Elphaba, I never meant for this to happen!” she cried. 

It was like Elphaba didn’t even hear her. “You went to all that trouble and it was all a cruel joke?” 

“No, of course it wasn’t. Elphaba, I like your hat!” She tried to take Elphaba’s hand, but her roommate pulled away from her. She strode towards the dance floor, the other Ozdust patrons scattering before her. The dance floor cleared. Galinda waited for someone to stand up for her, for Fiyero to say that he’d invited her, for Nessa to tell everyone to stop laughing, but no one said anything. They all just watched in silence as Elphaba set her hat on the floor in the middle of the dance floor and began to dance. 

Galinda was an accomplished dancer from years and years of dance lessons and attendance at Emerald City balls, but Elphaba’s dance steps were like nothing she had ever learned. It was if her body was moving to a music that only she could hear, swaying and spinning and contorting into strange, sharp positions. She brought her hands to her stomach and then pushed them out in front of her. She spun like a top. She beat her heels against the floor until the sharp clicks echoed across the ballroom. Her dance was provoking more ridicule; people didn’t bother to hide their laughter or their sneers now. But Galinda could barely hear them, because she thought Elphaba was mesmerizing. For a couple of minutes all she could do was watch as Elphaba danced across the floor, purposefully ignoring all the people laughing at her. But then Elphaba stopped and Galinda saw the hitch in her shoulders, and she realized that Elphaba's braverism came at a cost. 

And Galinda couldn’t let her dance alone for a single moment longer. 

She rushed to her side, swept the hat off the floor, and placed it on top of Elphaba’s head. It belonged there. “What are you doing?” Elphaba asked. Her voice was thick and Galinda could see tears glistening in her eyes. It broke her heart, and in that moment Galinda would have given up the Emerald City and all of its wonders if it meant that Elphaba would never be treated this cruelly again. 

“Helping you,” she whispered, bringing her hands to her stomach and then holding them out again. Elphaba just stared at her, so she repeated the movement again. Finally Elphaba followed suit, bringing her hands in and then out. When she arced her hands over her head, so did Galinda. When she spun, Galinda followed her. They danced together, tentatively at first and then a little faster as Galinda picked up the steps. After a few minutes Fiyero and Sarima, bless them, joined in. The other dancers began to join too, reluctantly at first and then with more enthusiasm as more and more people followed them, until no one was laughing anymore. 

When Elphaba stopped, the rest of the dance continued on without her. When Galinda wrapped her arms around her she felt Elphaba practically collapse into her, as if her body had lost the strength to hold itself up. She found herself tearing up too. She’d known that Elphaba had faced certain…challenges because of her skin color, of course, but she hadn’t really understood how deeply it had affected her. Elphaba had always acted like she was above other people’s criticisms; Galinda, who was always far too invested in what other people thought, had always admired that about her. But now she realized that Elphaba had been faking it, the entire time. The looks and the comments hurt, and for far too long there had been nobody to protect her from them. 

Galinda told herself that was going to change, now. 

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Elphaba said, once she was able to speak again. Galinda gently wiped the tears off of her cheeks, wishing she’d thought to bring a handkerchief. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand,” Galinda replied. The musicians were playing again now, the music transitioning into something quick and upbeat. “Would you like to dance with me, Miss Elphaba?” 

Elphaba squeezed her hand. “That sounds lovely, Miss Galinda.” 

They danced for at least an hour, maybe two. Elphaba was a wonderful dancer—much better than Galinda had been expecting, considering that she hadn’t thought the Governor would have paid for her to attend dance lessons. Each of her movements were crisp and precise and she knew almost as many dances as Galinda did. When she did know a dance, she could do every step perfectly. In a way, Galinda almost wished that she’d had to guide Elphaba through the steps. Then she’d be forced to only think about dancing, not the way that a thrill went through her every time Elphaba’s hand pressed against hers, or the way she couldn’t stop looking into her soft green eyes as they danced together, or the way heat coiled in her core every time Elphaba’s hand came to her waist or back. None of her other dancing partners had ever had such a physical effect on her, but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. She’d never met anyone quite like Elphaba Thropp. 

When the band took a break to rotate out their pianist, Fiyero came to find them. Sarima was on his arm and they were both flushed from dancing and smiling broadly. “Do you want us to get you anything?” he asked, pointing to the bar. He had to shout to be heard over the general hum of noise. 

Galinda met Elphaba’s sparkling eyes. She looked like she’d never had a better night. “Maybe lavender lemonade?” Although there was often alcohol at the Emerald City functions she attended, she usually didn’t drink. She liked to have her wits about her, when so many people expected her to be perfect. 

“Lavender lemonade sounds perfect,” Elphaba replied, squeezing her hand. Galinda wondered how she could touch her so casually, like every touch didn’t send electricity coursing through her. 

With a sinking feeling Galinda realized that perhaps it didn’t. Maybe Elphaba didn’t have these confusifying feelings. Maybe she was just being ridiculous. 

They went to stand near the edge of the dance floor, watching as Fiyero ordered their drinks. “Thank you,” Elphaba said, looking down at the polished floor under their feet. “For stepping in for me like that, even when you didn’t have to.” 

Galinda couldn’t help smiling at her. Elphaba had such soft eyes. “Of course,” she said. “What are roommates for?” 

Galinda had a strange sense then, of the world holding its breath. It was like she knew, somehow, that she was standing on the edge of a change: that in just another second, her life would never be the same.

She was about to turn to Elphaba to ask if she felt it too, when she noticed the whispers near the bottom of the ramp that led to the docks. But they were no longer aimed at Elphaba; in fact, nobody was even looking at them. They were looking towards the doorway, where a woman was staggering inside. They were all backing away from her, like they had backed away from Elphaba—and as the woman came closer, Galinda understood why. She had long blonde hair that cascaded nearly to her knees. It might have been pretty once, but now it was frizzy and matted, with leaves and sticks were caught in the ends. She wore a long white dress that looked like a nightgown, but the edges were torn and covered in a mixture of mud and blood. Her shoes were nearly worn through and the edges of her fingers and toes were blue, as if she’d spent the night sleeping outside. There was mud smeared on the side of her face and dark brown eyes were wild. 

Galinda gasped. Elphaba stiffened beside her and she realized that she’d seen it too. 

The stranger had Galinda’s eyes. 

Two bouncers came to intercept the woman but she brushed past them. “Don’t touch me!” she cried, her eyes sweeping the dance floor. When they landed on Galinda, Galinda felt shock shear straight through her. She knew those eyes. She saw them every time she looked in a mirror. 

The woman’s jaw dropped. “It’s you,” she murmured. “It’s really you.” Her voice was gravelly, like she hadn’t had anything to drink in a long time. She staggered forward and now Galinda could see that she was favoring her right leg. She looked like she’d just spent a day or two fighting a swamp, and the swamp had very nearly won. 

Galinda couldn’t speak. She felt Elphaba’s arm come around her, holding her tightly. This woman was clearly unstable. Perhaps she was insane too. Or maybe she wasn’t really looking at Galinda. Maybe she was looking beyond her, for someone else—

“Galinda,” the woman murmured, like her name was something necessary for survival. “It’s really you.” 

“I don’t know you,” Galinda said, her heart pounding. But somehow she was sure that wasn’t true. She did know this woman. She wasn’t sure how, but she could feel it like an itch at the back of her head. Something about her wild eyes and long matted hair was familiar, in a part of Galinda’s brain that was long past conscious thought.

The woman grabbed her arm, fingernails that were more like claws digging into her skin. “Oz, you look just like your mother. But your eyes…those are all your father’s.” 

“There must be some mistake,” Galinda said. “I don’t know who you are.” 

Even though she thought she did. But that was impossible, because her entire family had been dead for twenty years.

“Get off of her!” Elphaba snapped, her voice harder than Galinda had ever heard it. 

But the woman didn’t react, or didn’t hear. She continued to look right at Galinda, like she was in some kind of trouble and Galinda was the only one who could save her. “Desmond,” she breathed. “You need to get Desmond. He’ll know, he can—” 

“What in Oz is going on here?” Madame Morrible’s sharp voice cut through the din, and Galinda couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief. Madame Morrible would know what to do. She would know who this strange woman was, and what she wanted. 

She pushed her way through the crowd, students scattering to get out of her way. Her hair was in artful disarray, like it had been styled by a windstorm, and she wore pale blue robes. Her heels clicked against the stone, and the woman flinched at the sound of her footsteps. “Get Desmond,” she whispered, her grip tightening around Glinda’s wrist. “Please, he can tell you—” 

Madame Morrible stopped in her tracks and gasped. She looked startled. No, it was more than that—she looked like the ground had crumbled beneath her feet. Galinda’s stomach turned over. In all the years she had known the sorceress, Madame Morrible had never once seemed uncertain, much less entirely nonplussed. “Amaryllis?” she whispered. Her voice wavered slightly. 

But that was impossible. Amaryllis Arduenna had been missing for nearly twenty years. She’d been presumed dead. 

But no one had ever found a body, Galinda reminded herself. 

The woman finally let go of Galinda. She spun around to face Madame Morrible, drawing herself up to her full height. Her dark eyes blazed. She opened her mouth and Galinda thought she was going to say something, but instead she spat at Madame Morrible’s feet. For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other, and then Amaryllis fell over, senseless. Madame Morrible barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor. 

Madame Morrible turned to an owl wearing a neat tweed suit coat who must have been the proprietor. “Notify Shiz that we need medical assistance.” She turned back to the circle of Ozdust patrons who had all come to crowd around the edges of the ballroom. “Tonight’s program has concluded,” she snapped. Everyone scurried for the exits, except for Galinda, who felt like she was frozen in place. Elphaba squeezed her hand. She didn’t move either. 

Madame Morrible picked the woman up easily and then turned back to them. “Come with me, Miss Galinda,” she said. Her words jolted Galinda out of her stupor. She hurried to follow, with Elphaba close on her heels. Madame Morrible strode purposefully across the room and up the ramp, towards the boats. 

“What happened?” Galinda cried. Her heart was still beating so hard it felt almost painful, and it was hard to catch her breath. She had to be wrong, even though she knew she wasn’t. “Who is that woman?” 

Madame Morrible didn’t look at her. “Galinda, meet Amaryllis Arduenna. She’s your aunt.”

Chapter Text

Galinda silently paced the stone floor of the infirmary, listening to the murmur of voices on the other side of the curtain. She had never visited the infirmary before; it was a long and rectangular room at the far side of the main building, with rows of beds along either side. There were long rows of cabinets clustered at one end, next to a sizable herb cabinet. Advances in medical technology had almost eliminated the need for herbal medicine, but most people had kept theirs just in case. Dormer windows high above them let in pale moonlight, and there was a view on one side out over the poppy fields and along the road that led into the city of Shiz proper. All of the beds were empty apart from the bed in the corner, which had fluffy white curtains drawn around it to protect her aunt’s privacy. Madame Morrible was speaking to a doctor and the night nurse in a low voice, but they were talking too quietly for Galinda to hear what they said even when she strained to hear. 

Elphaba sat in the chair next to the door. Galinda had told her that she didn’t have to wait for her and she could go back to their dorm room; it was clear that it was going to be a long night. But Elphaba had chosen to stay with her, even though it had been more than an hour and it was getting very, very late—probably closer to dawn now. The night sky was still an inky black, but if Galinda squinted she could see the first traces of gray on the horizon. 

Elphaba had only left once, to get them both sweaters to wear over their Ozdust clothes. The ball dresses did little to keep out the night chill. When they’d arrived Galinda hadn’t been able to stop shivering, although she wasn’t sure if that had more to do with the cold and silent boat ride back across the lake or the sheer impossibility of everything that had just happened.

Her aunt, alive after nearly twenty years. Here, after disappearing without a trace. And she’d looked at Galinda and known her. Galinda felt a shiver crawl down her spine when she thought about the desperation in her aunt’s eyes, how she’d gripped onto Galinda like she thought she might disappear in front of her. Where had Amaryllis Arduenna been all this time? And why hadn’t she found Galinda sooner? 

“We should go tell Dr. Dillamond,” Elphaba said, her voice jolting Galinda out of her reverie. “She told you to talk to him. We know from the yearbooks that they were close.” 

Desmond. Galinda remembered now that was Dr. Dillamond’s first name. “It’s the middle of the night.” 

“I think he’d want to be woken up for this,” Elphaba said. “If my friend went missing for twenty years and appeared out of nowhere covered in mud and blood, I’d want to know.” 

She was right, but Galinda found herself glancing over towards the bed again. What if her aunt woke up while she was away? What if she wanted to see her, but Galinda wasn’t there? 

Madame Morrible opened the curtain and strode over to them, her heels clicking against the stone. “How is she?” Galinda asked. 

“Sit down, dearie. You’ve had quite a shock.” Madame Morrible put a hand on her shoulder and guided her gently but firmly into the chair next to Elphaba. 

“Is she awake?” 

Madame Morrible hesitated. Her hand rested on Galinda’s shoulder for a moment before moving to the center of her back. “I’m afraid your aunt won’t be awake any time soon, Miss Galinda. She’s extremely dehydrated and malnourished and she seems to have hurt her ankle. The doctors are intubating her, but it will take at least a day for her to regain consciousness.” 

“Then I’ll sit with her,” Galinda said. She could afford to miss a day of classes. Surely her professors would understand. She couldn’t leave her aunt, not when she was the last remaining link to Galinda’s past, and Galinda had thought she was gone forever. 

“Miss Galinda, I don’t think that’s wise—” 

“I have to. She’s my family.” Amaryllis had gone to school with her parents. She’d known Galinda as a baby. Maybe she could answer all of Galinda’s questions that no one else had ever been able to. 

Madame Morrible’s lips pursed in disapproval, but she didn’t try to argue. “You should also know that the doctor found…evidence of violence on Ms. Arduenna’s body.” Galinda’s stomach dropped. “Your aunt will tell us more when she wakes up, but it’s quite likely that wherever she’s been for the last two decades, she was being held there against her will.” 

Galinda’s stomach roiled. She thought about the mud and blood on Amaryllis’s dress, the haunted look in her eyes, her torn sleeves. “But why would anyone want to hurt her?” 

“There are any number of reasons why someone would want to hurt a beautiful, intelligent, wealthy woman,” Madame Morrible said. “But there’s a chance that Ms. Arduenna may be…scarred, mentally, from her experience. You’ll want to tread carefully going forward, Miss Galinda. I’m sure you have questions for her, as do we all, but her constitution may be fragile and we don’t want to overwhelm her.” 

“I won’t,” Galinda replied. She felt her cheeks turn red as she realized that Madame Morrible thought she would hurt her aunt, or at the very least aggravate her recovery. 

“Very well,” Madame Morrible sighed. “Why don’t you and Miss Elphaba get a few hours of sleep, at the very least? She’ll still be here when you get back.”

“Yes, Madame Morrible,” Elphaba said before Galinda could protest, grabbing her wrist and tugging her out of the room. But she didn’t start walking back towards the girls’ dormitories. Instead, she headed down the stairwell towards a door that led outside. 

The night was clear and cool, their feet crunching on the path that led to the Animal professors’ cottages. Technically they weren’t supposed to be out after curfew, but Galinda was sure no one would stop her tonight—not when everyone, students and teachers alike, would know by morning that her aunt had as good as returned from the dead. The night air felt cool against her skin. It was easier to think here, away from the harsh lights of the infirmary and the smell of disinfectant. The vise that had clamped tight around her heart the moment she made eye contact with her aunt at the Ozdust began to loosen a little bit. In a day or so they would be able to talk to each other. Then she would be able to get answers. 

“Don’t you think it’s strange that the Animal professors don’t live in the main Shiz buildings like the rest of the professors?” Elphaba asked. 

“I don’t know.” Galinda had never really thought about it, but they had been walking for quite a long time. Dr. Dillamond must have a miserable time getting back from his classes when it rained. “But they’re Animals. Maybe they have…different needs.” 

“What do you mean?” Elphaba asked. 

“Well, they have hooves sometimes. And wings.” 

“And why would that prevent them from being able to live in the school buildings?” There was a sharp edge to her voice, one that Galinda hadn’t heard since their very first days at school. 

“...I don’t know. Elphaba, I wasn’t trying to offend you.” 

Elphaba sighed. “I know. It’s been a long night. Let’s just keep going.” They walked the rest of the way to Dr. Dillamond’s cottage in silence. 

The cottage was peaceful, nestled between two trees. It looked cozy, albeit a little run down. Judging by the wear and the architectural style, it was at least fifty years old and clearly hadn't been updated since. Wind chimes hung from the front porch, hanging silently in the windless night. There was a bench on the front porch, covered in soft red cushions. The lights were off in the dark front windows, as Elphaba walked up the stone steps and rapped on the door. “Dr. Dillamond?” she called. “It’s Elphaba and Galinda. We need to talk to you.” 

For a moment they waited in silence. Elphaba had just raised her hand to knock again when the door opened. Dr. Dillamond was wearing a white nightshirt and a matching nightcap, with a gray and gold Shiz tassel at the end. “Miss Elphaba, Miss Gli-i-inda? What are you doing here? It’s quite late, you know.” 

“We came from Shiz.” Elphaba’s voice became even and measured, like she was talking to a frightened child. “Amaryllis Arduenna appeared at the Ozdust. She found Galinda and she told us to find you.” 

For a moment, Dr. Dillamond froze. He was so still that Galinda wasn’t sure he was breathing. “Miss Elphaba, if this is a joke then it’s a very cruel one. You know that—” 

“Amaryllis Arduenna disappeared twenty years ago, yes. But she was at the Ozdust tonight. She’s at Shiz now, in the infirmary. We’ve seen her. We thought that you would want to know that she asked about you.” 

Dr. Dillamond was still so quiet, as still as a statue. Finally he said “Give me a minute, please,” and went back inside. He emerged a couple of minutes later in one of his usual cardigans, sans his nightcap. 

As they walked back to Shiz, Elphaba told him about everything that had happened at the Ozdust, the silent boat ride across the lake, what Madame Morrible had told them in the infirmary. Galinda wanted to ask Dr. Dillamond if he had any idea where her aunt could have been for the last two decades, but she knew it would be useless. He was clearly just as surprised as they were, if not more so, to hear that Amaryllis was alive. Wherever she had been hiding, he hadn’t known anything about it. 

The castle was still and silent when they got back. The sky over the poppy fields had begun to turn gray as the first light of dawn struggled through. Their footsteps echoed through the empty hallways as they made their way to the infirmary. When they arrived, the night nurse was humming to herself as she mixed potions near a sink in the corner. Madame Morrible was sitting in the chair that Elphaba had vacated, reading a book. She raised an eyebrow in surprise when she saw them. “Dr. Dillamond,” she said. “What are you doing here?” 

“Madame Morrible.” Dr. Dillamond inclined his head slightly. “I heard that Amaryllis Arduenna has been found. I wanted to see her.” 

