Chapter 6
The temperature plummets as the night goes on. The air that had been crisp and pleasant with the sunlight is now freezing and bitter. The wind that blows down from the mountain doesn’t help, either, and Glinda is eternally grateful for the blanket that’s tucked around her.
She looks down once in a while to see how Elphaba is faring, but the shelter has fallen still and there’s no sign of her. Maybe she’s buried herself in pine needles for warmth. She might even have a spell to keep out the cold, though Glinda doubts she has that much control, even after her time in the training room. Either way, she stays still and silent throughout the night.
Glinda dozes in and out, not comfortable enough to really fall asleep. Each time she wakes up she adjusts her blanket, checks that her rope is still secure, and looks down at Elphaba’s shelter. After a while it starts getting tedious, and the next time she wakes up she simply sits there, staring up through a break in the branches.
The stars have taken over, shining more brilliantly than she’s ever seen them, but what really captures her attention is the streaks of color that dance across the sky. Brilliant shades of green and blue and purple float above her, and she can’t do anything but stare. She’s never seen anything like this before. They’re everywhere, too, all across the valley and above the mountaintops. The lights of the Emerald City are dazzling, but this is a thousand times better. Where in Oz are they that something like this can happen naturally?
Glinda doesn’t sleep much after that. She spends the rest of the night gazing up at the clear sky and letting her mind wander. She can still see Boq’s face as he stepped off the platform—how peaceful he looked that split second before his death. Glinda shudders at the memory. How can anyone be that accepting of death? Sure, the boy had no chance. But maybe he could have run far enough to survive the first day. Maybe he could have been high up in a tree tonight, staring up at the lights dancing in the sky. Glinda tries to picture that instead, but she can’t get the image of his face out of her head.
She realizes she’s shaking now, even though the blanket is warm and pulled up to her shoulders. She shakes her head and leans back against the tree. The eastern side of the valley is starting to lighten up. Quietly, before the green girl wakes up, Glinda unties herself and stuffs the blanket and rope back into her bag. She’s eager for dawn now—for the light and warmth to come and push these stupid images out of her head.
Fog descends over the valley as the sun rises. It’s so thick that Glinda can barely see Elphaba crawl out of her shelter. The green girl quickly spreads out the branches and leaves she used before pulling an apple from her pack and continuing on.
Glinda scurries down her tree and heads after her. The heavy mist stays throughout the rest of the morning, making it hard to keep an eye on the green girl. Glinda even almost runs into her once, when Elphaba stops to eat a little bit. The blonde catches herself just before she walks into Elphaba’s line of sight and ducks down into the underbrush, cursing the stupid mountains and their stupid weather.
Apparently she’s not the only one. About an hour after that she hears voices, coming through the forest toward them.
“I hate this,” says one. “I can’t see anything.”
Glinda draws her dagger and drops into a crouch. It’s not even noon yet. Could the alliance really have caught up to them yet?
But there are only two voices, and they’re both rich with Vinkan accents. The blonde holds absolutely still, peering out through the leaves as Fiyero and Sarima come into view. So they have stuck together. And out of all the tributes in the arena, these two have the best chance of finding Glinda and Elphaba.
Elphaba. Glinda’s blood runs cold. Where is the green girl? Did she hear the others coming close, or is she still wandering around? Do they know she’s here? Are they hunting her?
No. If they were trying to get the green girl, they wouldn’t be talking. They must be just wandering through, unaware that their path is crossing other tributes. Glinda takes a quiet breath and tries to listen.
“I’ve never seen fog this heavy,” says Sarima. “Have you?”
“Once, when we took that trip to the Kells,” Fiyero replies. “But I don’t think even that was this bad.”
“This is unnerving,” she says. “And we’re not going to catch anything.”
“Not when we’re talking, no.”
Sarima rolls her eyes, but she smiles a little bit. Fiyero pulls a bag off his shoulder and digs through it for a moment before pulling out a small loaf of bread. He breaks it and hands Sarima half. They quietly decide to rest for a while, and Fiyero takes a seat on the ground while Sarima stays standing, looking around once in a while.
She needs to find Elphaba, preferably before the Vinkans do. Glinda waits until Sarima is turned away and distracted with her bread, then slips out from her hiding spot. She does her best to move silently and listens hard for any sounds from Fiyero and Sarima behind her.
