The House in the Cerulean Sea(36)

Linus felt as if he had whiplash. “I would hope for nothing less.”

“Good,” Mr. Parnassus said. “You scare him.”

Linus blinked. “Me? I don’t know that I’ve scared anyone in my life.”

“I highly doubt that’s true. You work for DICOMY, after all.”

“What does that have to do with—”

“And it’s not necessarily you, as in you specifically. It’s what you represent. You’re a caseworker, Mr. Baker. While most of the children here have a vague understanding of what that entails, Sal has firsthand experience with people exactly like you. This is his twelfth orphanage.”

Linus felt his stomach twist. “Twelfth? That can’t be possible! He would—”

“He would what?” Mr. Parnassus asked. “Be shuttled off into one of the Department-run schools that DICOMY seems to be so fond of these days? It’s where the children go after you finish with them, isn’t it?”

Linus started sweating. “I don’t—I don’t suppose I can be sure. I … do what is required of my position, and nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Mr. Parnassus echoed. “How unfortunate. Have you ever been to one of the schools, Mr. Baker? Ever followed up with any of the children after you’ve dealt with them?”

“It’s—that’s the job of upper levels. The Supervisors. I’m merely a caseworker.”

“I highly doubt you’re merely anything. Why are you a caseworker? Why have you never gone beyond this job?”

“Because it’s what I know,” Linus said, a line of sweat dripping down his neck. He didn’t know how the tables had gotten turned so neatly that he hadn’t even noticed. He had to regain control.

“Aren’t you curious?”

Linus shook his head. “I can’t be curious.”

Mr. Parnassus looked surprised. “Why is that?”

“It does me no good. Facts, Mr. Parnassus. I deal in facts. Curiosities lead to flights of fancy, and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

“I can’t imagine a life lived in such a way,” Mr. Parnassus said quietly. “It sounds like no life lived at all.”

“It’s good then that I don’t need your opinion on the matter,” Linus snapped.

“I meant no offense—”

“I’m here to ensure that this place is up to code. To review your procedures to see if the Marsyas Orphanage is following guidelines set by DICOMY to ensure the funding provided to you is being used properly—”

Mr. Parnassus snorted. “Funding? I didn’t expect you to have a sense of humor. How delightful.”

Linus struggled to keep in control of the conversation. “Just because you house children of a more … unusual variety, doesn’t mean I’ll get distracted from the reason I’m here. It’s about the children, Mr. Parnassus. And nothing more.”

He nodded. “I can respect that. While we may be unconventional, I expect you’ll see that I will do anything to keep them safe. As I said previously, the world is a weird and wonderful place, but that doesn’t mean it’s not without its teeth. And it will bite you when you least expect it.”

Linus didn’t know what to do with that. “You don’t leave the island. Or, at least, the children don’t.”

“How do you figure?”

“The van out front. The tires are overgrown with weeds and flowers.”

Mr. Parnassus sat back in his chair again, that strange smile on his face. “Very observant. Of course, it could be Phee or Talia. They do love growing things. But I suspect you wouldn’t believe that.”

“No. I wouldn’t. Why does it look as if it hadn’t been moved in some time?”

“Surely you traveled through the village.”

“I—yes. With Ms. Chapelwhite.” He hesitated. What had she told him as they drove through Marsyas?

The people of Marsyas don’t appreciate our kind.

Sprites?

All magical creatures, Mr. Baker.

Mr. Parnassus nodded, as if he could read Linus’s thoughts. “I can’t say that we’re unwelcome, but it’s intimated that it’s best for everyone if we stay where we are. Rumors tend to run rampant, and trying to get in front of them is like trying to beat back a wall of fire upon a dry field of grass. Though, I expect it helps that the government pays the people of the village for their silence as to the existence of this place. It also doesn’t hurt that with this stipend comes thinly veiled threats of prosecution. It’s easier for everyone if we stay where we are. Fortunately, the island is bigger than it looks and provides what the children need. Ms. Chapelwhite travels into the village for supplies every week or so. They know her, as well as she can be known.”

Linus’s head was swirling. He hadn’t known that people were paid to keep their mouths shut, though he supposed it made a twisted sort of sense. “You don’t leave?”

Mr. Parnassus shrugged. “I’m happy where I am because they’re happy where they are. I suppose we could look about traveling beyond Marsyas and the village, but it hasn’t come up. At least not yet. I expect we’ll have to deal with it one day.”

Linus shook his head as he picked up the notepad and pencil. “Sal. He shifts into a dog.”