The Great and Terrible: No Monsters Like Hers
The Great and Terrible: Chapter 4

The cart stopped abruptly. Patch and the boys stiffened as footsteps drew closer. I remained still, not even daring to breathe, rendered immobile by indecision. What should I do, what should I do? Snatch Patch’s vial and run at the first opportunity, possibly earning another crimen? Or wait and learn my new surroundings, risking execution on Mr. West’s behalf while attempting to earn the serpens-rosa legitimately?

Metal clinked, the lock disengaging. My heart pounded. Hinges creaked as the door opened. Sunlight spilled into the musty, dusty enclosure, shining a brighter spotlight on my dilemma. Decision time.

Baldman unlocked my chain, grabbed my waist, and yanked me out. He plopped me on a green cobblestone pathway near Mr. West, who remained preoccupied with a missing button on his jacket.

As the titleholder patted and examined the velvet, he reminded me of a cartoon villain. Wildly unconcerned, wholly ridiculous and overly confident. That he’d traveled to a market with a handful of death-proxies, and had used two of them, disgusted me on so many levels. He’d been prepared—probably even expected—to break laws, unconcerned by the innocent lives forfeited on his behalf. And mine.

Guilt pricked me, boring holes in my outrage, making room for distress. Though instinct demanded I bolt now, now, now, I bit my tongue and remained docile. Decision made. I must acquire more of Patch’s serpens-rosa and learn the best route for escape. Food, a canteen of water, a map of the land, and weapons wouldn’t be amiss, either.

“I know I sported the button before we left,” West stated. “Where could it be, Hogg?”

“I’ll have the carriage and bazaar searched, sir,” Baldman—correction, Hogg—promised while unlocking Patch, who slapped his hand. He scowled. “That’s ten lashes, girl. Want to go for twenty?”

Ten lashes for such a minor—and deserved—offense. Wow. Hakeldama was a subsection of hell, wasn’t it?

She climbed out on her own steam, not the least bit intimidated, and he scowled at her before working to free the boys.

Unease rippled through me, leaving deposits of frost. I scanned my surroundings while Hogg extracted the boys. Hmm. No homes or buildings nearby. Only a field of lime-colored flowers. Every time a petal floated on a light breeze, a new petal grew in its place. An overpowering sweet and sour odor saturated the air, turning each inhalation into a dream and a travesty. I waved a hand in front of my face.

The movement drew West’s attention, and his frown. “You remind me of someone. I thought it before, but I’m sure of it now.”

“Do I look like another sacrifice you’ve had murdered?” I snapped.

“Ah. That’s probably it.” His nonchalance threw fuel of the fire of my disdain. Not that he cared. He returned to searching for his missing button.

At my side, Patch muttered, “Welcome home, newbie.”

Hogg the henchman nudged me, a silent command to follow Mr. West, who mumbled under his breath about the condition of his beloved jacket. More consideration for an article of clothing than any person.

I stumbled over a rock. Between one shuffling step and the next, the scenery changed from a deserted landmass to an enchanted paradise, and I jolted. Oh, wow. The most magnificent mansion loomed at the end of a winding pearlescent pathway. High and sprawling, with a mix of rounded towers and pointed steeples, all varying shades of green. Sage walls. Mint columns. Jade window shutters. Pine roof.

I’d never been a fan of Braum’s story, but thanks to my hometown and the diner, I had an okay knowledge of the characters, plot and locations. “This must be what happens when the Lollipop Guild has a baby with the Emerald City.”

“Pipe down,” Hogg snapped, giving me a harder push.

I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, saying nothing else, deciding instead to continue my examination of the grounds. A sculpture of Mr. West topped a seafoam marble fountain in the center of a yard scattered with manicured trees the color of shamrocks, circled by flowers with petals that reminded me of crocodile skin. So he was a callous murderer as well as a narcissist. Good to know.

When the cobblestone path forked, Mr. West went straight. Hogg prodded me until I veered right.

“Ensure the new girl behaves. Brand her, clean her up, and bring her to my office,” Mr. West called without looking back. “Make sure she looks her best. She’ll be meeting Henry.”

