Chapter 11
She shakes Elphaba awake early the next morning. The green girl’s eyes flash open, but Glinda holds a finger to her lips, gesturing for her to stay quiet. They hold perfectly still as they listen to the footsteps move closer.
Glinda already has both daggers in her hands, and Elphaba rolls over and grabs her own from the ground beside her. Glinda can’t think of anywhere else to look—she can’t see much outside their shelter—so she meets Elphaba’s gaze.
Whoever is nearby is moving quickly, their tread quiet but urgent. Glinda holds her breath as the sound approaches their shelter. She hears someone panting softly. Next to her, the air starts to ripple around Elphaba’s free hand. A twig snaps, a low voice curses in a language Glinda doesn’t understand, and then the steps hurry on, fading away.
The girls are quiet for a long moment. Glinda tilts her head, her eyes still locked with Elphaba’s.
“Who…?”
“Fiyero, I think,” Elphaba breathes, sitting up. Glinda raises her eyebrows, doubtful. It had sounded too scared to be Fiyero. She opens her mouth to say just that, but Elphaba suddenly jerks forward and grabs her wrist, silencing her once more.
More footsteps—many of them—are coming toward them. Glinda’s eyes widen. They don’t need to hear the voices to know who’s approaching.
“This way!” calls a voice. Glinda doesn’t recognize it, though it’s distinctly Gillikinese.
“Forget it,” says Shenshen. “We’ll never catch him like this.”
The group slows down a little. Glinda catches sight of movement just outside their shelter and resists the urge to shrink back into Elphaba.
She hears Avaric curse and kick at the leaves. “Why didn’t you hit him?” he shouts at someone. “He was right there!”
“He’s fast!” Jeron’s voice is defensive. “I could have gotten him on the second throw, but he slipped away!”
Avaric mutters something under his breath.
“What did you say?” demands Jeron. “What did you call me?”
“Oh, what does it matter?” another boy says, cutting them off. “Who cares about him? I thought we were looking for the green freak.”
Elphaba’s fingers tighten around Glinda’s wrist, nails digging into her skin.
“Yeah, but we had him.”
“And now we don’t.” Shenshen sounds bored. “So what? Let’s just find someone. We’ve been here a week and have only found a couple tributes.”
A new voice cuts in—the Vinkan girl who joined their group. “Guys, he went this way.”
“You’re sure?” Jeron asks.
“Who cares,” says Avaric. “Let’s go.”
They take off again, their noises fading in the same direction as the first tribute. Elphaba slowly lets go of Glinda’s wrist, giving her an apologetic glance. After a long silence, Glinda speaks first.
“They’re chasing Fiyero?”
“Who else would be able to outrun them?” Elphaba asks. “I’m actually kind of surprised he got caught in the first place.”
Glinda leans back against the tree trunk they’ve built the shelter around. “Oz, that was terrifying.”
“Yeah. And they’re not even after you.” Elphaba’s grin is crooked.
“How can you be smiling about this?” she asks, shaking her head.
“Smiling is better than the alternative.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“Overwhelming panic.” Elphaba grabs her pack and starts making her way outside. “Let’s get out of here, preferably in the opposite direction.”
They hurry off into the still-dark forest, not even bothering to dismantle the shelter.
***
“I think it’s my fault.”
They’re sitting on the bank of a stream, far away from the events of that morning, the sun high and bright above them. Next to her, Elphaba is picking up pine needles and bending them in half over and over again. She drops her latest one into the clear water before glancing at Glinda.
“What is?”
“They saw me first.” Glinda clears her throat. “The alliance. They were chasing me, and I led them to Fiyero and Sarima.”
“Did you mean to?”
“I knew it was going to happen.”
“But did you mean to?”
Glinda shrugs. Elphaba throws another pine needle into the stream, and they both watch it get yanked beneath the surface and dragged downstream.
“We do what we have to do to survive,” Elphaba says eventually.
“Like save other tribute’s lives?” Glinda asks, raising her eyebrows.
Elphaba shifts around. “It’s not like you killed her.”
“I didn’t help her, either.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t kill her.”
That stings. She looks up at Elphaba, who looks almost as shocked by the words as Glinda is.
“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”
“I was still beat up from the rockslide. I couldn’t have taken them both.” Glinda’s voice is flat. After all, it only stings because it’s true.
“We do what we have to do to survive,” Elphaba says again. Glinda shakes her head.
“That’s not true. Boq stepped off his platform. You saved my life.”
“So?”
Glinda scoops up a handful of leaves and tosses them into the water. She scowls as they float away and rests her chin on her knees. “Did you ever care about the Games?” she asks, not meeting Elphaba’s eyes.