“I know the two of you were close when you were at Shiz,” Madame Morrible said. Her gaze flicked over to Galinda and Elphaba. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to see her just now. Wherever Ms. Arduenna has been, she clearly had to make an arduous journey to get here, and she is much the worse for wear.” 

“I understand,” Dr. Dillamond said. “I'm willing to wait. I’m sure you can imagine how the news came as a shock.” 

“Yes, I believe I can,” Madame Morrible said. “Though I must say, I am a bit surprised. With how close you were, I always assumed she might have told you something about where she disappeared to.”

“Nothing at all. I presumed her dead, just as you did. Just as all of Oz did.” Dr. Dillamond cleared his throat. "There were things Amaryllis didn't tell me, just as she didn't tell anyone else.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. “Girls, it’s late,” Madame Morrible said, without taking her eyes off of Dr. Dillamond. He stared back at her, with a look that Galinda couldn’t quite discern in his eyes. “I’m afraid I must insist that you both get some sleep, rather than traipsing around school property in the middle of the night”. Her voice softened slightly. “Miss Galinda, if you wish to sit with your aunt tomorrow. I can’t stop you. But I must insist that you get some rest first. You too, Miss Elphaba. You’ve both had a very long night.” 

They made their way back to their room in silence. When Galinda looked in the mirror above the vanity she was almost surprised to see that she was still wearing her Ozdust dress. It seemed like an eternity had passed since she and Elphaba had whirled across the dance floor. Galinda hardly felt like the same person. She’d still thought she was the only Upland in the world then, and now she wasn’t. 

Her mind was still racing after she and Elphaba had taken turns changing and getting ready for bed. Galinda stared up at the ceiling, watching the light of her soft pink lamp dance in the corners of the room. Where had her aunt been all this time? Surely she’d heard that the Uplands were dead. Perhaps she hadn’t felt willing or able to raise Galinda, but why hadn’t she at least reached out? Why hadn’t she told her that she still had some family left? 

Galinda remembered the blood on her dress and the dirt smeared across her cheek. Perhaps Amaryllis had wanted to tell her, but she hadn’t been able to. 

“How are you feeling?” Elphaba whispered. 

“Like I couldn’t possibly sleep,” Galinda sighed. “I have so many questions.” 

“And I’m sure your aunt will want to answer them all.” 

“Either she knew I existed but she chose not to ever visit and make contact…or she wanted to make contact, but someone didn’t let her.” Galinda wasn’t sure what would hurt more: knowing that someone had deprived her of a relationship with one of the only people who had really known her parents, or knowing that her aunt had never really wanted to get to know her at all. 

“Galinda, whatever happens, none of this was your fault. You have to know that.” Galinda nodded, but knowing something and internalizing it were very different things. 

“I need to talk to her. I need to know where she's been, and why she didn’t come to see me.”

"I understand." She watched Elphaba turn over onto her back, until she was looking up at the ceiling too.

Galinda felt suddenly inspired. “Thank you for staying with me, Elphie.” 

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “Elphie?” 

“It’s my nickname for you. I just came up with it. Do you like it?” 

“It’s a little perky—” 

“I’m going to call you that!” Galinda trilled, and was rewarded with one of Elphaba’s surprised smiles, like she couldn’t believe that Galinda had managed to make her laugh. “And you can call me Galinda.” 

Elphaba laughed. The sound made some of the pressure on Galinda’s chest ease and made her think, at least for that night, that everything would be all right. “That is your name.” 

“Let’s not quarrel,” Galinda replied. She didn’t want anything to ruin what had, for the most part, been a very good night. 

They were quiet for a moment. In spite of herself, Galinda could feel the late hour catching up to her. Sleep seeped into her bones, dragging her down. Her brain could only focus on fragments of images and sensations: Alix and Nessa laughing on the boat together, Elphaba’s hands around her waist, Amaryllis’s sharp eyes. The way that Elphaba had relaxed into Galinda when they embraced, like she trusted Galinda to share the weight of all the years where her appearance had provoked nothing but ridicule. 

“Friends stay with each other,” she heard Elphaba say, as she teetered on the edge of sleep. “And you’re the first friend I’ve ever had.” 

Galinda was too far gone to reply, although she felt the warmth of Elphaba’s words spread through her chest. 

Galinda spent most of the following day in the infirmary. She tried to work on an Architecture essay, but she kept glancing back at the closed curtain and watching for even the smallest sign of movement or noise from the other side. Elphaba sat with her, her Linguification textbook open on her lap. When Galinda and Elphaba had told them about what happened at breakfast, Nessa and Sarima had volunteered to take notes for them in their classes. The nurses mostly ignored them, but they didn’t tell them to leave. 

Just after lunch the doors opened and a group of boys hustled inside. They were all clustered around Avaric, who had blood streaming from his nose. He met Galinda’s eyes, just for a fraction of a second, and then looked away. 

“What in Oz happened?” the on duty nurse cried, hurrying over with a box of tissues. 

“We made a bet,” Avaric mumbled. “I got the worst of it.” 

The nurse pulled him behind a curtain on the other side of the room, muttering under her breath about foolish young boys thinking they were invincible. The rest of his posse tried to follow them, but only two of them were allowed behind the curtain. The rest had to file out, dejected. Avaric and the nurse and his friends remained behind the curtain for about an hour. When they came back out his nose was bandaged and he was holding a bottle full of painkillers. He didn’t meet their eyes as he walked out. 

Dr. Dillamond visited on his lunch break and Madame Morrible came to sit with them after her office hours ended. The afternoon seemed to drag by. Every time Galinda glanced at the clock, only a few minutes seemed to have passed. She only managed to write a couple of paragraphs and then had to scribble most of them out. Her brain felt slow, sluggish. She couldn’t possibly think about anything other than her aunt, and the stories that she would be able to tell her. 

Finally, there was more noise from behind the curtain—rustling, the whispered voices of nurses, and then a voice that Galinda had only heard once but still recognized somehow, in the deepest and most desperate part of her heart. Madame Morrible stood, smoothing out her skirts, but Galinda moved faster. She hurried across the infirmary before anyone could stop her, yanking back the curtain. 

“Can you tell me your name?” one of the nurses was asking, her voice calm and sweet. 

“Amaryllis Elara Arduenna,” her aunt replied. Her voice was still slightly scratchy. The other nurse handed her a glass of water, and helped her drink it when her hands shook. 

“And your birth date?” Amaryllis told her. She was 44 years old, just like Galinda’s parents would have been. Galinda’s heart squeezed painfully and she thought about the box of letters tucked under her bed. She’d only read five of them; she found that she could only read one letter at a time, and only with Elphaba by her side. It was exhilarating to trace her mother’s handwriting and learn about their visit to friends on Lake Chorge, their shopping trips to Frottica, and the quiet nights they spent together as a family. But they made her sad and conflicted too. The letters made her imagine a world where her parents hadn’t died, where they could have raised her in Gillikin. And then those imaginings made her feel guilty, because she already had a father who’d raised her like his own daughter and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. She’d written him a letter about what had happened earlier that morning, so she could ensure it made the morning post. Amaryllis had worked for him once; no doubt he would be happy to know that she’d returned too. 

Then Amaryllis’s dark eyes, so familiar to Galinda, fell on her. “Galinda,” she whispered, like Galinda’s name was something precious and pure, something that should be treasured. 

“Auntie,” Galinda replied, the word strange and heavy in her throat. “Is it really you?” The evidence was undeniable and yet she found that she couldn’t quite trust it. There was a part of her that still thought this was all some wild dream and Amaryllis would vanish as soon as she woke up. 

“Yes, darling,” Amaryllis replied. Her eyes were wet and shiny. “Oh, just look at you. You truly are your mother’s daughter. And your father’s too, of course, but Oz, you sound just like Larena.” 

Before she could think better of it, Galinda rushed to hug her. She ignored the nurse telling her to be careful and so did Amaryllis, who held her tight and stroked her fingers through her hair. Now Galinda could feel just how frail her aunt was; she seemed small, delicate almost. There were dark circles under her eyes and Galinda could see bruises on her forearms, just visible under her sleeves. Her stomach turned over. This close, it was impossible to ignore the fact that someone had hurt her. But Galinda didn’t want to bring it up; she didn’t want anything to ruin this one perfect moment, this piece of her past returning to her. 

She heard someone pull the curtain back. “Don’t crowd her, Miss Galinda,” Madame Morrible said. “Give her some space to breathe.” 

“It’s been twenty years,” Amaryllis replied. She didn’t loosen her grip. “I don’t mind if she crowds me.” When Galinda finally released her, she patted the mattress beside her. Galinda sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress, trying to analyze every single detail about this aunt she couldn’t remember: the dimple in the right side of her cheek, the crescent shaped scar just under her right ear, how one of her eyes was just a little higher than the other. “But you don’t look like you’ve aged a day, Madame Morrible.” Her voice was so neutral that Galinda couldn’t tell if the words were meant to be a compliment or an insult. 

“How flattering.” Madame Morrible pulled up a chair, ignoring the two nurses who looked like they thought visitors shouldn’t be allowed inside at all. She even managed to take a seat elegantly. Elphaba hovered a few steps behind her, unsure whether or not she should intrude. Galinda nodded at her and she went to stand next to Madame Morrible. “You all gave us a bit of a shock, Miss Arduenna. You’ve been missing for nearly twenty years. We were quite certain you were dead.” She gave Amaryllis a quick hug. Galinda didn’t think she’d ever seen Madame Morrible hug someone before. Father had said she wasn’t a “touchy feely” kind of person. 

A soft blush rose in Amaryllis’s cheeks. “It was…certainly not my intention to be gone so long. Or at all, really.” 

“I’m sure we’d all be very interested to hear where you’ve been.” 

Amaryllis gave her a half hearted smile. The right side of her mouth tilted up; the left side remained where it was. “And I wish I could tell you. But I’m afraid I can’t remember.” 

Madame Morrible stiffened. She looked shocked again, the way she had at the Ozdust. “What do you mean?” 

“Precisely that. I remember waking up in a forest almost two months ago, with no idea where I was or what had happened to me. I barely remembered who I was. I wandered for weeks, foraging for berries and drinking water where I could find it, waiting for my memories to return, searching for any hint of civilization. Eventually I found a kind family who took me in and gave me a square meal and directed me to the nearest city. That’s when I learned what happened to your parents, Galinda.” Her lips trembled, her face breaking with grief that looked raw and new. “I saw a photo of you on the front of Ozmopolitan. When I knew you were at Shiz, I knew that I had to find you. If something happened to your parents, they would have wanted me to look after you—” 

“I assure you that Miss Galinda has been well cared for in your…absence,” Madame Morrible replied. “She was adopted by the Wizard of Oz shortly after your brother and his wife passed.” 

Galinda thought the news would give Amaryllis some solace, at least. While she'd been gone Galinda had been loved and cared for and given everything she could possibly want. But the news only seemed to intensify Amaryllis’s grief. “I don’t understand,” she murmured. “Why would he…” 

“You know him,” Madame Morrible’s eyes narrowed slightly, like she was weighing each word Amaryllis said. “He’s quite sentimental. He heard about this poor baby girl who didn’t have any close living relatives and he had to ensure she grew up with a family.” 

“But she has a family,” Amaryllis whispered. “You can’t tell me that every Upland in Oz is dead.” 

“Of course not, but they had their own families. You could have taken Miss Galinda in if you had been present, but no one could contact you.” Amaryllis bit her lip, silent tears sliding down her cheek. “Are you sure you don’t know where you were for all that time?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea,” Amaryllis said. She looked away from Madame Morrible and turned to Galinda, squeezing her hand. “I came for you the moment I could. I never meant to abandon you. Do you understand that?” Her eyes were wide, almost desperate. “Your parents told me to take care of you if anything happened to them and I had every intention to. I never wanted to leave you, Galinda.” 

But Galinda’s mind was stuck on another part of her sentence. Your parents told me to take care of you if anything happened to them. Her parents had been 24 years old when they died, less than two full years out of Shiz. She didn’t know of many 24 year olds who had even considered the possibility of their own deaths, much less made plans in case of it.

Did her parents know they wouldn’t live to see 25? 

“What was the last thing you remember?” Galinda asked. 

Amaryllis’s eyes seemed to soften as she looked at her. “Seeing you. I’d spent the weekend at your parents’ house and I couldn't quite believe how well behaved you were. I’d always thought that babies were supposed to be noisy and obnoxious little things, but you weren’t like that at all. You were perfect, Galinda. Just perfect.” Her eyes moved to the foot of the bed and fell on Elphaba. If she was surprised by the sight of Elphaba’s verdigris, she didn’t say anything. “I saw you with my niece last night at the Ozdust.” 

“I’m Elphaba Thropp, Ms. Arduenna,” Elphaba said. “I’m Galinda’s roommate.” 

Her aunt laughed. “Call me Amaryllis. Please. I’m sure we’ll both be seeing a lot of each other. There’s no need to be so formal, don’t you think?” Elphaba nodded and gave her a smile that was soft but genuine. 

Galinda wished Madame Morrible would leave so she could ask questions more freely, but the sorceress seemed to be in no hurry to go anywhere. She spoke to the nurses about Amaryllis’s treatment plan (at least two more days on bed rest, probably intubated to replenish some of her lost nutrients) and then tried to shepherd Galinda out of the infirmary. “Miss Elphaba, why don’t you take her back to your dormitory?” Her voice was firm but polite. “I’m sure you both need to rest.” 

Elphaba froze where she was. “I’m not sure—” 

“I’m very comfortable here, Madame Morrible,” Galinda replied. Just the thought of leaving her aunt made her heart beat a little faster, like there was a part of her that still thought she would vanish the second Galinda was out of the room. 

Luckily, Sarima and Nessa arrived with the girls’ homework and wanted to introduce themselves to Amaryllis, so Madame Morrible couldn’t send them away. Sarima had taken notes for Galinda and Nessa had taken notes for Elphaba, except for Linguification, where Sarima had taken notes for both of them because Nessa had Painting. Sarima’s handwriting was even and easy to read; it was slightly neater than Elphaba’s, but didn’t have Galinda’s flourishes and curlicues. Amaryllis asked them all a lot of questions: where they were from, what they were studying, how Shiz had changed in the twenty years since she’d graduated. Madame Morrible couldn’t get a word in edgewise. 

Galinda tried to follow the conversation as best she could, but she found herself drinking in each of Amaryllis’s mannerisms: the way she laughed, the way she folded her arms across her chest when she was cold, the way her smile stretched slowly across her face instead of falling into place all at once. When she didn’t recognize a mannerism, she found herself wondering if her father had it too. 

Dr. Dillamond brought them all dinner, and Amaryllis lit up as soon as she saw him. “Desmond!” 

“Rill!” He stepped into her waiting arms and he seemed happier than Galinda had ever seen him. “Thank Oz you’re alive.” 

“I missed you,” she whispered into the fur on his back. 

“I missed you too,” he replied. And Galinda remembered that she wasn’t the only one who had lost something when her aunt disappeared. All of Amaryllis’s friends had lost something too. And now they all had, unexpectedly, gotten it back. 

Galinda could leave once she saw that Dr. Dillamond had things well in hand. It was starting to get late; the sun had long since set and Elphaba’s eyelids were starting to droop. Galinda’s own exhaustion rose and fell like waves; sometimes it threatened to drag her down, and sometimes she got another burst of energy as she remembered that her aunt was here, in the same room as her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Auntie,” she said, as Amaryllis pulled her into a hug. 

Amaryllis stroked her hair. Her grip was soft but firm, and Galinda wondered if this was what her mother’s hugs had felt like. “Sleep well, Galinda. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” It was as if she was telling the anxious part of Galinda, the part that couldn’t quite believe this was real, that she could believe it. 

Galinda and Elphaba got ready for bed in silence. It was even more comfortable than usual; Galinda felt that a new camaraderie had developed between them. There were some experiences that you simply couldn’t go through without bonding; apparently finding a long lost relative was one of them. “Thank you for staying,” Galinda said, as she took out her braids and brushed out her hair. It had helped to have someone else with her in the hours after the Ozdust, someone who knew to inform Dr. Dillamond and to ask Nessa and Sarima to take notes.

“Of course,” Elphaba said. “If our positions were reversed, you would have done the same thing.” 

Galinda switched off the overhead light, so the only light in the room came from her pink lamp. “Let’s tell something we’ve never told anyone else.” Elphaba sat down on her bed, looking over at her curiously. “When I was younger, I didn’t really believe my parents were dead.” Galinda waited for the shocked gasp or the derisive laugh, but Elphaba didn’t say anything. Her expression hadn’t changed. “I told myself that they had faked their own deaths because they wanted to go live somewhere else, without me. I told myself they’d wanted to forget they were ever my parents, because it meant that I could be angry at them. It felt easier to be angry than to grieve. And if I thought they were alive…then there was a chance that one day they’d change their minds and come back for me. I imagined that moment so many times. I knew I would be so angry with them at first and make them beg for my forgiveness…but eventually I’d forgive them and then they could come and live in the Emerald Palace and then I could have three parents.” She felt a warm heat on her cheeks. It felt even more ridiculous when she said it out loud. She had known what death meant since she was eight years old. She just hadn’t wanted to believe it. 

But Elphaba still wasn’t judging her. “It makes sense that you would imagine them alive,” she said. “I don’t think any child really wants to believe that their parents are dead. Sometimes when I was younger I would pretend my mother was alive too.” 

“You did?” Somehow, Elphaba had struck her as too serious for those kinds of childish games. 

Elphaba nodded. She was quiet for so long that Galinda thought that was all she was going to say. “Here’s my secret. My father hates me—” 

“No offense, Elphie, but I already knew that.” 

“But that isn’t the secret. He has a good reason for it.” 

Galinda couldn’t imagine what Elphaba could possibly have done that deserved near starvation.

“It’s my fault Mother is dead. It’s my fault the way Nessa is the way she is. When Mother was carrying Nessa, Father was worried she’d come out…green. Like me. He told me that he made her chew milkflowers, day and night. They made her tired and weak and Nessa came too soon, and her little legs…” Galinda gasped. “Mother never woke up.” 

“But that wasn’t your fault,” Galinda said, sure she was missing part of the story. Because Elphaba couldn't possibly believe her mother's death was her fault, could she? “That was the milkflowers’ fault, not yours.” 

“But if I hadn’t been green…” 

Elphaba still wouldn’t look at her. Galinda had to jump onto her bed and squeeze her hands. “You are a lovely shade of green. If your father doesn’t see that—if he was willing to resort to drastic, dangerous measures that endangered his wife and child—then he’s even more of a fool than I thought he was. But Elphaba, none of this is your fault. I can’t believe he would tell you otherwise.” She could practically feel herself shaking with rage. The more she learned about Elphaba’s childhood, the more the picture that formed made her angry. Well, ‘angry’ was putting it lightly. She was furious that anyone would treat their own child like that, for something she couldn’t control. Why couldn't Frexspar Thropp realize how lucky he was to have the chance to raise his children?

