Wicked: The Witch's Daughter #47

Instructions

Elphaba's POV: The cell in the Emerald Palace was quiet, far too quiet for my liking. Fiyero and I sat against the stone wall, both of us thinking about the same thing. Kendra. I couldn't stop seeing the moment she had flown through the window, my old broom beneath her and my hat on her head. She had looked frightened, but she had kept going. I was relieved that she had escaped, but that relief was mixed with worry. She was only sixteen, and although she had begun learning magic, she had never flown a broom before, and she had never been forced to run from people who wanted to capture her. "Do you think she's all right?" Fiyero asked quietly. I looked at him. "I hope so." He leaned his head back against the wall. "She was heading toward the Western Forest." I nodded. "I know." For a moment, neither of us spoke. I kept thinking about the forest. There were places there that most people in Oz knew nothing about. Places where I had once hidden when I was being hunted, places where I had learned to survive without anyone knowing where I was. Then I remembered my old hideout. Fiyero knew it well. He had visited me there before, back when I had been hiding in the forest, and he remembered exactly what it looked like. It was built high among the branches of an enormous old tree, almost like a nest woven into the tree itself. Twisting branches formed the walls and ceiling, while leaves and foliage helped conceal it from anyone passing below. Inside, there was a small sleeping area made from branches, places where I kept my books and belongings, and little spaces where I could work with magic. It had never been a grand home, but it had been mine, and it had given me somewhere to disappear when the rest of Oz was searching for me. "Fiyero," I said suddenly. He looked at me. "What?" "My old hideout." His eyes widened slightly. "The nest in the mother tree?" I nodded. "Yes. That one." He sat up straighter. "You think Kendra could find it?" "I don't know." I looked down at my hands. "But she was flying toward the Western Forest, and if she remembers anything I ever told her about the place..." I let the thought trail away. Fiyero was quiet for a moment, clearly remembering it too. "It's well hidden," he said. "Most people wouldn't even notice it from the ground." "That's what I was hoping." I looked toward the cell door as though I could somehow see through it to the forest beyond. "If she found it, she'd have somewhere safe to stay." Fiyero nodded. "And somewhere familiar. Especially if some of your things are still there." I smiled faintly. "I left quite a few things behind." I could picture the hideout clearly in my mind—the woven branches, the leaves filtering the light, the little spaces where I had kept my belongings, the places where I had spent countless hours reading and practicing spells. I hadn't been there in years, but I remembered every part of it. "I just hope she remembers that she doesn't have to be afraid of her magic," I whispered. "She was only beginning to understand it." Fiyero reached over and took my hand. "She'll remember what you taught her." I looked at him. "She's stronger than I was at her age." "She's your daughter," he said with a faint smile. "And mine." I smiled despite everything. "Yes. She is." A sound came from the corridor outside the cell, and we both looked toward the door. Neither of us spoke until the footsteps faded again. I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes. Somewhere beyond the Emerald Palace, beyond the city and its shining towers, Kendra was out there. I didn't know where she had gone. I didn't know whether she had found shelter. I knew Morrible's guards were still searching for her. But I knew the Western Forest. I knew the hidden places among its trees. And if there was one place I hoped my daughter might find, it was the old nest I had once made high in the branches of that enormous tree. Maybe, just maybe, she would recognize it. Maybe she would find my old belongings still waiting there and realize that she had found the place I had once called home. And if she did, she would have somewhere to rest, somewhere to think, and somewhere hidden from the people searching for her. All I could do now was hope that my daughter was safe. And hope that somewhere high among the trees, Kendra was finding her way home.