Page 26 of Search for the Lost

“It’s one of the Connected Worlds. Cypher said he was going there. Hardly anyone goes there. There’s not much to see.” But why had he mentioned his destination? Did he want me to follow? And how did he manage it, if Ous was disconnected? Crispin sighed. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t get there anyhow. Ous is not a Connected World.”

“Ah, there I believe I can help.” The High King Wizard Sourman grinned, and Crispin tried hard to ignore the leafy green detritus between his tiny sharp teeth.

“How?”

“Once a month, on the night of the full moon, we become a Connected World for about fifty-seven minutes and thirty-three seconds. It was one of the clauses in our contract when we were disconnecticated, to allow for limited commerce between Ous and the Connected Worlds.”

“And when does this reconnection occur?” Crispin was not looking forward to spending another moment on this strange world, let alone thirty days. He braced himself for the worst.

“You’re in luck. The next connection will occur in”—he closed his eyes—“eleven hours and forty-three minutes.” He sat there for so long, entirely silent, that Crispin was worried he’d had a stroke. “Mark.”

Leo grinned. “Just enough time for a bath and a bit of sleep—and maybe some breakfast. You do have bathtubs, right?”

Crispin stared at Leo in disbelief. Breakfast? You want breakfast? If Crispin never ate again, it would be too soon. But a shower and a bit of rest in a real bed sounded heavenly.

The wizard stood and said briskly, “Of course we do. Follow me. I’ll show you to your rooms. It’s the least we can do after this losing-the-fae-queen debacle. I do hope you won’t mention that in your reviews.”

“Perhaps some new clothing?” Crispin looked down at his slight pot belly.

“Of course. Yours is being mended as we speak.”

Crispin followed Aspin and Leo out of the banquet hall. Cypher was right about one thing: they should have stayed home. But done is done. Time enough to worry about tomorrow, well, tomorrow.

8

Leopold

Leo looked around, hands on hips. “Well, it’s a nice enough room.”

“I suppose so.” Crispin had sat heavily on one of the beds as soon as they were inside, and he proceeded to stare at his feet as if they were fascinating.

Which they weren’t; Leo knew this for a fact since they were, actually, his own feet, and they were entirely unremarkable. Aside from a bit of chipped purple polish left over from the previous week’s attempt at a self-pedi, which had not gone well. That poor rug had moaned and groaned about the fact that it would never be the same.

Since Crispin’s own feet were equally unexciting, Leo decided to explore the place a bit. Their room was very large—probably the size of his entire Sacramento apartment, in fact. The wooden floor was covered in an assortment of rugs—none of them apparently living—and the walls were papered in an ornate old-fashioned pattern of green swirls and those little French accent things that he never knew the actual name of. Flour de Lees?

There were three beds, several dressers, and an assortment of other furniture such as chairs, bookshelves, and round tables. And, oddly enough, there were toys—which were also old-fashioned: dolls, building blocks, a jump rope, jacks, and a rocking horse as big as a real one.

In fact, now that Leo was paying attention, he noticed that everything in the room was oversize. Or maybe he and Crispin had shrunk to child-size. After Crispin’s little gianting exercise, that wouldn’t surprise him one bit.

At the moment, however, he had other concerns. Well, one concern, really, and his name was Crispin. And at the moment, Crispin, trapped in Leo’s body and wearing nothing but scanty rags, looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Leo sat next to him, not quite touching. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. I’ve only botched the new job, lost my body, lost my assistant, lost my mother, and dragged you and Minkis to an unconnected world on a ridiculous quest that has only a seven percent chance of success. Oh, and dragged my brother along for the ride too.” He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

Unsure which of those points to address first, Leo hesitated. “Crispin, you⁠—”

“Where is my brother?” Crispin glanced around as if Aspin might be hiding behind an armchair. “And Minkis? Don’t tell me they’ve disappeared too?” He sounded on the edge of panic.

“Calm down. They’re fine. Aspin is nearby, I think—the wizard said something about a masseur and Aspin jumped right on that idea—and Minkis is… scampering somewhere. Didn’t you notice when they peeled off during our walk here?” This was worrying. It hadn’t been a very long walk.

Crispin sighed loudly. “My apologies. I was distracted.”

“Understandable. Look, the bathroom’s over there. Why don’t you wash up and get into bed? We could use some rest. Or… something.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Crispin’s eyebrows were much wagglier than his own.

Now Crispin looked slightly horrified. “I don’t think I could…. Not when you’re me and I’m….” He waved his hands between them.

Leo caught his drift. “Okay, yeah, weird. But also possibly interesting?” It would be handy to learn firsthand how Crispin’s body reacted to certain things.