She could tell that Elphaba didn’t believe her, not yet. “Galinda, that’s kind of you to say, but—” 

“I’m not being kind, Elphaba. I’m simply telling the truth. I’ll say it as many times as it takes you to believe it,” she replied. Elphaba turned away, but not before Galinda saw the tears sparkling in her eyes, like no one had ever told her this before. Galinda wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned her head against her neck, trying not to notice how perfectly their bodies fit together. “It’s not your fault. It never was.” 

They stayed there for a long time, until Elphaba’s silent sobs drained away to hiccups and Galinda hoped that horrendible lie drained away with them.

Chapter Text

Galinda headed to the infirmary just after dawn, hoping to sneak in a quick visit with Amaryllis before breakfast. 

Her aunt was already awake, propped up on a mound of pillows and reading the newspaper. She was already looking better; there was more color in her cheeks and her eyes had lost their sheen of pain and fear. “Good morning, Auntie,” Galinda said, feeling suddenly shy. Her hands twisted together unconsciously. Whether she remembered it or not, Amaryllis must have thought about her in the twenty years that she’d been gone. She must have imagined what Galinda would look like, how she might act, what traits she might have inherited from her parents. What if Galinda didn’t live up to her expectations? 

She shook her head to try to clear it, knowing she was being ridiculous. Still, Galinda had known her aunt for less than two days and her opinion was already important to her. 

Amaryllis’s face creased into a smile as soon as she saw her, moving to the side of the bed so that Galinda could sit down next her and setting her newspaper on the nightstand. “Good morning, darling. Did you sleep well?” 

“Yes, of course.” It was a white lie. For the last couple of nights Galinda’s sleep had been fragmented. She awoke often to unfamiliar screams, imagining dark hands pulling Amaryllis into the darkness. She found herself spending every free  moment at her aunt’s bedside. She and Elphaba had taken to doing their homework in the infirmary, while Amaryllis shared stories about her childhood and her time at Shiz. Galinda had learned more about her parents in the last two days than she had known in twenty years. She had learned that Highmuster had an aversion to green vegetables just like she did, and that he’d had a dimple but only on the left side of his mouth. She’d learned that Larena snorted when she laughed, and that she had been roommates with Amaryllis. Highmuster liked to play sports and Larena liked to embroider, even though the Uplands were so rich that they had an entire staff devoted to making sure all of their clothing looked perfect. "Did you?"

“Perfectly well,” Amaryllis said, fiddling with a bandage that was just visible under the hem of her loose pajama shirt. She never mentioned her injuries, so Galinda was careful not to bring them up either. There was so much she wanted to learn about her aunt, and the things she remembered that no one else did. Galinda didn’t want to waste a single moment quarreling. “What does your schedule look like today?” 

Galinda told her. She’d already told Amaryllis about all of the subjects she was taking and her thoughts on her professors. Her aunt had listened in rapt attention, though she’d seemed slightly confused when Galinda told her that she was taking Sorcery Seminar. “I didn’t know that you’d inherited your mother’s magical talent,” she said, but she didn’t sound as excited as Galinda had assumed she would. In fact, she didn’t sound excited at all. 

“Oh, I haven’t. Madame Morrible wasn’t even going to let me into the seminar at all, but she thought it would be helpful for Elphaba to have a companion. She says I’m quite hopeless at magic.” She tried to keep her voice light, so her aunt wouldn’t know how deeply that word wounded her, but she suspected Amaryllis knew anyway because she took her hand and squeezed it. 

“Magic isn’t an unalloyed good, darling,” she said. “I know for a fact that your mother would be relieved to know you won’t have to go through what she did.” 

Galinda felt chills creep down her spine. She thought about what Madame Morrible had said, that her mother might have brought on her own death because of her visions. “Auntie, was Momsie…” She hesitated on the word for a moment, but Amaryllis kept looking at her with those soft, gentle eyes until she found the courage to say it. “Was she crazy?” 

Her aunt’s brow furrowed. “Whyever would you think that, Galinda?” 

“Madame Morrible said she had visions of the future that tormented her.” 

Amaryllis was quiet for a long moment. “Your mother wasn’t crazy, Galinda. She saw things she couldn’t explain, yes. And sometimes those things frightened her. But she was just as sane as you or me.” 

“Did she see herself die?” 

Amaryllis was very, very quiet. “Not exactly,” she finally said. “But she did see something…distressifying." There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "She wanted so badly to change the future that she wasn't afraid to play with fire—” The door to the infirmary opened and she immediately stopped talking. Galinda quickly jumped to her feet.

Miss Coddle bustled in, her hands full of paperwork. “Miss Amaryllis!” she said brightly, before nodding at Galinda. “Your Ozness.” Galinda blushed. She was quite sure she'd told the Head Shizstress not to use her title at least twice.

Amaryllis pursed her lips. “Good morning, Head Shizstress.” 

“It is so good to finally be able to meet you again in person. Miss Galinda, your aunt was one of Shiz’s most accomplished students.” Miss Coddle held out a hand for her to shake. Amaryllis took it delicately. “I must say, you’ve aged very well. What product have you been using to get your skin that smooth? And you have hardly any wrinkles—”

“I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you,” Amaryllis said tightly. “I don’t remember.” 

Miss Coddle’s smile dropped, just for a moment, but she recovered quickly. “Well, I’m sure it will all come back to you in time. Or perhaps Madame Morrible can help you. She is one of the most accomplished sorceresses in Oz, after all.” 

When she heard Madame Morrible’s name, Amaryllis flinched. It was a tiny movement, so small that Galinda wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t been watching her aunt so carefully. “Yes, perhaps she can help me.” 

“Now, I wanted to ask you how long you’re planning to stay here. You’re very welcome here, of course, but—”

“An excellent question, Miss Coddle, and one that I meant to discuss with you,” Amaryllis replied. “A couple of months before my…unexpected disappearance, you had extended an offer for a job as an Economics professor at Shiz. I wonder if that position, or a similar one, is still open. You know my qualifications, of course. I’ve already lost so much time with my niece. I don’t want to lose a single moment more. If she's here at Shiz, then I'd like to stay here too.”  

Miss Coddle’s lips pursed, just for a moment. “This is quite unexpected, Miss. Arduenna. Quite unexpected indeed. And our roster is rather full at the moment.” 

“That’s strange. Desmond Dillamond  was just telling me last night that you were searching for another professor in the History department.” 

Miss Coddle’s face had begun to turn rather puce. “We have been having difficulty filling the post this far into the semester, yes. But isn’t History slightly different from your own field?”

“I would be happy to take the position,” Amaryllis said, in a tone that didn’t allow for argument. “It has always been my firm belief that Economics and History are not as closely integrated as they should be. Those who control monetary policy tend to make history." She glanced at Galinda. "Desmond always thought that was a mercenary thing of looking at things.” She smirked, as if remembering some inside joke. “But I have always been quite a mercenary person, I think.” 

“I will look into it,” Miss Coddle said, clearly flustered. “The circumstances are quite extraordinary, but given your reputation as a scholar I am fairly confident we can come to some sort of arrangement. I do hope you recover well, and please do not hesitate to let me or the faculty know if you need anything else.” She left the room, her heels clicking against the stone floor. 

As soon as the door shut behind her, Amaryllis let out a soft huff of a laugh. “She was always faintly ridiculous, even when I was an undergraduate,” she said. 

“What did she mean by your reputation?” Galinda asked. 

Amaryllis waved a hand, like that wasn’t important. “When I was a graduate student I did my thesis on the history of the centralization of currency in Oz. It was quite influential, or so I’ve been told.” 

“You studied Economics?” 

“And monetary policy, yes. I’ve always had a head for numbers. My brother had the creative brain in the family. I was supposed to take over Father’s companies after he died. Father was very proud of me—once he got over the shock and horror of my having been born a girl.” She smiled wryly. “Of course, now the companies are in someone else’s hands. I’ve written a number of letters, but I doubt anyone will be willing to relinquish control, especially not to someone who dropped off the face of the planet for nearly two decades and can't remember why.” 

Galinda bit her lip. She looked at the closed door to the back room, where the nurses were mixing potions. She still lowered her voice, as if there was a chance it might carry. “Auntie, are you entirely sure you don’t know where you were all of this time? Because if there’s someone you’re afraid of, I’m positive Father could help you—” 

Her aunt’s smile faltered, just for a moment, the movement almost imperceptible. “Why do you think I’m lying to you, darling?” 

“I don’t think you are,” Galinda said quickly. “But it…seems like you were in danger. If not now, then you were in the past.” She tried not to look at the bruises on her aunt’s arms, just visible under the sleeves of her gown. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” I don’t want to lose you again. 

Amaryllis’s eyes softened. She wrapped an arm around Galinda’s waist, pulling her into her side. “I’m not going anywhere, darling. I’ll be as safe as houses here at Shiz.” 

Galinda wanted to ask her how she could possibly know that, but she was going to have to go down to breakfast in a few minutes and she didn’t want to waste any time on non answers. She leaned her head against Amaryllis’s shoulder, trying not to notice how bony it was, and let her eyes drift shut. For a moment she just savored the warmth of her aunt's skin and the soft smell of the rosewater perfume ordered from a perfumerie in the town of Shiz and enjoyed the feeling of being held by the only person who had known her when her parents were alive. 

There was a soft knock on the door and then Elphaba eased it open gently. She came to get Galinda every morning before breakfast, even though Galinda had told her numerous times that she didn’t have to. “I think that’s your cue,” Amaryllis said, patting her back as she waved to Elphaba. 

Galinda hugged her as tightly as she dared. Amaryllis seemed so fragile, like one too-hard squeeze might be enough to break her apart. “I’ll see you after class, Auntie. I love you.” 

“I love you too, darling,” Amaryllis replied, resting her fingertips on Galinda’s cheek for just a moment before she released her to Elphaba.

Parent’s Weekend arrived two weeks later: an all-weekend affair where the new Shiz students could show their parents around campus and invite them to meet their professors. There were events across the school, including sports games and tea parties and a formal banquet on Sunday night. Galinda hadn’t thought about it much because she knew Father wouldn’t be coming, though he had sent her an extra large care package. He rarely left the Emerald City for any reason these days; he said politics kept him too busy. And Amaryllis was still in the infirmary; the nurses said she could go out for a tour, but she was still too weak to attend the formal events.

“We can spend the weekend together,” Elphaba said, even though they would have spent the weekend together anyway. They were getting ready for bed about a week the night before the parents were slated to arrive; Elphaba was washing her face at the sink while Galinda combed out her long blonde hair at her vanity. 

Galinda worked through a particularly stubborn snarl just below her ear. “Your father isn’t coming either?” 

“Oh, he is. But he won’t want to spend time with me.” Elphaba stepped out of the bathroom, drops of water still glistening on her forehead. “He’s just here for Nessa. We’ll both be happier if we don’t have to interact.” They planned to have a picnic in the poppy fields, with a bottle of lavender lemonade Galinda had smuggled from the kitchens and a fresh box of cookies from Cafe Citrine. The weather had been lovely for the past few weeks: not too hot and not too cold, a pale blue sky arching high over the fields and the poppies nodding their downy heads in a light breeze. 

Galinda pursed her lips. She almost hoped she would get the chance to meet Frexspar Thropp, so she would have the opportunity to tell him exactly what she thought of him. 

The next morning Galinda and Elphaba watched from their balcony as the flotilla of boats bearing an army of excited parents approached the docks. The quad was crowded with students, all chattering excitedly. Galinda could see Nessa and Alix, who were near inseparable these days, waiting near the water's edge. They were talking with Fiyero and Sarima, who were holding hands. Their matching emerald rings caught the sunlight. Anyone looking at them would assume they were a happily engaged couple; as Galinda watched, Fiyero pressed a hand to Sarima’s lower back, as if to steady her. 

As Galinda watched the boats dock and the parents file off she wished, just for a moment, that there was someone down there waiting for her. But she shook the thought away quickly. She and Elphaba were going to have a fantastic weekend, no relatives required. 

Elphaba leaned over the side of the balcony and pointed to a short man wearing a neat black suit and a matching top hat. He had the immaculately styled facial hair that was all the rage in Munchkinland. “That’s my father,” she said. They both watched as he saw Nessa and his dark eyes lit up. He hugged Nessa, and then she introduced him to Alix. He seemed polite enough to Alix, though Elphaba said that was only because she came from another powerful Munchkin family. “Or perhaps he wouldn’t care where she came from, as long as she makes Nessa happy,” Elphaba mused. Galinda heard the silent implication that perhaps Elphaba herself didn’t mean to make: Elphaba’s own happiness didn’t matter to her father. 

Galinda was sending the Governor of Munchkinland silent glares while Nessa introduced him to Fiyero and Sarima when she saw a familiar green emerald top hat in the crowd. She leaned forward next to Elphaba, squinting slightly. The hat looked almost like…

Then the man looked up at her and smiled and Galinda gasped. “Father!” she cried, hurrying for the stairwell. 

Elphaba was close behind her. “This Wizard is here?” she asked breathlessly. 

But Father had never been the Wizard of Oz. Not to Galinda. 

She hurried down the stairwell and rushed into the courtyard, the crowd parting around her as she ran to him. “Why are you here?” she cried, as he swept her into his arms and spun her around like she was still a little girl. She giggled when her feet left the ground, just for a moment. 

“Can’t I come and see my daughter at her fancy school? I thought it would be a nice surprise,” he said. He was wearing his favorite green suit jacket, the one embroidered with poppies, and he wore the same golden pocketwatch he always wore around his neck. Even though he hadn't changed at all in the two months she'd been at Shiz, it still felt like it had been years since she’d seen him. “I missed you, kid,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. Galinda could practically feel everyone else’s eyes on him but for once she didn’t care. He had come here for her. 

“I missed you too,” she replied. 

Finally she forced herself to take a step back, seeing at least five dignitaries from Shiz bearing down on them. But Father slipped his arm through hers and turned away from them. “Never mind these stuffy old bureaucrats,” he said, lowering his voice so said stuffy old bureaucrats wouldn’t hear him. “Why don’t you give me the tour?”

“There’s someone I want you to meet first.” She gestured for Elphaba to come over. Elphaba had been hovering at the edge of the courtyard, ignoring everyone’s stares. Elphaba pointed at herself and raised an eyebrow. Galinda nodded quickly, beckoning her over. “Please don’t say anything about the—”

“Green? What green?” Father asked with a wink, as Elphaba joined them. “You must be Miss Elphaba,” he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. Elphaba opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but no words came out. Father kept talking; he was used to people being rendered speechless in his presence. He said that back where he was from, they called it being starstruck. “Galinda’s told me so much about you. Pages and pages of things about you, actually. All good things, of course.” Galinda blushed. 

“It…it’s a pleasure to meet you, your Ozness,” Elphaba said, finally finding her voice again. Her cheeks had darkened, so it looked like she was blushing. She shook his hand, and he squeezed it firmly. 

“Any friend of my daughter's is a friend of mine," Father said, and Elphaba's blush deepened. "Your parents weren’t able to come this weekend?” 

“My mother is dead. My father came. He’s over there, saying hello to my younger sister, Nessarose.” She gestured in the direction of the docks. 

“Well, don’t let us keep you from him. I’m sure he must want to see you.” 

Elphaba’s blush deepened. “He’s here to see my sister. Not me.” 

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Father cleared his throat and said “Then you’ll just have to spend the weekend with us, won’t you?” 

“I couldn’t impose—” 

“You’re not imposing. The more the merrier, I always say. And I’m sure Galinda doesn’t mind?” 

Galinda shook her head quickly. “We were already planning on spending the weekend together.” 

“Good.” Father couldn’t abide child abuse or neglect. At least a quarter of their charitable spending each year went to orphanages and child welfare programs across Oz. He said that he wanted to help children in Oz in a way that he had never been able to help people in the world he came from, but Galinda had sometimes wondered if there was a personal element to it too. Father rarely shared anything about his past, and Galinda never pressed because the questions seemed to pain him. Maybe someone, a long time ago, had treated Father the way Governor Thropp treated Elphaba. “Now, do you girls want to give me the tour?” 

They showed him all around campus: the library, the dining hall, the courtyard where they had their sparring lessons, the art studio, the downstairs rooms where they studied after dinner because it had a beautiful view of the sunset over the town of Shiz in the distance. The tour took so long that by the time they were finished they had to go right to the welcome banquet. Elphaba wavered for a moment, looking torn between staying with them and sitting with her father and Nessa, so Galinda took her hand before she could even think about leaving. “This way,” she said, in a tone that brooked no argument. 

Father kept the conversation flowing during dinner, perhaps so Elphaba didn’t notice the not at all subtle stares that were being thrown in their direction. Clearly nobody else had expected the Wizard of Oz to show up at Parents Weekend either. “So Miss Elphaba, Galinda says you study History?” he asked. 

Elphaba cut her fish into smaller and smaller pieces. “Well, I do like History. But I’m not sure exactly what I’ll want to major in.” They weren’t required to declare majors until the end of their second year, which seemed an endless amount of time away. 

“And how’s the professor? Dr. Dillamond, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, he’s wonderful! His lectures are always so fascinating!” Galinda stared down at her plate. Always fascinating was perhaps a little generous. She glanced across the room at the faculty table. She didn’t see Dr. Dillamond, or Madame Morrible, for that matter. “In our last class we discussed all six Ozma regents.” She started to summarize the entire lecture, at some length. But if Father was bored, he didn’t show it. He seemed to listen intently and asked a lot of questions. 

Fiyero and Sarima were sitting a couple of tables over, next to a man and a woman that Galinda didn’t recognize. Sarima was looking away, so Galinda waved at Fiyero instead. But Fiyero looked away quickly. Galinda waved again, but by then it was obvious that he was ignoring her. Her brow furrowed.

Father followed her line of sight. “Friends of yours?” he asked. “They’re the transfer students from the Vinkus, right?” 

Galinda nodded. “Fiyero is a prince. Sarima’s his fiancee.” For a moment she wanted to tell Father that the marriage was arranged, because surely he would put a stop to it. But Sarima had practically begged her not to. And besides, Sarima and Fiyero had been getting along very well since the Ozdust. Galinda had caught them holding hands under the tables in the library a few times, and Fiyero sometimes wrapped an arm around Sarima’s shoulders in class. 

“Fiyero and Sarima. That’s right.” Father added a little more seasoning to his fish. “I met them in the Emerald City this summer. King Marilott Tigelaar had some business to conduct, and he brought his son with him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Father almost always told her when he was entertaining visitors. 

