Page 20 of Search for the Lost

Crispin poked him, not very gently. “What were you trying to say?”

“I don’t know. Just that this place is weird. It’s not… not textually consistent.”

“It’s the opposite of that,” Cypher chimed in.

“Yeah.” Leo sat up. Thinking seemed easier that way. “It’s like someone took all the thought soup in my brain—your brain now, Crispin, sorry—and poured it out. Does that mean it’s my fault?”

Now Crispin sat up too, and he put an arm around Leo’s shoulders. “I don’t think so. If anything, it’s mine. Or maybe both of us. Perhaps when our essential selves get muddled up too much, whisking Order and Chaos too forcefully, this is the result?”

“Like oil and vinegar,” said Aspin, who apparently had been paying attention after all. “But you know what? No matter how much you blend them, they’ll eventually separate again. And in the meantime you’ll have a rather nice salad dressing.” He smirked. “I’m quite an accomplished cook, you know.”

Crispin and Leo gaped—not at the bragging, which was par for the course—but at the almost-compliment that Aspin had paid them. He’d implied that they were good together, which was by far the nicest thing that Leo had ever heard him say. This place is truly strange.

Too soon, Crispin announced that they should get going again. He and Leo helped each other to their feet and their party resumed the climb.

They made it to the top, but barely, before Leo collapsed. He and Crispin both had to take another break, hands on thighs and their lungs sounding like freight trains. When they’d recovered enough to take a proper look around, Leo gasped.

Oz—or whatever the hades version was called—was gorgeous. All technicolor streets and shimmering spires, with tiny, lush gardens tucked between bright houses and storefronts. There were a fair number of pedestrians around, and they represented a dizzying array of species, but none of them paid any attention to Leo and his companions. Well, except for a being that resembled a chihuahua-size mushroom, which pointed at Crispin and said, “Look, parent, a human!” At which point the larger mushroom replied, “I told you, Grgxshnl. Humans aren’t real. Now come on,” and dragged the little mushroom away.

Leo was slowly spinning around, taking it all in, when Crispin grabbed his elbow to stop him. “Where do we go now?” Crispin, Aspin, and Cypher stared at Leo, waiting for an answer.

Leo wasn’t used to that and wasn’t used to being in charge. Hell, most of the time he was barely in charge of himself. The experience was intimidating but also gratifying. It meant he was useful—potentially useful, at least. It meant that others saw value in him. Especially Crispin, whose bushy Leo-eyebrows were raised expectantly.

“I guess we have to see the wizard,” said Leo.

His companions nodded as if this made perfect sense.

Cypher cocked his head. “Where is this wizard?”

Leo was going to say he didn’t know. But then he spied a building that was more ostentatious than the rest. Which was saying a lot, considering that most of them were covered liberally in emeralds. But this one was tall and somewhat narrow, with a gently rounded top. Its entire height was sparkling green, and its base was surrounded by thick bushes with spiky leaves the exact hue of the Starbucks logo.

“I bet he’s there.” Leo pointed. “Inside the giant penis.”

“That is not a penis,” said Cypher.

“It totally is. It’s more phallic than the Nebraska State Capitol, which my parents once dragged me to during a road trip.” That outing had ended prematurely, after two flat tires, a completely unseasonable hailstorm, a misprinted map, a mild case of food poisoning, and the longest stretch of road construction known to humankind. All of which were probably due to Leo’s own chaotic influence, now that he thought about it. Well, nothing to be done about that now.

He patted Cypher’s shoulder. “It’s no big deal. People who want to feel important often build humongous dicks. Or sometimes they build boobs instead. My country’s capitol is a big boob.”

Maybe Cypher would have argued the point some more, but Crispin made one of his patented Crispin Annoyance Noises and stomped toward the Green Mega-Weenie. “We’re wasting time,” he grumbled.

Fair enough. Everyone followed him.

A pair of very tall, solid people in uniform guarded the building’s entrance. The uniforms were the same shade as the building, while the people themselves were shiny and silver with glowing red eyes. In fact, Leo realized when he got closer, they weren’t people at all, but rather robots. Awkward-looking robots, with bulgy limbs and poorly constructed facial features. “Halt!” they said in unison when Leo tried to pull open the ornately carved double doors.

“We’re here to see the wizard.” Maybe if Leo spoke confidently enough, the robots would let them in.

“State your name and business.” Unison again. Well, almost. There was a very slight lag for one of them, which made an obnoxious echo.

Since nobody else spoke up, Leo did. “I’m Leopold Lane, and we need to talk to the wizard. Right away. Please.”

“Leopard Lake, blizzards are in winter. It is not winter.”

He scowled and tried again, more slowly. “I am Leopold Lane. We need to talk to the wizard.” He leaned heavily on that W.

“Lee Bold Lay, toilets in this building are not open to the public.”

Leo growled, but before he could say or do something he’d probably regret, Crispin spoke up. “I am Crispin Eladrin Moss’caladin, son of Her High Fairyness Cerillia Ailedrin Moss’caladin and effective ruler of the Connected Worlds. We demand an audience with the wizard.”