Between (The Chronicles of Between, #1)

by L.L. Starling

they had warned her that the place was bound to be a little old-fashioned (“Quaint,” said one, with a knowing smirk); a little isolated (“Just imagine the peace and quiet!” said another, with forced cheer); and exceptionally dull (“You can brush up on your quilting … and your jam-making … and your alcoholism,”

“Farmers are serial killers, except their victims are more cow-like. Or chicken-like. Or vegetable-like.”

Do you think Headmistress Dean is a strict disciplinarian—the elementary school version of a dominatrix?”

Her tone was so lacking in authenticity that it was practically the vocal equivalent of a fake tan.

a pale, miserable, wheezing woman who smelled—most regrettably—of menthol and martyrdom.

“Tea drinkers tell such lies. It’s a cult, I tell you.”

“It’s a sad day when even our dream men are troublesome.”

“Don’t you worry—we’re going to fix this. We’re going to disinfect the hell out of those scratches and put a cold compress on your burn. I don’t care if demons made them—they’re no match for science and industrial-strength disinfectant. We’ll get you some antibiotics and a tetanus shot. We’ll fix this.

Please, don’t take offense⁠—” “People always say that just before they are about to be particularly offensive.”

when it comes to charm, you are thinking of fairy tale princes, not fairy tale kings. Princes have nothing more to do than gallivant around kingdoms, wooing women, and drinking wine. Kings, on the other hand, are forced to spend their time in serious pursuits, like raising taxes, maintaining order, and kicking unruly citizens into swamps. It sours our temperament somewhat.”

“Fairy tale jerk, at your service.”

“Look at this place—it’s so normal, so ordinary. How could we have possibly known that it would all go terribly wrong?” “Midwest America,” Lyla said, as if that explained everything.

Once upon a time, there was a small kingdom filled with sunshine and joy. Its fields were abundant with fruit and grain, and its livestock was strong and hardy. Its people were good-natured and skilled in the ways of music and art, and its king was respected across the length and breadth of Otherworld. It was a place where people came from across the realm to feast on fine food, partake of sublime art, and bask in the light. Next door to that kingdom was Between.

The only renowned arts were what Betweeners termed the ‘practical arts:’ thievery, assassination, and spying (colloquially referred to as ‘procurement,’ ‘disposals,’ and ‘collection’ by their respective practitioners). These

“Why is it that when someone is going through a crisis, people feel the need to bring up someone else who is going through a different, objectively worse crisis?” Lorn muttered through his hands. “It is neither helpful nor comforting.”