Surely “brand her” didn’t mean what I thought it meant. “Who’s Henry?”

“Here are the rules,” Hogg said, clasping my arm and squeezing to ensure I paid attention. “Do what you’re told, when you’re told. If you run, breaking your word to act as Mr. West’s substitute, another substitute will die for your crime and you’ll be next in line. Because yes, you’ll be caught, punished and wish you’d died before you do, in fact, die. If your presence isn’t required in the house, you will stay here.” He waved to indicate the large green barn at the end of our path.

A muscle jumped in my jaw. Okay. Yes. Mr. West totally might have meant what I suspected. The man kept his substitutes in an actual stable. Why wouldn’t he burn his mark into human beings as if we were cattle? Looked like I’d be doing some fighting, after all.

Inside the structure, I discovered a hay-covered floor and twenty-five stalls, a few occupied by green horses, the rest inhabited by surprisingly upbeat people, both young and old. Like Patch and the boys, they wore potato sacks. I wasn’t looking forward to obtaining a fashion travesty of my own.

At the end of the corridor, a wide-open space housed two carts and various equipment.

“Well, well. West found a new toy for Henry,” an older woman called. She leaned over a wooden railing in a loft. “Even better, Patch has returned. You and the boys beat Tandi to the rear of the cart, did you? Gotta admit, I didn’t expect that. You’re scrappy, but she was mean.”

Who was this Henry everyone kept mentioning, and what did she mean, toy?

“Shut up, Nelva!” Patch swiped up a stone and tossed it, nailing the old woman in the chest. “You don’t know nothin’.”

Nelva’s scowl promised swift retribution.

Their interaction painted a clearer picture of what happened today. Hogg hadn’t picked a specific substitute; he’d just grabbed the one closest to the door. Perhaps Brunette—Tandi—had even wedged her chained body in front of the boys to the best of her ability. The only other viable option had been hanging on a pole.

No wonder these death-surrogates didn’t make friends with each other. They were caught up in a zero-sum game.

“Stop lallygagging.” Hogg tightened his grip on my bicep and hauled me into an office. An unexpectedly normal workplace with a desk covered in papers, a chair on each side, and a set of filing cabinets that lined the walls.

“Sit,” he barked, giving me a push toward a chair.

I obeyed, ready to get this over with. Although, maybe, finally, I might learn where, exactly, I’d landed. Was Hakeldama even located on modern Earth? The very idea that I’d traveled to another world or time or dimension struck me as absurd and yet…not.

My companion plopped into the seat behind the desk and gathered a leather-bound book and a feather pen. “Name, age, and village of birth.”

“Moriah Shaker. Twenty. Ozworld, Kansas.” No reason to risk a crimen with a lie. Hopeful, I asked, “Have you met anyone else from Kansas?” If a tornado had whisked me here, it might’ve done the same to others in the past. Though I scoured my brain, I couldn’t recall the name of the local woman who’d spurred the original rumors.

“I have,” he replied as he recorded my information. “I’m not surprised you hail from such a savage land. Your fellow Kansans were just as mouthy.”

I blinked at him. Savage? Wait. Others had been here! “What happened to them?” I rushed out, puffing up as excitement brewed.

“What else? They either died or got traded.” His indifferent tone deflated my internal balloon. “No more questions. I don’t recall giving you permission to speak. Give me your hand.”

What, they used fingerprint ID here? Willing to play nice for answers, I obeyed, offering my hand. But I didn’t stay quiet. “I’d like to read your logbook to search for names I might recognize. And that wasn’t a question but a request.”

“You may not.” He clasped my wrist and stamped white-hot iron into my palm. “No more requests, either.”

I screeched, unprepared for the flare of scorching pain. What the—He released me, and I snatched back my throbbing appendage.

A bomb of fury detonated inside me when I spotted the design seared into my flesh. OZ. As in…

No! No, no, no. “What does this mean?” I demanded.

Hogg motioned to a filing cabinet marked O-Z. The cabinet next to it read A-N. I worked my jaw as realization dawned. OZ referenced an alphabetical filing system.

