Page 99 of Search for the Lost

He put his arms round her and hugged her back, finally letting himself relax into her embrace. “I wish it was always like this.” Like with Leo’s parents, though he didn’t say it. They may have been fake, but their love for their Chaos-born son had always been real. Clearer than Cerillia’s love for Crispin. Until now.

“Sandwiches!” Leo’s cheerful voice startled them, and Crispin let go and scooted back into place.

“I found this bottle of mayo in the fridge, along with some sliced ham. Hope it’s all right! I couldn’t find a date on the jar….” Leo stared at the two of them. “Are you two… all right?”

Crispin shrugged. He wasn’t quite sure either. “I think so?” He glanced at his mother.

She nodded.

“So this is good… right?” Leo looked from one to the other. “Fill me in. What happened while I was in the kitchen making lunch?”

Crispin glanced at his mother and grinned. He loved Leo’s boundless enthusiasm. “This is good. I think.”

Leo set the tray—containing three mugs of tea and some sandwiches neatly cut in half—on the old wooden coffee table, which looked as if it had soldiered through a couple wars and Dorothy’s probably difficult childhood. Didn’t she say she’d had a little dog? Bobo? Roto?

That would certainly explain the chew marks on three of the four legs.

Crispin sat in the rocker that his mother had occupied when they arrived, and Minkis bounded over and into his lap. “Sandwich,” the squirrel demanded.

Crispin leaned forward and grabbed two, one for him and one for Minkis. He was surprisingly hungry—well, no, maybe not surprisingly. He had been on a rather extended quest that had blown right past bedtimes and regular mealtimes on an alarming number of occasions. Nonna Strega’s feast—and the one at Ous—notwithstanding.

His mother took a sandwich, too, which surprised him. She was usually very picky about what she ate. “This is delicious, Leopold,” she said around bites.

Leo practically glowed at the compliment.

Crispin stared at his mother through narrowed eyes. Who are you? he wondered for the third or fourth time since they’d arrived.

She finished it and put a hand on Leo’s knee. “I am sorry I doubted you. You have been… good for my son.” That seemed to hitch in her throat, but she managed to get it out, and it sounded almost genuine.

“Who are you?” Crispin blurted it out before he could stop himself.

Cerillia turned and regarded him with just a little of that cold reserve she had always used to look at the world. It was strangely reassuring. “I am your mother. And I will do whatever I have to, in order to ensure that you grow up to be the best possible King of the Fae.” Along with the slight chill in her voice, a little of her old glamour returned. She still looked old—impossibly old—but there was a beauty and grace to her weathered features that reminded him of a dried pressed rose. Not what it once was, but still beautiful all the same.

“I’m s-s-sorry, ma’am.” He looked instinctively at the floor, embarrassed that she could still make him feel this way. Then his resolve strengthened and he looked her in the eye. “I take it back. I’m not sorry. You’ve always treated me like an idiot, or a fragile hothouse flower, while you showered your love and affection on Aspin.”

“And look how he turned out⁠—”

Crispin shook his head. “You’re wrong about him. He’s actually a decent being. Did you know he covered for you for years, to save my feelings? To protect me? I’ve seen a side of him these last few days that I never suspected existed and⁠—”

She wasn’t frowning at his harangue. Instead, she was smiling. This was outside his normal experience with his mother—way outside—and he felt confused.

“Exactly what’s happening here?”

It was Leo who responded. “Crispy, I think she’s proud of you.”

It dawned on Crispin that Leo was right. His mother was…. Oh my seventy stars, how is it possible? She was proud of him.

“So this test….” He wasn’t sure whether to feel proud that he and Leo had passed it, or angry that she’d dared to test them at all. “Were the Dukes in on it?”

Cerillia finished her second sandwich and daintily wiped the corners of her mouth. She took a mug of steaming hibiscus tea from the tray and sipped it before answering. “No. My time as Queen is growing short, and they knew it. I am… weaker than I used to be. I’d imagine you’ve been feeling your strength, of late?”

Crispin frowned. Have I? It had been easier to merge his magick with Leo’s, and yes, his power did seem stronger. “Maybe⁠—”

“The Red Dukes sensed my weakness and took the chance to topple me while I was away from the seat of my power.” She clenched her hands so tightly that her nails drew blood from her palms. “They used me to draw you out, hoping to destroy or imprison us both.” She looked around the walls of the little house. “Though they failed at the destruction, they sadly seemed to have accomplished the imprisonment.”

Crispin tried to process all of that. On the one hand, he was relieved that the Red Dukes had been the enemy, that he and his friends hadn’t killed other beings needlessly. On the other hand, they were trapped. “Can’t we just go out the way we came in? Between Leo and me⁠—”

She shook her head sadly. “This place is a trap. Your powers of Order won’t work here, and Leo’s Chaos alone….” She took a deep breath. “It’s not enough to overcome the wards. On the plus side, the refrigerator seems to have unlimited food, there’s soap and hot water, two bedrooms, and a lovely, if a bit dated, bathroom.”