Page 76 of Search for the Lost

Leo got a bit teary-eyed at that but managed to control it. If he cried, he’d get a stuffy nose and then might not be able to breathe at all. Which reminded him: without a mouth, he also couldn’t eat or drink. On cue, his stomach growled.

Juzir must have heard it, because he looked alarmed and rushed over to a bookshelf, where he pulled out a thick book with worn green binding. “Who’s responsible for the curse?” he asked as he flipped through the pages.

“The Red Dukes of Vespertine.”

Juzir looked up in surprise. “Why in the name of Florgir’s knees would they do that?”

Crispin sighed. “They didn’t, exactly. They actually cursed Oberon so he⁠—”

“Oberon! That old fool? Never has anything nice to say about anyone. I’m glad he’s not King of Chaos anymore.” Juzir shot a look at Leo. “I guess.”

It was somewhat heartening to know that others disliked Oberon too, and that even Juzir seemed to consider Leo an improvement over his predecessor.

That thought led to a realization that rocked Leo on his feet. He was an improvement. Oberon might have been some version of him, but that was very much an old version. Like a crappy old video game where the play was boring and the whole thing glitched and lagged. Leo was the newest version, the one with improved graphics, sharper storyline, and more processing power. And he was way more fun.

Oberon was a clunky antique car that belched pollution, got three miles per gallon, and killed its driver and passengers if it so much as bumped into anything. Leo was the newest model of an expensive SUV—electric, maybe—with all the latest gadgets and an excellent safety rating. Yes, there was a resemblance between old and new versions. But they weren’t the same.

You’re obsolete, Leo thought at Oberon. Your version is no longer supported.

Oberon tried to grumble, but Leo didn’t pay any attention.

Anyway, Crispin and Juzir were deep in conversation, their heads bent over Juzir’s book. “—cannot give him an on/off switch,” Crispin was saying. Leo used his middle fingers to convey his opinion of that particular suggestion.

Finally, Juzir turned to stare at Leo. He made a few gestures with his stubby arms while chanting something in a language that didn’t seem to have any vowels. The apartment filled with the smell of ozone, as if lightning were about to strike.

The WOLFs sat on their butts and howled.

Something made a popping sound so loud that Leo’s ears rang—and he once again had a mouth.

Which Crispin put to excellent use by swooping over and giving him a kiss so fervent that Leo very nearly blacked out.

Then it began to rain… inside the apartment.

27

Crispin

“Get out! Take these mangy curs and get out of my apartment.” Juzir glared at the WOLFs and waved his little dinosaur hands in a way that was probably meant to be threatening but just made Crispin smile as they stood amid the interior downpour. “Out, out out, out, out!” Juzir gnashed his sharp teeth at Leo, adding some literal bite to his demand.

Leo blushed. “I’m so sorry, Juzee. Sometimes my powers just get away from me!” He spread his arms in silent entreaty. “Actually, the rain adds a nice touch to the Jurassic décor⁠—”

Crispin suspected that Leo had a large backlog of things he wanted to say. It must feel so good for him to speak his mind again.

Juzir was having none of it. “Get. Out.” He opened the now-dripping front door and pushed Leo into the hallway.

Behind them, the WOLFs growled.

“It’s okay, guys. I’m safe.” Leo’s reassuring but muffled voice drifted in from the hallway.

The WOLFs settled back down on their haunches, though one of them snapped and snarled at Juzir, who took a hasty step backwards.

Crispin grinned. He was pretty sure Leo had done it on purpose; he did owe Juzir back for his kidnapping, after all. But because of the uncursing that had just taken place, Crispin felt an obligation. “Allow me.” He touched one of the green jungle throw pillows that was soaked to the bone—actually, it felt like it was filled with bones, which given Juzir’s species and predilections, would not have been surprising—and the water morphed into steam.

The dry wave spread from the cushions into the peat-moss couch and from there to the sago wood floors, covered with a charming mossy carpet that was drinking in the water quite greedily, and finally up the walls, where sagging lava-orange wallpaper straightened out and snapped back into place. The purple paw prints disappeared too, one by one, with faint popping sounds. Soon the place was back to its old jungly self. “There. Better?”

Juzir glared at him but then nodded sullenly. “It feels like a swamp in here, and reeks of human.” He trotted over to the nearest window and struggled to open it.

How did these folks build a whole world with those teensy-weensy arms?