“You belong to Mr. West now,” Hogg said. “Your actions are a reflection upon him, so you will conduct yourself with dignity and decorum at all times.”

“I belong to myself.” And I highly doubted Mr. West was known as a man of “dignity” and “decorum.”

Hogg continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “You are not to ever commit a crime.”

“What’s considered a crime?” I grated. “Give me a full list.”

“Lying, stealing, cheating, and everything in between.”

I sputtered for a moment. “And decapitation? Is that not a crime?”

“That is a sacrifice. Payment for a wrongdoing. Necessary.” He waved his hand when I opened my mouth to reply. “From now on, I decide your fate. Best you remember that.” He stood and rounded the desk. When he reached out to pull me to a stand, I slapped his arm away and rose on my own. He narrowed his eyelids, saying, “I suggest you behave, or things will not go well for you.”

No doubt his idea of “behave” was accepting any abuse he and Mr. West dished. At least he hadn’t arranged a whipping for me.

“Be thankful you aren’t with Mrs. East. Her substitutes beg to be traded to Mr. West.”

“A worse choice doesn’t make a bad one better,” I told him, the frost on my spine solidifying.

He rolled his eyes as if I spouted nonsense and strode from the office, expecting me to follow. Which I did. I had a mission. Study. Learn. Obtain. Go. Without causing the death of another sacrifice.

Ugh. How was I supposed to manage such a feat?

Only Patch met my gaze as I marched through the stable once more. The knowing sympathy I detected in the hustler’s eyes left me far from comforted.

Queasy, I asked, “Can you at least tell me about Henry?”

“Mr. West’s eldest son. He won’t force you into his bed if that’s what’s worrying you,” Hogg assured me. “His women are always given a choice.”

That statement did nothing to alleviate my nerves.

Hogg led me outside, along a different cobblestone path, and into the garden behind the mansion, where (green) bee houses abounded. A forest as eerie as the one near the chapel stretched beyond them. Using a door in back, we entered an ancient kitchen bustling with activity. At least fifteen sweating women chopped, stirred, and mixed a diverse assortment of foods. A massive wood-burning stove turned the space into an oven.

In seconds, sweat sheened me. I hardly cared, too busy eyeing the goodies, overwhelmed by hunger. Months had passed since I’d eaten a decent meal.

Hogg thrust me toward a girl frying sausages. “This is Moriah Shaker from the otherworld. Clean her up and take her to Mr. West’s office to meet Henry. But be careful. She’s a spicy one.”

Otherworld, he’d said. Did that mean what it seemed to mean?

The girl heaved a weary sigh and motioned someone over to finish the frying. She didn’t grab me, just stalked from the room, expecting my compliance.

I cast a final, longing glance at those sausages and followed. We traveled through a series of doors and down a flight of steps, into an underground chamber with rocky walls and a bubbling spring. Four women my age congregated there, wearing sparkling bathing suits, chatting and laughing. They ranged in sizes and colors. From the palest white to the darkest black, each a bona fide beauty.

The waters called to my deepest depths. How long since I’d taken the time to relax and swim?

Upon noticing me, everyone went silent.

“Moriah Shaker from the otherworld, meet Mr. West’s house choir. They sing at every meal and other times too. Both Wests are home, by the way,” the servant informed the bath babes. “You’ll be summoned for duty as soon as Henry’s snack is served. But first, the newcomer must be prepared. House choir, meet Moriah Shaker, the new Tandi no doubt. I’m told she’s spicy.”

“I’m really not. Spicy, I mean.” To prove it, I unveiled my best waitressing smile and waved. “I’m just a weary traveler—” The servant shoved me into the water.

I came up sputtering with a rebuke on my tongue as my slippers sank to the bottom. But oh, wow, this felt nice. Like my favorite memories wrapped in a dream come true. While I tread, the burn in my palm faded. Any remaining muscle aches dulled. Even my hunger subsided.

Swimming to a shallower section, I looked around. The members of the choir were climbing out of the pool while the servant gathered a towel and a ridiculously sheer green genie costume from a shelf nestled inside a cozy nook.

