Toil and Trouble and Bad Decisions [The Misadventures of Theodosius - Book III]

Chapter 13

THEO WAS NOT KNOWN FOR HIS ABILITY TO CONSTRUCT GOOD PLANS, yet here he is again, squarely in the middle of another situation requiring a good plan. Protagonists are usually competent in one or two things, at least, whereas ours has turned out to be rather mediocre overall, hasn't he?

"I can hear you," Theo said. "Firstly, you're hurting my feelings, and secondly, you're being too loud. I need to concentrate."

What he was concentrating on—

"Trying to concentrate on," he interjected with more attitude than I would like—

...was the other part of his plan, which is to say, most of it. He had decided that in order to find Trotter Lane without knowing where Trotter Lane was, he would need to find a vantage point of sufficient height to allow him a view of the city in its entirety, therefrom to scrutinize the street signs until he could identify Trotter Lane and its position in relation to their current locale.

So, "Get high." That was as far as he'd gotten.

"Are you okay?" Franklin asked, watching Theo worriedly with his one openable eye.

"I am thinking." Theo combed his fingers through his scruffy beard, turning around on the street to search their surroundings.

"Which means that no, he isn't okay. If we let him do this for too long, his head will pop off," said Elliott.

"It's no reason to be embarrassed. Happens to me all the time," said Franklin.

"You are utterly repulsive."

"Be quiet! Please!" Theo grabbed the brim of his hat and yanked it down in either a gesture of frustration, or one meant to stopper his ears. Unfortunately, the only real result was a new tear in the seam, which would result in the brim of his sorcerer's hat hanging askew on his noble noggin. "If only we knew someone who could fly."

"There is a ladder over there," said Elliott. He gestured with a paw composed of white bones so tiny and delicate, it was painfully precious to behold. Franklin winced, raising his detached arm to shield his eye.

In a bored drawl, Elliott continued, "Go up to the rooftop, and maybe you'll be able to see where we are."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Theo straightened his hat. "I'll go that way. The two of you stay here, alright? And, actually..." He untethered the glass bottle from his waist and set it carefully on the ground at Franklin's feet. "Tansy, you stay here too. I don't want your bottle to slip and break."

"Oh, my. I wasn't worried about that, but now I will be."

"You'll be perfectly safe," Theo said, although he cast a suspicious glower toward Franklin.

"I don't touch anything breakable," Franklin said.

"His putrescent conglomeration of reanimated flesh is fragile enough," said Elliott.

"At least I have substance!"

"Substance in body does not translate to—"

"Boys, please," said Tansy. "Theo, sweetheart, go on ahead. We'll be fine."