By Gregory Maguire
Whereas civil battle looms in oz., Brrr—the Cowardly Lion—surrenders the tale of his existence to a tetchy oracle named Yackle. deserted as a cub, Brrr's course from infancy within the nice Gillikan woodland isn't any Yellow Brick highway. looking to redress an early mistake, he trudges via a swamp of ghosts, turns into implicated in a bloodbath of trolls, falls in love with a forbidding Cat princess, and avoids a prison sentence by way of agreeing to function a lackey to the war-mongering Emperor of oz..
A portrait of a would-be survivor and a breathtaking glimpse of a global long gone shrill with conflict fever, Gregory Maguire's A Lion between Men is written with the sympathy and gear that experience made his books modern classics.
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Extra resources for A Lion Among Men (The Wicked Years, Book 3)
He wrinkled his nostrils and sorted out the ribbons of odor. The pheromones of panic and anxiety (the young soldier舗s and the young Lion舗s, both). The salty sting of male sweat, and the cinnamony reek of human feces. Dried urine (faintly aphrodisiacal), dried blood (an astringent to the curled outer segments of Brrr舗s olfactory fissures). And mold, but not common leaf mold. This was mold on parchment that had been sized with bleaching. Brrr had few words for those apprehensions, which were nonetheless tantalizingly distinct.
I舗m neither a judge nor a jury. I舗m a witness. Tell me who you are, Sir Brrr, and how you got here. And tell me the truth. Then maybe I舗ll comply. You weren舗t already weaselly when you were young, were you? 舡 With elegant steps, looking sore of paw, Shadowpuppet paced to the legs of Brrr舗s chair and purred to be picked up. Brrr obliged. The cat calmed him down. Taking this deposition would be one campaign he wouldn舗t screw up. For the love of Ozma, wasn舗t he the equal of this crazy old coot draped in a tablecloth?
Those are impertinent questions to the academic issue at hand,舡 said the Doctor. 舠Still, the youthful heart bleeds easily. The mother, shall we say, died in a sadly timed explosion舰舡 Deposition of an Oracle 舦 1 舦 THE TIME came for her to die, and she would not die; so perhaps she might waste away, they thought, and she did waste, but not away; and the time came for her to receive final absolution, so they set candles upon her clavicle, but this she would not allow. She blasphemed with gusto and she knocked the scented oils across the shroud they舗d readied on a trestle nearby.