Page 36 of Search for the Lost

“He’s not—” Aspin started, but Crispin stomped on his foot. Hard.

“Leo is my partner. My beloved.” Crispin’s tone was steel. “Please treat him respectfully.”

That made Leo feel good enough that he was willing to overlook yet another diss of his assumed species, although he was getting really tired of that. His time on that alternate Earth with the sentient dinosaurs had been bad enough, but ever since then almost everyone in Crispin’s orbit had treated him like something scraped off the bottom of their sparkly, pointy boots.

Crispin tried to be sympathetic, but he didn’t really understand how exhausting it was. Maybe, when they got the current mess sorted out, they should spend some time in Leo’s old home, and Crispin could see how the locals responded to a guy with pointy ears. Maybe then he’d understand.

But that was an issue for another time, because right now Uldreyin—or Solana, or whoever she was—was telling a long story about a fight she’d had with Crispin’s mother. There was a lot of fae politics involved, which seemed to fascinate Aspin and at least mildly interest Crispin, but Leo couldn’t really follow it.

He did notice, however, that Crispin was still shivering a little. The room was chilly, so Leo scooted closer and worked his arm around Crispin’s back in an effort to share some body heat.

Crispin gave him a grateful smile and interrupted his aunt. “Fine, so you and Mother had a falling out. But why are you here?”

“I was looking for somewhere… unobtrusive. Because as you know, it’s safest not to be overly noticeable to the Queen of the Fae when she’s displeased with you.”

The three on the couch nodded knowingly. “This location is certainly quite obscure,” Aspin noted.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, quite. Honestly, I arrived here by accident. I was weaving in and out of various world connections, and I think I took a wrong turn at Bizeavis. But I got here and discovered a huge SIV—it had taken over the entire world, it seemed—and I decided to stay for a while.” She shrugged. “Now I’m comfortable and can’t be bothered to move.”

“What’s an SIV?” Leo asked. It was just three initials, but something about it sent a spooky chill across the back of his neck. “One of those big black cars that takes up one-and-a-half parking spaces?”

Crispin’s aunt made a face that was far too familiar, the same expression having appeared on the face of every one of Leo’s teachers—repeatedly. An expression that meant he was too stupid to live. Which he was not. It wasn’t his fault that his chaos nature interfered with schooling.

“Subliminal Influence Vortex,” she said, very slowly.

Crispin patted Leo’s knee. “I’ve collected items from them several times. They’re tricky to deal with, but if you have the right knack, you can extract what you need without too much fuss.” His smug expression made it clear that he did, in fact, have the knack.

“But what does that mean?” Leo asked.

Maybe Crispin would have answered, but his aunt beat him to it. “It’s a semi-natural phenomenon wherein elements that affected someone’s unconscious or preconscious mind manipulate the environment.”

That was a lot of fancy words. Leo took a moment to try to digest them, but they gave him heartburn. Also his head ached and, at the edge of his vision, he thought he saw something creeping in the shadowy corners of the room, which wasn’t there when he looked directly at it. “Translate, please.”

To his surprise, Aspin answered and with unusual patience. “We experience things that shape who we are, even if we don’t recall them. When an SIV appears—and they’re rare, mind you—it alters the current environment to reflect those things. I once encountered an SIV while I was hunting, and it changed nearly a furlong of forest into a beach I visited when I was a boy, and—” He stopped abruptly, his face reddening to the tips of his ears. He cleared his throat. “Well, it was a childhood event that happened there.”

Under other circumstances Leo would have pressed him to tell more of the story, partly because seeing Aspin embarrassed was fun. And partly because it might be handy to know more about what made him tick.

That had to wait, however, because realization was slowly creeping into Leo’s brain. Like one of those big slugs that had occasionally found their slow, slimy way into an apartment he’d once lived in.

“Would… would stories I’d heard or saw on TV be something an SIV might pick up on?”

“I don’t know what TV is,” Aspin responded. “But yes, I imagine stories can affect us quite deeply.”

Leo was silent, thinking about this, and Crispin rejoined the conversation. “I never heard of an SIV big enough to engulf an entire world.”

His aunt shrugged. “Well, this one did. Suddenly I found myself turned into a young girl named Solana, and I had an absolutely horrid family, but there were white horses, you see… and there was a bit of unpleasantness with the king…. and now here I am, Regent. I’ve been enjoying it.”

By now, Leo had questions. A lot of them. But he wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate to discuss them in front of Aunt Uldreyin. Besides, that nonexistent thing in the corner of the room was becoming almost existent. It was also growing larger. And it possibly had horns. But nobody else seemed to notice.

“I’m glad you’ve settled somewhere that makes you happy,” Crispin said to his aunt. “But we’ve found ourselves in a pickle and⁠—”

“My sister’s doing?”

“Possibly. Probably. Almost certainly. And we’re trying to untangle the mess, which requires tracking her down.”

Aunt Uldreyin sat back with crossed arms. “Told you. Haven’t seen her.”

“Did you see my assistant, though? Cypher? He’s a faun. Tad said he was here.”