To her surprise and increasing panic, she doesn’t find the green girl. Glinda falls still again and looks around. She just heard Elphaba a few minutes ago—she can’t be that far. But there’s no sign of her.
She’s safe, the blonde tells herself. She’s probably just hiding. Glinda takes a deep breath and looks around again, slower this time. The trees here are thinner and the fog is sticking to the ground, making the underbrush the best place for cover. Glinda crouches lower to the ground and peers through the trees around her, but there’s no trace of the green girl.
No, wait. Glinda narrows her eyes at a spot a few yards away. Elphaba has completely melted into the trees, but the air is shimmering ever so slightly at the base of a pine.
“We should keep going.” Fiyero’s voice comes from the forest behind them, making Glinda jump. “Maybe we can find someplace where the fog isn’t as thick.”
Sarima mumbles agreement and, after a minute or so, their footsteps fade away in the opposite direction. Glinda lets out a silent breath and watches as the shimmering disappears. Elphaba comes slowly out of her hiding place. She’s breathing hard and shaking, her fists clenching and unclenching. For a while she just stands there, staring through the trees to where Fiyero and Sarima were until her chest stops heaving and her hands stay still at her sides.
Eventually the green girl readjusts her pack of food and starts off again, but Glinda watches her go without moving. Her own heartbeat is still slowing down, though she was never really in any danger. She’s certain she could take Fiyero and Sarima if she had to. That’s not what she was so afraid of.
She shakes her head. So she was worried about Elphaba getting caught. That’s only natural, right? She wants to be the one to kill Elphaba, not some loner hunters from the Vinkus. That’s the only reason why she panicked.
Before she can come up with another answer, Glinda climbs to her feet and continues following the green girl’s trail.
***
The fog clears up around noon, and while Glinda is relieved, she also starts looking over her shoulder twice as often. They haven’t seen anyone else all morning, but with the fog gone it’s only a matter of time before someone catches up to them.
Elphaba picks berries from nearby bushes and eats as she walks. Glinda decides to preserve what’s in her bag and follows her example, although she’s far less certain about what is and isn’t safe. They make good pace until about halfway through the afternoon, when the green girl starts slowing down. At first Glinda thinks it’s on purpose—did Elphaba hear something? Does she know she’s being followed? It’s only half an hour later, when the blonde stops to take a drink, that she figures it out.
When was the last time Elphaba had any water? Glinda has her bottle, but they haven’t come across any streams or pools. It’s not hot out here, but they’ve been moving for a day and a half. No wonder the green girl is faltering.
There has to be some water source around here—especially with all the snow on the mountains. There should be at least a few streams trickling down into the forest. Maybe that’s what Elphaba has been moving toward all this time. She’s making her way up the valley, where the trees will be thinner and she’ll be able to find a water source easily.
Glinda hopes they get there quickly. Elphaba still seems determined, but without water she won’t last much longer. And what fun will it be killing her if she’s already half-dead?
As the afternoon drags on Glinda gets more and more frustrated. The green girl has slowed to little more than a stumble, though her scowl hasn’t faltered one bit. The most irritating part is that Glinda can’t do anything but follow her and watch. She eventually moves close enough to keep the green girl in sight, but it only makes her more annoyed. Why didn’t Elphaba think things through? Can’t she use some sort of magic to fix this? Apparently not, because as the sun nears the western peaks, it’s starting to seem absolutely hopeless.
Glinda is just beginning to wonder if she should kill Elphaba now, just to get to her before dehydration does, when she hears it. It’s quiet and bubbly, but the little sound makes her heart soar.
She looks through the trees at Elphaba, whose head has spun around toward the noise. She’s moving in an instant, forgetting all caution as she hurries toward the sound of the water. Glinda follows more slowly, wiping out all signs of a trail that the green girl leaves.
Dusk has officially fallen, and the sun glares low and blinding, painting the rest of valley gold. Glinda creeps toward the little stream they’ve found. Elphaba is kneeling beside it, her back to the blonde, gulping down handfuls of the crystal clear water. Glinda takes the opportunity to look around them. They’re probably not far from the end of the forest. There are trees going up the mountainside, but those are shorter and there are a lot less of them. She wonders where the green girl will go next. Will she try to find a good hideout here, near the water, or will she keep moving?