Was I supposed to wear the slinky garment when I faced Henry? If so, Tandi’s role in his life was no longer a mystery. Unfortunately for Henry, I wasn’t on board with becoming a replacement mistress.

The bath babes collected an array of jars and returned to the water. “The newcomer must be prepared” now made sense, too. “I’m able to prepare myself, ladies.” And not for some guy’s sexual amusement.

“But we were instructed to help,” the redhead replied as the group surrounded me. In a matter of minutes, they stripped, soaped, scrubbed, and oiled me from top to bottom. Protesting did no good. The women were kind, but relentless.

Enveloped by an incredible fragrance of sugared cherries and sweet almonds, I finally gave in. Yes, I could have thrown elbows, but why bother? Better to save my energy for Henry West.

My companions twittered as they worked.

“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.

“Did I mention how handsome he is?” Elaine asked.

The others twittered their agreement.

“And he’s powerful. So brave!”

“Perfect even.”

“He’s the only one strong enough to survive the storms and escort otherworlders home,” Lulu added, “but he lives in the City of Lux.”

Finally! A rock-solid answer. “Where’s the City of Lux?”

“Over the river, through the woods, around the poppy glens and beyond the sands and minefields.”

I blinked. “Are you kidding?” The beauty was messing with me, right, quoting part of a nursery rhyme. Plus, poppy glens? Come on! Poison poppies were featured in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, too.

“We never kid,” Buttercup deadpanned. “Jokes can sometimes be considered lying, and lying is bad. But if you’re hoping to travel to Lux, don’t. Depart from these grounds without permission, and you won’t just acquire a crimen. Bounty hunters will give chase. If you evade them, you’ll have to deal with trappers. And if you can’t get around the poppy glens, well.” Color drained from her cheeks. “You’ll die badly.”

Hunters, trappers, and poppies, oh my. No matter the danger, I must, must, must get to the City of Lux. And I must do it as soon as possible with some of Patch’s serpens-rosa in hand. “This river. Where is it?”

“The river isn’t far from here. A mere ten miles due south. You have only to exit West’s office, turn left, left, right, left, and you’ll make it to the garden. Nobody but the stablekeeper will try to stop you.” Elaine met my gaze, as serious as a heart attack. “But you should stay put. The Wests are awful, but the journey is worse. Oh, the stories I’ve heard.”

Patch must’ve broken my ability to trust the citizens of Hakeldama. Because why had the ladies given me such explicit instructions if they truly expected me to stay put? Did they want to get rid of me for some reason, but couldn’t admit it? “Tandi stayed and died anyway,” I pointed out.

No one responded. They were too busy looking behind me with an eerie mix of apprehension and excitement. “Is that…?” Lulu’s voice trailed off.

My brow furrowed as I followed their gazes with my own. A large bubble rose from the bottom of the pool, breeched the water’s surface, and popped, revealing a pink-haired, pink-skinned beauty wearing an elaborate headdress and seaweed gown. Beads hung over her forehead, creating the illusion of bangs. Shark teeth dangled from her ears.

“Water maiden,” the bath babes squealed in one accord.

Water maiden? Hmm. There were no water maidens in Oz. Well, not to my knowledge.

Moving with unnatural grace, the stranger glided to the shallow end, reclined, and leveled a fathomless stare on me. “Welcome to Hakeldama, otherworlder.”

Her voice. Eerie and melodic and soul-curdling. “Who—” what “—are you?” What was a water maiden, exactly?

“I am Iris the Good, granter of your greatest desire, at your service.” The beauty dipped her head in acknowledgement.

The choir piped up. “She’s so pretty!” “A good friend to have!” “A terrible enemy to make!” “I’ve never seen one in person!”

Iris waved to them, an irritated swipe of her fingers. “Go.”

The choir members squealed and rushed from the water, then the chamber, never looking back.

“Some would call me a greedy mercenary,” Iris said, swirling a finger in the water, causing greater ripples to lap at me. “Others might compare me to a much needed savior. But either way, I’m here to aid in your return. I promise you, Moriah, you’ll never get home without me.”

