The House in the Cerulean Sea(54)

Yes. He would do just that.

He put on the clothes.

They fit perfectly.

He sputtered as he stared at himself in the mirror.

It looked as if he were outfitted for a safari in the wilds of the Serengeti or exploring the jungles of Brazil. He wore tan shorts and a matching tan collared shirt. The buttons toward the top of the shirt had been removed (almost as if they’d been torn off), so it was open at his throat, revealing smooth, pale skin. In fact, he was showing more skin than he could remember, and his legs were as white as a specter. To make matters worse, there were brown socks that rose halfway up his calves, and sturdy boots that felt uncomfortable, as if they’d never been worn.

But the most terrible thing of all was the helmet-style hat that completed the outfit. It felt strange on his head.

So there he stood, staring at his reflection, wondering why instead of looking like an explorer from the adventure stories he’d read as a child (his mother had hated them, so they had to be hidden under his bed and read late at night with a flashlight under his comforter), he looked more like a brown egg with limbs.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I won’t. I really won’t. This is ridiculous. All of this is—”

There was a pounding at the front door.

He frowned as he looked away from the mirror.

The pounding came again.

He sighed. Just his luck.

He went to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it.

There, standing on the porch, were five children, all of whom were dressed in similar explorer outfits. Even Theodore wore a tan vest of sorts that had been tailored to leave room for his wings. He reared back and chirped at Linus loudly before spinning excitedly in a circle.

“Whoa,” Talia breathed, looking him up and down. “You are round. Like me!”

Phee bent over to inspect his kneecaps critically, wings fluttering behind her. “Why are you so pale? Do you not go outside? Ever? You’re almost as clear as Chauncey is.”

Chauncey’s eyes bounced on the end of his stalks. “Hello! I hope you found your clothes properly laundered. If you notice an item missing, it’s because I accidentally lost it and feel really sorry about it. Please still consider rating my service a ten.” He held out a tentacle.

Linus arched an eyebrow at him.

Chauncey sighed as he pulled his tentacle back. “Aw, man.”

Lucy grinned up at Linus over a fake mustache far too large for his face. He, too, wore an explorer outfit, though his was red and he had an eyepatch for reasons Linus didn’t want to know. “Hello, Mr. Baker. I am the leader of this expedition to find the treasure of the island sprite. I’m glad you’ve decided to join up! Most likely, you’ll die a horrible death at the hands and mouths of cannibals who will roast you alive on a spit and then lick the juices from your cracking skin. If you’re lucky, the necrotizing fasciitis will get to you first from a terrible bug bite, and your body will rot out from underneath you until you’re nothing but a pile of bones and bloody pus. It’s going to be wonderful.”

Linus gaped at him.

“Children,” another voice said. “Do give Mr. Baker some room, won’t you?”

Linus looked up to see Arthur standing in front of the guest house, with Sal peering nervously from behind him. Sal was similarly dressed as the other children, and he appeared to be trying to hide his bulk behind Arthur when he saw Linus looking at him. He was unsuccessful, of course, given his size and that Arthur was as thin as a whisper.

Linus felt his throat clog slightly at the sight of the dashing figure Arthur cut in his own ensemble. Instead of tan like the others, his pants and shirt were black, with a red sash across his chest. There was what appeared to be a machete in a scabbard at his waist. He had a mustache like Lucy’s, though it looked far less ridiculous on him. It wiggled slightly as Arthur smiled at him. Linus flushed and looked away. He was suddenly very warm. A warm, round egg with pale limbs.

He’d never cared much about his appearance before. He certainly didn’t need to start now. This was a visit like any other he’d done in the past.

Investigation, he reminded himself.

Not a visit.

He opened his mouth to decline whatever invitation had been offered (and not because he actually believed there would be cannibals, though with Lucy, he couldn’t be sure).

But before he could utter a single word, Lucy jumped from the porch and posed grandly, hands on his hips. “Let the adventure begin!” he bellowed. He began to march toward the thick trees, knees kicking up high with every step he took.

The other children followed. Theodore took flight, hovering above their heads. Sal glanced quickly at Linus and then ran after the others.

“Coming, Linus?” Arthur asked.

“Your mustache is ridiculous,” Linus muttered as he stepped off the porch and stalked after the children.

He pretended he didn’t hear the quiet laughter behind him.



* * *



“Okay,” Lucy said, stopping at the edge of the trees. He turned back toward the group, eyes wide. “As you all know, there is an evil sprite—”

“Hey!” Phee cried.

“Lucy, we don’t call people evil,” Arthur reminded him as Theodore settled on his shoulder. “It isn’t polite.”

Lucy rolled his eyes. “Fine. I take it back. There is a murderous sprite…” He paused, as if waiting for any objections. There were none. Even Phee seemed gleeful. Linus felt the point had been missed entirely, but thought it wise to keep his mouth shut. “A murderous sprite who has a treasure hidden deep in the woods that is ours for the taking. I cannot promise your survival. In fact, most likely even if you make it to the treasure, I will betray you and feed you to the alligators and laugh as they crunch your bones—”