Page 34

Crispin

L eo.

He was doing this. It had to be him. But how?

A sudden surge of hope swept through Crispin.

The building across the street snapped and straightened, transforming itself into an assortment of unbending lines on a plane as flat as Qylzryd’s stomach.

Crispin shook his head to clear out that particular image. He was very angry with Qyl at the moment, and the memory of the man’s magnetic charms was not going to distract him.

Down the street, a series of sizzles and pops accompanied a row of trees as they shivered and flattened. They dropped a season’s worth of paper-thin leaves in an instant, which tumbled to the ground in a rustling clutter.

Minkis chittered anxiously on his shoulder. “Not good, Acorn Man.”

He nodded. “Maybe not. But I’d bet Leo’s behind this.”

“What’s the little bushy-tailed rat on about now?” Aspin glared at him.

Crispin’s eyes widened. “It’s happening to you too.” His once muscular and very handsome brother was flattening out, becoming a mere wisp of his former self as his cheeks and nose drew back and his hair lost its luster, making him look like something in a funhouse mirror.

“But not to us. Curious.” His mother looked exactly the same—though was it just his imagination or was her silver gown a little more tattered and worn than before?

The two of them were increasingly out of place in this strange new world.

Her eyes narrowed. “Why is your… pet not affected?”

Crispin glanced at his best friend, who was still chittering away on his shoulder.

“I don’t know. Maybe because he’s so close to me?

” He scratched the squirrel under the chin, and Minkis let out a pleased little squirrel growl.

“It doesn’t matter. Right now we have to get to the Office to save Leo, and put an end to this. ”

“You think he’s responsible?” One eyebrow arched, as if the Fairy Queen conceded the possibility that Leo was more powerful than she’d believed. Or perhaps it just signaled that she thought Crispin was crazy.

“Yes, I think Leopold is doing this. Somehow.” His mother’s use of the personal pronoun was a marked upgrade from what she’d called Leo before. Progress, of a kind.

“What about me?” Aspin’s voice was a shadow of its former self. He was flailing about and ultimately lost his balance and slipped to the ground, floating downward for a few feet before settling onto the equally flat pavement. “Help me! Don’t leave me here!” Even his voice sounded dull and toneless.

Crispin sighed. “You’ll be fine if we can get all of this fixed.” He knelt and began to roll up his brother into a tight scroll.

“What are you doing?” Aspin demanded. “Mother, you can’t let mpprhhllggg.” The rest was lost as Crispin tied the roll closed with a neat bit of ribbon from out of his backpack. He tucked Aspin safely away inside.

His mother hid a smile. “So what do we do now?”

He stared at her. “You’re asking me?” She’d never asked for his advice, not once in his entire life. The world really had turned itself inside out.

The Mother of Fae gestured at the still-flattening city of Odds. “This is your mess as much as it is mine. Perhaps it is time for the two of you, after all.”

He blinked. Things were shifting, and not just outside of him, in the world. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the weight of responsibility that a relationship required. And not just any relationship. With his soulmate. How could this be happening? He was just a quiet desk fae.

You are Order, personified. What the little voice inside of him proclaimed still seemed strange to him, but maybe not so surprising.

All of his life he’d been good at organization, and at OotL he’d had the best perfecality score for years.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. I can do this. Besides, Leo needs me.

“We need to go to the Office. Between the two of us, we can get this sorted out.”

His mother nodded. “I’d take us there, but I find myself… diminished.” She snapped her fingers, but nothing happened.

Maybe it was the lack of Chaos in the air? He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. “Not a problem. I can get us there.” He pulled out his travel device. “Thea, take us back to the Office of the Lost.” He waited for a portal to open up.

Her lights flashed, then went out. “I’m sorry, Crispin. There seems to be some sort of block.” It was good to have her back to her normal, competent, non-singing self.

“Flying faeries of Flathium Four!” Bidulla. She’d managed to revoke his access somehow. She must have known he’d be coming.

