Page 62 of Search for the Lost

Leo whistled. “This place reminds me of high school. All the kids making way in front of you, while their friends closed ranks behind you.” He squeezed Crispin’s hand.

“I never went to school. Mother had me tutored. Phremwell from Therrin was my tutor. He was one of the great professors at Hastor, until she… convinced him to teach me instead.” Crispin shuddered at the memory of the Awaannisan professor rapping his knuckles with a ruler when Crispin was being particularly obtuse, which was far too often. Still, the winged teacher had been fair, and one of the smartest creatures Crispin had ever met, and over time, his disapproving wing shudders had grown less and less.

It seemed that Leo’s Chaos mind had changed the way Crispin thought about things, making his own more prone to rambling. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad….

“Crispy!” Leo’s voice drew him back to the present.

“Sorry.” He focused his attention on a questing vine with sharp serrated edges that had come uncomfortably close. The errant vine snapped into place above them, creating the next part of the roof of the strange tunnel Leo and Crispin were carving out of sheer madness.

Chaos craves order. Dietrich had been right about that. And vice versa. Crispin squeezed Leo’s hand and asked Dietrich, “How far is this cabin of my mother’s?”

“Not far. Maybe three kilometers?”

Crispin sighed. It might as well have been a million. He concentrated on the work, reaching out with his free hand to touch each questing branch and vine, setting them in order.

Around them, the forest shuddered and moaned, and little bright-red eyes peered at them as they passed, sending shivers up his spine. What I wouldn’t give for a couple of Nephraxian oxhounds to ride through this. They’d stomp those little beasties into dust.

Reach. Touch. Move. The morning wore on as they made slow progress, Leo and Crispin up front, Dietrich and Aspin bringing up the rear, with Minkis hopping from shoulder to shoulder at will and chittering about there being “no nuts in stupid forest.” Crispin rolled his eyes. Sometimes he missed quiet Minkis. Well, chittering-only Minkis.

Thea played cheerful background music from Crispin’s pocket, which only made the dark forest seem stranger.

“What happened to the WOLFs?” Aspin’s voice cut through his musings.

They stopped to listen. It was true; the forest had gone silent. Eerily silent. Even Thea went quiet.

“WOE to the WOLF who crosses our path!” Leo grinned, apparently trying to lighten the mood.

Dietrich put a hand on the pommel of the great sword, now fastened at his waist. “They only go quiet when they’re on the hunt.”

“Do they know we’re here?” Aspin’s voice carried a strange blend of fear and excitement.

Crispin fought to keep his own voice steady. “Did they ever attack Mother when she came here?”

“Only once.” Dietrich’s smile was grim. “She… undid three of them, and the rest ran off, massive tails between their legs.”

“Un… did?” Leo looked pale.

“Yes. When she wed Chaos, she mastered its powers too. At least to some extent. When you inflict maximum chaos on something, it….”

“Explodes?” Now Leo was whiter than a daberbeast’s belly.

Dietrich frowned. “Something like that.”

“Oh.” Leo seemed to shrink into himself. When Leo stopped being vivacious and annoyingly cheerful, it meant something was seriously wrong.

“What is it?” asked Crispin.

“Nothing. Just something that happened when I was six.” His mouth slammed shut, and he refused to say more.

Something to talk about later, I suppose. “Whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. In fact⁠—”

The forest surged into motion.

Four large shapes burst out of the foliage and onto the open path around them, dark mouths lined with sharp yellow teeth and growling with a ferocity that rattled Crispin’s bones. The stench hit him like a wall, sharp and rancid, rife with decay and the sickly sweet smell of carrion.

Crispin reached out with his power, determined to tame the foul beasts. The closest one stumbled backward, and for a second he thought he’d managed to stun it. Then it shook its boulder-sized head and focused its red eyes on Crispin. Gazes locked, it took a menacing step toward him, then another.

Crispin tried again, but the great beast was unfazed. Its mouth split into a hideous grin as it gathered itself to leap at him.