“No. The Games are sick.”
“Exactly,” Glinda says, nodding against her knees. “That’s the difference. I did what I had to do to survive. To win. You do what you have to do to…to…” To not play their game, to not be a puppet, to not turn into a monster. Glinda leaves the sentence unfinished.
“You’re not a bad person, Glinda.”
These words are even more surprising than the ones before. Glinda’s head twists to stare at Elphaba, but she’s looking down and away, her cheeks a darker green than usual.
Glinda’s eyes start to sting, and she’s suddenly aware of the Emerald City watching them. She lets out a shaky breath and shifts to kneel over the water, splashing water over her face. When she’s done, Elphaba stands and holds out a hand to help her up.
“Just remember,” says Elphaba, her voice light. “You didn’t kill me first.”
Glinda can’t help it. She smiles.
***
“Do you think he got away?”
They’ve been quiet all day, and Glinda’s voice feels weird in her throat when she tries to speak. Elphaba just shrugs, saying nothing.
“I mean, we didn’t hear any cannons, right?” she continues, wringing her hands. “So he must be okay.”
“Unless they got him and he’s just not dead yet,” Elphaba mutters. Glinda bites her lip.
“No, no, they wouldn’t do that. Avaric wouldn’t let someone get away like that.”
“You don’t think?”
“No. Either they got him or they didn’t. And we didn’t hear any cannons, so they didn’t. Right?”
Elphaba raises an eyebrow at her. Their eyes meet, but the green girl doesn’t seem to be able to offer an answer.
“Do you believe it?” Glinda asks.
“Believe what?”
“Him and Sarima. The two of them.”
Elphaba snorts. “Oh, I have no doubt that they’re engaged. If their families know each other, and they grew up together—I mean, that’s usually how these things work in the Vinkus.”
Glinda waits for her to go on—her voice makes it obvious that that’s not all she thinks—but Elphaba just stares ahead and keeps walking.
She follows her, looking up at the trees around them. She wonders how many cameras are around here, how many people are listening to their conversation. If they questioned Fiyero and Sarima’s relationship, how many sponsors would the Vinkan boy lose? Because he must have some support from the Emerald City. He’s handsome, he was good in the interviews, he’s a hunter, he can outrun the alliance—hopefully—and his relationship with Sarima was probably thrilling for the audience. Glinda imagines the two wandering around those first couple of days, playing up a romance for the cameras.
Or maybe they weren’t playing. Maybe it was all true. Glinda never paid that much attention to them. There could have been something between them. She gazes forward, watching Elphaba move quietly through the forest ahead of her, and thinks about it. What would it be like to go into the arena with someone you love—someone you’re in love with? How could you enter the Games, knowing that at least one of you isn’t going to make it out?
“Can you imagine?” she whispers.
“What?” Elphaba turns back, her forehead creasing as a shudder goes through Glinda. “Are you cold? It is getting kind of dark. Maybe we should—”
“We should find a better spot,” Glinda says, shaking her head and snapping out of her thoughts. “It’s too bare around here.”
Elphaba still looks concerned, but she nods and falls into step beside Glinda. “So…what were you saying?”
“Nothing,” Glinda says softly. “I was just wondering…what would it be like…how could anyone stand being in the arena with someone they loved?”
Silence is Elphaba’s response. She looks at Glinda, studying her, then looks ahead, then looks back down at her. She doesn’t say a word.
They stay quiet as they move into a thicker part of the forest. The valley is darkening around them, the temperature dropping, and pretty soon Glinda stops and looks around. She glances up at Elphaba, who simply nods and gets to work gathering branches for their shelter.
They don’t speak again until half an hour later, when, while lounging side by side against one of the trees, Glinda tears her remaining bread and offers half to Elphaba. Her mumbled thank you is cut off by the start of the anthem, and both girls raise their eyes to the suddenly glowing sky. Glinda tenses, waiting for the picture, but nothing appears after the Emerald City’s emblem. She lets out a slow breath.
“So he did survive.”
She hears Elphaba shift next to her. “That boy you killed,” she says carefully, “He was the last one to…”
Glinda nods. “It’s been quiet.” She looks down at the bread in her hands and forces herself to tear off another mouthful. “It’s only been two days, though.”
Elphaba makes a quiet sound but doesn’t pursue it. Glinda slouches further against the tree trunk. Two days without a casualty means the Emerald City will be getting impatient, which means the Gamemakers will be getting creative, which means…
Glinda stuffs the rest of her bread back in her pack and shifts up to her hands and knees. She swears she can feel Elphaba’s eyes on her as she crawls into the shelter, and it’s only a minute or two before the green girl follows her inside. Glinda is curled up and as comfortable as she’s going to get. She holds out the blanket for Elphaba, who slides smoothly into place beside her.
