Page 70 of Office of the Lost

Time was hard to measure in this place, but at least several hours must have passed after that, with Leopold pacing the room and trying to flex his powers.As far as he could tell, nothing happened.Maybe the protective spell on this place was like defensive shields in a sci-fi movie, and if he pelted it hard enough and long enough it would be damaged and eventually disintegrate.That was a plan, anyway.Sort of.

His legs grew tired eventually, so he plopped down onto the couch.How would Crispin approach this problem if he were in Leopold’s place?Obviously, if it weren’t for Leopold, Crispin would never find himself in a situation like this.He would instead happily spend his life perfecting his perfecality score, hanging out with Minkis, and having occasional trysts with hunky men.

That reminded Leopold of Qylzryd, and a new wave of anger washed over him.That rat!That stinking puddle of slug scum!He had betrayed Crispin and kidnapped Leopold for no good reason other than money.At least Juzir had been motivated by concern for the fate of the world—and a destroyed bathroom, for which Leopold still felt a nagging sense of guilt.

Qylzryd was just a mercenary.Crispin deserved much better than that.

“Like me,” Leopold said sadly.Because if he were reunited with Crispin—and if Crispin still wanted him—Leopold would treat him right.He’d never sell him out for any reason.He’d listen to Crispin go on about obscure facts that nobody else in the universe cared about, and he would be happy to hear him.Leopold would remind him every day that despite Aspin’s bullshit, and despite his mother’s somewhat cavalier treatment of him, Crispin was amazing.And loved.

“I am not athingto be archived!”Leopold roared, leaping to his feet.He picked up the chair and rammed it against the wall several times, but neither the wall nor the chair showed any signs of damage, and eventually he dropped the chair and sank to the floor in defeat.He’d spent his entire life feeling like a screwup, but even causing disasters was better than causing… nothing.

He’d never felt so useless.

“Focus, Leo.”Saying it out loud helped a little.“Think like a desk fae.”Or like the Skipper.“Bamboo and coconut shells.What are your assets?”

He took a visual inventory and came up fairly short.He still didn’t have any clothing aside from his underwear.There were no windows, no doors.No way to communicate with the outside world.No?—

Wait.Maybe he couldn’t communicate with the world, but it had communicated withhimvia the television.What if he could do more than get cryptic advice from incompetent ship captains?Though to be fair, it really hadn’t been the Skipper’s fault.That storm had come up really fast….

Leopold switched on the set again.Static hissed for a few moments before the picture clarified.Ah.Another midcentury cishet male’s misogynistic fantasy about controlling a powerful woman.Only this woman—who also possessed magic—was more scantily clad than Samantha.

Wearing her culturally appropriated pink costume, Jeannie sat cross-legged on her purple couch, reading a magazine.She didn’t say anything, or even look up, so Leopold cleared his throat.

“Um, hello?”He would have felt stupid starting a conversation with the TV, except he’d been talking quite a lot to Thea lately and she was a broken cell phone.

Seemingly unsurprised, Jeanie glanced up.“Oh, hello, master.”

Oh gods.“I’m not your master.I’m not anyone’s master.Well, that’s not entirely right.Uh, if the other person is fully consenting.”

She laughed.“Of course I am fully consenting, silly.I am pretty powerful, right?I cannot do much here inside my bottle”—she waved her arms to indicate the curved, jewel-studded walls—“just as you cannot do much inside of yours.But when I am outside my bottle, I can do all sorts of things.If someone tried to be my master and I did not wish it, well, he would regret it very much.But sometimes I wish it very much.”She winked.

Lovely.There went another childhood memory, thoroughly ruined.

Leopold sighed.“Well, I don’t want to be your master.I just hoped maybe you could help me.”

Jeannie put down her magazine and laced her fingers in her lap.“Very well.I can try.”

That was something at least.“It’s just, they’ve trapped me here and I can’t get out.And I’m in love with an elf—well, a fae….”He still wasn’t clear on the difference.He’d have to ask Crispy about that when he saw him again.If I ever see him again.“But I’m worried about him.He’s got troubles of his own, which I sort of created.Family drama.I want to be reunited with him.Or at least know that he’s okay.I hate being stuck here.”

“I can understand that.I was trapped in my bottle for two thousand years.”

Leopold groaned.He was already going nuts, and he’d been here less than two days.And even if he could survive for two millennia, what about Crispin?Leopold had no idea of the lifespan for fae.

“Leo,” said Jeannie softly, “I cannot get you out of your room.”

“I didn’t figure you could.But I appreciate you listening to me complain.”He went to the couch and lay down, staring at the unremarkable ceiling.If all he could do was wallow in self-pity, well then, dammit, he was going to do a good job of wallowing.

“Although I cannot help you, that does not mean it is impossible.”

He didn’t bother turning his head to look at the screen.“Maybe not, but I’m not going to figure it out.I’m not a figuring-it-out kind of guy.”

“Then perhaps you should find someone who is.”

“Yeah,” he replied hopelessly.That would be Crispin.

It was possible that Crispin did still love him, and if so, it was also possible—likely, actually—that right this very minute he was working away at the problem.And if true, it was even possible that he would be successful.But man, that was a few too manypossiblesfor Leopold’s taste.Right now, he could really go for adefiniteor even aprobable.

“Thanks, Jeannie,” he said, because she’d been really nice.The TV went back to static, which was actually pretty soothing, so he left it on.It reminded him a little of pure Chaos.

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