Page 14 of The Great and Terrible

“Your hair is lovely. Reminds me of sable silk.”

“But your poor, abused hands!”

“I’ve never seen eyes like yours. A mix of amber and emeralds, with rings of lighter and darker shades in between.”

Blushing from the wealth of compliments, I interjected, “Why was Tandi sent to the chopping block?” Had she done something? Broken a law? Or had Henry simply tired of her?

“She fell in love with a delivery boy,” the redhead said, massaging my scalp, and dang that felt good.

“Such a shame she’s gone. I liked her.” The blond bit her bottom lip. “But if I’m being honest, a part of me envies her the escape, tragic though it was.”

The other choir members twittered their shock, scandalized by her admission.

“What?” the blond demanded. “Every time Mr. West or his son go on a crimen spree, they come back crueler.”

Nodding and murmurs of “so cold” ensued. Apparently, it was a truth that couldn’t be denied.

Cringing inside, I rubbed the spot over my heart. Would I become crueler, now that I’d experienced a crimen? I moaned when the blond began massaging my shoulders. Mmm. My eyelids slid shut. I hoped she never stopped. “What are your names?”

“I’m Lulu. This is Gladys, Buttercup, and Elaine.” She rinsed the soap from my hair. “Tandi was from the otherworld too. A storm brought her here.” The others shuddered at the word “storm.”

I reacted as if I’d made contact with an electric socket. “Did Tandi ever mention the state of Kansas? Ozworld, to be specific.”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Gladys replied, and the others twittered their agreement.

Maybe I’d come across her at some point? I poured through memories for any hint of Tandi. Preschool, junior high. High school. Two years of college. Nothing. “How long did she live here?”

“Oh, six months or so. More than anything, she longed to return home. The Guardian could’ve helped her, but Henry threw her lover in prison and threatened to kill him if she ran.”

The others paused to sigh dreamily. “The Guardian.”

“He’s so, so great.”

“But also terrible.”

More dreamy sighs. “Beyond powerful. Deliciously handsome.”

Jasher had mentioned this infamous guardian, too. “If—”when“—I run from the Wests, will I acquire a crimen?” Best to be informed.

“That depends. Did you agree to be a substitute?” Buttercup asked.

I’m willing to pay her debt. But in return for my extreme generosity, she must agree to muck my stable.

Do you accept, Moriah Shaker?

Yes. I’ll work off those silvers, no problem.

“I did,” I croaked.

“Then yes.”

The queasiness returned to my stomach. “There must be a way to escape without dying.”

“There is,” Gladys offered. “If Mr. West or Henry release you from your verbal contract.”

It wasn’t the best news, but it wasn’t the worst, either. I turned the conversation back to the source of help. “Tell me more about this guardian guy.”

Sunny smiles broke out.

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