“I’ll take first,” Elphaba whispers, and Glinda hums softly in response. Elphaba turns around to stare out into the woods, and Glinda takes the chance to study her. She can’t see much with the dark and the shared blanket, but her gaze lingers on the pieces that have fallen loose from Elphaba’s braid, and the soft shine of her dark hair in the spots where little patches of moonlight hit it, and the sharp, elegant angle of her forehead, her cheeks, her jaw. Glinda can’t help but stare. And when her eyes are fluttering shut and she finally tears her gaze away, she can’t help but notice that the usual foot of space between them has narrowed to just a few inches.
***
Glinda wakes up on her own, immediately restless. She shuts her eyes and tries to drift back off to sleep, but her nerves quickly get the better of her, and she reaches forward to put a hand on Elphaba’s shoulder.
“You’ve still got an hour or so,” Elphaba breathes, turning just enough to see her out of the corner of her eye.
“I’m up,” says Glinda. She shifts onto her hands and knees and crawls rather ungracefully to Elphaba’s other side.
“Smooth,” Elphaba comments. Glinda scowls and pokes her in the ribs, earning a tired chuckle. She settles down again near the outside of the shelter, laying with her elbow planted on the ground and the side of her head supported by her fist. Behind her, Elphaba’s breath slows and deepens.
It must have snowed sometime in the night. Glinda peers out at the light dusting—it’s not quite enough to completely cover the ground, but it still glows a little in the moonlight. It’s pretty, too, but she all she can think about is how hard it will be to cover their tracks in the morning.
Speaking of tracks.
Glinda scoots forward and presses her face to the wall of the shelter, peeling back a clump of pine needles to look closer. Just a few feet away a trail of prints winds through the trees. They’re fresh, not covered by the snow, but Glinda doesn’t know what made them. They look like cat tracks, only much bigger. She’s never seen anything like it. She thinks about waking up Elphaba to ask her about it, but one glance backward changes her mind.
Elphaba is already fast asleep, curled tight with the blanket pulled up to her chin. Her lips are parted into a slight pout, and her eyelids flutter gently as she dreams. Glinda’s hand twitches, reaching to brush a lock of stray hair from Elphaba’s face, but she catches herself and turns back to the front of the shelter.
They don’t start moving until after the sun rises. The thin layer of snow starts melting quickly, but they still take care not to leave too much evidence behind in the soft ground. Everything about the arena seems still, and Glinda feels that same restlessness that was there when she first woke up. Elphaba must sense something, too, because neither girl talks much as the morning passes.
“I don’t like this,” Glinda says when they stop at a stream around noon. “It’s too quiet.”
“Maybe we’re just getting further away from everyone,” says Elphaba. She holds out a handful of berries for her.
“Maybe,” Glinda says, taking the food. She’s unconvinced, and she knows Elphaba is, too. “We should keep moving.”
They do, but the mountains ahead of them are getting ever so closer, and Glinda isn’t too eager to return to the rocky, unstable terrain. She doesn’t know she has slowed down until Elphaba turns to look at her.
“You okay?”
Glinda feels her cheeks grow hot. “Y-yeah. I just…I was just thinking…” She bites her lip. She wants to tell Elphaba that they need to turn around and go back, away from here, but the thought of admitting she’s afraid—not just in front of Elphaba, but for all of Oz to see—is unbearable. “The arena,” she says finally. “It has to end somewhere around here, right? What happens if we reach the border?”
Elphaba’s eyes search her face, but eventually she turns and looks up the mountainside. “It’s just a force field,” she says. “Unless you hit it with some power, it’ll just shock you.”
Glinda raises her eyebrows. “How do you know that?”
“I read it somewhere.”
“Where?”
Elphaba shrugs. “I don’t remember. Some random book I found in the library when I was bored, probably.” She notices Glinda’s stare. “What? I read a lot.”
“Of course you do.” Glinda rolls her eyes, then remembers the tracks she saw this morning. She tells Elphaba about it, and asks, “Do you have any idea what it was?”
“A mountain lion, maybe?” The green girl has gone slightly pale. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?”
“I just remembered.” Glinda looks around them. “I haven’t seen anything bigger than a rabbit here. Have you?”
“No,” says Elphaba. “But I bet you anything the Gamemakers have put something in here.”
“And it’s been quiet the last few days,” Glinda says slowly, “And we’re pretty far from all the other tributes.”