“I didn’t know they were coming to Shiz. Otherwise I would have introduced you.” Most Vinkans attended institutions of higher education in their own kingdom, like the Royal Winkie Academy. More of them were enrolling at Shiz, but there were still only a handful of Vinkan students—not many more than there had been when her parents attended. But they’d had a Vinkan friend too. Lidia Parkhurst, Galinda remembered. She’d also died tragically young, around the time her parents did. 

Elphaba was right. There certainly had been a number of sudden deaths that summer. 

“Have you ever been to Shiz before, your Ozness?” Elphaba asked. 

“Once. About twenty years ago,” Father replied. 

“You never told me that!” Galinda said. “I wouldn’t have given you a tour if I had known—” 

“It was a very good tour, Galinda,” he replied. “Really, I was only there for a couple of days. I barely remember it.” 

“What were you doing here?” Father left the Emerald Palace occasionally, but it was exceedingly rare. Galinda could count on one hand the number of times they’d traveled outside of the Emerald City together. She went to Gillikin every winter to spend a week with her second cousin and his family, but Father had never accompanied her. 

“Oh, just politics.” Father shrugged. “There were lots of boring meetings. I barely got to see the campus.” 

Galinda did the math in her head. Just about twenty years ago, her parents and aunt would have been students at Shiz. “Did you see my parents, or my aunt?” 

Father hesitated, just for a moment. “If I had, I wouldn’t have known,” he said. “There were lots of rich Gillikinese kids with blonde hair.” 

Galinda bit her lip. Of course he hadn’t seen her family. If he had, he would have said something a long time ago. Father had no reason to hide anything from her. She dragged a fork listlessly through her mashed potatoes.

She felt Elphaba squeeze her hand under the table. She sometimes had a frankly uncanny awareness of when Galinda wasn't feeling her best. Her fingertips were soft and warm, her fingernails scratching not unpleasantly against Galinda's wrist.

After a moment, Galinda squeezed back. 

//

Once the dessert plates had been whisked away, Galinda assumed that Father would want to retire to the suite that he’d been assigned and look over his papers. Instead, he asked if they could go see her aunt. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen her,” he said. “I’d like to pay my respects.” 

“You and everyone else.” The windowsills around Amaryllis’s bedside were crowded with vases of flowers and handwritten cards. The nurses had had to bring over an extra table to hold all of the gifts from her well wishers. 

Galinda had no idea her aunt had been so popular, though Madame Morrible said it wasn’t surprising. “The only thing that makes a young, rich, well spoken and desirable woman even more irresistible is a sudden disappearance,” she’d told Galinda during their last weekly chat. Their meetings had been shorter than normal for the last couple of weeks; she was always ushering Galinda out before Galinda had quite finished with her tea, saying that she had Emerald City business to attend to. 

When they entered the infirmary, Amaryllis was standing near the window, looking out at the golden towers of the city of Shiz in the distance. She was still wearing nondescript hospital pajamas since she was supposed to be intubated for two more days, but she had ordered a wardrobe of new clothes from the best boutiques in the city. They arrived daily in pink boxes and Galinda and Elphaba were in charge of moving them from the infirmary to Amaryllis’s new apartment in the faculty quarters. The rooms were small and smelled a little bit like boiled cabbage in the mornings, but the walls were made of polished blonde wood and there were plenty of windows to let in the soft autumn sunlight. Galinda had taken the liberty of moving some of the furniture around so they spent most of the day resting in puddles of sunlight. Her aunt often seemed cold, even when the sun was at its zenith. “Auntie, we brought a visitor!” 

Amaryllis turned sharply on her heel—maybe too sharply, because she stumbled and had to put a hand on the window sill to catch herself. Glinda hurried forward, but Dr. Dillamond was already standing next to her and he quickly shifted closer so that she could rest a hand on his back to steady herself. “Your Ozness. What a surprise,” she said, sinking into a hurried curtsey. 

Father waved her off. “There’s no need for formalities, Amaryllis. We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

There was a strange silence for a moment. Something flashed in her aunt’s eyes, but Glinda couldn’t tell exactly what it meant. “Yes, of course. Friends,” she finally replied. 

Elphaba looked confused, so Galinda dropped back to her side. Father seemed to have the situation well in hand. “My aunt worked at the Emerald Palace for a couple of months before she disappeared,” she explained. Elphaba nodded, but she didn’t say anything else.

Father took Amaryllis’s elbow and guided her over to the bed. Dr. Dillamond quickly moved aside. “Careful now. The nurses would have my head if you fainted on my watch.” 

“I doubt anyone could ever have your head, your Ozness,” Amaryllis replied. 

Father laughed. “You’re still as sharp as ever, I see.” Amaryllis sat down on the edge of her bed, carefully letting go of his arm and resting her hands in her lap. The hem of her shirt rode up, just for a moment, and Galinda could see the edge of an angry red scar on the side of her abdomen.  “So you really have no idea where you were all that time?” 

Amaryllis shook her head. “It’s all a blank,” she said, waving a hand airily. “Quite infuriating, as I’m sure you can imagine.” 

“Quite.” Father looked at her almost searchingly, like he suspected she might be lying. But why would her aunt want to lie to the Wizard of Oz, of all people? If someone had hurt her—and it seemed certain that someone had—there was no one better positioned to bring them to justice. “And you came here, as soon as you realized what had happened?” 

“Of course I did. I had to see my niece. I had only just learned that my brother and his wife were dead, you see. I had no idea what had happened to her.” 

“Then it must bring you some comfort to know that she’s been safe and cared for and loved all of this time.” Father held out his hand and Galinda took it obediently. He rubbed his fingers across her knuckles, the way he used to do when Galinda was younger and got nervous at state functions. I’m here, he seemed to say. There’s no need to worry. 

“Quite,” Amaryllis replied, her voice clipped. “Though I must admit that I was rather…surprised that you took it upon yourself to adopt her yourself. Since you're such a busy man.” 

“Not too busy for her. Every child deserves a family, Amaryllis. I’m sure we can both agree on that.” He cleared his throat. “I hear you’re going to be sticking around Shiz for a while.” 

“Indeed. I’ll be helping with the first year History seminar for a couple of months until I get back on my feet and then next semester I’ll teach some classes on my own. Miss Coddle has been most accommodating. I’ve missed so much time with Galinda. I don’t want to miss any more.” They were still looking at each other so intently, like they were having a whole other conversation that didn’t need words at all. 

“I’m glad to hear it. We wouldn’t want you disappearing on us again, now would we?” Father cleared his throat. “Well, we shouldn’t keep you. Come along, Galinda.” Galinda hugged her aunt good night, while Elphaba watched from the doorway. Amaryllis waved to her, but her smile seemed a little more subdued than it normally did. Dr. Dillamond didn’t say anything. 

Father went over their itinerary for the next day before they parted ways at the end of the corridor, where the girls would go to their dormitories and he would go over to the administration building. Before he left he hugged Galinda one more time and shook Elphaba’s hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Elphaba,” he said. “Any friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine.” 

Elphaba’s cheeks were still flushed when they got back to their dormitory. “He’s…nice,” she said, once she’d closed the door behind them and Galinda went to draw the curtains. 

Galinda laughed. “Did you think he wouldn’t be?” 

“Not exactly, but he’s the Wizard of Oz. I thought he’d be…colder.” 

“He loves meeting new people, especially my friends. And now he’s going to expect you to come to the tea party tomorrow, so don’t even think of hiding away with a book.” Elphaba smirked. “We’re going to have a great weekend, Elphaba. You’ll see.” 

Elphaba began to take down her braids down from their ponytail, while Galinda washed her face and took off her makeup. For a while they worked in silence, until Elphaba spoke again. “Did you think there was something…odd about how the Wizard talked to your aunt?” 

“Odd how?” Galinda asked, shuddering when the cool face cream touched her flushed her skin. 

“They were very…cordial with each other.”

Galinda shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t know him very well when she worked at the Palace.” 

“You're probably right,” Elphaba said, lying down in her bed and pulling the duvet up over her. She turned off her bedside lamp with a soft click, so the room was bathed in the pink light from Galinda's bedside lamp. “Good night, Galinda." After a moment she added "And thank you.” 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Galinda said. "What are friends for?" They certainly didn't leave the other one stranded during Parents Weekend.

Galinda got ready for bed in silence, poring over Father's conversation with Amaryllis. Was Elphaba right? Had things been awkward between them? Galinda found she couldn’t remember. Or maybe she just hadn't been paying that much attention. It had already been such a long and exciting day. 

She resolved to pay more attention for the rest of the weekend. Father and Amaryllis were two of the most important people in her life. It would make things so much easier if they were able to get along.

Chapter Text

Galinda found the note slipped under her door on Monday morning, a few hours before all of the parents were supposed to leave: Meet me at the poppies after breakfast, written in Father’s spiky handwriting. 

She got ready quickly, careful not to wake Elphaba, and hurried down the back stairwell. It was a beautiful morning, the whole world seeming to shimmer in the early morning sunlight. Dew still sparkled in the gardens as the rising sun burnt off the last of the night’s rain and everything was wonderfully quiet. The weekend had been a whirlwind of parties and social gatherings and meeting so many people that all of their faces had started to blend together in Galinda’s head. She suspected that more than a few members of the student body (and their parents) would sleep in late, nursing hangovers. There had been a ball the night before, complete with the country dancing that Father had brought over from his world. Galinda had been country dancing since she was old enough to stand on top of Father’s shoes but it had all been new for Elphaba. Galinda had enjoyed showing her where to stand and how to step and when to twirl, dancing dance after dance with her until they both collapsed in a giddy heap on her bed, not even bothering to change out of their gowns. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun in my entire life,” Elphaba had said, staring up at the ceiling, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. 

“Me neither,” Galinda replied. She could still hear the swirl of laughter from the other party guests, could still see the worn wooden floorboards bend under her feet, could still feel the warmth of Elphaba’s hands in hers. She knew every dance by heart, but somehow dancing with Elphaba had made it all feel new again. 

Everything was more fun, she was starting to realize, when she did it with Elphaba. 

They’d taken turns getting ready for bed and then talked until they fell asleep. Elphaba had asked her about the Emerald City parties she attended and Galinda had no end of stories. She told her about the party with the fountain that sprayed liquid chocolate and the society hostess who had coated the floor of her ballroom in flowers. She told her about the costume balls where some guests spent thousands of dollars on an outfit they would only wear once and the tables groaned with the immense amount of food that private chefs cooked up in the gigantic kitchens of the immense mansions that lined the streets of the fashionable areas of the Emerald City. 

“It all sounds so wasteful,” Elphaba said.

 Galinda thought about her wardrobe full of beautiful dresses, her dancing slippers that had been worn through. “It probably is. But it’s also lots of fun. You should come to a ball sometime.”

Elphaba laughed. “As if anyone would invite me.” 

Galinda propped herself up on her elbow. They were closer than she’d realized, so close that she could feel Elphaba’s warm breath on her collarbone. They were so close that if she leaned over, just a little bit, they would practically be kissing. Galinda could almost imagine it: how soft Elphaba’s lips would feel against hers, how her long eyelashes would flutter (Elphaba had the most beautiful eyelashes, and she didn’t even have to wear mascara!), how she would moan in the back of her throat in a way that would set each one of Galinda’s nerve endings on fire. “I’d invite you,” she said. “In fact, I already have. Father always throws a Lurlinemas ball and I’m always allowed to bring guests.” She’d just never had someone to invite before. There were rarely new additions to her social circle and when there were they were carefully controlled. 

She’d thought that Elphaba would be ecstatic at the prospect of going to the Emerald City, but instead she was quiet for so long that Galinda thought she had fallen asleep. “Are you sure?” Elphaba asked, her voice soft and unsure. 

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t have invited you if I wasn’t.” She was already getting excited just thinking about buying Elphaba a dress from one of the ateliers in the Emerald City, of clasping her hand in hers as she spun her around the dance floor. “It’s going to be so much fun, Elphie!”

But Elphaba was still hesitant. “I don’t want to cause a stir. For all of the Emerald City’s wonders, I’m sure they’ve never seen a green person before.” 

And Galinda suddenly realized what was wrong. “Oh, Elphie.” She scooted closer to her almost instinctively, until their shoulders touched. “No one is going to make fun of you. They wouldn’t dare. Not if they know that you’re my friend. And I really, really want you to come.” 

“Are you sure?” The note of disbelief in Elphaba’s voice tore at her heart. 

“Positive,” Galinda said, resting her fingertips against her cheek, tracing Elphaba’s freckles like a constellation that she didn’t even know she’d memorized. 

“Then how can I refuse?” Elphaba’s smile was still a little tentative, like she thought the offer could be rescinded at any moment, but it was a start. 

 They’d made plans for the rest of the night—instead of going back to Munchkinland with Nessa at the end of term, Elphaba would take the train to the Emerald City with Galinda instead. Then Galinda would have more than two full weeks to show her around the Emerald City: her favorite shops, her favorite bakeries, her favorite parks…and probably a museum or library or two. Elphaba loved museums and libraries, and Galinda wouldn’t be a good hostess if she didn’t show her everything the city had to offer. 

“And you’re sure your…father won’t mind?” Elphaba had asked, just as Galinda was teetering on the edge of sleep. 

“Of course not,” Galinda had replied, her voice slurred slightly with sleep. “He likes you. He likes all of my friends.” Though she supposed that made sense, because he’d introduced her to most of them. 

She found Father waiting for her on the walking path that wound along the edge of the forest. He handed her a mug of coffee from one of the fancy coffeeshops in the town of Shiz itself, and she accepted it gratefully. “Did you sleep well?” he asked as they set off into the trees. It was quiet this early in the morning, with everyone still sleeping off the revels from the night before. They didn’t run across any students studying, or even any groundskeepers working on the neatly manicured grounds. 

She nodded. “Did you?” 

He shrugged. “I tried. The mattress is a little hard. It’s bad for my back.” 

“You should have told Miss Coddle. I’m sure she would have been more than happy to put you in a more comfortable room.” The Head Shizstress had been practically falling over herself trying to attend to his every need. Galinda could have told her it was no use. Father didn’t like hovering. 

“It was just for a couple of nights,” Father said. “And besides, it was never about the mattress. It was about coming to see you.” Galinda beamed. “The palace is quiet without you. At least now I know you’re having a great time with your roommate.” 

Just the thought of Elphaba made her blush and she wasn’t sure why. Galinda turned and looked out at the poppy fields, watching the flowers bend and dance in the wind. “And now I have my aunt too.” She still couldn’t quite believe it. Occasionally, when she couldn’t sleep and she stared up at the curved ceiling of her dorm room for so long that her vision went fuzzy at the corners, she entertained the dizziest of daydreams. If everyone had been wrong about Amaryllis’s death, what if they were wrong about her parents too? What if they were also alive and just hadn’t been able to come to her? What if Amaryllis knew where they were? 

She knew it was a ridiculous and fanciful notion, one that she was far too old to entertain. Her parents’ bodies had been found and buried; Amaryllis had disappeared without a trace. Galinda had read the coroner’s report. She’d read about how her grandmother had been able to identify the bodies from a crescent shaped birthmark on Larena’s back and a scar on Highmuster’s wrist from where he’d fallen off a horse as a child. They were dead and they weren’t coming back. But sometimes she couldn’t help hoping, even though she was old enough to know better. 

Father ran his fingertips through his hair, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. “I wanted to talk with you about her, actually.” Something about the way he said it made a pit start to form in Galinda’s stomach. “I’m certain there are things that Amaryllis hasn’t told you.” 

A shiver crawled down her spine, because Galinda had often felt the same way. She’d tried to convince herself that she was just overthinking, because her aunt had no reason to hide anything from her. “What do you mean?” 

Father sighed and they walked in silence for a minute so he could gather his thoughts. “Your aunt has always been determined to be right,” he finally said. “She’s never cared about who her actions might hurt. And they’ve certainly hurt people.” He looked away, but not before she saw real pain flash through his eyes. “I just don’t want them to hurt you too.” 

Galinda stopped walking, feeling her heart throw itself against her chest. “What are you talking about?” 

For a moment she thought Father wasn’t going to say anything else and he would leave her with a dozen questions she couldn’t answer. Instead, he said “Because of her, someone I cared about ended up dead.”

The sun seemed too bright suddenly. The wind was too cold on the back of her neck and her dress suddenly felt tight and restricting. “What?” She thought through all of the disparate things he’d said about her family over the years. She was sure she would have remembered if he’d said Amaryllis had killed someone. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

He shrugged. “It happened so long ago and you know I don’t like to dwell on the past.” But he still wasn’t looking at her. “I didn’t think I would ever have to tell you. Your aunt was gone and it seemed better to just…move on and put it all behind us.” 

“Put what behind us?” 

There was another long pause that made Galinda’s heart race. She was beginning to feel vaguely ill, though she couldn’t have said why.

Father sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, until it was hopelessly tousled. “Galinda, when I came here, from my world…” He seemed about to say something, then seemed to change his mind. “I didn’t come here alone.” 

Galinda couldn’t say anything for a minute. She couldn’t even think. She had never once heard of Father bringing someone else to Oz with him. “But…it’s always been us against the world.” 

“Yes, for the last almost-twenty years. But before that…well, I didn’t have much of a family, but—” 

“Your Ozness, Sir? Your packet of mail has arrived from the Emerald City.” 

Galinda could have screamed. One of Miss Coddle’s secretaries was striding up to the tree line, holding a pile of papers in her hands, and the moment was completely and irrevocably ruined. 

“Thank you, Layla,” Father said, taking the papers from her. 

“It’s Lavinia, your Ozness.” The woman’s smile didn’t dim even a fraction. 

“Lavinia, of course. My mistake.” Lavinia looked at them expectantly, waiting to escort them back to Shiz. Father flicked through some of the letters and sighed. “Galinda, there’s more trouble with the guilds in Munchkinland. I’m going to have to read these over.” 

Galinda knew what that meant. He was going to have to cut their conversation short, even though she still had so many questions. “Who did you bring with you?” she asked as they fell in step behind Lavinia, waiting until she was far enough ahead of them that they could talk without being overheard. 

“We’ll talk about it when you come home for Lurlinemas. It’s only a month away—” 

She stopped and forced him to stop too, since he’d slipped his arm through hers. “You can’t just say something like that and not say anything else, especially when it has to do with my aunt!” 

Father looked at her, looked down at the papers in his hands, and then looked at Lavinia’s retreating figure. “I have—no, I had—a niece. She came to Oz with me. She was about the same age as your parents. Your aunt poisoned her, and then she skipped town before she could face justice.” 

There was a long, horrible silence. Galinda wasn’t sure she was breathing. 

“You want to know the worst part?” Father asked, paging through the pile of envelopes. His hands were trembling slightly. “They were friends. They were all her friends, and then they killed her.” 

Galinda felt the pieces clicking together, but she didn’t understand the picture they made. “Then why wasn’t she arrested as soon as she arrived at Shiz?” 

