Page 56 of Office of the Lost
Laughing.He’s laughing.Maybe it was some kind of nervous breakdown.Bidulla had inspired those in the past, on occasion, driving more than one curator out of the job sobbing and—at least once—rending their own garments.But laughter?“Um, Leo?Trying to make a point here.”
“It’s just… she looks… have you ever seen Bugs Bunny?When he dresses up like an opera singer with that Viking helmet and the long blond braids?”
And indeed, Bidulla was changing, her skin turning a fluffy gray with patches of white, her tusks shrinking and her two front teeth elongating, her long brown braids turning a cheery yellow.
“Leo, stop it,” Crispin whispered out of the side of his mouth.“Nothelping.”
Leo grumbled and Bidulla snapped back to her old, ogreish self.
Crispin wondered whether the changes Leo made to the world were permanent or if they would wear off when he went somewhere else.What if he changes me?What if… he already has?
He’d been part deer, part moth, maybe part dinosaur, and he’d assumed it was caused by the strange journey they were on.But what if Leo had done it?What if he changed how I feel, too?
It was not something he had the luxury of worrying about right now.
Bidulla, distracted, stared at her once-again-brown tresses.“What in the Dark Eye of Pothos was that?”
Crispin took advantage of her distraction, shoving Thea into his pocket and grabbing Leo’s hand.“Take me home.”He’d scooped up the pile of acorns on his desk when Leo wasn’t looking, and now he just needed to be somewhere safe.Somewhere familiar.“Can you do that?”
Leo’s eyes met his.“I… think so.Can you picture it, really hard, in your head?If you do that, I think I’ll have less chance of screwing it up.”
“What are you two up to?Crispin, it’s not safe to let this little piece of chocolate run around unhindered….”
She’d actually said “chocolate” that time.He was sure of it.“I’ll file all the reports when I get back.”That was all he could promise, and it would have to do.“Now, Leo.”
“Buckle your seatbelt.”
Crispin pictured his home, the beautiful old oak tree with the little round windows spilling out golden light, and a big blue door, welcoming him home.
The world dissolved as the Necessary Room lost shape and color, and the last thing he saw was Bidulla’s face.“Curator Moss’caladin, stop that at once, or I’m filing a Form 739w on your sorry little desk fae a?—”
Then everything was gone, including Leo.
Consciousness came back to Crispin in dribs and drabs.First he heard birdsong, littletweetsandpowitssomewhere far above.
Next, he felt something hard and sharp—and cold—poking into his back.
He moaned and shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, only to encounter something equally annoying pressing into the other side.
He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the green filtered light.
A forest.He sat up quickly, then wished he hadn’t.His head swam, little butterflies cheerfully making the rounds just at the edge of his sight.
He took a deep breath, taking in the familiar wet, loamy scent of the forest.My forest.
His stomach settled, followed in short order by his head, and he looked around, finding the source of the sharp pointy things that had bedeviled his back.The toes of Leo’s boots.
“Leo!”He scrambled over the moldering leaves that comprised the forest floor.His earlier worries that Leo might have changed him felt petty now, contrived.Ungrateful.Leo had saved him again.Saved them both.Whyshouldn’tCrispin have feelings for his Chaos Man?
Leo’s eyes were closed, his face pale.“Leo, are you all right?”
No response.Crispin checked his pulse.It was strong enough, but clearly something was wrong.
He looked around.He knew this place; he was home.Not inside his tree house, but close.To the left was the babbling brook whose soothing sounds put him to sleep at night.To his right, the tiny meadow where the fairies danced under the silver moons.And that meant….
A delighted chittering greeted him.
“Minkis!”
