Page 16 of Office of the Lost
Leo rolled his eyes but did the same.
“Say,” Fromlith said, “your mother doesn’t happen to be Cerillia Ailedrin Moss’caladin, by any chance?”
Was it his imagination, or did the giant shudder a bit when he spoke her name?“Why yes, she is.”Apparently Crispin wasn’t the only one in whom the Mother of Fae inspired fear.
“Ah, very good then.”Fromlith clasped his hands and looked down at the ground, over his shoulder, up at the sky—basically anywhere but at him.
“Fromlith.”
“Yes, Master Moss’caladin.”Still no eye contact.
“You’re not looking at me.”
“No, sir, I am not.”
“Why not?”Was the giant… afraid of him?
“Because your mother has let it be known, far and wide, that no one is to harm a hair on the head of her last-born son.Which is, apparently, you.”
Crispin growled.“Why that two-faced, not nice, mother freaking woman.”
“Who taught you to swear?”This time there was a definite twinkle in Leo’s eyes.
“My mother.Who, apparently, doesn’t trust me to take care of myself.”No wonder his job had been so easy.The Mother of Freaking Fae had laid down the law.Does she think so little of me?
There would be a reckoning when he got home.He promised himself that much.“Fromlith,” he said softly.
“Yes, Master Moss?—”
“Just Crispin, please, with my friends.”Thatsurprised him.Had he started to think of this possibly fae-eating giant as a friend?“Let’s agree that you’ve done your bit by not eating me, and move on from there, shall we?”
That wide half-a-cemetery grin split the giant’s face again.“Very good, little sir.”He knelt and held out his hands.“Might I give you a ride to the pond?It’s much faster than if you two walk your tiny people steps.”
Crispin shot Leo a look, and Leo nodded.
As the giant lifted them onto his wide shoulders, Thea again broke into song.
Leo grinned.“The Proclaimers.Your little friend there has some dope taste in music.”
Crispin frowned.How long would it take, exactly, to walk a thousand miles?
“Grab onto the ears, my friends.This is gonna be a bumpy ride.”
8
Leopold
When Leopold had been eleven years old, some do-gooder group had schlepped him and a busload of other foster kids to a C-list theme park for the day, apparently believing that a tomato-themed Ferris wheel would somehow make up for not having parents.It wasn’t really a fun experience.Rides kept breaking down while Leopold was waiting in line for them and once, memorably, while he was riding a roller coaster called the Zucchini Spiral.The employees had to call in a rescue crew for that one.
Eventually Leopold had wandered off from his group and found a quiet corner of the park where food wrappers and deflated balloons sat in sad little piles along the curb and a boarded-up hut bore a sign promising that an unspecified new attraction was coming soon.There was a single operational ride in that section—the Great Asparagus Escape—and it had no line.
Intrigued, Leopold had checked it out.
A short path set up the storyline, which involved joining asparagus spears in an attempt to avoid a beast that spat Hollandaise sauce.An incredibly bored-looking teenager strapped Leopold into a seat that was suspended by chains from the top of a tall green stalk.
Gears ground and the seat—and Leopold—ratcheted upward in a series of jerks.Leopold would have enjoyed the view if his stomach hadn’t started feeling queasy, a situation that didn’t improve when the seat began swinging wildly back and forth.Pretty soon it was all Leopold could do to avoid puking up the greasy burger he’d been served for lunch, and the recorded sound of the Hollandaise beast sloshing and bubbling hadn’t helped either.
When the ride finally ended, Leopold had staggered right into the search party tasked with looking for him.He’d promptly thrown up on the Head Do-Gooder’s shoes.
