The Great and Terrible: No Monsters Like Hers
The Great and Terrible: Chapter 24

I groaned as consciousness returned little by little. I blinked open my eyes, aware of small aches and pangs throughout my body.

A voice penetrated my awareness. “—need help?”

I frowned as I focused. A concerned older woman wearing a retro red dress stood over me.

“What happened? Where am I?” I eased into a sitting position and examined my surroundings. The wedding chapel. Wait. Memories surged, and I gasped. The same wedding chapel I’d ridden into Hakeldama. Only different.

So much had changed. A flowery archway replaced the podium, and red and white bouquets hung from the end of every cushioned pew. Dark shag carpet covered the wood floor. The walls gleamed with a garden mural.

How much time had passed since my disappearance?

My armor was gone. My swords, too.

“This is Heavenly Heights Chapel,” the woman said. “Are you hurt? How’d you get inside? The door was locked when I came in to prepare for the wedding, yet here you both are.”

Both? Jasher! I scanned…yes! There he lay, sprawled out between two pews.

Ignoring the other woman, I scrambled to Jasher and gently tapped his cheek. He better be okay. “Jasher. Wake up. Please.”

He didn’t appear injured. Well, other than the drop of blood staining his clothing. At last he blinked open his eyes, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Moriah?” With a soft smile, he reached up to caress my cheek.

I nuzzled his hand and returned the smile with one of my own. “You’re in the otherworld. With me.”

“Otherworld?” he echoed, frowning.

“I called for help,” the woman continued. “A doctor should be here any moment.”

A doctor…and police? Not good. Jasher had no ID. “We got caught in the tornado, that’s all. We’re fine now. We’ll be going.”

“What tornado?” she asked, wrinkling her brow.

Okay, so, enough time had passed that the citizens had forgotten about the tornado altogether. How to explain the blood then? “I apologize for any trouble we’ve caused you, but we’re fine,” I repeated. “I promise.” I helped a confused Jasher stand and noticed the lack of a certain ring.

No! Had I lost it? Or absorbed it again? A potential travesty to unravel later. “We’re leaving. No reason to involve others, especially medical professionals or authorities.”

Tinman wobbled on his feet, so I wound an arm around his waist. “This is truly your world?” he asked as I led him toward the exit.

“Yes. And we’ll discuss what happened when we’re safe at my farm.”

We reached the door just as a woman with rollers in her dark hair entered. I recognized her and ricocheted backward as if I’d hit an invisible wall of shock. My mother. My very pregnant mother.

My eyes widened, and my jaw went slack. “You’re…you…”

Queen Sandrine “Sandra” Ori-Emet Shaker stopped to meet my gaze. A soft smile of welcome fell into a frown of confusion. “Hello. Do I know you?”

I drank in the twenty-something beauty. Flawless skin bloomed with health. Hazel eyes glittered with curiosity. Delicate, doll-like features. Elegance all but seeped from her pores. She wore a plain T-shirt that stretched over her rounded belly and baggy sweatpants. Flip-flops adorned her feet. It was as far from royal attire as one could get. And yet, there was no mistaking her heritage. Confidence kept her spine straight and her shoulders squared, her chin tilted just so. Things I hadn’t noted as a young child.

“Moriah. Princess,” Jasher said. “You’re staring at the woman.”

Right. Yes. Unsure what to say, to do, but afraid I might upset a delicate balance of time and space, I blurted, “Excuse us,” then rushed around her and out of the chapel. Where I headed, I didn’t know. Cars sped along the roars—I ground to a halt in the middle of the parking lot as the sights registered. What… why… what?

Jasher gave chase. He stopped beside me and forced me to face him. Shock etched his features. “That was your mother. Your pregnant mother.”

“I know,” I rasped. “And this is Ozworld, my home, but not Ozworld.” I waved to billboards and businesses I remembered seeing as a child. All replaced, demolished, or abandoned by the time I grew into an adult. The shoe store where I’d gotten both tap shoes and sneakers. The ice cream parlor that was flattened in a freak tornado two springs ago. The Stewart house, a condemned home where teens partied now gleamed with a fresh coat of paint. Baskets of flowers hung from the porch railing.

“Look at me.” Jasher cupped my cheeks. Fading evening sunlight illuminated a face that would make me breathless all the days of my life.

“I don’t understand. It shouldn’t be this way.”

“We will figure this out, I promise.”

The comfort in his expression nearly proving to be my undoing. “I think…” I swallowed, clinging to him. “Jasher, I think we arrived in the past.”