Elphaba visibly swallows. Her arm twitches at her side, uncertain, but then she reaches for Glinda, walking forward until they’re side by side again. “Shall we?” she asks, her voice steady.
She steers them toward where the trees are thinner. Glinda glances up at her, then down at the green hand on her shoulder. She reaches up and touches her gently. Elphaba jerks, as if just realizing where her hand is, but Glinda weaves their fingers together and doesn’t let go.
“How much danger do you think we’re in?” Glinda breathes.
“Normally I’d say not much, as long as we’re not intruding on its territory. Elphaba’s fingers jerk between hers. “But since we’re in the Games…”
Glinda gazes around. “Is there anywhere safe we can just camp out?”
“I doubt it. Our best bet is to be out in the open, where we can see it.”
She should probably let go of Elphaba’s hand, but she can’t bring herself to release the steadying grip. “So…there’s nothing to do but keep walking.”
Elphaba doesn’t respond, but her fingers tighten around Glinda’s. They do keep walking—for a long time, actually—and nothing happens. The temperature starts to drop as the sun sinks lower in the sky. Glinda is vaguely aware that they’re moving somewhat north, toward the center of the arena, toward the Cornucopia. It’s not the best plan of action, but she decides to worry about it later, when her senses aren’t straining to hear something, anything, that will indicate the predator that may or may not be stalking them.
She hears Elphaba’s breath catch, but the green girl keeps walking determinedly. Her hand squeezes Glinda’s so tight it starts to shake.
“Did you see…?”
“No,” Elphaba breathes. “But I feel like…”
“We’re being watched.”
“Yeah. Keep walking.”
Glinda does, but she brings her free hand up to rest on the set of daggers tucked into her belt. Next to her, Elphaba tenses. Glinda sees something out of the corner of her eye and pulls out one of the blades. Elphaba jerks forward, pulling Glinda with her.
Not far enough. Something catches her backpack, tearing her hand from Elphaba and knocking her over. She lands on soft, wet ground and her eyes screw shut. She feels heat and weight, hears a low growl, and pulls out her dagger. Her eyes are still shut and she can’t seem to open them, so she thrusts blindly, slicing through the strap at her shoulder.
Hands are grabbing her, pulling her to her feet as soon as she’s free from the pack. Glinda finally opens her eyes as Elphaba drags her back. The mountain lion is crouched low over her bag, facing them. Glinda can see muscles rippling and tensing beneath its fur. Next to her, Elphaba is trembling, the air starting to hum around them. Glinda pulls out her second dagger.
The cat jumps forward, and both girls push away from each other, leaping to either side. It hits a thin sapling behind them, its weight snapping the tree clean in half. The sound echoes sharply through the valley, but before Glinda can worry about it the cat is turning around to face Elphaba.
She thinks she screams as it leaps, but Elphaba thrusts out her hands, a wild blast of energy throwing the creature back. It lands in a heap, near Glinda, immediately rising to its feet again. She shifts her daggers in her hands and runs forward, driving them both into the mountain lion’s neck with a yell.
The cat jerks and hisses beneath her, but then falls still. Glinda pulls out her blades and climbs shakily to her feet just as they hear shouting. It’s too loud to be just an echo. Both girls whirl toward the sound and find themselves facing a clearing just through the trees. In the middle, a large, metal horn glints in the sunlight.
“The Cornucopia.” Elphaba’s voice shakes.
Glinda mumbles a curse and shoves one dagger into her belt. She grabs Elphaba’s wrist and drags her into a sprint just as more shouts go up behind them.
“Was that—?”
“It’s the green freak!”
“Glinda?!” If not for her terror, the incredulity in Jeron’s voice would be funny.
“Don’t let them go!” Avaric yells. Glinda lets go of Elphaba so they can move faster, but it doesn’t seem to matter. Within seconds small knives are whirling past them, too close for comfort.
We can’t outrun them, Glinda thinks. Not forever. Her breath tears in and out of her throat as she starts to panic.
“We need to lose them,” Elphaba hisses. Glinda looks up at her. “We can—”
She cuts off and skids to a halt. While Glinda has been looking over her shoulder and up at Elphaba, they’ve run almost straight into a cliff face. It’s only a foot or so taller than Elphaba and not very wide at all, but as Glinda grabs Elphaba’s hand again and starts tugging them to the side, it doesn’t matter. The alliance has already panned out around them, cutting off their escape.
The girls back up until their shoulders are nearly touching. Glinda’s eyes focus on Jeron, who stands closest to her, but he just grins and spins a blade in his hand. Her face burns. They’re already gloating, she thinks.