“There has to be another way.” His mother seemed… shorter now, more… mortal? She also looked tired.

Another way. Who else had access, that he could get to quickly? Juzir. Someone Bidulla trusted, who had just been to OotL. “Juzir can get us in.”

An arched eyebrow greeted his suggestion, a gesture that at one time would have sent him scrambling back to his room in fear. “Didn’t he betray you?”

Crispin snorted. “Yes. Him and Qyl. It may take some work to get him to agree. Fortunately I know just the creature for the job.” He’d never thought he would willingly return to the giants’ world—what with them having a sweet tooth for fae and all—but a friend was a friend.

Crispin straightened up, pulled his shirt taut, and addressed his friend-cum-travel device. “Thea, take us to Vlotho.”

The air shimmered, and a small travel portal appeared in the air before them. It looked a little weird around the edges—black and white where it usually sparkled with color—but the purple forests of Vlotho beckoned them from the other side.

“After you.” He held out his arm, and his mother, after looking at the portal as if it might bite her, stepped carefully over the threshold of the shimmering image. Crispin followed, feeling a strange surge of energy as he passed through the flat surface.

It snapped shut behind him, and three things happened at once.

He noticed Minkis was gone.

His backpack exploded, depositing a full-size, very angry, and entirely three-dimensional Aspin on the ground next to him, a red ribbon tied around his temples like a headband. “Crispin, I should?—”

A booming voice shook the purple trees, sending a flock of nesting white somethings skyward in a mad flapping frenzy.

“WHO DARES INVADE MY… oh, is that you, Crispin?” The owner of the voice squatted, squinting at them through a giant eye.

Crispin waved. “Hello, Fromlith. So good to see you again. Hope you don’t mind that I brought some company.”

A grin, as hideous as it was welcoming, showed a row of teeth, each one nearly half Crispin’s size. Next to him, Aspin had become as still as a statue.

It was good to know the effects of the Great Flattening could be reversed. The draining of Chaos from the Connected Worlds must not have reached Vlotho yet.

“You are always welcome, Master Moss’caladin. And who are your friends?” His breath could have knocked out a were-ox, and not just due to the gale force of it.

“These are my brother, Aspin…”

Aspin managed a bow and almost fell over.

“…and my mother, the illustrious Cerillia Ailedrin Moss’caladin, Queen of the Fae.”

Fromlith blushed. “I am honored to welcome Her Majesty to my humble abode.” One giant palm indicated his cottage, which was almost large enough to hold all of the Prickles Hotel and still have room for a giant teapot.

He stood and assayed what he must have thought was a gentlemanly bow, scaring the flock of maybe-birds once again. “To what do I owe this honor?”

Crispin stood on his tiptoes in a failed attempt to match Fromlith’s stature. “We need your help to… enlist the services of a certain archosaur wizard who owes me a favor.”

Fromlith sat onto a giant stone chair that the bulk of his body had previously hidden from view and he scratched his chin, a sound akin to a woodsman sawing down a tree.

“Me mother’s a-visiting soon for her summer stay, and I was planning to finish off the addition before she arrived.

” He indicated a large pile of stone that had apparently crushed two or three of the pretty purple trees when it had been laid down. “Perhaps a week from Frorsday?”

Crispin exchanged a look with his mother. He had no idea when Frorsday was, but a week or more away was too long.

The Queen of Fae cleared her throat. “Mister….” She glanced at Crispin, one eyebrow raised.

“Flokrion.” He whispered it, but Fromlith probably heard anyhow. Giants had excellent hearing, what with the ears that were as big as a fae. Or a human.

“Mister Flokrion, I’m afraid our request is quite urgent. Something is sucking all the Chaos out of the Connected Worlds, and if we don’t put a stop to it, your beautiful house may soon collapse, like a house of cards.”

That got Fromlith’s attention. He sat up and then looked worriedly over his shoulder at his home. “You don’t say.”

Crispin tried again. “Look, Leo’s in danger. You remember Leo, right?”

