The House in the Cerulean Sea(24)

A forest sprite.

Linus had only met a handful of sprites before. They tended to be solitary creatures, and the younger they were, the more dangerous. They weren’t in full control of their magic. Once, Linus had seen the aftermath of a young lake sprite who had felt threatened by a group of people on a boat. The water level had risen almost six feet, and what remained of the boat had floated on the choppy surface in pieces.

He didn’t know what had happened to that sprite after he filed his report. That information was above his pay grade.

This sprite however—Phee—reminded him of the lake sprite from years before. She was looking at him distrustfully, her wings twitching. “This him?” she asked. “Doesn’t seem like much.”

“He’s not gullible,” Talia said. “So he has that going for him at least. He brought a cat that escaped.”

“Better not let Lucy find it. You know what he’ll do.”

Linus had to regain control of the situation. They were just children, after all. “My name is Linus Baker. And her name is Calliope. I’m—”

Phee ignored him as she walked by him, the tip of her left wing smacking him in the face. “It’s not in the woods,” she told Talia.

Talia sighed. “I didn’t think so, but figured I’d ask.”

“I need to go get cleaned up,” Phee told her. “If you haven’t found it by the time I’m done, I’ll come back and help.” She glanced back at Linus before walking out of the gazebo toward the house.

“She doesn’t like you,” Talia said. “Don’t feel too bad about it, though. She doesn’t like most people. It isn’t personal, I don’t think. She would just rather you weren’t here. Or alive.”

“I’m sure,” Linus said stiffly. “Now, if you could point me toward—”

Talia clapped her hands in front of her beard. “That’s it! I know where we need to look! They were supposed to be getting it ready for you, and I bet Sal’s got her. He’s good with strays.”

She waddled toward the opposite end of the gazebo before looking over her shoulder at him. “Come on! Don’t you want to get your cat?”

Linus did.

And so he followed.



* * *



Talia led them through the garden around the side of the house that he hadn’t been able to see from the road. The light was fading, and he could see stars appearing overhead. The air was cool now, and he shivered.

Talia, for her part, pointed out every single flower they came across, telling him their names and when she’d planted them. She warned him not to touch them, or she’d have to hit him upside the head with her shovel.

Linus didn’t dare try her. She obviously had a propensity for violence, and he needed to remember that for his reports. This investigation wasn’t off to a great start. He had many concerns. Specifically, that all these children appeared to be scattered about.

“Where is the master of the house?” Linus asked as they left the garden behind. “Why isn’t he keeping an eye out for you?”

“Arthur?” Talia asked. “Why on earth would he?”

“Mr. Parnassus,” Linus insisted. “It’s only polite to refer to him by a proper name. And he should be, because you’re a child.”

“I’m 263 years old!”

“And gnomes don’t reach an age of maturity until they’re five hundred,” Linus said. “You may think me a fool, but that would be a mistake.”

She grumbled something in what Linus was now convinced was Gnomish. “From five in the afternoon until seven, we’re given time for personal pursuits. Arthur—oh, excuse me, Mr. Parnassus—believes we should explore whatever interests us.”

“Highly unusual,” Linus muttered.

Talia glanced at him. “It is? Don’t you do things you like after you get done working?”

Well … yes. Yes, he did. But he was an adult, and that was different. “What if one of you gets hurt while in your personal pursuit? He can’t be lazing about while—”

“He’s not lazing about!” Talia exclaimed. “He works with Lucy to make sure he doesn’t bring about the end of the world as we know it!”

It was about this time that Linus felt his vision gray yet again at the thought of—of this child. This Lucy. He couldn’t believe that such a creature existed without his knowledge. Without the world’s knowledge. Oh, he understood why there was secrecy and could even comprehend the need for it. But the fact that there was a weapon of mass destruction in the body of a six-year-old and the world wasn’t prepared was simply shocking.

“You’ve gone awfully pale,” Talia said as she squinted up at him. “And you’re swaying. Are you ill? If you are, I think we should go back to the garden so you can die there. I don’t want to have to drag you all the way back. You look really heavy.” She reached up and poked his stomach. “So soft.”

Strangely, that simple action managed to clear his vision. “I’m not ill,” he snapped at her. “I’m just … processing.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. If your left upper arm starts to hurt, would you let me know?”

“Why would I—that’s a sign of a heart attack, isn’t it?”