Home, the magic word. “You’ve caught my interest, I admit it, but you’ve also raised my suspicions.” I’d taken a few business classes, and I knew a scarcity tactic when I heard it. Buy now or lose this opportunity forever. “You want something in return, I’m guessing.”

“Always.” Iris canted her head to the side, earrings swinging back and forth. “But if you’d like, I’ll go away and give you a few days to experience all the Wests have to offer. After you’ve experienced their…hospitality, you’ll attempt to escape and fail. Then you’ll be punished and in no condition to make the journey to Lux for weeks and weeks. Perhaps months and months. I’ll return then, when you’re eager to hear what I have to say.”

“Now hold up,” I rushed out. Because yes, she’d called my bluff. I didn’t have weeks and months. Nor did my father. If she could get me home sooner rather than later, I had to act now. “What do you want?”

“When the time comes, I’ll demand a favor, and you’ll do it without hesitation. My fee is non-negotiable. I help you, or I don’t. You say yes to my terms or you say no. Which is it?”

Eighteen words. That was all the water maiden had spoken, and yet she’d wielded each with the precision of a sword.

“The clock is ticking,” she said in a sing-song voice. “In five seconds, I leave and don’t return for six months. Possibly a year. I can wait for what I want. Can you?”

“I agree to your terms,” I grated.

A gleeful smile spread. “Excellent. When you’re ready to leave, open the compass. Keep it with you afterward. It’s your ticket to the City of Lux.” The other woman climbed from the pool, sauntered to a bench, and crooked her finger at me.

I emerged and marched over, intending to replace a towel. But I’d fully dried from head to toe while walking. Another occurrence I couldn’t explain. “What compass?”

“Why, the one you’re wearing around your neck.”

My hand flew to my throat. I expected to replace nothing. Except… Gasping, I ran my fingers along a chain I hadn’t sported mere seconds ago. A rusted compass dangled from the center.

“No need to worry someone will steal it from you,” she said. “Substitutes are allowed to keep their possessions, and theft doesn’t happen in this world.”

As I reeled, Iris helped me into the barely-there genie costume picked by the servant. The low crop top, glossy panties and transparent pantaloons was made to entice, and I hated it. She anchored strappy sandals to my feet and braided my hair. Tasks the water maiden completed in a blink, moving at a dizzying speed I failed to fully track.

“What kind of favors do you usually demand?” I asked.

Iris smiled. With a wild glint in eyes of the deepest magenta, she said, “When you are released from your contract, you’ll have a three-minute head start. No more, no less.” Of course, she mentioned nothing about the favors. “Remember my words.” She kissed my brow—and vanished.

I blinked, searching the chamber for her, and suddenly found myself standing before a pair of elaborately carved doors. Reeling…

What just happened? Where was the pool?

Heart pounding against my ribs, I pushed inside and scanned my new surroundings. Another office. This one reminded me of a mythical fortress with gritty medieval harshness tempered by opulence. Dark green panels covered the walls. Display cases held fancy weapons I wished I could steal. A light sage marble floor complemented antique furnishings carved from wood stained a deep jade.

Two velvet chairs perched before a crystal hearth and—oh, dear heaven! Two massive, winged beasts flanked it. They were hideous, and they were an exact image of the monsters I had obsessively sketched and painted most of my life. The ones my mother had described in her bedtime fairytales. Creatures of unfiltered rage and unbridled hatred, covered in molted fur, with crimson eyes and fang-filled snouts. Gnarled wings stretched over their shoulders, the tips sharper than any dagger. Thick claws extended from bony fingers and twisted toes.

Breathe. Just breathe. They could be real. But what if they were? Did that mean…was it possible… Prickles of dread and confusion sped over my nerve endings. Had my mother visited this land? At the very least, she’d known someone who had.

I clutched the too low bustline of my top and backed away.

“Ghastly, aren’t they?”

A man’s voice. Unfamiliar. Stiffening, I spun to face the speaker. He sat behind an elaborate desk with bees carved throughout the wood. Leaning forward, he abandoned the shadows to enter the light.