At that moment Elphaba stands and moves a few yards away from the stream. Her back is still turned, and Glinda can’t help but stare at the water. It looks cool and fresh and it’s coming from right off the mountain. Is it worth the risk to creep to the stream’s edge and fill up her water bottle? Maybe if she moves a little further downstream she can stay out of sight.
She’s just about to sneak forward when something moves in the corner of her vision. She looks up to see Elphaba sprinting out of sight, disappearing deeper into the forest.
Glinda tenses, listening hard, but she hears nothing other than the sound of the green girl running. Something must have scared her off, but what? The only thing here is Glinda herself.
Realization hits, and Glinda scrambles to her feet, cursing under her breath as she chases after Elphaba. How is the green girl moving so fast when just a few minutes ago she was stumbling from exhaustion?
It was a trick, Glinda thinks bitterly. Of course it was. A day and a half without water would be hard, but with the berries she’s been eating she would still be fine. Elphaba must have noticed Glinda at some point and faked dehydration to throw her off her guard
Glinda is fast, but Elphaba’s long legs give her the slightest advantage. She stays right at the edge of the blonde’s vision, leading her through the trees and further uphill. Eventually Glinda stops. She bites back a growl and resists the urge to kick the nearest tree. She’ll never catch her like this. She’ll just have to let her go and find her again. The stream is still nearby—Elphaba will have to come back to it eventually, right?
The trees are thinner here, and the ground is littered with piles of boulders that are three times her size. Glinda wonders how high up the mountain she really is. She needs to look around and figure out exactly where she is. Maybe she’ll even be able to catch a glimpse of where the green girl ran off to. None of the trees are big enough to climb, though, so she settles for a rock pile.
The sun is dropping quickly, though it still hurts Glinda’s eyes every time she tries to look up the mountain. She scrambles up the pile, her boots and fingers scraping against the stone. It takes some effort to get high enough to look around. She immediately hates it. She feels exposed and she can’t stand straight without feeling as though she’s about to fall off. Still, she grits her teeth and forces herself to rise into a semi-crouch to look around.
Something rumbles above her, and she spins around to find the source of the noise. She can’t see anything but rocks, though, and she cautiously draws her dagger. Something isn’t right, but from this position the sun is blinding her and she’s probably in plain sight for this entire part of the woods. She needs to get down.
She takes a step toward the edge of the boulder, but the rumbling sound comes again. Glinda freezes. She can feel the rock pile shifting beneath her. Too late, she thinks of how quiet the Games have been so far, and how the Gamemakers have probably rigged every single mountainside in this arena.
Her grip on her blade tightens. She should have known better than to climb up here, but now it’s too late. The ground around her trembles and groans. Her boulder shifts forward, nearly throwing her off.
Move! Glinda thinks, although a part of her swears she hears it out loud, too. Her body takes over where her mind has frozen and she half-dives, half-rolls off the rock pile. She lands hard against the ground but doesn’t stop to check the damage. She scrambles to her feet and starts running in a random direction. Rocks shift and slide beneath her and she stumbles around more than she actually runs. Larger boulders start crashing down the mountain and Glinda has to bite her lip to keep from screaming as she jumps around dodging them.
Her foot hits the ground wrong and rolls. She cries out as she loses her balance and slides downhill, clawing at the ground to stop herself. Her ankle throbs, but she straightens it out and climbs shakily to her feet again.
Too late. She looks up to see one of the larger rocks coming down, heading straight for her. She doesn’t even try to move. She just stares, mesmerized, her dagger hanging uselessly in her hand.
When it hits her, it comes from the side, not head on like she was expecting. Two arms wrap loosely around her as she’s knocked to the side and downhill, and that’s when she realizes it isn’t the boulder that crashed into her.
She lands hard but on solid ground, the bag on her back cushioning her a little. Whoever pushed her lands on top of her but rolls with the impact. Her dagger flies from her hand, and the thought of being unarmed near another tribute is the only thing that gives her the strength to roll over and, groaning, push herself up to her hands and knees.
“Hell and Oz,” a voice says. It’s shaky and thick, but familiar. Glinda’s eyes widen. “What were you thinking?”
Slowly, Glinda looks up and over at the tribute who just saved her life. Kneeling just a few feet away, scowling so fiercely that Glinda’s heart jumps to her throat, is none other than Elphaba Thropp.