Page 34 of Search for the Lost

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it,” Leo said as he returned from removing the upright sword from the ground. He looked at Crispin. “Are you sure you want to give it back to him?”

Crispin nodded. “Mr. Firefur here was just doing his job. Isn’t that right… Tad?”

Tad put his hat back on and nodded rapidly. “Oh most certainly, my Lord.” He took his sword back, immediately sheathed it, and stood a bit straighter. “Thank you for your forbearance.”

“So… can you maybe take us to your… Regent’s castle? I assume it’s a bit warmer there?” Crispin ended that last sentence with a hopeful lilt. The surrounding cold had resumed its intrusion on their little Chaos bubble.

Behind them, Aspin groaned.

“Oh certainly. I’m sure, most assuredly, that dead King Reginald⁠—"

“Kinky Leathersword… yeah, we got it.” Leo put his hands on his hips and glared at their new friend.

He’s so cute when he’s annoyed.

“I’m sure the King’s Regent will provide suitable accommodations and repast for these honored guests.” His eyes sparkled. “We’ve never had visitors of your stature, my Lord.”

“Never?” Crispin’s shoulders slumped a bit. He’d been hoping his mother might be there. Well, maybe they’d find Leo’s instead. “Say, was there a faun through here recently? Handsome hooves, cute little antlers?”

Leo looked at him funny.

Tad scratched at his fuzzy chin, looking up and to the side. “Hmmm… yes, there was. About a day ago. Sent him packing.”

Crispin met Leo’s gaze. He was here. Leo nodded.

The cold was definitely creeping back in, sliding testing fingers up his pant legs. “Well, I suppose we should get going?”

Tad nodded. “That would be best. Ralph looks hungry.” He turned to scratch the nose of one of the horses. “You lot do know how to ride, right?”

Ralph? “Of course we do.” Crispin glanced at Leo, who bit his lip. “It’s not that hard,” he reassured him.

Leo blinked rapidly. “Um… okay.”

Crispin swallowed hard. Leo had never ridden a horse, he was guessing. And these were flying horses. “It won’t be hard at all.” Famous last words.

Fifteen minutes later, their mounts alighted on a wide slab of gray rock. Above them, an imposing gray castle went up and up and up, its foreboding dark entrance guarded by a wrought-iron grate.

Leo had finally stopped screaming. He’d held onto his mount—Norman—for dear life, as the elegant beast had swooped and gamboled through the sky, taking no more note of Leo than an unwanted fly upon his back.

Only after a firm scolding from Tad had the recalcitrant mount—“a flapping, manure-smelly death trap” according to Leo—finally settled into a calmer flight pattern. By then, Leo looked as white as his horse.

Aspin took one look at poor Leo and snorted. He had been perfectly fine on his own mount—Phil—and seemed not to spare one wit of empathy for Leo. Then again, Fae were famous for their riding ability.

Minkis popped his head out of Crispin’s sweatshirt pocket and tsk-tsked at the sight of poor Leo’s pale face. “Chaos man looks like snow man.”

“Be nice, Mink. He’s had a rough day.” Crispin rubbed the squirrel’s head between his ears and then slipped off of Ralph and ran to Leo’s side, prying his fingers away from Norman’s neck and helping him dismount.

Norman snorted his own opinion.

“Leave my poor guy alone.” Crispin pulled Leo close and hugged him tight, Leo’s cheek cold against his. “It’s all right. It’s over.”

“Please don’t make me ride the sky horse again.” Leo squeezed back. “I feel sick.” He let go of Crispin and ran to the edge of the gray rock, where he collapsed and proceeded to lose most of what he’d eaten earlier that morning in Ous.

Crispin followed Leo and knelt beside him, putting a hand on his back while his beloved emptied his stomach. At last he finished, and sat back, wiping his mouth on his shirtsleeve.

“Better?” Crispin kissed his cheek, ignoring the smell.

Leo looked up and nodded. “I think I’m done. Hope they have a shower.” He pointed at his soiled shirt.