“I needed to give my lawyers time to build a case. But rest assured, once everything is in order she’ll be arrested. Why do you think she was able to find a job here so quickly? If she wants to stay, to lull herself into a false state of complacency, I’m happy to let her. It’ll make the Emerald Guard’s job easier, when the time comes.” Father squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Galinda. I know how excited you must have been to meet her, and I’ve seen how much you care about her. I just wish you had an aunt who deserved it.”

//

Galinda wasn’t entirely sure how she found her way back to her dormitory. She dropped Father off at his guest suite and then she lost track of time for a while. Her thoughts turned over on each other in long, winding loops that didn’t make any sense. There were too many things she didn’t know, and what she had learned was damning enough. 

Elphaba was sitting at her desk working on their Biology essay that was due later in the week. She looked up when Galinda stepped inside and somehow she seemed to be able to tell from just that one look that something was very, very wrong. She stood, her pen clattering to her desk. “Galinda? What is it?” She took Galinda’s hands and led her over to her bed. Galinda didn’t realize until she sat down just how badly her hands were shaking. She tried to say something, anything, but the words didn’t come. Elphaba’s brow furrowed. “Stay right there. I’m going to get you some water.” 

Galinda’s hands tightened around hers instinctively. “Please don’t go,” she found herself saying. Her voice was rough and her throat was scratchy, like she’d been screaming. 

Elphaba listened to her, but her eyes were almost unbearably concerned. “What happened?” she asked. “Did you get hurt? Are you in trouble—” 

Galinda opened her mouth to say something reassuring, but instead she said “My aunt is a murderer.” 

Elphaba’s eyes widened. Clearly, whatever she’d been expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. Galinda supposed that was fair, because it was the very last thing she’d expected Father to tell her either. “What?” Somehow Galinda managed to relay everything that Father had told her, even though she could feel a lump rising in her throat to choke off her voice. “That’s it?” Elphaba said incredulously. “That’s all he told you?” 

“He was going to tell me more but Miss Coddle’s stupid secretary interrupted us.” Galinda hopped up from the bed and started to pace, as if she could somehow walk off the revelations. “He said that she was their friend and they killed her. Amaryllis is just one person. What if he meant that my parents were involved too?” Her chest felt tight and her face felt hot and her breathing was coming faster and faster. “Elphie, what if my parents are murderers? And what if Father knew that but he didn’t tell me, because the only thing worse than having dead parents is having dead parents that were also murderers—” 

Elphaba came to stand in front of her, putting her hands on Galinda’s shoulders, her touch anchoring her to the ground. Galinda was able to take one deep breath, then two. “We don’t have any evidence of that, Galinda. We don’t have any evidence of anything. We don’t even know this girl’s name.” 

“Father wouldn’t lie about that—” 

Elphaba took a step closer, her fingernails gently digging into Galinda’s sleeves to ground her. “I’m not saying he would. But if we know what her name is, we can find information. We can find out what happened to her and see whether or not your parents were involved. We don’t need to panic yet. Maybe Amaryllis can help us.”

“Oh, Oz.” Galinda had almost forgotten that she would need to talk to Amaryllis. What in Oz was she supposed to say? Good morning Auntie, I’m terribly sorry to bother you but I really need to ask if you murdered one of your friends? And did my parents know anything about it?

“Let’s focus on finding a name first,” Elphaba said. Her voice was still remarkably calm, given the circumstances. “We’re going to figure this out together. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. If Amaryllis really was guilty, why would she still be at Shiz? Surely she knows that the Wizard is planning to arrest her. She must think she has the evidence to prove her innocence.” 

“Unless she just doesn’t remember committing a murder.”

Elphaba’s brow furrowed. “I would imagine that would be hard to forget.” 

“But what if he’s right?” In all of the daydreams that Galinda had had about her parents, it had never occurred to her that they might not be good people, that they might just be putting on a front to the people who knew them best. “What if my parents were bad, and that makes me bad too?” 

She wasn’t expecting Elphaba to pull her into a hug, her grip tight but not suffocating, tucking Galinda’s head under her chin. “You’re not bad, Galinda. You couldn’t be.” 

And even though Galinda couldn’t entirely believe her, she couldn’t stop herself from relaxing into her touch. She buried her head in her shoulder and felt Elphaba’s hand on her back, steadying her. 

For a moment, she believed that there had just been a misunderstanding. She wanted to believe that everything would still be all right.

Father was busy with his correspondence for the rest of the morning. He said a hurried goodbye to Galinda at the docks, promising that he would tell her everything when she came back to the Emerald City for Lurlinemas. “I doubt Amaryllis would do anything to you because you’re her niece and blood is thicker than water, as they say, but I want you to tell me if she does anything suspicious,” he added. 

He was enthusiastic when Galinda asked if  Elphaba could spend the holidays with them. “The more the merrier,” he said, and Galinda wholeheartedly agreed. The Emerald Palace was far too big for just the two of them. 

Galinda didn’t visit her aunt for the next two days. She didn’t know what to say and she was afraid to ask the most obvious question, since she wasn’t sure what Amaryllis would answer. Instead she pretended she was busy with schoolwork, even as she couldn’t focus in any of her classes. Even Madame Morrible noticed that her attention was fraying, even though she usually didn’t pay much attention to Galinda during Sorcery Seminar. “Miss Galinda, have you been getting enough sleep?” she asked, after Galinda spent almost half the class staring out the window, trying to understand how her aunt who had been so kind to her could secretly be a murderer. 

Galinda forced herself to smile. “I’m just a bit tired today, Madame Morrible,” she replied. For a moment she wanted to tell her everything and ask what she was supposed to do now that she knew what she knew, but Elphaba had suggested they keep everything to themselves for the moment and Elphaba was nominally in charge of their investigation. 

Madame Morrible didn’t seem convinced, but luckily she didn’t push. When Galinda went to visit her aunt in the infirmary, she found she was no longer there. She’d been discharged earlier that morning and moved to her faculty apartments. 

The next day, Amaryllis gave her first guest lecture in History. Every desk was filled, though Galinda couldn’t imagine that most of the first year population at Shiz had suddenly decided they were interested in studying History. Everyone wanted to see what Amaryllis Arduenna, their professor who had practically come back to the dead, had to say. Galinda suspected some of them were hoping she would finally reveal where she had been all this time. By now, everyone knew that she was Galinda’s aunt and that she’d been missing for more than two decades. But they didn’t know, like Galinda did, that Amaryllis wouldn’t be sharing anything with them. Galinda was her own flesh and blood, and she certainly didn’t share anything with her. 

She desperately tried to hold onto what Elphaba had said. If Amaryllis really was a murderer, why would she have come back to Shiz at all? Why wouldn’t she still be on the run now? Unless she truly didn’t remember, but Galinda found that less and less likely as the days passed. Surely Amaryllis would at least have her suspicions, especially after seeing the Wizard again. 

“Settle down, everyone!” Dr. Dillamond said, and for once everyone listened. The only sounds in the room were the creak of old wood as someone shifted in their seat and the scratch of pens against parchment. “Thank you. As I’m sure you have heard, I will no longer be your sole History professor for the rest of the semester. Instead, I will share those duties with Professor Amaryllis Arduenna.” He gestured to her, and everyone clapped politely. “Professor Arduenna studied economics while she was at Shiz and authored an award winning thesis about the standardization of currency in Oz. She’s relatively new to the profession, so she’ll be working with me this semester until she learns the ropes. Does anyone have any questions?” Seven hands shot up. It was hard to tell because he was a Goat, but Galinda thought Dr. Dillamond rolled his eyes. “Any questions directly related to the class at hand?” All the hands came back down. “Professor Arduenna, they’re all yours.” 

“Thank you for that warm introduction, Dr. Dillamond.” Amaryllis said, writing her name on the chalkboard. She was wearing a pink pantsuit and sparkly pink heels that glittered in the dim light and she wore long sleeves, even though it was a hot day. Galinda had noticed that her aunt always wore long sleeves, even at night. “Good afternoon, students. You may call me Ms. Arduenna. I am very excited to meet you all. History is a subject that has long fascinated me—particularly the financial side of it. You see, I don’t believe that Math and the Humanities need to be, or even should be, kept separate. After all, if you follow where the money in Oz goes, you’ll be able to see exactly where true power lies.” She flipped the blackboard to an empty side. “For example, let’s take the city of Wittica in Gillikin in the years immediately before or after our wonderful Wizard came to power.” 

Dr. Dillamond muttered something that sounded like “Amaryllis,” but her aunt either didn’t hear him or ignored him. 

“Before the Wizard came, capital and investment were evenly distributed between the human residents of the town—between 60 and 65% of the total population—and the Animal residents.” Amaryllis put a chart under the projector that displayed the wealth of the city’s ten wealthiest residents. Six of them were human and four of them were Animals. “Wittica was also known for its uniquely harmonious human-Animal relationships at the time.” She passed around a couple of written testimonials from various town residents about the unprecedented peace between humans and Animals. “But now, Wittica’s Animals are some of the most impoverished in Oz.” She pulled up another chart. This one showed the wealth of the ten wealthiest residents of Wittica in the current day. There were no Animals represented. “The ones that are left, that is. Many left the city a long time ago. So what happened in the last twenty years? Why was there such a drastic wealth transfer between humans and Animals?” 

“Amaryllis,” Dr. Dillamond said, his voice slightly more pronounced, but Amaryllis ignored him. She flipped forward on the projector, stopping on a picture of the Yellow Brick Road. 

“Emerald City subsidies,” she answered. “Gillikin is known for its heavy industry and abundant natural resources for building projects. It partnered quite closely with the Emerald City for some of the Wizard’s early urbanization projects—the railroads, the expanded aquifers, the reconstruction of the Emerald Palace. But there was a strict stipulation on those subsidies: they could only go to companies owned or managed by Humans, not Animals.” 

Elphaba was sitting up straight in her desk next to Galinda, her pencil flying across the page. 

Amaryllis changed slides, revealing a copy of one of the contracts. There, in the section about subsidies, written in all upper case letters were the words Companies owned or managed by Animals will not be considered. “Within a year, the fortunes of the Animal community had already begun to decline. Because they were locked off of the most lucrative building sites, they were not able to take advantage of the new wave of prosperity the construction brought to Gillikin. The standard of living for almost all humans was raised, but we don’t see the same increase in the Animal communities.” Amaryllis flipped through more graphs and Galinda watched the gap between the human and Animal communities widen—in annual income, certainly, but less direct things too: the number of students accepted at Shiz, the number of deaths by preventable disease, the number of children exposed to unacceptable levels of dangerous chemicals. “As the Animals found it harder to make ends meet, and as their poverty became harder and harder to ignore, the good citizens of Wittica began to feel…uncomfortable. Most of them were afraid to speak up, for fear of losing the subsidies that had contributed to their new lifestyles: their new summer homes on Lake Chorge, their stables full of expensive horses, their children’s expensive private schools. People were doing better than ever, and if they could keep their creature comforts by looking the other way as others were…” She glanced at Dr. Dillamond apologetically. “Scapegoated, for lack of a better term…they would keep them. If it made them feel less uncomfortable to say that the Animals deserved their fates, that they simply weren’t trying hard enough to find new jobs and new sources of income, then they would. And the more they said it, the more they began to believe it. And once they believed it, they began to discriminate—both covertly and explicitly.” 

Amaryllis’s mountain of evidence was overwhelming. She drew on diary entries and surveys, police reports and governors’ memos, meeting minutes of government commissions called up to investigate the sudden uptick in poverty in the Animal community who ultimately decided that the Animals were lazy, even though there were empirically fewer jobs for them than there had been three years before. There were petitions to the Emerald City from despairing Animals who could no longer feed their children. There were threatening letters from Gillikinese notaries, claiming Animals should be seen and not heard. There were photographs. There were newspaper reports of harassment, stalking, murder. Galinda’s stomach turned. When she’d seen the words written on the whiteboard in blood red paint and Dr. Dillamond had nearly staggered into his desk, Glinda had known they were offensive. But now, witnessing the destruction of an Animal community through the detritus of papers left behind, she began to understand just how offensive those words were. 

“The real question is this,” Amaryllis said, turning back to the blackboard and writing a series of words: Did the Emerald City know? “Or was the destruction of the Animal community of Wittica the price that the Wizard was willing to pay for progress?" Silence grew in the room. For once, she didn’t rush to fill it. Her dark eyes blazed.

“I think that’s quite enough for one day,” Dr. Dillamond said. He pressed a couple of levers under his desk and the shades came off the windows, flooding the room with light. “I am sure the Wizard himself knew nothing about the Animal community of Wittica, or its plight.” 

“Does ignorance excuse negligence?” Amaryllis replied. None of the students spoke. They were all blinking around at each other, as if coming out of a dream. Galinda could feel her hands trembling under her desk. Her heart was racing, though she couldn’t quite understand why. 

“Class dismissed,” Dr. Dillamond said quickly. 

Avaric raised his hand, two rows from the back. “Professor, we were supposed to go over our essays at the end of the class.” 

“We’ll discuss your essays next time, Mr. Tenmeadows,” the professor replied. “Class dismissed,” he said a little bit louder, sweeping all of Amaryllis’s papers off the projector. “Amaryllis, see me.” Amaryllis rolled her eyes. 

By unspoken agreement Galinda and Elphaba took as long as possible to pack up their supplies, hoping to hear whatever argument was clearly brewing between Dr. Dillamond and Amaryllis. The students filed out, in ones and twos and larger clumps, all talking heatedly about the lesson. However, even when Elphaba and Galinda were the only students left in the room, no one spoke. Amaryllis gathered her papers together in a neat stack, her lips tightly pursed. Dr. Dillamond cleaned off the blackboard, scrubbing the words Did the Emerald City know? away until nothing remained, not even a smudge. 

Elphaba cleared her throat. “Dr. Dillamond, I had a question about last night’s reading—” 

“Come to office hours, Miss Elphaba,” Dr. Dillamond said, his voice clipped. “I’m a little busy right now.” Galinda realized he was shaking slightly too.

Elphaba glanced back at Galinda and shrugged, as if to say she’d tried. Admitting defeat, Galinda shouldered her bag. “Bye, Dr. Dillamond! Bye Auntie!” she called as she closed the door behind them. She made a show of walking down the hallway, making sure they would hear the echo of her heels—and then she snatched the heels off of her feet and raced silently back to the door, pressing her ear to the keyhole. Elphaba hurried to follow her, pressing in next to her. Galinda felt the warmth of their shoulders squeezed together and Elphaba’s soft breath against the back of her neck. 

“What in Oz was that?” Dr. Dillamond hissed, less than a minute after Galinda had closed the door. Galinda flinched a little bit. He didn’t just sound annoyed. He seemed truly angry. 

“What was what?” Amaryllis asked innocently. Galinda heard the shuffle of paper and the click of her heels. 

“You know what. Those were not the lesson notes you showed me last night.” 

“Of course they weren’t. I knew you would never have approved them.” 

“Because they’re dangerous, Amaryllis.” 

“They’re the truth,” her aunt snapped back. “You know that as well as I do. Those children deserve to know that too.” 

“You could get a visit from the Emerald Guard just for implying that the Wizard might have had something to do with it.” 

Amaryllis groaned. Galinda imagined her rolling her eyes, brushing her perfectly styled hair over one shoulder. Now that she was no longer hospitalized, her aunt always had perfectly styled hair, and she never seemed to have to go to the bathroom during the day to fix her part. If Galinda hadn’t loved her aunt, she would have found it infuriating. “I don’t care what the Wizard says or does.” 

“You should. More than anyone.” 

There was a moment’s pause. “He’s already taken everything from me. I hardly see what else he can take.” 

“Your life,” Dr. Dillamond hissed. He lowered his voice, so that Galinda had to strain to hear it. “It’s a miracle you’re alive at all, Rill.” 

Amaryllis scoffed. “Please. We both know luck has nothing to do with it.” 

There was an uncomfortable silence. “Well, if you’re bound and determined to throw your life away, I wish you would have thought about how your little stunt would affect me,” Dr. Dillamond replied after a moment. 

“Affect you? You’re one of the most respected professors here.” 

“I was one of the most respected professors. Now, they’re looking for any excuse to get rid of me—and as of this afternoon, they have your seditious little presentation to pin on me.” 

“You had nothing to do with it.” 

Dr. Dillamond sighed. “Do you really think anyone will care, even if they believe that? Maybe you’re right and your fame can save you. But I don’t come from money, or a prestigious family. Every single thing I do is suspect—not just because of what I’ve said, or because of what we did, but because of who I am. Because of what I look like. I have tried so hard to tread the line between being truthful and being suicidally stupid, and today you rendered it all useless.”

Amaryllis sighed. “Desmond—” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dr. Dillamond said. “Tomorrow, maybe. Right now I need to do damage control—if that’s even possible. I’m sure your niece is telling Madame Morrible what happened as we speak and the Wizard will know about it by nightfall.” 

“Don’t bring Galinda into this.” 

Galinda flinched. She felt Elphie’s shoulders stiffen against hers. 

“It isn’t her fault. But he’s the one she trusts, Amaryllis. He’s the one who raised her.” 

“She’s not his child,” her aunt said with a surprising vehemence. 

“She’s as good as, right now.” There was a long, tense silence. “I’m not trying to be cruel, Amaryllis,” Dr. Dillamond added. “I’m trying to be realistic. And if you aren’t very, very careful you’re going to get us both disappeared. This time, neither of us are going to come back.” 

“Oh Desmond,” Amaryllis sighed. “We both know I’m on borrowed time. I might as well get the truth out while I can.” Galinda nearly didn’t hear them walking towards the door until Elphaba yanked her to her feet and pulled her down a side corridor. Her heart raced. Her aunt had implied that Father had either known about or encouraged the persecution of the Animals. Had she just been saying it to muddy the waters and possibly save her own skin? Galinda wanted to believe it, but she couldn’t. Not entirely. Something was nagging at her and she couldn’t quite tell what. 

Elphaba squeezed her hands. They were shaking slightly too. “We need to talk to your aunt,” she said. It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, just a statement of fact. “Tonight, if possible.” Galinda nodded bonelessly. At least someone else was taking charge, when her own head was spinning. 

It didn’t seem possible that Father and Amaryllis were both telling the truth. So who was lying to her, and why? 

Chapter Text

Galinda’s heart pounded as they walked to Amaryllis’s apartments later that night. Elphaba had taken her hand for moral support, but even the warmth of Elphaba’s skin against hers couldn't counteract the dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. There were a couple moments when she nearly turned and ran back down the hallway. She didn’t really need answers, did she? Not when they weren’t what she wanted to hear. 

But she knew if she didn’t at least ask Amaryllis, her thoughts would consume her. She would come to think the worst about her parents—and herself. At least Amaryllis could tell her if it was justified. 

