Page 64 of Office of the Lost
Leopold
Leopold had been a lot of things over the past few days—a deer creature, a butterfly thing, a pet, and of course Chaos personified—but his least favorite incarnation was his present one: a statue slung over the shoulder of a guy who looked like he’d just stepped off a romance-novel cover.Oh, and Leopold was wearing nothing but a pair of discount-store boxer briefs.
Qylzryd was carrying Leopold face down, which meant that the captive couldn’t see much except the ground.First it was green and foresty-looking, then Juzir said something andzap!Now the floor was gleaming white tile.
Dammit.He recognized that tile.He was back at the Office of the Lost.
He’d been struggling desperately to Chaos his way out of this mess, but it wasn’t working.He couldn’t move.He couldn’t even make any sounds except for very muffled groans, and those sounded so pathetic that he gave up.He simply had to let Qylzryd schlep him down that endless hallway.
Jeez.If Juzir could zap them here, why hadn’t he taken them straight to… wherever their destination was?Leopold could have lived without the extra indignity of a long haul.Plus, this gave him too much time to think.He was worried about what fate OotL had in mind for him, and so he tried to distract himself with other topics.Like Crispin’s treehouse, for example.Leopold had liked it quite a lot, even if it was too tidy for his taste.And really, that was nothing a few piles of laundry and some pizza boxes couldn’t fix.Did they even have pizza places in the… what had Crispy called it… the Grapewoods?
No, that couldn’t be right.That was more like the place where Fromlith lived.
Greatwoods.That was it.He savored the small victory of remembering something important.
He could imagine himself staying there with Crispin, maybe finding some sort of job to pay his share.It would be cozy.But cozy in the best way, not in the real estate agent way that really meantsuper tiny.
But maybe Crispin was better off without him.Before they’d met, Crispin had been content with his job, his home, his squirrel.His perfecality score.Leopold had messed all of that up.Not on purpose, but it was his fault nonetheless.And the mess he’d made of Crispin’s family relationships?Leopold especially regretted that.Sure, Aspin was a turdbucket and their mother was… terrifying.But family was family, and Leopold knew how miserable it was to not have any.
This wasn’t improving his mindset, not one whit.And what is a whit, anyway?
“This guy’s heavy,” Qylzryd complained.As if Leopold had asked to be carried.
Juzir made a grunting sound.“You should have brought a cart.”
His porter huffed.“Nobody said anything about needing a cart.”
“Well, how did you think we were going to get him here?”
“I don’t know.I wasn’t the one planning things.I’m just hired muscle.”
“Exactly.”Juzir sounded smug.“Which is why you’re carrying him.”
Qylzryd didn’t seem to have an answer to that.Leopold was getting the impression that the guy wasn’t especially bright, which made him wonder why Crispin had dated him.Crispin didn’t seem like the type to go for pretty but empty-headed.After all, he was falling for Leopold, who was never going to grace the cover of a romance novel.
But wait.Leopold wasn’t exactly Mensa material either.WhatdidCrispin see in him?After all, Crispin was handsome, skilled at a lot of things, and had a mother who was genuine fae royalty, which probably made Crispin some kind of prince.He was someone who could date and reject hunks like Qylzryd.And yet here he’d been, claiming that he loved Leopold.Nobody had ever done that before.
Oh no.A thought had occurred to him, and it was so awful that he groaned again, not that it made any difference to his captors.He also felt a little queasy, and not just from the motion of Qylzryd walking.What if he hadmadeCrispin fall for him?Not by being charming or irresistible, but by manipulating him with his Chaos powers.Not that Leopold had intended to do so, but he also hadn’t intended any of the messes he’d made throughout his life.He hadn’t, for example, intended to kill his parents.
Maybe he didn’t always have the best moral compass, but he was absolutely certain that magicking someone into falling in love with you was capital-w Wrong.
“My leg hurts,” Qylzryd complained.To Juzir, presumably.“Where that rat bit me.”
“He’s a squirrel,” said Juzir.
“Well, thatsquirrelbit me.”He sounded like a five-year-old.
“He’s very small.He couldn’t possibly have done much damage.”
Qylzryd grumbled under his breath, and Juzir either didn’t hear or ignored him.
Leopold, for his part, hoped Qylzryd’s leg would fester and then fall off.He would have bitten the jerk himself, if he could have managed it.Chaos bites probably weren’t healthy for anyone.
At long last they stopped walking.Juzir knocked, presumably, on a door, and a muffled voice ordered them to come in.
Leopold recognized the voice, so when Qylzryd walked into the room and set Leopold upright on the floor, leaning against a wall like a roll of carpet, he wasn’t at all surprised to find Bidulla Krönk staring back at him.
They were in an office, it seemed.Bidulla sat behind a metal desk roughly the size of Rhode Island, in stark contrast to the heavy white stone desks in the main office.
