The House in the Cerulean Sea(38)

Linus gaped at him.

Mr. Parnassus sighed as he leaned forward. “Look, Mr. Baker. I know it’s—a lot to swallow, but I’ve had Lucy for a year. There were plans to … well. Let’s just say this was a last resort. Regardless of his parentage, he is a child. And I refuse to believe that a person’s path is set in stone. A person is more than where they come from.”

“Than the sum of their parts.”

Mr. Parnassus nodded. “Yes. Exactly. Lucy might cause fear in the majority of the world, but he doesn’t cause it in me. I’ve seen what he is capable of. Behind the eyes and the demon in his soul, he is charming and witty and terribly smart. I will fight for him as I would for any of my children.”

That didn’t sit right with Linus. “But they’re not yours. You’re the master of the house, not their father. They are your charges.”

Mr. Parnassus smiled tightly. “Of course. A slip of the tongue. It’s been a long day, and I expect tomorrow will bring much of the same. It’s worth it, though.”

“Is it?”

“Of course. I couldn’t see myself doing anything different. Can you?”

“We’re not here to talk about me, Mr. Parnassus,” Linus pointed out.

He spread his hands. “And why is that? You seem to know everything about us. And anything you don’t know can be read in what I’m sure is a meticulous file.”

“Not everything,” Linus said, closing his notebook. “For example, there doesn’t seem to be much information about you. In fact, your file was rather thin. Why is that?”

Mr. Parnassus looked amused again, and Linus wondered what he was missing. “Shouldn’t that be a question for Extremely Upper Management? They’re the ones who sent you here.”

He was right, of course. It was disconcerting how little information there was. Mr. Arthur Parnassus’s file told him nothing more than his age and education. There’d been an odd statement at the end: Mr. Parnassus will be exemplary for the more problematic of children given his capabilities. Linus hadn’t known what to make of that, and now, seeing him face to face only left him with more questions. “I have a feeling they won’t tell me much more than they already have.”

“In that, I suspect you’d be right.”

Linus stood. “I expect full transparency and your cooperation in this investigation.”

Mr. Parnassus laughed. “What happened to this being a visit?”

“That was your word, sir, not mine. We both know what this is. The only reason DICOMY would have sent me here was if there was cause for concern. And I can see why. You have a powder keg under your roof, one more powerful than should ever exist.”

“And he should be found at fault for existing? What choice did he have in the matter?”

That felt like a discussion for when Linus had his wits about him. Or possibly never. The implications alone made him feel faint again. “I am here to see if further action should be taken.”

“Further action,” Mr. Parnassus said, frustration slipping into his voice for the first time. “They have no one, Mr. Baker. No one but me. Do you really think DICOMY would allow someone like Lucy into one of their schools? Think hard before you answer.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Linus said stiffly.

Mr. Parnassus looked toward the ceiling. “Of course it’s not. Because that’s what happens after you’re done, and that’s none of your concern.” He shook his head. “If you only knew.”

“If there isn’t anything amiss, then you have nothing to worry about,” Linus said. “You may think me callous, Mr. Parnassus, but I assure you I do care. I wouldn’t be in this position if I didn’t.”

“I believe that you believe that.” He looked at Linus again. “My apologies, Mr. Baker. Yes, you will do your job, one way or another. But I think if you open your eyes, you’ll see what’s right in front of you rather than what’s listed in a file.”

Linus’s skin felt like it was crawling. He needed to get out of this office. It seemed as if the walls were closing in. “Thank you for your hospitality, even if you didn’t have a choice. I’m going to retire for the night. It’s been a rather eventful day, and I expect more of the same tomorrow.”

He turned and opened the door. Before he shut it behind him, he heard, “Good night, Mr. Baker.”



* * *



Calliope was waiting inside the door when he arrived back at the guest house. He hadn’t come across anyone else since leaving the office, though he heard voices echoing around him behind closed doors. He’d forced himself not to run out the front door.

Calliope spared him a glance before walking through the open door to do her business. The air was cold, and while he waited, he stared up at the main house. Lights shone through the second-floor windows, and he thought he saw movement behind closed curtains. If he remembered the layout of the upper floor correctly, it would be Sal’s room he was seeing.

“Twelve different orphanages,” he muttered to himself. “Something like that should have been in his file. Why on earth would he not have been enrolled in a school?”

Calliope came back inside, purring as she rubbed against his legs. He closed the door and locked it for good measure, though he figured if someone wanted to get in, they could.