Amaryllis opened the door as soon as they knocked. She didn’t seem particularly surprised to see them. “Come in, please,” she said, gesturing them over to the couch in the boxy drawing room. She seemed almost disheveled, her hair falling loose from its chignon and her shirt and skirt uncharacteristically wrinkled. There were dark circles under her eyes that couldn’t quite be hidden by her makeup and her eyes were dull. Papers were spread across her desk in the corner and her cheeks were red, like she’d recently been crying. 

Galinda sat down next to Elphaba, so close that she was practically sitting in her lap. Amaryllis took the wing backed chair across from them, closest to the fire, crossing one leg over her knee and folding her hands in her lap. For a moment there was an uncomfortable silence. Amaryllis sighed, massaging her forehead like she could feel a headache coming on. “What did the Wizard tell you? I assume that’s why you’ve been keeping your distance.” She sounded tired. No, more than tired; she sounded utterly exhausted, like her very soul was weary. Galinda wanted to feel sorry for her. She wanted to hug her and tell her that everything would be all right. But she couldn’t, not when Father’s words were still ringing in her head: Because of her, someone I loved ended up dead. 

“He told me that you killed someone.” Amaryllis flinched, and Galinda had to fight the urge to scream at her. She’d trusted her aunt, had loved her nearly as soon as she saw her, had dared to think that she might have gotten back a piece of her past. Instead, it felt like she had lost something that was even more important: her belief that her parents were good people, her reassurance that they didn’t deserve to die. She was beginning to wish that she’d never met Amaryllis at all, that Amaryllis had stayed wherever she was instead of resurfacing only to pull her life into chaos. 

But Amaryllis didn’t say anything, and that only made Galinda more angry. “Well?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice even. “Did you?” 

“Galinda…” Amaryllis trailed off, twisting her hands together in her lap. 

“It’s a simple question!” she cried. “Yes or no?” 

Amaryllis closed her eyes and Galinda’s heart shattered. “I never, ever meant to hurt her. I would never kill her—” 

“But did you poison her?” 

Her silence was damning. Galinda squeezed Elphaba’s hand until her fingernails carved sharp white crescents into green skin. Elphaba didn’t protest. “Yes. I suppose I did. I must have.” And then Amaryllis laid her head in her lap and began to sob. Not pretty fake tears designed to incite Galinda’s pity, but huge wracking sobs that seemed to shake her entire body. Tears steamed down her cheeks, utterly ruining her mascara. “And believe me, Galinda, not a day goes by when I don’t hate myself for it.” 

“Did my parents know?” Galinda asked, her voice sharp and cold. There was another long and damning silence. “Did my parents know you were going to kill someone?” 

“We never meant to kill her!” Amaryllis cried, which wasn’t quite the same thing. “Victoria was our friend. We would never, ever hurt her.” She didn’t say they had never meant to kill anyone.

Galinda felt Elphaba stiffen slightly beside her. Now they finally had a name. “Victoria?” Elphaba asked. 

“Yes,” Amaryllis said, slumping down in her chair and burying her head in her hands like she couldn’t bring herself to look at either of them. “Didn’t the Wizard ever tell you about her? She was his niece, after all.” 

Galinda felt so cold she couldn’t feel her fingertips. “No. He never told me anything.” 

“Odd,” Amaryllis murmured. “They were always close. She was his sister’s child. He looked after her from the time she was ten, after her parents couldn't afford to take care of her.” 

“Why couldn't they afford to take care of her?” Elphaba asked. 

“There was something wrong with her lungs and she was in and out of hospitals for a while. Eventually her parents couldn’t afford the medical bills. They had five other children at home and they barely made anything as it was. Her mother wanted to make it work, but her father wouldn’t hear of it. The Wizard—well, he wasn’t the Wizard then, of course—wasn’t much better off. But he loved his nieces and nephews and said he’d be happy to help out. It was supposed to be a temporary thing, but Victoria ended up staying with him.”

Galinda couldn’t take any of it in. Father had only told her about bits and pieces of his life before he came to Oz. He'd never told her anything like this: a sister, nieces and nephews, money troubles and health issues. He’d always made it seem like his life had really only begun when he adopted Galinda and he’d never once missed his homeland because he’d had nothing to leave behind. 

“You knew her,” Elphaba said. It wasn’t a question, really, just a soft pry for information. 

Amaryllis nodded. “She enrolled at Shiz when we were in our third year. She took all of the same classes we did. She said I was the first friend she’d ever made, but she was closest with your parents. They were inseparable.” 

“But then she died,” Galinda said. “And you were responsible?” She would give Amaryllis one more chance to make this right, one more chance to say there had been a misunderstanding and of course she and Galinda’s parents would never hurt anyone, especially a close friend.

“I don’t know. Perhaps. My memories of that night are…” Amaryllis bit her lip. “Galinda, there’s a lot that I can’t tell you about what happened.” 

“Can’t or won't?" Galinda snapped.  

“Can’t. Believe me, I wish that I could tell you everything. I hate knowing what you must think about me, what you must think about your parents…” She squeezed her eyes shut and seemed to force back another round of sobs. “But I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you what happened that night.” 

“But you remember things. You were lying to me when you said you didn’t remember anything before the last couple of months!” 

“I was trying to keep you safe,” Amaryllis whispered. “Whatever you believe, Galinda, you have to know that. All that I have ever wanted to do, since the moment I…” She stopped talking so abruptly that Galinda could hear her teeth click shut. Then her entire body jerked and she nearly fell out of the chair. It wasn’t a natural movement, and from the look of pain that flashed across Amaryllis's face it wasn’t a planned one either. 

Elphaba jumped to her feet and hurried to Amaryllis’s side. Galinda's aunt seemed to be struggling to catch her breath, her eyes shut and each inhale and exhale coming in uneven pants. “How can I help?” she asked. “Professor Arduenna, would you like me to get a nurse?” 

Amaryllis shook her head, squeezing Elphaba’s hand. “I’m fine, darling. Thank you.” There were blotches of color growing on her cheeks and the back of her neck. “It’s just what happens when I skirt the lines of the…” There was another spasm, a harder one. She slipped out of her chair and landed hard on the floor, wincing and pressing a hand to her hip. “I wish I could lie. I wish I could tell you that I had nothing to do with what happened to Victoria. But I can tell you that I’ll never forgive myself for it.” 

“What did my parents know?” Galinda asked. 

“They never wanted to hurt her either—” 

“But it doesn’t matter what they wanted, does it? What matters is that they got someone killed. What matters is that they were trying to kill someone, even if she wasn’t the intended target. What matters is that my parents are murderers.” Galinda was practically shaking with rage. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so angry before. This was different from tearing her favorite dress or being told she couldn’t  go to a party or even sitting through another fruitless Sorcery Seminar where she couldn’t even levitate a coin. This was the wholesale destruction of everything that she had ever believed about her past. “Why did you have to come back? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away, instead of ruining my life?” Glass shattered on the other side of the room, one of the windowpanes cracking. A cold wind blew inside, pieces of broken glass dancing across the floor.

Amaryllis winced. “I’m trying to protect you, Galinda.” 

“From who?” 

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Well that’s very convenient, isn’t it?” 

“Galinda, I swear that if I could tell you everything right now, I would. I hate keeping secrets from you—” 

“Then tell me! Who were you and my parents trying to kill?” 

“I can’t tell you!” Amaryllis cried, before another shudder tore through her body and she cried out in pain, curling in on herself. Galinda felt a jolt of something that could have been pity, if she hadn’t been so angry. 

Elphaba knelt down beside Amaryllis and gasped. “Professor Arduenna, your back…” 

“I’m fine,” Amaryllis said, but Elphaba ignored her and gently eased her onto her side, her hands gentle and practiced. For the first time Galinda could see the smear of blood against the back of her aunt's light pink blouse. 

“Galinda, get me some towels,” Elphaba said. But Galinda froze for a moment, looking at the broken glass and the creeping blood stain on Amaryllis’s back, slowly spreading outwards like ink on a map. “Galinda!” Elphaba said again, with a harder edge to her voice. “I need towels. And a bucket of warm water.” 

Finally, Galinda jolted out of her reverie. She raced further into the apartment, passing the closed door to Amaryllis’s bedroom and the open door to her study until she reached the linen cabinet at the end of the hallway. She grabbed as many towels as she could hold at once, all embroidered with Shiz’s golden S, and then found a pail under the sink that she filled up with water, testing the temperature against her hand. As she worked, something occurred to her, something that made her heart stop. 

She hurried back in the drawing room so quickly the pail banged against her knees. “Were you trying to kill Father?” 

Amaryllis groaned. She hadn’t moved from her position on the floor, while Elphaba undid the complicated series of buttons that fastened the back of her blouse. “That man isn’t your father, Galinda.” 

“What would you know about it?” Galinda cried. “You’ve been gone for twenty years.” 

Amaryllis’s shirt brushed against her back and she winced. “No, we weren’t trying to kill the Wizard. We weren’t suicidal. We were just trying to help—” She spasmed again, her words devolving into a whimper of pain. 

“Stop talking,” Elphaba whispered as she worked the last button free. “Do you need me to get a nurse, Professor?” 

“No,” Amaryllis muttered, just as Elphaba let the shirt fall and she and Galinda both gasped in unison. 

There were symbols carved into Amaryllis’s back. They were red and scarred with age, but now they were bleeding anew, blood running in rivulets down her aunt’s back like tears. Galinda took a couple of steps closer so she could examine them. They were each a distinct mixture of lines and dots and dashes, marching in a line down Amaryllis’s spine, and they looked angry and painful. Galinda’s stomach roiled. “They almost look like—” 

“Runes,” Elphaba finished. Galinda had heard of runes being carved into the front doors or lintels of houses, to protect the inhabitants living inside. She’d heard of runes used in some of the older religions to offer up prayers for water during droughts or sunshine during monsoons. They were typically used for channeling magic through inanimate objects, but she’d never heard of runes carved into a human being. It seemed an almost unimaginable cruelty. 

Galinda took another stop closer, while Elphaba squeezed out one of the wet towels and placed it gently on Amaryllis’s back. Amaryllis gasped when the fabric first pressed against her broken skin, but then her eyes fluttered shut with a sigh of relief. “Who did this to you?” she asked, because this was very clearly not something that her aunt could do to herself. Not with the precision of each scar.

“I can’t tell you,” Amaryllis muttered, laying her head against the wooden floor. She seemed much more fragile now that she wasn’t standing in front of a blackboard lecturing about Animal oppression, filled with righteous indignation. Now Galinda could see just how bony her shoulders were, and the dulled pain in her eyes. “The runes heat up when I try.” 

Galinda knelt down next to Elphaba. “What can I do?” she asked. 

“We have to stop the bleeding,” Elphaba said, handing her another cloth. Galinda laid it gingerly against her aunt’s back. “Then we’ll bandage it. Professor, are you sure you don’t want me to get a nurse?” 

“Yes,” Amaryllis said softly. “There’s nothing they could do for me anyway. And they’ll tell…” she winced, clearly preparing for pain that didn’t come. “No one can know what happened here tonight,” she whispered. “You can hate me, Galinda. I understand. But I must beg you to not tell a single other soul about what happened tonight, for all of our sakes.” 

“But why?” Galinda asked. “If you’re in trouble, Father can help you—” 

But Amaryllis was already shaking his head. “He hates me. And he has a good reason for it, but…this isn’t something he can help me with.” 

“He’s planning on arresting you. He says he’s just building his case.” And Amaryllis had just admitted to her that she thought she’d killed Victoria. 

Amaryllis’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “I trust you, Galinda,” she murmured. “My fate is in your hands.” She didn’t open her eyes again, her breathing evening out into the rhythm of a troubled sleep. 

Elphaba and Galinda finished washing her back in silence. By the time they were done the runes had stopped bleeding, but Elphaba bandaged them regardless, using the supplies in the first aid kit that all of the faculty members had. Her movements were easy and practiced. 

“What are we going to do?” Galinda whispered. For a moment she thought she was going to cry, though she wasn’t sure why. 

“We’re going to put her to bed,” Elphaba said, her voice even and calm. Galinda didn’t know how she could possibly sound so calm after everything they’d seen and heard.“Her body has been under a lot of stress. She needs to rest.” 

Between the two of them, they managed to get Amaryllis to her feet and wrapped a towel around her to protect her modesty. She was still fragile, still too light. Elphaba probably could have managed her on her own, but Galinda found that she wanted to help too. Whatever Amaryllis had done that she could or couldn’t tell Galinda about, she was still Galinda’s aunt. Even if Galinda was absolutely livid with her.

Besides, the more mercenary part of Galinda thought, if they could find a way to break whatever spell her aunt was under then she could give them real answers. Even if the answers weren’t what Galinda wanted to hear.

In Amaryllis’s bedroom, Elphaba rummaged through the wardrobe until she found a pale pink nightdress edged in matching lace. Amaryllis murmured quietly in her sleep as they dressed her, laying her on her stomach so that she wouldn’t further irritate her back. Occasionally she said something that sounded like a name, but her voice was too quiet for Galinda to understand much. 

Finally, Elphaba pulled the sheet up over her. She left the duvet down, probably worried it would pull at Amaryllis’s back. They both watched her for a moment. Even in sleep, Amaryllis looked troubled. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pursed. For a moment, Galinda felt a stab of pity for her. Although she desperately hoped there was more to the story of Victoria’s death that Amaryllis wasn’t able to tell her, it was very clear that someone had hurt her. 

Galinda left the apartment with her head full of new questions. Who had Amaryllis been trying to kill and why? Why couldn't she be sure whether or not she'd hurt Victoria? Who had carved those runes into her back? Where had she been for the last twenty years? 

And, perhaps most importantly, what was she trying to tell her? 

A letter had been slipped under Galinda’s door the next morning, stamped with Madame Morrible’s crest. Madame Morrible had invited her to have tea with her that afternoon, after Sorcery Seminar. Galinda scoured the hallway, but she didn’t see a matching letter for Elphaba. 

She and Elphaba hadn’t spoken much the night before after they’d returned from the faculty apartments. Elphaba had simply said that they should go to the library after their classes the next day to research runes and whatever might have happened to Father’s niece. “You’re sure he never told you that he had one?” she’d asked Galinda as they got ready for bed. Galinda had been standing at the bathroom sink, three steps deep into her skincare routine, while Elphaba arranged her hair at the vanity. 

Galinda shook her head. She was sure she would have remembered if Father had told her about any of his relatives. She hadn’t even known he had a sister, much less nieces or nephews. 

“It’s strange,” Elphaba said. “Why haven’t we heard about her in any of the accounts of his coming to Oz?” Galinda didn’t have an answer. She couldn’t understand why Father hadn’t told her sooner, much less anyone else. He'd always told Galinda that she was his daughter in all the ways that mattered, so why hadn’t he told her about someone that was clearly so important to him? “I’ll look it up in the newspapers. The library has one of the finest newspaper archives in Oz. They have issues going back more than a century.” Galinda couldn’t help smiling at just how animated the prospect of a research project made Elphaba. “Your aunt gave us one piece of the puzzle—Victoria’s first name—but it will be easier to find information with a last name.” 

“Father’s last name is Diggs,” Galinda said. “Maybe hers is too?” Was, her brain corrected almost instinctively. “Unless her mother had a different last name.” 

“Diggs is as good a place as any to start,” Elphaba said, scribbling something down in her notebook. 

Galinda hovered in the bathroom doorway, watching her pen fly across the page. “You know, you don’t need to do all this,” she said. “Your parents aren’t the ones who may or may not have been murderers.” 

Elphaba looked up from her notebook. “I don’t mind. It’s sort of like doing a giant puzzle, except we’re missing lots of pieces and we don’t know what kind of picture they make when we put them all together.” 

But Galinda was beginning to think that whatever picture the pieces formed in the end, she wasn’t going to like it. 

She only half paid attention in her classes the next day. Amaryllis wasn’t in History; Dr. Dillamond said she’d caught a cold and wouldn’t be teaching for the next couple of days. Galinda thought about the angry red runes inked into her back, each of the lines carved with military precision. Her stomach turned. Whatever Amaryllis had done, had she really deserved that? 

She told Elphaba to head to the library after Sorcery Seminar and start looking at newspapers while she had tea with Morrible. After she put the kettle on, Madame Morrible arranged two chairs in front of the fireplace and dug a tin of biscuits out from under the counter. “Take a seat, Miss Galinda,” she said. “I've noticed you've been looking rather tired for the past couple of weeks. Are you sleeping well?” 

No. When Galinda tried, she fell in and out of fragmented dreams that she couldn’t remember when she woke up, but they left her drenched in sweat and breathing hard and pulling the duvet up over her head so she wouldn’t wake Elphaba. “I’m fine, Madame Morrible. Just a bit frazzled, with midterms coming up.” 

Madame Morrible chuckled. “I hardly see why you need to worry your pretty little head, dearie. After all, it doesn’t matter if you do well. Do you really think the Head Shizstress would ever fail the Princess of Oz?” Galinda managed a smile, but the words hurt. They were a reminder of something she’d always feared: that she wasn’t as talented or as smart or as good as she tried to be, but everyone was kind to her anyway because they pitied her. She was only loved and revered because the Wizard had adopted her, and that wouldn’t have happened if her parents hadn’t died. “You shouldn’t worry, dearie. It isn’t good for your complexion. And you look so thin. Have you been eating?” Galinda felt her cheeks heat as the sorceress sat down across from her. “I’m sure your father would want you home with him if he knew that you’d been running yourself ragged.” 

“I appreciate your concern, Madame Morrible, but I assure you I’m fine,” Galinda replied. “There’s no need to involve Father. I’m sure he’s quite busy enough as it is.” 

“You must know that he’s never too busy for you, Miss Galinda.” For a moment there was a touch of…something in Madame Morrible’s voice. Jealousy, maybe? It was gone before Galinda could be sure. 

Galinda took a biscuit to pacify her. “Forgive me, Madame Morrible, but was this all you wanted to talk to me about? Because I’m meeting a friend in the library—” 

Madame Morrible arched an eyebrow. “A friend? Are you seeing someone, Miss Galinda?” 

It took Galinda a moment to realize what she meant, and then her blush deepened. “Oh no. I’m just meeting Elphie. We aren’t seeing each other…like that.” They were just friends—and the very best of friends, at that. 

Galinda knew that. So why did she suddenly feel so disappointed? 

“Ah, I see. And I certainly don’t wish to keep you from your studies. But I wanted to ask about the lecture your aunt gave in History. I’ve heard from many students that it was quite…passionate.” 

“It was very…thoughtful,” Galinda said. She sensed she had to tread carefully here, even though she didn’t know exactly why she was protecting her aunt. Hadn’t she implicitly accused Father of being behind the oppression of the Animals?

Well, she hadn’t accused him as such. There were the subsidies that only went to companies headed by humans, but Father might not have known they were discriminatory. Animals didn’t speak in the world that he came from; why would he assume that they were construction workers here?

“That’s a kind word, Miss Galinda. From the descriptions I have heard from other students, perhaps ‘treasonous’ would be more apt. And Dr. Dillamond did nothing to stop it, did he?” 

