The Great and Terrible (Out of Ozland #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Out of Ozland Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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“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.



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