Chapter 6
Glinda flinches as the sunlight hits her. No matter how many times Morrible left the door to her room open during training to let the light in, it doesn’t prepare her for light from the sun directly hitting her.
Glinda’s wings flutter restlessly behind her, her clothes are new, she’s better fed and trained than ever. Like things always are during public outings. It’s always overstimulation then back to the dark confines of her room, her measly diet, and her gruelling training. She doesn’t know which one she prefers.
“Smile.” Morrible’s voice hisses, and Glinda is quick to comply, plastering on a smile, watching and listening to the crowd go wild. The sun is blinding, and it’s too loud out here. Every single sound seems magnified echoing around her head. It’s a different kind of torture in and of itself.
Still, she blinks the spots out of her vision and waves at the crowd through her migraine. She has an image to maintain, after all — the mutilated victim of the Wicked Witch of the West, Oz’s sweetheart, and the object of pity to many.
“You do a good job today, and you will be rewarded, embarrass us, and you shall be punished.”
Morrible’s words echo around her head, forcing her to go through the motions. And as curious as she is about the reward, she dreads the punishment much more. Dread keeps her safe, curiosity doesn’t.
“Miss Glinda!” A tiny voice says softly, but her ears pick up on it. It’s quiet, and Glinda wants to cry because the person who said it probably doesn’t even realise how much that means to her.
She tries to locate the owner, and finds a young boy standing shyly. He gazes up at her, and a moment of fleeting warmth fills her chest. He blushes and ducks his head, holding out a pink rose. Glinda’s hand trembles as she takes it. “Thank you.” She says, and the boy looks up. Glinda’s smile turns genuine for the first time in years. “It’s beautiful.”
“Pink goes good with green.”
When she turns away, and continues walking, though Morrible remains behind her, a sliver of warmth remains with her, as well as the rose tucked into the folds of her dress.
Morrible hand touches her shoulder, leading her forward. She doesn't know whether she wants to flinch or lean back into the touch. Try as she might, she can never imagine it as the touch of the person she wants it to be.
Instead of doing either, she steels herself and moves forward once again.
***
Elphaba looks down at the celebrations, her heart clenching painfully in her chest.
Even through the crowd, she’s radiant. Glinda leans down and takes the flower from the little boy. It had been a gamble, using magic to make the flower appear in the boy’s hand, but seeing the soft smile on Glinda’s face is worth it. She looks… peaceful.
Elphaba frowns when Morrible places a hand on Glinda’s shoulder, leading her away, Glinda’s face disappearing from view once again.
She’s settled on the roof of one of the buildings, short enough to see the celebrations, but tall enough to hide her from view. Her broomstick would be too conspicuous so she didn’t bring it. She slowly inches to the side, trying desperately to catch up with Glinda, trying to see her face again. Glinda’s face may have been burned into Elphaba’s mind, but her memory doesn’t begin to compare to the real thing.
“You know that’s a bad idea, right?”
Elphaba jumps, before turning to glare at the black Bird. Corvex simply grins and hops down to stand next to her. “Of course, you’re here.” She grumbles. Why wouldn’t you be?”
Corvex ignores her, and continues. “They’ll spot you if you try to follow her.”
“I don’t care.” She grits out.
“So what is this?” He asks. “A ploy to take her out?”
She meets his glimmering black eye. “None of your business.” Elphaba almost forgot. She is public enemy number one, while Glinda is Oz’s sweetheart. Their images are painted to be opposites.
“Because if it is, it’s a terrible plan.”
“If you’re simply going to ignore me, why bother talking to me in the first place?”
“It’s more interesting.” He says casually. “Besides, your answers are so vague and flippant, I can barely abide by them. You’re not very fun company.”
She now understands how Fiyero and this Crow found each other. Talkative idiots must attract each other. The Crow is so much like Fiyero, it’s funny.
“Then leave. Go find Fiyero.”
“You think the Captain of the Gale Force being seen talking to a Bird is going to do him or me any favours?” If the Crow had eyebrows, she is sure he would be raising them right now.
She refuses to admit that he made a good point, though, so she keeps quiet.
The Crow’s face turns serious. “Don’t follow her. It’s not worth it.”
Elphaba looks at him, a scheme forming in her mind. “Alright, I won’t.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
It’s Elphaba’s turn to grin. “Because you will.”
***
Glinda feels a distinct prickling at the back of her neck that she cannot seem to be able to ignore.
She looks up at the sky, which remains clear apart from a single black bird, circling above her. That isn’t normal, is it? Do crows just do that now?
Then it swoops towards the roof of a building, disappearing from view. It makes Glinda wonder, for a brief moment, how she looks when she flies.
Then Morrible is there, once again, disrupting her thoughts, and leading her forward.
Despite that, she can’t shake the distinct feeling of being followed.
Glinda stares at the deserted streets, now lit up by streetlights. She’s surprised Morrible has kept her out here instead of steering her back immediately after everyone was asked to leave.
Morrible walks in front of her briskly, and Glinda struggles to keep up. She doesn’t dare question her.
Her answer comes soon enough when they reach an even more deserted part of the City, the lights completely turned off. It doesn’t take long for Glinda’s eyes to adjust.
“Now, Glinda.” Morrible’s voice comes from the darkness. “Remember our training?”
“Yes, Madame.” Glinda answers quickly.
“Good.” She says. Even in the darkness, Glinda can see the Wicked glint in her grey eyes. “It’s time to put it to use. You’ve served as good bait so far. Now, you shall serve as the predator. You are a bird of prey, Meadowlark, never forget that.”
Confusion swirls through Glinda’s mind, but before it can consume her, Morrible brings two fingers to her mouth, blows out a sharp whistle, and Glinda’s mind goes blank.