Page 39 of Search for the Lost

He squeezed Leo’s hand as Tad scrambled to get behind them, claiming the muddy ground next to the rushing waters and peering fearfully between their shoulders.

Leo, however, was calm. He kissed Crispin’s cheek and let go. “It’s okay, Crispy. I know what to do.”

He leapt in front of Crispin and Tad, put out his hands like some crazed wizard trying to summon lightning from his fingertips, and bellowed, “BE STILL!” He stared the Wild Things right in the eyes, his twitching tail the only sign betraying his fear.

For a second, nothing changed. Crispin prepared to grab Leo by the tail and leap into the river. But then the ungainly beasts fell back, covering their faces with their hands as if they had just witnessed something of surpassing awfulness.

Crispin stared in disbelief.

They fell to their knees, huffing and grunting and averting their eyes.

Leo approached the closest one, the giant orange-striped one that had appeared first in the corner, and put a hand on its forehead, scratching it heartily. The giant beastie began to purr. “See, Crispy? They’re not so bad once you get to know them.” Leo was adorable in his white pointy-eared onesie, and something sparkled on his head: a jaunty golden crown.

“Iiiiffff… if you say so.” Crispin got up on shaky legs. “What do we do now?” He looked down at his own white pajamas. “Are we stuck like this too?”

“Maybe not.” Tad pointed at the beastie. “Look!”

It was mewling loudly with pleasure, and it was changing shape. As Crispin watched, the beast shrank down to fae size, and then smaller yet. Soon enough, it turned back into an ordinary tabby cat, not all that different from Tad except for the fact that it was a quarter of his size, wore no clothes, and stood on four feet.

Tad scooped the cat into his arms. “Mr. Whiskers, what an adventure you just had.” He touched noses with the tabby, and they purred at one another.

The others were changing too, slowly becoming their old selves again: Aspin, Aunt Uldreyin, and Minkis.

As the little squirrel returned to form, he shook his head, sneezed twice, and leapt up the side of Crispin’s trousers—he was happy to see the former clothes returned—and onto his shoulder. “Strange place. Minkis no like strange place.”

It felt good to have his furry friend back.

Crispin’s brother shook his whole body like a wet dog and then blinked owlishly. “What… happened?”

“The SIV got a little inspiration from Leo’s brain.” Crispin tapped his temple. “You made a very striking monster.”

Aspin ducked his head in embarrassment but managed a weak smile. “Did I… did we almost eat you?”

Crispin shook his head. “Only almost almost.” He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, how close it had been.

The jungle was fading away too, replaced by the castle’s hallway walls and ceiling.

Crispin breathed a sigh of relief. “Everything is going to be all right.”

“Um, guys?” Tad grabbed at Crispin’s trousers and tugged.

“What?” Crispin spun around to see that the river wasn’t fading away like the rest of the SIV-inspired madness. Instead it was growing wider, louder, and more rambunctious.

They scrambled to get out of its way, but there was nowhere to go. The wall behind them was annoyingly firm again, and the riverside pathway they’d followed was being swallowed by the onrush of water.

The torrent came at them with a roar and swept them off of their feet, sending them down the hall, tumbling head over foot.

Crispin lost track of everyone else in the rush of churning water. He struggled to keep afloat, pushing himself above the surface to grab a quick breath of air before being sucked down again into the darkness. The onrush continued to tumble him about, and he struggled to find the surface.

He went under once, twice….

The third time, he got more water in his mouth and lungs than air.

I’m going to die, he thought for the second—or was it third?—time that day. Then he was sucked down again into the river’s wet, hungry maw, and he faded into blessed unconsciousness.

He woke up, stretched out on his stomach with his face buried in a thick red shag carpet that smelled like feet. He sneezed.

Every muscle in his body ached, and his mouth tasted like stagnant pond water.