Page 36

Crispin

C rispin took in his surroundings. They were in the same park where he and Leo had arrived—had it been only a couple days before? Time seemed stretched beyond all meaning.

In some ways, it seemed like he had known Leo forever. Perhaps he had, if what his mother had said about the relationship between Chaos and Order was right. But in other ways, Crispin felt as if he hardly knew anything about him.

Juzir’s apartment was across town, and Crispin was tired of wasting time. “Fromlith, if you don’t mind?”

The giant nodded, lowering a massive palm to the ground.

Crispin stepped up nimbly.

“Giant man.” Minkis chittered. “Friend?”

“Yes. A good one.” Crispin still wasn’t used to Minkis actually talking. How did he know Giant man… Fromlith? And where had he disappeared to when they’d first arrived on Vlotho? A problem for later. If he were keeping a ledger, it would be stuffed full of problems for later.

Fromlith lifted them smoothly into the air and then offered his other hand to Cerillia and Aspin. The latter climbed eagerly onto the flattened palm, but Cerillia regarded it with a level of disgust she normally reserved for Crispin and his “lifestyle.” She didn’t approve of tree living.

“Can’t we walk? Although a nice litter wouldn’t be unwelcome….” She looked around hopefully, as if a team of handsome, muscular, well-oiled men might materialize, ready to carry her through the city in the manner to which she was accustomed.

There was only a large—and growing—crowd of archosaurs, snapping photos and pointing at the giant in their midst.

Crispin was breaking six laws and about forty-three regulations by bringing Fromlith here and “cross-contaminating” the worlds without prior permission, but he didn’t care. If he didn’t act—and soon—there would be no worlds to protect. “Hop on, mother. It’s surprisingly comfortable.”

Fromlith curved his hand, and Crispin settled in. Minkis made a show of scrambling around the edge of the great palm, looking out over the forest below.

“That tickles.” Fromlith’s hand twitched, and Crispin grabbed hold of his pinkie finger to avoid being dumped over the edge.

Still excited, Minkis chattered, “High, so high! Higher than home tree!”

Fromlith’s chuckle dislodged a flock of golden birds from a nearby tree, and they rose with squawks of protest.

“Minkis! Back to my shoulder!”

The squirrel hung his head, but complied. “Chaos Man misses you.”

Crispin blinked. He hadn’t realized that Minkis had thoughts on the matter. “Maybe so. We’ll find him. I promise.”

His mother finally gave in and climbed up onto the giant’s other hand, her mouth distorted in a moue of distaste.

“Where to?” Fromlith brought Crispin up to get a better look at him.

“See that tall white building with the golden spire? He lives there, on the tenth floor.” He wondered if Juzir would hear them coming. Did they have quakes here? “Oh, and Fromlith?”

The giant paused mid-step. “Yes?”

“Try not to crush any of the natives.”

“You got it, friend.” Fromlith squinted at the ground far below. “Excuse me, coming through.” He eased his sandaled foot down, giving the archosaurs time to move out of the way.

“This is going to take longer than walking,” Cerillia complained.

“But look at this view!” Aspin was perched at the edge of Fromlith’s hand, entranced.

Crispin felt sorry for his brother, for once. The handsome fae had rarely been away from their mother’s side, and almost never off the Estate. Now he was like an aardvark in an anthill, drinking it all in with an infectious enthusiasm. Crispin could almost forget they were on a dire mission.

They reached the edge of the park, and something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see what it was, and his mouth dropped open.

A patrol of leathery… things—like bats but larger, with great paper-thin wings and long beak-like snouts—were approaching from the far side of the park.

Minkis strained to see them. “Birds. Big big birds!

“Careful, Mink. Don’t want you falling.” They were kind of like birds, and as they got closer, their riders became visible: archosaurs in trim blue uniforms with gold embellishments. “The police.”

Leo would have said something charming and human and possibly outdated, like “Damn, the fuzz are here.” Crispin felt a little pang.

Fromlith continued his journey unabated, heading up a broad city boulevard, finding places to put his huge feet between cars and on empty patches of sidewalk, and the screams that accompanied his trek seemed to be more cries of fear than those of the mortally wounded, much to Crispin’s relief.

Breaking rules was one thing. Breaking people was quite another.

To his credit, Fromlith seemed to be causing minimal property damage as well, though at least one fire hydrant would need replacing and the center median’s attractive assortment of jungle-inspired foliage would never be the same.

“Giant being, please cease and desist this unapproved rampage.” The lead flyer held some kind of megaphone.

They thought this was a rampage? It was more of a walk in the park—literally.

“Sorry, can’t do that. Just going to see a friend.

We’ll be out of your hair shortly!” Crispin’s voice couldn’t match the megaphone, but the man seemed to have heard him.

He was handsome for an archosaur, with a square jaw and a crest of bright blue plumage that complemented his uniform nicely.

“Negative. Please rein in your giant and return to the park.” The flyer swooped close by, circling Fromlith and bringing him to an abrupt halt.

The other flyers joined him, making circles around Crispin and his companions.

Residents of the nearby apartment building, including their human-looking pets, gathered at the windows to stare.

Fromlith, his brow knitted in concern, lifted Crispin closer to his large face. “What do we do?” he asked, quietly for a giant. “Should I knock them out of the sky?”

Crispin sighed. He didn’t want to do any more damage or cause any more harm to life than was strictly necessary. “No, we’ll figure out how to deal with this.”