Galinda’s stomach twisted. “It wasn't Dr. Dillamond’s fault! He had no idea it was going to happen. He sounded so angry after class, and—” She realized too late what she had said and stopped talking abruptly. 

Madame Morrible raised her other eyebrow. “After class?” 

Galinda looked down at her hands. Maybe it was all right to tell the sorceress some of what had been said, if it would clear Dr. Dillamond’s name. “Elphaba and I heard them as we were walking out. Dr. Dillamond sounded angry. He said that Auntie showed him a false lesson plan and that he never would have approved what she'd said. He was worried he would lose his job because of her. But he didn’t do anything wrong. He tried to cut in a couple of times, but my aunt talked over him and Dr. Dillamond is wonderful, but he’s a little soft spoken—” 

Madame Morrible raised her hand to cut off the frenzied flow of her words. “All right dearie, that's enough,” she said. “I believe you.” 

“He won’t get in trouble, will he? Because it really wasn’t his fault—” 

“There’s an ongoing investigation into the matter, but I will tell the committee about what you overheard. I can assure you that Dr. Dillamond won’t lose his position,” Madame Morrible said soothingly. “But as for your aunt…I’m afraid that she’ll have to face some disciplinary action. Professors at an institution as illustrious as Shiz simply can’t get away with peddling such obviously baseless accusations to students—” 

“But the accusations weren’t baseless, Madame Morrible. Auntie was exceedingly thorough. The industry subsidies really did negatively impact the Animal community of Settica. I’m sure Father didn’t know about it, but that doesn’t make it right.” 

“And I’m sure your father would be willing to help the Animals, when you tell him what happened. But what your aunt did will only make her enemies, not friends. Though I can’t say I’m particularly surprised.” Madame Morrible sighed. “Amaryllis was like this when she was at school too. Brilliant, but impulsive. Always leaping without checking to see if there was solid ground under her feet.” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to ask if she told you anything else.” 

“Anything else?” Galinda asked. 

“Anything treasonous, dearie.” 

Galinda thought about how Amaryllis had nearly confessed to murder. She thought about the scars on her back. Perhaps Madame Morrible knew what the runes meant. Maybe she could even make them go away. But something kept her from saying anything about them. “No, Madame Morrible.” Then something occurred to her. “You’ve worked with Father almost since he came to Oz, right?” 

Whatever Madame Morrible had expected her to say, it clearly wasn’t that. “Yes, of course.” 

“Did you ever meet his niece? He told me about her while he was visiting for Parents Weekend.” 

She watched Madame Morrible’s expression for any sign of recognition, but the sorceress carefully kept her face blank. “Yes. I knew her.” 

“Why didn’t Father ever tell me about her?” 

“I imagine it was too difficult for him. He was devastated when she died. I thought he would never recover from it.” 

A shiver crawled down Galinda’s spine. “And how did she die?” 

“She was poisoned at the party to celebrate her 24th birthday. It was…quite a shock.” Madame Morrible looked down at her hands. “We never found out who was responsible, although your father has his suspicions. I suspect he told you?” Galinda nodded. “It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if your aunt actually was responsible. Amaryllis Arduenna had everything: beauty, riches, intelligence, the right family name. But she wasn’t the heir to the throne. Perhaps she was always jealous of Victoria, always wanting more than what she could have. She was certainly the prime suspect. But her family rallied around her, and so did the Uplands. They threatened to cut off trade with the Emerald City if she wasn’t released pending a formal trial, and then there wasn’t enough evidence for a trial. Just circumstantial things, but they were enough to convince your father.” And Amaryllis seemed to think she was responsible too, but she didn't seem to know for sure. Why not? 

“What kinds of things?” Galinda asked. 

“Victoria was poisoned during a birthday toast. Instead of alcohol, of course, she drank poison. Amaryllis was the last one spotted near the drink glasses. And she’d been acting strangely in the weeks leading up to the party—she was more standoffish than usual, she was easily distracted, and one of Victoria’s maids said she overheard an argument between the girls the night before the party. But as I said, nothing concrete.” Madame Morrible shrugged. “Still, I wouldn’t get too attached to your aunt. If she puts on another…performance like the one she gave In her last class, I doubt she’ll last very long here at Shiz.” The tea kettle whistled. "Would you like some tea, dearie?" 

Galinda made her excuses to leave soon after, her head spinning. She was distracted on her way to the library, nearly falling into one of the canals because she was so lost in her own thoughts. Sarima waved to her, coming out of the library as Galinda stepped inside, but Galinda barely saw her. She couldn't stop wondering why in Oz Amaryllis would (possibly with her parents’ help) murder a friend—at her own birthday party, no less. It seemed unreasonably cruel, and Amaryllis had never once struck her as cruel.

She found Elphaba in a reading room on the top floor of the library, late afternoon sunlight shading in through the golden glass. Elphaba was sitting in front of a table that was covered in old newspapers. They filled nearly every square inch of available space. Galinda took the seat across from her, but before she could say anything Elphaba said “The article is missing.” 

“What are you talking about?” Galinda asked. 

“All of the articles about the Wizard arriving in Oz. They’re just…gone.” 

“The newspapers are missing?” 

“No. The articles are.” Elphaba pulled out a newspaper and handed it across the table. At first Glinda thought the front page was missing but then she realized that it was still attached. It was just that most of it had been cut out, until the only thing that remained were a few advertisements for various shops in Shiz. “Most of them are like this.” She passed more mangled newspapers across the table. “I asked the librarian where the missing articles are, but she said she didn’t know. She thinks the newspapers were donated to the school like this.” Elphaba sighed, practically deflating into her chair. “We’re back to square one.” 

“Well, maybe not square one,” Galinda replied. “Maybe square two.” And then she told Elphaba everything that Madame Morrible had told her. 

They were studying in their dorm room later that night when there was a knock on the door. Elphaba was in the middle of writing, so Galinda went to open the door and wasn’t altogether surprised to see Nessa waiting in the hallway. She stopped by every so often to loan Elphaba clothes or ask for her help on homework assignments. “Hi, Nessa. Elphie is just finishing her essay—” 

“Oh, I didn’t come to talk to Fabala,” Nessa said, like that was an entirely normal thing to say. “I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Oh?” Galinda asked. She heard Elphaba set her pen down and straighten up in her chair. Galinda and Nessa weren’t unfriendly, by any means, but they didn’t really have a reason to go out of their way to talk to each other. 

Nessa looked around the hallway and then lowered her voice, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. “I’m going on a date with Alix this weekend and I need a new dress. Would you mind going into town with me tomorrow to help me pick something out?” 

“I…yes, of course.” Galinda loved dress shopping—and she was sure that Nessa would be a more willing participant than Elphaba or Sarima. But it was the last thing she’d expected Nessa to ask her. 

Nessa beamed. “Wonderful! I’ll see you after class.” She turned her chair and went back down the hallway. Galinda closed her bedroom door, still slightly mystified—and then wondering why she felt mystified. Nessa said her father had bought most of her clothes and Frexspar Thropp’s taste was…eccentric, to say the least. And at least twenty years out of date. And she wasn’t really surprised that Nessa and Alix had decided to make things official, when they spent nearly every waking moment with each other. She supposed she was just surprised that Nessa had told her about the date first, instead of Elphaba. 

“What was that about?” Elphaba asked as Galinda closed the door to the suite behind her. 

“Nessa is going on a date with Alix,” Galinda said. “She wants me to go into town with her tomorrow and pick out a dress that's actually in fashion.” 

Elphaba’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t know they were that serious.” 

“Really, Elphie. Alix practically fell asleep on her shoulder in Biology yesterday.” 

Elphaba rolled her eyes. “I do have eyes, Galinda. I just…thought she would have told me first.” 

Me too, Galinda thought. But she didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to make Elphaba feel worse. “Maybe she just forgot to tell you.” Nessa had been spending a lot of time in the art studio recently, working on her midterm project. Alix was probably there with her.

“Maybe,” Elphaba replied, but she didn’t seem convinced. Privately, Galinda wasn’t either. “She’s just never kept something like this from me before. But I guess I’m not completely surprised. We never talk anymore. Sometimes...it feels like I barely know her.”

Galinda squeezed her hand. Soft warmth spread up her arm from where their hands touched, up into her chest. Elphaba’s eyes were so soft when she looked up at her. “I know I don’t have siblings, but it seems to me that everyone’s a little different now than they were at the start of the year. Nessa is finding the things she likes to do, and the people she likes to be around. And so are you. You might not be spending as much time together right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to lose each other. It doesn’t mean you’re not still sisters.”

“That was…unexpectedly wise, Galinda. Thank you.” Elphaba seemed almost surprised that Galinda was capable of making an insightful comment. Earlier in the year Galinda might have been offended; now Elphaba’s candor made her smile. She liked how Elphaba never tried to hide how she was really feeling, or what she was really thinking.   

Her honesty pushed Galinda to be honest too. “Although…it’s not like you’ve been entirely honest with Nessa either. You didn’t tell her that your father was starving you earlier in the year.” 

“That was different. And he wasn’t starving me.” 

Galinda tried not to sigh too loudly. “We can discuss your father another time, but it doesn’t change the fact that you felt you couldn’t share what was happening with your sister.” 

“I didn’t want to bother her.” 

“Well, maybe she didn’t want to bother you.” 

“A first date is very different from only being able to afford one meal a day.” 

Galinda had to fight not to roll her eyes. “They’re similar enough, Elphaba. They’re both things you might want to keep to yourself.” 

“I suppose they are a little bit similar. In that way at least,” Elphaba conceded, and Galinda took it as a victory.

 Luckily, that brought up a change in topic and Galinda took it wholeheartedly. “Did you hear back from your father about winter break?” 

“Not yet, but I can’t imagine he’ll say no,” Elphaba replied. “Having me networking in the Emerald City is much preferable than having me at home where he has to deal with me.” She said it so matter of factly that Galinda couldn’t tell if she was being sardonic or serious. 

“Well, I heard back from Father and he officially says you’re very welcome to stay at the Emerald Palace with me over the holidays. He’ll send you an official invitation a couple weeks before. You’ll need it to get past the guards.” 

“Really?” Elphaba asked, and Galinda handed her the letter so she could read it herself. 

“Yes, really. You, Elphaba Thropp, are going to the Emerald City.” Elphaba beamed. 

And for the moment, at least, it didn’t matter that Galinda’s parents might have been murderers or that her aunt had mysterious runes nobody could read carved into her back or that Father had relatives he had never told her about. She’d at least been able to make Elphaba’s night and coax that carefree smile out of her that so few other people ever got to see. It always made Galinda feel special that Elphaba trusted her enough to share it with her. 

And for now, at least, that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

“I think we should go speak to Everett Tenmeadows,” Galinda said, dumping her books on her desk. It had been at least a month since she’d written to him and she hadn’t received an answer—and with everything that Amaryllis wasn’t telling her, she was starting to wonder if that was really a coincidence. “The Tenmeadows estate isn’t far. We can get there and back within a day.” It would be an easy two hour journey by train. The town of Tenmeadows was supposed to be quaint and full of pretty shops and cafes. They could get lunch there after talking to Everett, spend the afternoon shopping, and then take the train back to Shiz in the evening.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow, tapping her pen against the side of her desk. “Are we planning to let him know that we’re coming first?”

“Absolutely not. If we do, he’ll probably find a reason not to be in town that day. And we need to talk to him, Elphaba. He’s the only member of my parent’s friend group who’s still alive, minus Amaryllis and Dr. Dillamond. But Amaryllis can’t tell us anything and Dr. Dillamond doesn’t want to tell us anything.” Galinda had visited office hours the week after Amaryllis’s guest lecture, hoping that Dr. Dillamond would be more forthcoming with information without Amaryllis there. But even though he’d been unfailingly polite, he hadn’t told her anything of substance. 

In fact, he’d seemed to go out of her way to avoid telling her anything of substance. “I unfortunately didn’t see much of your parents the summer before they died,” he told her, pushing his spectacles up on his nose with a hoof. “I was finishing my dissertation that year and I spent most of my time in the library at Shiz.” 

Galinda had to bite her lip to keep her frustration in check. She was sure that he knew more than he was letting on, but he clearly wasn’t going to tell her anything after what had happened in class, especially since he thought his position at Shiz was in jeopardy. “Did you ever hear that my aunt was accused of murder?” She watched him carefully to gauge his reaction, but he kept his face infuriatingly neutral. 

“I heard the rumors,” he said carefully. “But I’m afraid I don’t know enough to decide if they were credible.” 

“You certainly don’t seem to treat my aunt like she’s a murderer.” 

He winced, as if the questions physically pained him. “Well, I try to believe in the concept of innocence until proven guilty even for the most heinous of crimes.” 

“Or do you just not believe my aunt could do something like that? You’d have to be a terrible person to kill a friend in cold blood, don’t you think?” 

Dr. Dillamond stared down at his desk. For the first time, Glainda realized that he didn’t have any personal effects displayed on his desk. There were no pictures of his family, just his graduate diploma from Shiz and a bouquet of poppies that she and Elphaba had picked for him the week before. “I’m afraid I’m not qualified to answer questions on the nature of evil, Miss Galinda. You’d be better off asking a professor in the Philosophy department.” It was the politest dismissal she’d ever heard, but it was a dismissal nonetheless. They wouldn’t get any information through him, not while Madame Morrible was still looking for someone to blame for Amaryllis’s lecture.

She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t asking about the nature of evil. She was asking about her aunt—and maybe Dr. Dillamond couldn’t answer questions about philosophy, but he could certainly questions about Amaryllis. Galinda was sure of it. For some reason, he just wouldn’t. So they would have to try something else instead. 

Or maybe someone.

“Do you think he’ll let us see him?” Elphaba asked. 

“I’ll say Father sent me.” 

“Won’t he want to know why?” 

“Probably not. Usually just Father’s name is enough to make people listen. Please come with me, Elphie? Tenmeadows is supposed to have a very nice bookstore. There was still some empty space on the shelves next to Elphaba's bed.” 

Elphaba smirked. “You know I would have come with you anyway, right? It's pertinent to our investigation. You don’t have to bribe me with a bookstore.” 

“I wasn’t trying to bribe you,” Galinda said, even though she supposed she kind of was. “Think of it more like an inducement.” 

"I'm pretty sure that's the definition of a bribe." 

"It's an inducement, Elphie!" 

Elphaba chuckled. “Then consider me induced.” 

“Wonderful! I’ll buy our train tickets.” She raised a hand before Elphaba could try to protest. “Consider the cost of your ticket covered under the terms of our investigation. We’re traveling for business, not for pleasure.” Even though spending the afternoon strolling the picturesque streets of Tenmeadows, dragging Elphaba into dress shops and people watching at pretty outdoor cafes, sounded like the perfect way to spend an afternoon. At least to Galinda.

“Fine,” Elphaba said. “But I insist on buying our coffees.” Galinda didn’t argue. But she still counted it as a win. 

The Tenmeadows estate was beautiful, all rolling green hills and wheat ripened fields that sloped down to a crystal clear river snaking by in the distance. The heavy industry that Gillikin was known for in its bigger city centers seemed very far away; the environment was positively bucolic. Even the air seemed cleaner out here. Galinda took deep breaths to fill her lungs.

The man at the train station was able to direct them down a neat gravel path that led to a long marble house crouched on the edge of the estate. Its portico was lined with long marble columns and its front windows ran the length of the house, revealing an expansive ballroom lined with mirrors that glittered in the afternoon sunlight. There was a heavy golden door knocker on the front door, carved into the shape of a sheaf of wheat. It felt cold against Galinda’s palm as she brought it down once and then twice. For a while, nothing happened. Galinda shifted from foot to foot, trying to accept the fact that they’d come all this way for nothing, when there were footsteps in the hall and then the door opened. A squat housekeeper with her hair tied up in a ragged bun peered at out at them with sharp eyes. She opened the door just enough so that she could see out, but Galinda and Elphaba couldn’t see inside. “The Margreave isn’t seeing guests today.” 

Galinda wedged her foot in the door before the woman could close it on them. “Would you ask him to reconsider? We’re here on special business for the Wizard of Oz.” She tried to keep her voice light, almost conspiratorial. People liked to think they were in on a secret, especially when it had to do with the Wizard. 

The woman’s eyes narrowed. For a moment Galinda thought she was going to shut the door on them anyway, even if she had to smash Galinda's foot to do it. Instead she said “Wait here, please,” and then disappeared back down the hallway. Galinda waited for about thirty seconds and then followed her. 

Elphaba tried to grab her hand, but Galinda danced away. “What are you doing?” she hissed. 

“Finding answers,” Galinda replied. “We’ve come all this way. You can stay outside if you want to, but I’m not leaving without them.” Elphaba rolled her eyes, but hurried to catch up with her. 

The house was even more opulent inside. Almost every square inch of wallpaper was covered in portraits of frowning men with blond hair who looked unsettlingly like Avaric. All of the tables were cluttered with objects d’art and other bric-a-brac. It reminded her of Father’s workshop, a long room with tables covered in his half finished inventions. When Galinda was younger, she’d liked to sit on one of the stools and watch him work, muttering to himself as he picked up tools and discarded them and tinkered away at a few scraps of metal until they turned into something beautiful, like a box with wings or a clockwork lion that strutted around the room on clockwork paws or a music box with a tiny dancer in a green tutu who rotated on the tips of her toes every time the lid opened. She still liked to watch him work sometimes when she couldn’t sleep, watching him take something ordinary and make it extraordinary because he had seen potential in it that no one else had. Just like he’d seen the potential in her and raised her into the closest thing Oz had to a princess. 

The housekeeper stopped in front of a large pair of double doors and knocked once. “Your Lordship, there are two girls here to see you who say they’re here on business from the Wizard. One of the girls has green skin—” She suddenly noticed them standing behind her and her lip curled. Frankly, Galinda was surprised it had taken her so long to realize they were there. They hadn’t really been quiet. “What are you doing here? I told you to wait outside—” 

The double doors opened. A man in a neat blue waistcoat that was worn with age stood with a hand braced on each door. His eyes were bloodshot and bleary and his sandy hair was in disarray, as if he’d spent most of the morning running a hand through it. Time clearly hadn’t been kind to Everett Tenmeadows. He couldn’t look less like the rakish young man with the devil-may-care smile who’d been sitting at the table with her parents in that yearbook photograph. When he saw Galinda, his eyes widened. “No,” he said, his voice trembling. “You can’t be here. She said I’d be left alone. She said I’d made my peace—” 

“What are you talking about?” Elphaba asked, at the same time Galinda said “Why haven’t you been returning my letters?” 

