Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West (Wicked Years, #1)

by Gregory Maguire

The Princess said more. It had been years—more than a decade—since Elphie had been able to talk to an Animal. Who, Elphie asked the Princess, had enchanted her? But the Princess Nastoya wouldn’t say—in part as self-protection, for the death of the enchanter could sometimes mean the revocation of binding spells, and her curse was her safety. “But is life worth living in the wrong form?” said Elphie. “The interior doesn’t change,” she answered, “except by self-involvement. Of which be not afraid, and also beware.” “I have no interior,” said Elphaba. “Something told those bees to kill the cook,” said the Princess Nastoya, with a glitter in her eye. Elphaba felt herself go pale. “I didn’t!” she said. “No, it couldn’t have been me! And how did you know?” “You did, on some level. You are a strong woman. And I can hear bees, you know. My ears are keen.” “I would like to stay here with you,” said Elphaba. “Life has been very hard. If you can hear me when I cannot hear myself—something the Superior Maunt could never do—you could help me do no harm in this world. That’s all I want—to do no harm.” “By your own admission, you have a job to do,” said the Princess. She curled her trunk around Elphaba’s face, feeling its contours and truths. “Go and do it.” “May I return to you?” asked Elphie. But the Princess wouldn’t answer. She was tiring—she was an old old thing even for an Elephant. Her trunk went back and forth like a pendulum on a clock. Then the great nose-hand came forward and s...