“I repeat, please return to the park, the lot of you, so we can sort this matter out.” The captain of the police seemed to be growing steadily more annoyed.

Crispin understood. How would he feel if his beloved forest was invaded by a giant, hell-bent on beating a path to one of its biggest trees? Still, he was at a loss about how to deal with it without causing more harm.

“Make cold.” Minkis chittered in his ear.

“You’re cold?” It was currently warm on Earth 2, like it normally was; most of this world boasted a tropical temperature.

“No. Make. Cold.”

“Ahhh.” Crispin’s eyebrow shot up. Juzir and his people were cold blooded. “Mother, could you… arrange for a little local snowstorm?”

“A what?”

“They don’t like cold.” He pointed at the flyers circling them.

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” Her voice almost sounded approving. She lifted her hands grandly, miming a sprinkling of snow—not strictly necessary, but Cerillia was nothing if not dramatic.

At first he was afraid it wouldn’t work—she’d seemed to have lost her powers back in Odds—but then the temperature began to rapidly drop. The air filled with snowflakes, sparkling under the tropical sun, and the flyers began to lose altitude, their wings beating in ever-slowing speeds.

Must be more Chaos magic here for her to draw on. Indeed, none of the city seemed to have flattened, just yet.

“Please… desist. Cold….” The leader’s flyer slipped out of the air, falling like a very cumbersome snowflake to land on a five-story building behind them.

The steed promptly curled up into a circle, its rider asleep on its back.

Soon all of the police force was grounded, and the civilians in the area had slumped to the ground too.

“Nice work!” Crispin let his voice practically shine with approval and was surprised to see the slightest blush bloom on his mother’s cheeks. “Fromlith, take us onward.”

“As you wish, friend.” The giant resumed his careful plodding through the city streets. They made good time, arriving at the shiny white building in minutes.

“What now? A pretty building, but not made to giants’ standards.” He tapped on a window and the glass creaked, groaned, and then cracked.

“Please, Fromlith, try not to break it. We need one of the residents alive and in good shape.”

“Any one of them?” Fromlith brought a giant eye close to one of the windows, looking inside. “We have many to choose from. This one looks particularly delicious….”

“You’re a vegetarian, remember?” His giant friend eating a local was the last thing Crispin needed on his conscience.

“Maybe so. But it doesn’t hurt to look.”

“Anyhow….” Crispin did his best to sound authoritative. “We’re looking for a particular one. Juzir. I mentioned him before, I think.”

Residents of this building, too, were coming to their windows to see what was causing the disturbance outside.

Crispin spotted his once-friend at last. “Up there.” He pointed at a balcony on the tenth floor. “Juzir! It’s me!” He waved at his former friend, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to arrive for a casual lunch in the palm of a giant.

Juzir opened his glass door onto the narrow terrace, his archosaur brow furrowed in a clear sign of annoyance but tempered with fear. “What are you doing here in such… company?”

Crispin swallowed his anger at seeing the person who had betrayed him. “We need your help.”

Juzir waved his tiny arms in negation. “Sorry, I don’t have time. I’m busy overseeing my bathroom remodel, fixing the damage that your collection caused?—”

“His name is Leo. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re paying for it with money you got for kidnapping him. So you don’t have the moral high ground here.”

Juzir sighed. “Go home. You have no idea what you are up against.” He spun his hands over one another and cast a sparkling glow-ball at Crispin, who flinched and then watched it dissipate before reaching him. “What in the Dicharthian hells?”

“Giants are resistant to magic, remember? Now , Frommy.”

The giant reached forward and scooped up Juzir in the same palm that held Crispin, lifting them into the air.

Crispin took a couple of deep breaths to clear away the dizziness from the sudden ascent.

Juzir looked over the edge of Fromlith’s palm, panicking. “Put me down. You have no right?—”

“You lost your rights when you invaded my son’s house and stole his future husband.” Cerillia sounded as indignant as Crispin had ever heard her.

“His… future… what?”

Crispin grinned. “My future husband.” He liked the sound of that. “Order and Chaos. Opposites attract, you know.”

Juzir stared at him. “You’re… Order personified?” Then he nodded, grinding his impressive teeth. “That makes a strange sense. That’s why he’s here.” He pointed, unexpectedly, at Minkis. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before.”

“Um, yes. He’s my….” He was going to say pet , but that wasn’t quite right. “Friend.”

“Friend of Acorn Man.” Minkis nudged Crispin’s cheek with his own furry one.

“Sure. Friend .” He looked over at the Queen of Fae. “So he’s the one?”

She nodded. “I sent him away for his own good, and to learn about the joined worlds. One day, he will take my place.”

All the grayish-brown drained out of Juzir’s handsomely scaled face. “Your Majesty.” He bowed to Crispin as well as he was able on the uneven surface of Fromlith’s palm. “How may I be of service?”

“Oh, get up, Juzzy. I’m still just good old Crispin.” Was this what it was going to be like? People constantly bowing to him and deferring to his every whim?

He hoped his mother had a long way to go before she felt the need to turn the Estate over to him.

“I’m sorry, Crispin. I didn’t know….”

“Water under the bridge.” Although to be honest, his old friend was on shaky ground; it would take more than one act to redeem himself. “Can you get us into the Office?”

“Of course.” He stared at Minkis. “But there’s one thing you should know first….”