Elphaba Burning Broom

The Witch pulled Dorothy back to the corridor, and stuck the end of her broom in a torch fire. Nanny was hobbling up the stairs leaning on Chistery, who had some dishes of pudding on a tray. 'I locked the whole lot of them in the kitchen until they stop their roughhousing,' Nanny was muttering. 'Such a hubbub, such a racket, such a wild rumpus, Nanny won't have it, Nanny is too old. They're all beasts.'

Below, in the dusty recesses of Kiamo Ko, the dog barked once or twice, the lion roared and pounded against the kitchen door, and Liir shrieked, 'Dorothy, we're coming!' But the Witch turned and shot out her foot, and toppled Nanny over. The old woman rolled and slid, oohing and woohing, down the stairs, Chistery chasing after her in consternation. The kitchen door had burst its hinges, and the lion and Liir came tumbling out, falling over the big heap of Nanny at the foot of the stairs. 'Up, you, up,' shouted the Witch, 'I'll have done with you before you have done with me!'

Dorothy had wrenched herself free and dashed up the corkscrew stairs of the tower ahead of the Witch. There was only one exit, and that was to the parapet. The Witch followed in good speed, needing to finish the deed before the Lion and Liir arrived. She would get the shoes, she would take the Grimmerie, she would abandon Liir and Nor, and disappear into the wilderness. She would burn the book and the shoes, and then she would bury herself.

Dorothy was a dark shape, huddled over, retching on the stones.

'You haven't answered my question,' said the Witch, poking the torch up high, releasing spectres and ghosts among the shadows of the castellations. 'You've come hunting me down, and I want to know. Why will you murder me?'

The Witch slammed the door behind her and locked it. All the better.

The girl could only gasp.

'You think they're not telling stories about you all over Oz? You think I don't know the Wizard sent you here to bring back proof that I was dead?'

'Oh, that,' said Dorothy, 'that is true, but that's not why I came!'

'You can't possibly be a competent liar, not with that face!' The Witch held the broom up at an angle. 'Tell me the truth, and when you've finished, then I'll kill you, for in times like these, my little one, you must kill before you are killed.'

'I couldn't kill you,' said the girl, weeping. 'I was horror-struck to have killed your sister. How could I kill you too?'

'Very charming,' said the Witch, 'very nice, very touching. Then why did you come here?'

'Yes, the Wizard said to murder you,' Dorothy said, 'but I never intended to, and that's not why I came!'

The Witch held the burning broom even higher, closer, to look in the girl's face.

'When they said ... when they said that it was your sister, and that we had to come here . . . it was like a prison sentence, and I never wanted to - - . but I thought, well, I would come, and my friends would come with me to help. . . and I would come.. . and I would say..

'Say what,' cried the Witch, on the edge.

'I would say,' said the girl, straightening up, gritting her teeth, 'I would say to you: Would you ever forgive me for that accident, for the death of your sister; would you ever ever forgive me, for I could never forgive myself!'

- Wicked, Book 5