Page 35 of Search for the Lost

“I’m sure they will,” he lied, helping Leo to his feet. But at the very least, an edifice that size was likely to have a bathtub or two.

He pulled Thea out of his pocket, determined to go into this castle knowing more than he had in the last one. “Thea, what is this place?” He held her up so she could scan the castle.

“It appears to be Eldermoor, the gray castle of Anthor.” Her screen shuddered. “You don’t want to go in there, boss. The Yelf reviews average a quarter star. The bed linens are abominable, the food is subpar, and the drafts… don’t get me started about the drafts.”

“Thank you, Thea.” He tucked her away before she could say something more and offend their host. Turning to Tad, he gestured at the forbidding iron grate that guarded the castle’s interior. “I hope you have a key?”

Tad opened his mouth to answer, but just then the grate began to lift of its own accord, with a horrid screech and a threatening groan. It receded ever so slowly, putting on a deafening aural performance that would have made a chalkboard blush in envy.

Crispin covered his ears until it ground to a halt.

Footsteps sounded in the dark entry hall. A voice called out to them—it seemed familiar, somehow. “Welcome to Eldermoor, Crispin Moss’caladin. I never thought I’d see you again!” She was looking at Leo, but it was Crispin who gasped when he saw who it was.

“You!”

12

Leopold

Leo was incredibly grateful not to be on a flying horse anymore. In fact, he devoutly wished he never had to get on one again. And now he was gross after puking, and he wanted to brush his teeth and maybe have some nice crackers to settle his stomach, and then maybe a bath and a little nap would be nice. He was a bit distracted thinking about all of this, and so it took him a moment to realize that Crispin and Aspin were both gaping widely at the woman in the hallway.

She was medium height and slender, with pointed ears peeking out from under long gray hair that looked as if it hadn’t seen a hairdresser in a decade or so. She had a narrow face with some comfortable-looking wrinkles and slightly saggy bits, and with gorgeous bone structure. Her clothing included a pair of violet yoga pants, a T-shirt with some faded letters in a language he didn’t recognize, and an oversize gray cardigan that had seen better days. Her feet were bare.

She stared at him expectantly, as if he was supposed to know who she was.

Oh, right. She thought he was Crispin. Leo periodically forgot that part. He stared back, unsure whether he ought to reveal his true identity; it was really awkward. Also, his mouth still tasted awful.

It was Aspin who finally rescued them all, although he did so by squawking rather inelegantly, “Aunt Uldreyin!”

She threw a significant look in the direction of Tad the cat, whose ears were perked forward with interest. “Solana,” she said firmly. “I’m Solana Omeriqelle.”

“No. Your attire is appalling, but I’m quite sure that you’re our⁠—”

“Solana Omeriqelle. Regent of Anthor.” She turned to Tad. “I’d like to confer with our guests in private. We’ll be in the Opal Hall. No interruptions.”

Tad bowed deeply. “Of course, my lady. Shall I stand guard outside? Then you need simply let me know should you need anything.”

“Fine.” She spun on her heel—her actual heel—and led them down a wide corridor with faded rugs on the stone floor and dusty portraits of stern-looking people hanging crookedly on the walls. Their little parade bypassed several closed doors until they reached one that looked exactly like all the others. Solana—or Uldreyin, or whoever she was—opened it, gestured Leo and Crispin and Aspin inside, and then shut it more or less in Tad’s face.

Since this was called the Opal Hall, Leo had expected it to be fancy, maybe with bedazzled ceilings and iridescent décor. It wasn’t. The walls and floor were the same blocky gray stone as the rest of the castle, and everything was bare except in one corner, in front of a large window. In that spot there was an olive-green shag rug that looked as if it had immigrated from the 1970s, and a collection of sagging couches and armchairs exactly like those in one of the group homes where Leo had lived after his parents died.

Their host collapsed into one of the chairs with a noisy oof. After a brief hesitation, Leo sat at the end of the couch across from her. Crispin took the middle cushion and Aspin occupied the third spot. Nobody hurried to speak, so Leo let loose the first thing that came to mind. “Where are the opals?”

The woman waved a hand. “Long gone. King Reginald’s family has been burning through their fortune for generations. They eventually started selling off everything of value. Well, they’re all extinct now anyway, so it doesn’t matter. I like this room because although the furnishings are different every time I come in, they’re always comfortable. But tell me, Crispin, what are you doing here?”

Before Leo could respond, probably with something stupid, Crispin spoke up. “I am Crispin. He’s my partner, Leopold Lane. There was a… complication. It involved Mother. Is she here?”

The woman’s expression tightened. “I haven’t seen that old bat in centuries.”

Aspin gasped. “My mother is queen of the fae. She is not an old bat! How dare you⁠—”

“Oh, shut up.” Crispin sounded tired. “I’m cold. I’m hungry. And as usual in recent times, I have no idea what’s going on. Aunt Uldreyin, can you please⁠—”

“Solana!” Leo startled even himself with the outburst. “Solana Omeriqelle was the name of the girl in that story I was telling you about.” He’d forgotten that, which was odd considering how many times his mother had read him the story. The fictional Solana had almost felt like a friend, which was nice because his real friends were pretty thin on the ground. Turns out nobody wants to invite Chaos to their second-grade birthday party, even if they don’t know he’s Chaos. It turns out that chaos with a lowercase “c” is bad enough.

Crispin raised his eyebrows. Which, Leo noticed now, could probably use some shaping. “Interesting. Aunt, could you please explain why you’re here?”

Her mouth was scrunched up in disapproval—Leo wasn’t sure of what in particular—but she nodded. “Fine. But my dear, why in heavens did you get yourself swapped with a human, of all things?”