Page 37 of Search for the Lost

“You’ll have to ask Tad about that. He protects me from unwanted guests. Little varmint was muttering something about prophecies and the Chosen One last time I saw him.”

Crispin looked annoyed. Leo felt annoyed. He was accustomed to disorder in his life; it came with the Chaos territory. In fact, he kind of liked it when things were a little weird and unsettled. But lately, things had been really weird and unsettled, just one puzzling riddle after another; and the more time that passed, the less he knew. It was worse than the Red Queen’s running-to-stay-in-place deal. Because he was running hard, it seemed like, but he was getting farther and farther away from a resolution.

And now Crispin, Aspin, and their aunt were back to talking fae politics. and the whatever-it-was in the shadows had teeth. Lots and lots of them. And a striped orange shirt. And maybe a furry tail.

Leo leapt to his feet. “Enough! Can we just get some straight information for once? And if not, can we move on? Or head back home. That would be great. I want a big bowl of mac ’n’ cheese and then I want to curl up in bed with a bag of peanut butter pretzels and listen to podcasts about celebrity gossip and I want— Good God, what’s that?”

The shadow thing wasn’t a shadow any longer—it was entirely 3D. It was taller than Leo and twice as wide, its legs covered in scales and each finger and toe ending in a deadly-looking claw. It smiled at him with a mouth so wide that it was a miracle the top of its head didn’t fall off.

“We’ll eat you up!” it shouted in a voice deep enough to shake the room.

And Leo, who was suddenly wearing a one-piece wolf costume, complete with eared hood, knew exactly what the creature was.

“It’s a Wild Thing.” Leo grabbed Crispin’s arm, pulled him up off the couch, and dragged him toward the door. “Run!”

13

Crispin

Crispin’s Leo brain was getting leaky.

Crispin knew it was getting leaky, because as soon as Leo said “Wild Thing” he knew exactly what Leo meant. The beloved children’s story his—no, Leo’s—mother had used to read to him—no, to Leo—at bedtime. Well, one of the stories. They had been legion, but this one had been one of Leo’s favorites.

So much so that the SIV was picking up on it and was apparently determined to bring it to life right here in the middle of the Gray Castle of Anthor.

Leo grabbed his arm and dragged him bodily out of the room just as each of the others—Aspin, Aunt Uldreyin, and even Minkis—began to twitch and stretch and change colors.

In addition to the big Wild Thing that had materialized out of nowhere in the corner of the room—all curved horns and sharp little teeth and gaudy orange stripes and scaly bowed legs—Aunt Uldreyin’s casual sports clothes transformed into a beautiful brown pelt, her stomach expanded, her eyes bulged and turned bright yellow, and her nose became pink and bulbous like an expanding birthday balloon.

Crispin’s own brother Aspin was growing a beak and swelling into some huge monstrous bird beast who cawed in surprise at the change overtaking him. Minkis, bored by the meeting, had been snoring on Crispin’s lap until Leo grabbed Crispin’s arm. Now the little squirrel was on the floor, well on his way to becoming an adorable miniature gray beastie.

Leo pulled Crispin through the doorway and slammed the door behind them, and they ran down the empty hallway together.

“Where are we going?” Crispin looked down at himself and was surprised to see that he was dressed in white footed pajamas, just like Leo. He touched his head, and found a pair of pointy, make-believe ears.

They stopped dead in their tracks and stared at one another.

“We’re both Max!” they said at the same time.

Leo blinked and tilted his head. “How do you know about Max?”

“Because your brain is leaking!” Crispin grabbed Leo’s hand and jerked him out of the way as a giant purple tropical tree sprouted where he’d just been standing, showering them with bits of flagstone and dust.

The hallway was rapidly turning into a forest. The floor dissolved beneath them, and they had to jump back to avoid falling into a new river that had the audacity to appear in the middle of the former flagstones, winding its way through the exotic jungle that was springing to life.

Something screeched behind them.

Crispin spun around to see Tad Firefur, holding onto a log as the river carried him forward. The poor cat was flailing, spitting furiously, and yowling the most piteous yowl Crispin had ever heard.

Leo kicked hard at a skinny purple tree trunk with yellow leaves. It shuddered as he attacked it once, twice, three times before it finally snapped. He hauled it up in his arms and shoved the broken end at Crispin. “Help me anchor this!”

Crispin wrapped his arms around it gingerly, looking for splinters.

Leo dipped the tip down into the river just ahead of the struggling cat. “Tad, grab a hold! We’ll pull you out!”

Back in the room they’d come from, the howls of the Wild Things filled the air.

Crispin glanced nervously over his shoulder. The creatures had some wicked fierce teeth, and Aspin had always had it in for his brother. What might he do in his unrestrained Wild Thing state?