Fromlith leaned forward so that one of his huge eyes was just above Crispin. “Leo’s in danger?”

Crispin nodded. “Someone has taken him, and we have to get him back. Will you help us?” He took a deep breath. “I’m sure my mother can send someone, once this is all over, to help you build your addition.”

Cerillia hissed, but at a stern glare from Crispin, she silenced and finally nodded. “I would be honored to help you enlarge your… house. It’s truly like nothing I have ever seen before.”

Giants weren’t great with nuance, and Fromlith rose to full height, beaming with pride at the perceived compliment. “So kind of you to say, miss. It’s built of nothing but the finest stone from Mount Aspire?—”

“It’s truly lovely.” Crispin cut him off. “But we must hurry.” A stand of trees in the distance was markedly losing its brilliant color.

“Of course. Do I need anything?”

Crispin shook his head. “Just your giant self.” He pulled Thea out, relieved.

“You know, we giants are resistant ish to magic.”

Crispin laughed in spite of the gravity of their situation. “I’m quite aware. That’s why you’re perfect for this position.”

Fromlith blushed, momentarily turning as purple as the forest.

“Thea, can you take us to Earth 2?”

“Of course, boss. But how is he going to fit through?”

Fromlith chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. You three… or four…?”

Thea flashed. “Four. Thank you for recognizing me.” It was said with a bit of an edge, as if someone had been remiss in that department.

“You four go through, then I’ll follow.”

Crispin frowned. Thea was right… the portal was barely large enough for fae-sized entities. “You sure?”

Fromlith gestured them toward the portal, and the wind of his hand’s passage nearly knocked Crispin off his feet. “Go on, little ones.”

Crispin sighed. If Fromlith said he could do it, well, maybe giantish magic included the ability to… smallen?… when necessary. “Come on then.” The portal showed the same tidy park he and Leo had arrived at, what seemed like a lifetime before.

But where was Minkis?

“Mink?”

The squirrel was suddenly there, on his shoulder. Or had he been there all along?

“Hello, Minkis. Good to see you again.” Fromlith sounded genuinely happy to see the little squirrel.

“How do you two know…” Crispin sighed. “Oh, never mind.” One more mystery for later.

He was so tired. He just had to hold himself together long enough to save Leo, and then he could rest.

“Can’t we just go home?” Aspin sounded whinier—and younger—than usual.

“Just be glad you’re three-dimensional again.” Crispin wished his brother was anywhere else but here. It would make things easier.

Cerillia suppressed a smile.

Crispin set the example, stepping confidently through the portal into a warm, rainy summer afternoon on Earth 2. The rain smelled like spring.

His mother and Aspin followed. “Thank you, Thea. I’m sorry if I overlook you, sometimes.”

“You’re welcome, Crispy.”

Oh no, we’re not going to let that get started. “Crispin, please.”

“As you wish. Crisp in .”

They all expectantly turned back to the still-open portal.

A massive thumb slipped through, grasping the edge of the shimmering portal.

It began to tug, dragging the edge of it upwards with a hideous howling screech.

The door between worlds grew in fits and starts, fighting the giant’s grip but losing in ever weakening stages until its top edge finally jumped all at once a good thirty feet into the air with a loud crackling snap .

Fromlith stepped through, his giant feet shaking the park, and then let go of the poor, abused portal, which popped out of existence like a soap bubble.

Crispin stared at the space where it had been. That was interesting.

Giants were surprising creatures, far beyond the lunkish (and somewhat flesh-eating) traits usually assigned to them in the stories. Thank the Red Dukes that Frommy’s a vegetarian.

Then he looked around.

Their arrival on Earth 2 had drawn a crowd of archosaurs and their humanish pets.

Leo, we’re coming! They’d better snap to it and find his former wizard friend, and then move on to the Office before the Chaos Wave caught up to them.

Fromlith dusted himself off, causing cries of consternation from the crowd. “Where to, my little friends?”