Wicked: The Witch's Daughter #42

Instructions

Glinda's POV: I stood alone in one of the highest rooms of the palace, looking out over the Emerald City, but for once the sight of the shining towers and green streets did nothing to cheer me. Madame Morrible was free, and I hated knowing it. She had threatened Oz with her storms, and I had been forced to agree to her release because I couldn't risk innocent people being hurt just to put her back behind bars. Every time I thought about it, I felt more frustrated. I had spent so long trying to make Oz safer, and now the woman who had caused so much fear was walking freely through the city again. I clenched my hands together. "It's not fair," I muttered. I knew putting Morrible back in prison would be dangerous. If she carried out her threat, people across Oz could suffer, and I couldn't knowingly put them in danger just to satisfy my own anger. But that didn't make the decision easier. It only made it harder. A knock came at the door, and one of my attendants entered. "Glinda, the crowd has gathered in the square again." I turned around. "Again?" "They want to hear you speak." I sighed. Apparently, there were still people who hadn't made up their minds about Elphaba and her family. That meant I still had work to do. "Very well," I said. "I'll go." A short time later, I stepped into my mechanical bubble and operated the controls, guiding it toward the city square. As I arrived, I could see hundreds of people gathered below. Some looked curious. Others looked uncertain. A few still held Morrible's flyers in their hands. I stepped out of the bubble and faced the crowd. "Citizens of Oz," I began, "I know many of you have heard frightening stories about Elphaba. I know many of you have been told that her return means danger for all of us. But I am asking you to remember something very important: fear is not proof." The crowd became quieter. "I knew Elphaba long before the stories about her became what they are today. I knew her when she was simply a young woman who was trying to find her place in a world that had already decided what it thought of her. I watched people judge her because of her skin. I watched them assume they understood her simply because she was different." I paused. "And I know Fiyero as well. He did not stay beside Elphaba because he wanted to bring danger to Oz. He stayed because he loved her and believed she deserved the chance to live her own life." A few people murmured among themselves. I continued. "And then there is Kendra. She is sixteen years old. She loves books. She loves animals. She enjoys performing in school plays. She can be shy, and she can be curious, and she is still figuring out who she wants to become. She has spent much of her life being judged simply because her skin is green." I looked around the crowd. "Ask yourselves what that must have been like for her." The square became very quiet. "Kendra is not responsible for the stories people tell about her mother. She is not responsible for what Madame Morrible says about her family. And she should not have to spend her life proving that she is not the monster some people have decided she must be." I saw someone lower one of Morrible's flyers. "I am not asking you to blindly trust Elphaba. I am asking you to judge her by what she actually does. Judge Fiyero by what he actually does. Judge Kendra by who she actually is. Do not let fear make your decisions for you." After I finished speaking, there was a long silence. Then someone in the crowd called out, "But what about Morrible?" My stomach tightened. "Madame Morrible has made her position very clear," I said carefully. "And I have made mine equally clear. I will do everything I can to protect the people of Oz." I couldn't tell them the whole truth. I couldn't tell them exactly why Morrible was free. I couldn't tell them that the woman standing against me had threatened to unleash storms upon Oz if I imprisoned her again. But I could continue doing what I could. I could continue speaking. I could continue reminding people that Elphaba, Fiyero, and Kendra were people, not frightening figures on a poster. When I returned to the palace later that afternoon, I stepped out of my bubble and stood quietly for a moment. I was still angry. I was still frustrated. And I still wished there were another way to stop Morrible without risking anyone's safety. But there was one thing I knew for certain. I would not let Morrible's fear campaign decide how Oz saw Elphaba's family. If Morrible wanted to spread fear, then I would keep telling the truth. Perhaps I couldn't put her back in prison yet. But I could refuse to let her control the story.