The hair on her arms stands on end, and she glances to the side to see Elphaba shaking. The air ripples and hums even more than before, and her fists have started to glow. Madame Morrible’s voice rings in her ears.
The energy surrounding her may have seemed intimidating, but it was simply her emotions manifesting themselves in a way she could not control, the mentor had said. She’ll destroy herself.
Glinda can handle herself, but not against six of them. Not when she also needs to protect Elphaba. Not when her eyes keep flickering over to the glowing light that is growing brighter around the green girl’s fists.
For a moment they just stand there, two against six, staring each other down. Most of the alliance is grinning, and she thinks she sees Avaric’s lips move, but she doesn’t stay still to hear him. Glinda lunges for Jeron, tackling him at the knees and forcing him down.
The chaos is instant. Everyone starts yelling as she and Jeron hit the ground. She sees Shenshen and the other Gillikin girl running toward her, but her focus is on Jeron. She grabs his wrist and shoves his hand into the ground, knocking the knife from his grip. She grabs it and twists around, throwing it at Shenshen. It’s not a good enough throw to hit her, but it flies close enough to force her to jump out of the way.
Jeron takes advantage of her distraction and rams his knee into her gut. He shoves her away and starts grasping at his waist for another knife. She hears Elphaba yell from somewhere behind her and forces herself to roll to her knees. Jeron leaps toward her just as she brings her dagger up.
He grunts and jerks, the knife in his hand falling harmlessly against her shoulder. Glinda shoves him away as the cannon sounds and scrambles back. Her head feels weightless, her mind spinning, and the only coherent thought she has is to wonder if Ama Clutch is watching.
Focus.
Glinda blinks hard to clear her vision. She has a split second to look around before anyone else reaches her. Elphaba is a few feet away, fighting an unarmed Gillikin boy. Shenshen is still climbing back to her feet, and the other Gillikin girl is staring at Glinda, her eyes narrowed into a glare.
But it’s Avaric who captures her attention. He stands between her and Elphaba, his sword still in his belt, looking back and forth as if deciding where to go.
The Gillikin girl and Shenshen reach her then, and Glinda is forced to turn away from Avaric. The Gillikin girl lunges at her, but Glinda ducks and slams an elbow into her ribs. The girl bends over, wheezing, and Glinda shoves her to the ground. She hears Shenshen yell and spins around just in time to block the ax swinging down at her. Shenshen pulls back, teeth bared, and tries again, but this time Glinda pulls out her second dagger and forces her into a defensive stance.
She manages to keep Shenshen back, but her gaze keeps darting toward Elphaba. The green girl is still standing, thank Oz, and she’s fending off the Gillikin boy and the Vinkan girl with a few shaky yet powerful blasts of magic. Glinda feels her strength surge—they just might make it out of this alive—and she kicks out, hooking her leg around Shenshen’s knees and shoving her down.
Shenshen’s ax falls from her hand and clatters across the ground. Glinda raises one of her daggers, about to stab down, but something stops her. Her pulse beats in her ears, Boq’s face swims before her vision, and she swears she hears Ama Clutch’s voice, calling her name, whispering a gentle good night. She lets out a ragged breath and, slowly, lowers the blade.
Rough arms grab her, throwing her back against the cliff face. One blade falls from her grip as she slumps against the rock, blinking away spots. She looks up to see Avaric looming in front of her. She tries to raise her dagger but he catches her wrist mid-swing and yanks the blade from her hand, throwing it to the side.
Panic grips her and she kicks out, but he grabs her face and slams her head back into the rock. She does her best to twist away, even as her vision blurs and her legs wobble beneath her, but Avaric is bigger and stronger, and she’s unarmed. Glinda sees the glint of a sword being raised in front of her, and she wonders if her face will look as peaceful as Boq’s did.
“No!”
Of all the horrible sounds of the arena, Elphaba’s scream is by far the worst. A blast of pure energy hits them, and she feels Avaric being torn away from her. She thinks a cannon goes off, but everything sounds like thunder in her ears. She hears shouting and sees, blurrily, the rest of the alliance running away.
Glinda tries to turn to find Elphaba, but movement is unbearable. She realizes that she’s collapsed on the ground. Her ears are still ringing, although she can hear Morrible’s smug voice: she’ll destroy herself.
Glinda blinks furiously, trying to clear her vision, to find Elphaba, but everything has gone dark. The arena falls silent, and she feels her mind start to drift away.
Suddenly there’s a new sensation, quite different from anything she’s felt here in the Games. Warm arms wrap around her, lifting her, cradling her, and it’s so gentle that Glinda is sure she’s already dead.