Everett ignored them both. Instead he said “How did you get here?” He didn't look over at Elphaba once. He hardly seemed to notice she was there. Galinda could feel his eyes boring into her, soft but insistent, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“We took the train from Shiz,” Galinda said primly, trying to keep control of the situation even though she could feel things spiraling out of control. She knew this was her last chance to get answers. If Everett succeeded in throwing her out, he would never tell her anything. And then he’d probably write to Father and Father would tell her not to come back, and yet another path to the truth would be closed to her. 

“Did she send you?” 

“Did who send us?” Elphaba said.

“Nobody sent us,” Galinda replied. “I just want to know about my parents.”

He looked like he wanted to say something and thought better of it, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, before he turned on his heel and strode back into his office. 

Galinda followed him in before he could slam the door on her. “Why won’t you tell me about them? We came all this way—” 

“I certainly didn’t tell you to come.” He grabbed a crystal decanter off a side table and poured himself a glass of a dark and bubbly liquid. “In fact, I would have thought my profound silence said enough.” 

“But you knew them. You were friends with them.” 

Everett visibly flinched. “I was friends with them, once. But that was a very long time ago. I barely saw your parents in the last year or so before their deaths.” 

“Why weren’t you friends with them anymore?” 

He shook his head, looking everywhere to avoid meeting her eyes. “Why does it matter so much to you? By all accounts, you have a charmed life. A life that anyone in Oz would kill to have, even. Why can’t you be content with that? Why do you have to come barging into everyone's business, digging up things that should have stayed buried?” 

“Because I want to know where I come from!” She didn’t mean to scream, but everyone froze: Everett, the housekeeper, even Elphaba. “Do you have any idea what it’s like not to know why you laugh the way you do, or why you’re allergic to pecans, or why you learned to whistle without even trying? Do you know what it’s like to not know the most fundamental things about who you are and where you came from? And no one knew your parents well enough to tell you anything about them? Anything meaningful, at least. Do you have any idea how lonely that feels? Especially now that I know they might be murderers.” Her voice broke on the last word. She had to look away so he wouldn’t see the hot tears forming in her eyes. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her frustration.  

There was a long, terrible silence. Everett sighed, setting his glass back down on the desk with a dull thunk. A circle of moisture spread out over his papers. “I’m not the person you want to talk to.” 

“I know. But you’re the only one I have. Everyone else is dead.” Or they refused to tell her anything, like Amaryllis and Dr. Dillamond, and that was almost worse: knowing they had the answers she wanted so desperately, but for some reason they wouldn’t give them to her. 

Everett swore and collapsed into the chair behind his desk, as if his body could no longer bear its own weight. “All right,” he muttered. “What do you want to know?” He raised his voice. “Milla, could you get us something to drink?” The housekeeper pursed her lips and walked away, like she wanted nothing more than to drag them out by the scruffs of their necks. 

Galinda took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, folding her hands neatly in her lap. The chair was worn; she could feel a spring poking into her back, and stuffing poured out through rips in the arms of the chair. Elphaba sat down in the chair next to her, their hands almost close enough to touch. Now that she was actually sitting here, face to face with Everett Tenmeadows, she realized she should have rehearsed a question to ask, because she had so many of them that she didn’t know where to start. 

But instead, the first question that slipped out was “Were my parents murderers? Did they kill Victoria Diggs?” 

Everett flinched. He looked down at his desk, running a hand through his thinning hair. “I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened that night,” he said. “I don’t think anyone does, not even the people that were there. But I can tell you that your parents and your aunt would never, ever, have done anything to intentionally hurt Victoria.” 

Galinda felt a little bit of the pressure on her chest ease. It wasn’t an absolution, exactly, but it suggested that there was more to the story. It suggested that her parents weren't such terrible people that they would kill a friend in cold blood. “Did you know her?” 

The smallest of smiles flickered at the edge of his lips, as he swilled his drink. “Know her? I was engaged to her for nearly a year, after we graduated from Shiz.” 

“Engaged?” Elphaba asked. 

“Yes.” His eyes went soft, as though he was no longer in the room with them but somewhere else entirely, years and years in the past. “Everyone thought she would be the next Wizard. Or Wizardess, I suppose. Anyway, my parents thought it would be an advantageous political match. And we liked each other well enough. We broke up amicably about six months before her…death.” He seemed to hesitate over the word. “We both liked different people. But I’ll never forget her. I’ll never forget any of them. Even if I sometimes wish I could.” He opened one of his desk drawers and rummaged around for a moment, until he pulled out a framed picture and handed it to Glinda. “Look, here we all are the night before graduation.”  

Galinda felt Elphaba’s shoulder brush against hers, as she leaned in to see better. They were sitting in the poppy fields: Everett standing in the back, holding a croquet mallet, staring out at them with a smile that suggested he held nothing but hope for the future; Dr. Dillamond, Amaryllis, and a young woman with fiery red hair that Galinda didn’t know. Then there were her parents: Highmuster’s laughing smile and Larena’s kind eyes. Galinda found herself tracing a fingertip over the glass, over the curves of Larena’s smile and the arm that Highmuster had wrapped around her waist. 

And sitting on her mother’s other side was a girl with Father’s eyes. Galinda nearly dropped the frame. “That’s her, isn’t it?” As she looked at Victoria, Galinda realized that she and Father weren’t that similar. Victoria’s hair was darker than his hair was in the pictures that Galinda had seen of him before his hair turned white. Victoria seemed delicate in a way that he never had. But her eyes were the same as his, and so was her smile. Her eyes danced, like she'd believed she had an entire life ahead of her.

Everett shifted forward in his seat so he could see better. “Yes. But you sound surprised. I’m sure that he would have told you, of all people, about her.” 

“He didn’t. I didn’t even know she existed until a couple of weeks ago.”

“Well, they did a very thorough job of erasing her after her death.” 

“Erasing her?” Elphaba said. 

Everett bit his lip, like he’d said something he hadn’t meant to. “It was the scandal of the year, maybe even the century. The Wizard’s heir dead at her own birthday party. The presumptive murderer a daughter of one of the most important families in Gillikin. People talked about it for months. And then, suddenly, we couldn’t talk about it anymore. We couldn’t talk about her.” 

“But why not, if she was such a prominent figure?” Elphaba asked. “Why have we never heard of her?” 

Everett glanced at Galinda almost nervously. “I’m not exactly sure. They never said.” 

Elphaba sat forward in her chair. “Surely you must have your own ideas about it?” 

Everett looked at her for the first time since they’d entered his office. “I always assumed it was a correction to all the rumors and speculation. Her death was overshadowing her life. Perhaps it was easier for the Wizard to pretend she’d never had a life at all, then to be constantly reminded that he couldn’t stop her death.” He cleared his throat and glanced at the door, as if waiting for Milla to come back with tea. “I don’t know exactly how your parents were involved, but I can tell you they would never have hurt her intentionally. But I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to talk about a decades old murder case. What do you want to know about your parents?” 

Galinda could feel their eyes on her—Everett’s sharp and watchful, Elphaba’s soft and worried. “Everything,” she whispered. “I want to know everything.” 

The sour faced housekeeper brought in tea and Everett told them about how he’d met her parents at various Gillikinese society functions when they were younger but hadn’t really gotten to know them until they arrived at Shiz. He talked about their classes, their late night study sessions, their trips into town on the weekends because Larena and Amaryllis always needed to buy the newest fashions from the Emerald City. And while Galinda was sure that he was telling the truth—his voice was wistful and his gaze was far away—she was sure that there were things he wasn’t telling her. Their lives sounded far too idyllic. Surely they hadn’t all gotten along so well all the time. Did he really just think she only wanted good memories, or was he hiding something from her? 

It seemed like everyone in Galinda’s life was suddenly hiding things from her. 

While Everett told her about a time he and Highmuster and Dr. Dillamond drank almost three pots of coffee cramming for a History final, she absentmindedly reached out and examined a letter opener with the Tenmeadows crest on it. The gold was cold against her fingertips and the short blade sparkled in the sunlight that filtered through the open windows. 

But as she looked down at the letter opener, she felt a tug in the base of her gut, and when she looked up the room had changed. The curtains had been drawn, plunging the room into darkness. There were more empty bottles of alcohol lined up on the side table and instead of sitting down behind his desk, Everett was standing up and pacing. The piles of paper on his desk were so tall they were sliding into each other. The chair beside Galinda was empty and her chest squeezed. Where was Elphaba? How had they somehow managed to get separated, when they were sitting right next to each other? 

Dr. Dillamond stormed in. Galinda danced out of the way, wondering how he had managed to get to Tenmeadows so fast. How had they missed him on the train? “Dr. Dillamond, what are you—” 

But Dr. Dillamond didn’t seem to see or hear her.  Neither did Everett, but he didn’t look like the man she and Elphaba had just been talking to. His hair was long and shiny, no longer thinning at the top of his head. But he had the same desperate look in his eyes, the same half full bottle of alcohol sitting on the table below the window. He looked…younger. So did Dr. Dillamond. His fur was brighter, more colorful. 

“How could you?” he cried, and Galinda realized that she had never heard the Goat sound truly livid until right this moment. He’d been angry with Amaryllis, but he’d never sounded like he truly hated her. He looked at Everett Tenmeadows like he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him. 

“Do what?” Everett asked, but his voice shook and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot, as if he’d been crying for hours. 

“You told the Emerald Guard where she was. And now she’s gone.” 

Everett sighed. “I didn’t have a choice, Desmond. They were at my door. What was I supposed to say?” 

“Anything! You should have lied and said you didn’t know where she was, or that you were indisposed and couldn’t answer the door! You shouldn’t have sold her out!” 

Everett took another swig of his drink. “Now, I think that’s a bit unfair—” 

“She never would have sold you out. You know that.” 

“Well I guess we aren’t all as perfect as Amaryllis Oz-damned Arduenna.” Everett squeezed the stem of his glass until Galinda was sure it would crack. “I’m sure we aren’t all so brave either. Even though she’s the one who’s wanted for murder.” 

“You know she didn’t do it.” 

“Do I? Because she certainly sounded like she did when she showed up here in the middle of the night, ranting and raving—” 

Dr. Dillamond went very still. “She came to you?”

“Yes. Still in her ballgown, soaked to the skin, shivering like a leaf. She wouldn’t stop shivering, you know, even after I’d given her some fresh clothes and something to eat and sat her in front of the fire for a couple of hours. Of course, I wouldn’t have taken her in if I’d known what she’d done.” 

“She didn’t kill her, Everett. You know that.” 

“Do I?” Everett shouted. “Victoria’s dead, Desmond.” Dr. Dillamond flinched slightly. “And we all know what Amaryllis and the Uplands went to that party to do.” 

“Something clearly went wrong—” 

“What does it matter? Victoria still died. Do you really think anyone’s going to care if it was an accident? Do you really think the Wizard is going to care?” 

“There’s no proof—” 

“You think that’s going to matter to him, if he wants to find someone to blame?” Everett ran his hands through his hair again, making it stand up on end. “It went too far. We should have stopped it.” 

“Have you ever known Larena to be wrong about her predictions?” 

“But a drought, Desmond? Animals forced to leave their homes?” 

“It’s happened before. Why shouldn’t it happen again?” 

“Because Oz isn’t like that anymore. It’s changed. Animals are pillars in their communities.” 

“The more that I read for my dissertation, I don’t think it’s possible for a place to change. Or its people.” 

Everett shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.  “It’s different for you. You don’t have a family. You don’t know what it’s like to have to make difficult choices.” 

Dr. Dillamond was quiet for a minute, but Galinda could practically feel the hatred radiating off of them. “You’re right. I don’t. But I do have integrity. You can tell yourself whatever will make it easier to cope with what you did. But you know as well as I do that if your positions were reversed, Amaryllis would have done anything she could to save you.” He turned and left, his hooves clicking against the study floor. The door slammed shut behind him. 

Everett was quiet for a moment, his fingers curled around the edge of his desk. He swore and then he seemed to crumple inwards, his body landing  in a heap on the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs—

“Galinda!” 

Galinda’s eyes shot open. She was lying on the floor of Everett’s study, with Elphaba leaning over her. She was half resting in Elphaba’s lap, her upper body nestled against Elphaba’s chest so she wouldn’t hit her head. Everett—the older version of him, at least—was standing on the other side of his desk, eyeing them both warily. “What happened to her?” he asked, his voice sharp. “What did she do?” 

“She fainted!” Elphaba snapped. “Well don’t just stand there!” she said, as the seconds passed. “Go get her some water!” Everett practically bolted from the room. “Galinda, what happened?” Elphaba pressed one hand to the side of her face, looking into her eyes as if she’d be able to read everything that had transpired there. The concern in her eyes made Galinda’s heart twist. 

“I…I don’t know,” she whispered. “One minute I was here and then I was…” Where had she been? In the past? But that was impossible. 

She didn’t realize that she was shaking until Elphaba took off her coat and wrapped it around her, still holding Galinda snug against her. Galinda couldn't help relaxing into her touch, into the warmth of her body. “It’s all right,” Elphaba murmured. She pressed the back of her hand to Galinda’s forehead, searching for a fever. “We’ll figure it out. You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

Everett burst inside with a pitcher of water and a few glasses on a porcelain tray. He set the tray down on the ground next to Elphaba, who murmured her thanks as she poured a glass of water and helped Galinda drink. The water made Galinda’s head feel a little clearer, and her panic started to dissipate. But Elphaba’s grip on her didn’t loosen. “Let me call a doctor—” He turned to leave and Galinda knew he just wanted to get away from them, from her and all of the questions she could ask. 

“Wait!” Galinda cried. Her voice shook. “Did you turn in my aunt? Did she come here, looking for help?” 

Everett went very pale. “You have to understand, Miss Galinda, no one knew what had happened that night in the Emerald Palace—” 

“Did you turn her in?” Galinda had always been raised to be polite, almost to a fault. She had learned to never drop her smile in public, not even when someone said something insulting about her or Father. But she found she simply couldn’t be polite and agreeable now, not when she was so close to finding answers. Part of the answers, at least. 

“Soldiers arrived at my door. I didn’t have a choice,” Everett said. 

“But you thought that she killed Victoria.” 

Everett’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know that? I never told you—” 

“Earlier you said that you don’t think she did it. What was the truth? Why won’t anybody tell me the truth?” 

“Galinda, I think we should go,” Elphaba said, her hand soft but firm on Galinda’s shoulder. “Can you stand?” 

“But he isn’t telling us anything—” 

“He’s told us enough,” Elphaba said. She glanced back at Everett, but Galinda was still lying on the floor so she couldn’t see her expression. 

Everett cleared his throat. “Take one of the carriages to the train station. Miss Galinda, would you like me to call for a doctor?” 

“I’m fine,” Galinda snapped, using the side of his desk to leverage herself to her feet. Elphaba reached out a hand but she ignored it, determined to prove that she wasn’t an invalid. “And your carriage won’t be necessary. We’ll walk.” She stormed out of the house before he could call her back, with Elphaba close on her heels. She didn’t slow her pace until they had left the estate and were halfway along the road to town. Her blood was still roaring in her ears, her breath still coming in uneven gasps. 

After a while Elphaba stopped, leaning against a fencepost. Galinda suspected that the rest was for her sake, but Elphaba didn't want to embarrass her. “What happened in there?” 

For a moment Galinda thought about not telling her and simply blaming the heat, or the fact that they’d left Shiz so early in the day and she hadn’t slept well the night before. She thought about what Everett had told Dr. Dillamond: It went too far. We should have stopped it. Because her mother had seen something, something that frightened her so much that she had been willing to take drastic measures to make sure it didn't happen. “This is going to sound crazy.” 

“All right,” Elphaba said. 

“You’re not afraid?” 

“Of you? Not at all?” 

Galinda had to close her eyes to get the words out because they were so absurd. “I think I saw something from the past. A memory, maybe.” As she walked the rest of the way to town, she explained everything she had seen to Elphaba. 

Elphaba stopped in her tracks. “A drought? Animals fleeing their homes?” 

“Yes. What about it?” 

“What if your mother saw the Great Drought before it happened? What if she thought she could stop it somehow, and everyone else helped her, but then something went…wrong and Victoria got hurt?” Elphaba had started walking again; Galinda had to hurry to keep up with her. 

Galinda wanted to tell her that she was absurd, seeing patterns where there weren’t any. But the pieces fit together. The theory was at the very least possible, if not exactly plausible. “How were they trying to stop it?” 

“That’s what we need to figure out.” Elphaba hesitated for a moment. “If we can figure out what happened that night, we should be able to find out why it happened. But everyone we know who was there that night either can’t or won’t tell us anything.” 

“I’m sure Father can tell us what happened when we visit for Lurlinemas.” 

“Maybe. But it’s always good to have more than one perspective. We need to find a way to break the spell on Amaryllis—” 

“And then we can find a way to prove her innocence.” They just needed to find proof so that they could show Father that it had all been a misunderstanding. Whatever her parents and Amaryllis had been planning to do that night, it had nothing to do with Victoria. She'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

Or so Galinda hoped. She tried to ignore how Amaryllis seemed so convinced that she'd killed Victoria too, with poison. How many ways could poison be misinterpreted?   

“That’s the idea,” Elphaba said. They had reached the town of Tenmeadows proper now and they took a quick detour into the bookstore, where Elphaba scanned the History and Sorcery sections for books on the Great Drought and runes. After a few minutes she handed Galinda a book called Unfogging the Future: Simple Precepts for the Novice Clairvoyant. “My treat.” 

Galinda flipped through the book, past pictures of crystal balls and something that looked suspiciously like a dove’s entrails. “Oh Elphie, I don’t need this. I don’t have any magic worth speaking of.” 

“You might have just gotten a vision of the past.” 

“But we don’t know that. Maybe there’s another explanation.” There had to be another explanation. Both Madame Morrible and Everett Tenmeadows had intimated that her mother’s powers had driven her insane. Someone else might have gotten killed because of them. Her parents might have gotten killed because of them too. 

“It might help to read—” 

“I’m fine, Elphaba!” The words came out sharper than she meant them to and Elphaba flinched, almost imperceptibly. Galinda's stomach dropped.. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just that…I’ve never shown any signs of magic before. Surely, if I had any kind of clairvoyance, it would have shown itself before now.” 

“Then what do you think happened in Everett Tenmeadows’s study?”

“I don’t know, but it was a mistake. It isn’t going to happen again.” She would make sure it didn't. 

Elphaba was quiet for a moment. “If it does, will you read the book?” 

Galinda took a deep breath in, and then a deep breath out. “Yes, fine. I will read the book if and only if I get another vision. Which I will not, because I am not in any way magical. Are you happy now?” 

“Perfectly. I’ll buy it myself for some light reading,” Elphaba said, taking her purchases over to the counter. And for once, Galinda hoped that Elphaba was wrong. She really, truly hoped that she really didn’t have any magic to speak of. Because if she kept seeing visions of the past, she didn’t know how long she could ignore them. 

But she couldn't stand the idea that her powers might hurt the people she loved. She couldn't stand the idea that they might hurt Elphaba.