He was more beautiful than Jasher, and he was smiling at me, revealing a mouthful of perfect pearly whites. Thick dark hair framed the kind of face I’d dubbed “lady killer” on campus. Bedroom green eyes with heavy upper lids. A nose that could serve as the perfect after photo for any plastic surgeon’s portfolio. Lips most people must envy. Strong jaw as flawless as the rest of him.

He wore an emerald suit, with a starched white undershirt. Henry West?

“Honestly?” I replied, acting as though I hadn’t spent the past few minutes examining him. “They aren’t the worst thing I’ve encountered today.”

“Ah, yes.” He lifted a letter opener I longed to confiscate, pressed the tip against his index finger and lightly twisted the metal around and around. “Attending a public execution for the first time can be jarring.”

Among other things. “What are they?” I motioned to the creatures. The word ‘dreadful’ had been used to describe my drawings, but such a tame description failed to do the in-person incarnation justice.

“They are called monstra,” he said, “and they are what come in the storms.”

I wondered if Mom had called them monstra, too, but I’d heard monster. She’d described the creatures so feared, they turned ordinary villagers into a bloodthirsty mob. Not drawn by storms, not in the stories, but fear and greed. My chest hollowed out.

“I’m Henry West, by the way. And you are Moriah from Kansas.” He set the letter opener down and waved to the cushioned chair on the other side of the desk, then poured himself a glass of something—shocker—green. A plate of frosted desserts topped a stack of folders. “You aren’t our first otherworlder, so I know how confused you are. I’m happy to clear up matters.”

With a last glance at the beasts, I eased into the seat. I had business to attend to.

Leaning back, he swirled the ice in his glass. “If you have questions, ask.”

Refusing to be intimidated, I did to him what I’d done to my dates. Stared him down until he shifted in his seat and tugged at his collar. Well. At least my effect on males hadn’t changed. “How do you live with yourself, knowing people are killed on your behalf?”

“How do you?” he countered, and I narrowed my eyes. “I’m told you stole an elixir from a hardworking vendor.”

“I intended to repay him.”

“Ah. Intention. The enemy of many a good deed,” he said. Up close I noticed the frost in his emerald irises. Not as much as the executioner possessed, but somehow worse. “A substitute died to stop a storm you caused, just as others have died to stop mine.”

Perspiration moistened my palms. I had no argument. “What is it you plan to do to me?”

His grin reappeared and widened. “That depends. Are you a good girl or a bad girl?”

Oh, no. We weren’t playing that game. “I would rather lose my head than my dignity.”

“You’ll change your mind, my pretty.” He smirked, his eyes glittering with challenge. “Your kind always does.”

“My kind. You mean those you have the power to help but only harm?” Disgust surged to the forefront. I suspected that, to him, women were merely dolls to break and discard. More heartless than Jasher.

Now why’d I have to go and think of him again?

“Exactly.” The governor’s son drained the contents of his glass, then selected a cookie from the plate. As he bit into the treat, he watched me as though he hadn’t a care. Finally, he stood and leisurely closed the distance to crouch before me. “One day, I believe you’ll even thank me for it.”

Unnerved, I reached up without thought and clutched the water maiden’s compass. My eyes widened as her words replayed inside my head. When you’re ready to leave, open the compass.

“I’ll give you a choice.” Henry dragged his knuckles along my arm, purring, “Amuse me tonight, or deliver Patch’s lashes. To start.”

So, climb into bed with him or harm the girl with healing grains. Had Patch suspected the choice that would be presented to me and sought to garner my good will? Not that it mattered either way. I wouldn’t do it. I had expected to stay a few days, learn the lay of the land, and gather supplies, but here and now, that plan changed.

Deep breath in. Out. Then, I did it. I opened the compass, ready to hit the bricks. Staying here, even for a night, came with a price tag I refused to pay.

A puff of pink smoke curled from the compass’s insides and wafted to my companion’s nostrils. He jerked and mumbled, “The Wests hereby release you from your contract,” as his lids slid shut. He crumbled onto the floor, unconscious.