Page 31 of Search for the Lost

There was a weird vibration in the air, like a motor running somewhere far away. It would have made the hair on Leo’s arms stand up, except that Crispin’s body didn’t have any. He lacked body hair completely, in fact, which was sort of strange, now that Leo thought about it. Except he didn’t have time to think about it, because Crispin was holding Thea in his free hand and staring expectantly at her screen. “Anthor, please,” he said, the same way a polite person might give a destination to a cab driver.

“Why would anyone want to go there?” Thea said. “How about Zidoruta instead? They’ve got those great beaches.” She started playing a tune involving steel drums.

Crispin’s reply was, well, crisp. “This isn’t a vacation. We’re searching for mothers.”

That shut her up for a moment. “I don’t have a mother.”

Because Thea sounded forlorn, Leo spoke up. “You have a motherboard, though, right? That’s sort of the same thing.” He didn’t know anything about computers or AI or whatever Thea was, so he hoped what he was saying was true. Or at least comforting.

“Oh! You’re right. Thank you, Leopold.” Her face onscreen lit up in a smile. “We’re off to Anthor, then.”

As usual when moving from one world to another, Leo briefly felt as if he were in a free-falling elevator and had left his stomach somewhere on the 47th floor. Sparkly lights flashed, so bright that he saw them even when he squeezed his eyes shut. His ears popped. The air smelled of burned popcorn and wet wool.

Then his knees folded and he landed hard on top of Crispin, while Minkis squawked indignantly and Aspin crashed to the ground beside them. It took a few moments for everyone to catch their breath and get back on their feet, by which time Crispin had begun to shiver violently from the raw wind sweeping over them. Leo felt the cold too, but it didn’t bother him, nor did Aspin seem put out by it. Maybe fae were immune to frigid temperatures. Humans weren’t, though, and poor Crispin was trapped in Leo’s human body.

“C-c-cold.” Crispin’s lips were turning blue.

The three of them stood outside—as did Minkis, but he was wrapped around Crispin’s neck, hopefully providing a little warmth. The ground was mostly flat, covered with dried grass dusted by grayish snow. The sky was an unremitting gray. A few small, hard snowflakes blew around, but it was impossible to tell whether it was actively snowing or these had just been swept up by the wind. There were no trees, no buildings, no other shelters. No signs of life at all. No more color than an old black-and-white TV transmission. The only break in the monotony was a mountain ridge straight ahead—Leo couldn’t judge the distance—its jagged peaks rising like broken teeth.

“Told you we should have gone to Zidoruta,” said Thea.

She had a point: a tropical beach sounded awfully nice at the moment. Leo imagined warm sand between his toes and hot sun on his shoulders, the scents of sunscreen and coconut, the sound of waves gently kissing the beach. He’d be holding a glass containing a rum-and-juice concoction and a paper umbrella. And of course Crispin would be there, back in his own body, wearing— What did fae wear for swimming? Leo couldn’t picture Crispin in Speedos or board shorts. Maybe he simply skinny-dipped.

“C-c-c-cold!” Crispin repeated emphatically. “I d-d-don’t l-l-like this.” His teeth chattered audibly.

Leo took off his tweedy suit jacket and helped Crispin into it. It was a bit too small—in fact, they heard at least one seam rip—but it would provide at least some insulation. And then, to everyone’s surprise, Aspin untied his gold-embroidered velvet cloak and hung it on Crispin’s shoulders. Minkis had to temporarily move out of the way so that Aspin could tie it; Crispin’s fingers weren’t steady enough to manage. The cloak—or maybe it was a cape; Leo was shaky on the distinction—even had a hood, which Crispin pulled over his head.

Seeing that Crispin still looked miserable, Leo pulled him close. “If that wizard guy’s so smart, why didn’t he find Crispin something appropriate for the weather here?”

Aspin shrugged. “Perhaps he is unfamiliar with Anthor’s climate. You might have mentioned it, however.”

“Um….” Leo ducked his head in shame. “I forgot. It’s been a long time since Mom read me the book. I think she read it during the summer, when temps were broiling, so the cold part didn’t fully register with me.”

Aspin was back to glaring, and Leo really couldn’t blame him. Had he been able, he would have glared at himself. He was considering whether it would help to give his shirt to Crispin as well, when Crispin stomped a foot. “Let’s get moving! I’ll turn into an elfiscle if we don’t. Where are we going?”

That question was aimed at Leo, who had to consider for a moment. “Um… the castle, I guess? It might be up there.” He pointed at the mountains.

Although he wasn’t at all sure that this was the correct destination, it was all they had to go on, and they certainly couldn’t remain here. So they set off walking at a quick pace, with Leo and Aspin flanking Crispin as partial windbreaks.

“Was your story about wizards as well?” Crispin asked after a time. “Or ageless children?”

“I don’t think so.” Leo racked his brain for details. “There’s a girl, and her family is really poor, and she finds these white wild horses. Which are really rare, right? So she decides to sell them because her family needs the cash. But at the last minute she lets the horses go because she decides they need to be free. But then⁠—”

“I don’t understand horses,” Aspin interrupted. “Why would anyone want them when there are much better beasts to provide transport or haul heavy things? A flame-eyed greoksoth, for example, can⁠—”

Crispin elbowed his brother. “Let him finish. We need to know this.”

Leo waited a moment before continuing. Now that he’d begun discussing the story, he was remembering more about it. “So there’s a rich guy, a king or a count or something, I forget, and he’s a real bastard. Treats everyone badly. He lives in a castle on a mountain. Miserable weather happens, the girl worries about the horses and spends some of her last money to buy them some food. But then she can’t find them, and she learns somehow that the nasty rich guy has taken them away. So she sets out to rescue them.”

“Does she have to trudge the entire way in the cold?” Aspin sniped.

“Part of the way, yeah. And she doesn’t complain.” Leo didn’t mention that because she’d been alone, there was nobody for her to complain to.

“Does she get eaten by something?” Aspin asked, sounding hopeful. “Erm, let’s see…. Sharks, perhaps? Kangaroos? Those are Earthian creatures, I believe.”

“She didn’t get eaten.” Leo tried and failed to picture carnivorous kangaroos.

“That’s a shame. Your Earthian stories are so tiresome. You people haven’t any imagination. You have children traipsing in dreadful weather on behalf of useless creatures, and the predators don’t even have enough initiative to hunt them. The beasts are probably too sated on… what do you call it? Ah, junky food. Earth’s boring as well. And all of your films are either sequels or remakes, and your music⁠—”