Page 7 of Search for the Lost

Pinch.

He couldn’t decide which of his shirts to take, and the thought of choosing between his many shoes was horrendous. Who knew if he would need bunny slippers, patent leather loafers, or those knee-high red vinyl boots Qyl had convinced him to wear one night? And would his shoes even fit Leo?

Then his paramour swept in and kissed Crispin on the cheek. “Leave it to me.” He barked a laugh. “I know. Weird, right? I’m the organized one?” He started throwing things into the two suitcases one after another with nearly robotic precision and gamjeebeast speed. The suitcases went into the backpacks, and in what seemed like ten seconds flat, they were packed.

Leo sat his Crispin body down on their bed, panting. “It’s… exhausting… doing… you.”

Aspin, standing at the door, grinned. “That’s what he said.”

They both stuck out their tongues and raspberried him in unison.

For the briefest of seconds, Crispin felt normal again. Then he had to pee.

“It’s… I have to… I’ll be right back.” He made a beeline toward the restroom—apparently Mother Nature could overrule Chaos—and stood at the toilet to pee.

Which was weird on several counts. First off, he always sat because, well, less splashage. And second, his… equipment was manifestly not his, and yet he held… it in his hand. He’d always been impressed with it. Leo was no slouch in that department. But being its owner was weird.

He finished his business and tucked the offending member away. Best not to think too hard about it.

The situation. Not it….

Pinch.

He rejoined the others after grabbing Thea from her recharging moss pad on his bedside table, which giggled a little as his fingers brushed it. Why did I let Qyl convince me to get living furniture? “You two ready?”

Aspin rolled his eyes. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Ah, yes. Right. Thea, take us to the Office of the Lost.”

Thea’s screen awoke. “Leo?” Her image’s eyes scrunched up. “Why are you telling me what to do? Only Crispin can do that.” She frowned and disappeared, leaving him staring at a black screen.

He sighed. “Leo, you wanna try?” Crispin held the device out to him.

“Thea, take us to the Office of the Lost. Like now. In an orderly way.” He gave Crispin a thumbs-up.

Crispin tried not to sigh again. It was difficult.

“You got it, boss.” The floor-length mirror on the bedroom wall became a portal, with the office’s Hall of Mirrors on the other side.

Before they could step through, there was a scurrying sound behind them. Minkis scampered into the room, hopped up onto the bed, and from there leapt onto Crispin’s shoulder. He was wearing the most adorable tiny purple backpack. “Hello fae friend,” he chittered into Crispin’s ear.

“You can tell it’s me?” The knot in his chest loosened, just a little.

“Yes, Minkis can. You have acorns. Chaos man never carry acorns for Minkis.”

Leo growled. “Hey, that’s not… no, it’s true.” Leo frowned with Crispin’s face. “I’ll try to do better.”

Crispin pulled out an acorn from his—Leo’s—sweatshirt pocket and handed it to Minkis.

“There is no try. Only do.” The squirrel snickered happily at his own wit.

Leo shook his head, rather prissily, Crispin thought. “Line stealer. Besides, it’s ‘Do or do not. There is no try.’”

“Purist.” Minkis nibbled on his new treat.

Leo growled. “Of course I’m a purist. Star Wars is like my religion⁠—”

Crispin cut off the debate. Leo was starting to sound like… well, Leo. Which in itself was a relief. “All right. Let’s get going. The sooner we see the Oracle, the sooner we can sort out all of this.” Though it might be… intriguing to play with each other’s its before they did.