Page 30 of Search for the Lost

Leo shook his head. “They said Mom and Pop were beaten up pretty bad under the camel hooves.”

“What if they weren’t killed at all?” His mind was racing in an entirely undignified and unusual way. Chaos in action. This part of it wasn’t half bad.

“You think?” Leo’s eyes went wide. “That would be amazing. You are amazing!” He leaned forward and kissed Crispin.

It was strange, kissing himself—knowing it was his own lips pressed against Leo’s. And yet, the spark was still there, the magical thing that made them Crispold. Or Leopin?

They could figure out the whole couple-name thing—and the Anthor thing—in the bright light of day. Just then, he wanted Leo like he hadn’t in weeks.

He responded to his lover’s advances in kind, pushing Leo/Crispin back onto the mattress.

“Oooh, assertive Crispy. I like this version.” Leo grinned up at him.

Crispin shut him up with another kiss, and then began exploring this strange new territory with his fingers and lips and tongue. Leo purred beneath him, his naked chest heaving with excitement.

It turned out that Crispin didn’t need sleep all that much, after all.

10

Leopold

Aspin used a napkin to delicately wipe chartreuse dordlefruit juice from his lips while also glaring daggers across the table. Leo had to hand it to him—he might be a pompous, egotistical ass a lot of the time, but he was also an excellent glarer. “But we’re supposed to be looking for our mother!”

“We will,” Crispin replied. “We are. But now we’re also looking for Leo’s. I think she may somehow be the key to all of this.” Crispin wore an expression that would have been almost shockingly chirpy on his own face and was pretty damn weird on Leo’s. Neither of them generally did chirpy. But last night’s bedtime adventures had seemingly done wonders for Crispin’s mood, and now he was so far out of his funk that he was even smiling pleasantly at his brother.

Leo’s mood was pretty good too, for that matter. Yes, things had taken a turn for the weirder, but that was nothing new. Leo was acclimated to weird. He could appreciate that he’d had a really nice tumble with his beloved, and that sex was extra fun when you knew exactly where every one of your partner’s erogenous zones were. And he knew yours. Plus, new ones! Who knew that getting your ear licked could feel so good?

After that, there had been a good sleep in the oversize bed, followed by a huge breakfast. Every single item on the breakfast table had been some shade of green, which was sort of taking the theme too far. But Leo didn’t mind because it tasted so good. Also, if he overate, it wasn’t his body that would put on a few more pounds. Bonus!

On top of all that, there was now a possibility that his mother wasn’t dead. It didn’t matter to him at all that she wasn’t his biological mother. She and her husband had taken him in and had treated him as well as if he’d been born to them, and they’d done their best to raise him despite all the troubles he’d inadvertently caused. Because they’d exited his life so abruptly—nobody expects to be trampled by camels—he never had the chance to say good-bye. He wished he could tell one or both of them how much they were loved and appreciated.

Not that Aspin cared. He pointed his knife at Crispin. “It was a dream. We don’t change all of our plans just because someone has a dream.”

Crispin threw a lime-colored bread roll, neatly impaling it on Aspin’s knife-point, which was impressive to everyone in the room except Aspin. When Crispin spoke, he sounded much more patient than he probably felt. “First off, we don’t actually have any plans beyond finding Mother and getting home in one piece, both of which can be accomplished alongside the new goal. And second, you take dream advice all the elfing time. When we were young and one of Mother’s paramours gifted me with a unicorn-drawn carriage, didn’t you take it away from me because, you claimed, you dreamt that I was going to accidentally ride it off a cliff? And haven’t you missed every single one of Minkis’s birthday parties because the dream spirits told you not to go?”

Minkis, whiskers-deep in a bowl of green acorns, chittered indignantly, and Aspin had the grace to at least look embarrassed. “Well… I might have exaggerated a bit about the, erm, content of my dreams. Just a tiny bit.” He looked away.

“Well, I’m not exaggerating. I dreamt about Leo’s mother, and we’re going to find her.” Crispin crossed his arms and silently dared Aspin to defy him.

And, miracle of miracles, Aspin wilted slightly and stopped arguing. He even ate the roll off his knife.

As soon as they’d all eaten their fill, which took quite a while, Wizard Sourman appeared and ushered them out of the banquet hall and down a long corridor. It was like a hall of mirrors, except instead of glass, the walls were covered in enormous green jewels. It was pretty, Leo supposed, but it gave him a minor headache. Also, he was low-key suspicious of anyone who made ostentatious displays of their wealth. If they were so great, why did they feel the need to prove it to everyone?

Finally they arrived in a small, circular room that was blessedly not green. It was pretty much plain, in fact, with a gray stone floor, windowless white walls, and a very high conical ceiling. There were several large wooden crates in the room, but no furniture.

Aspin looked around, his nose slightly wrinkled in distaste. “It could use some tapestries. And a nice rug or two.”

“We don’t spend time in this place,” said Sourman, looking put out over the critique. “We use it for Connecting. Which will occur”—he pulled a small hourglass from one pocket, squinted at it, and stuffed it back—“in one minute and forty-six seconds.”

Leo, who wasn’t especially fond of transporting between worlds, grabbed Crispin’s hand and held tight. Minkis was already wrapped partway around Crispin’s neck like a chubby scarf, and Aspin moved closer too, not quite touching but almost.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Crispin said to the wizard. “The food, the beds, and the mended clothing.” It was almost like new, except that the mending had obviously been done with green thread.

Sourman beamed. “It’s been a pleasure. Just remember to leave us a good review, please. We get so few visitors due to being disconnecticated, you see. Every review helps.”

Leo whispered into Crispin’s ear. “Where are you supposed to leave reviews?”

“Yelf, of course. Now hush.”