The House in the Cerulean Sea (Cerulean Chronicles, #1)

by T.J. Klune

“Yes,” Daisy said. “That’s exactly it. Marcus made me so happy when he stole my colored pencils that I accidentally threw a chair at him.”

“We’ve had … others,” she said. “Have you? That’s to be expected, of course, but—” “They don’t see the children,” she said. “Not for who they are, only for what they’re capable of.”

“Don’t you wonder?” “Never,” Linus said promptly. Then, “About what?”

“They never stay as children, Mr. Baker. They always grow up eventually.”

He’d learned early on in life that if he didn’t speak, people often forgot he was there or even existed. His mother had told him once when he was a child that he blended in with the paint on the wall, only memorable when one was reminded it was there at all.

DON’T YOU WISH YOU WERE HERE?

SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING! REGISTRATION HELPS EVERYONE!

“I’m not depressed!” She looked him up and down. “You aren’t? Why on earth not?”

Calliope, a thing of evil, sat on the edge of his bed, black tail twitching as she watched him with bright green eyes. She started purring. In most cats, it would be a soothing sound. In Calliope, it indicated devious plotting involving nefarious deeds.

“I have other things to think about. Like tomorrow. Why is it that I must always worry about tomorrows?”

He’d accepted long ago that some people, no matter how good their heart was or how much love they had to give, would always be alone. It was their lot in life, and Linus had figured out, at the age of twenty-seven, that it seemed to be that way for him. Oh, there was no specific event that brought along this line of thinking. It was just that he felt … dimmer than others. Like he was faded in a crystal-clear world. He wasn’t meant to be seen.

“Chin up. For all you know, maybe it’s a promotion. A big promotion. One with higher pay and you’ll finally be able to go on that vacation you’ve always dreamed about. The sand on the beach. The blue of the ocean. Don’t you wish you were there?” He did. He wished it greatly.

“They’re waiting for you.” Linus took a step back. “Who is?” “All of them,” she said as she looked him up and down. “All of Extremely Upper Management.”

But then lights began to shine at his feet, illuminating a pathway before him. They were soft and yellow, like a brick road.

well, he is a friend of dorothy

“I have here your last six reports, Mr. Baker. Do you want to know what I see?” No, Linus didn’t. “Please.” “I see someone who is very thorough. No nonsense. Clinical to a startling degree.”

All children, no matter their … disposition or what they’re capable of, must be protected regardless of the cost.”

“Why me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Because there’s really no one else we can trust,” the woman said simply. That should have filled Linus with a sense of pride. Instead, he felt nothing but dread curling in his stomach.

One month, Mr. Baker. You will spend one month on the island where the orphanage is located.

“Yes,” Ms. Bubblegum said sympathetically. “Sounds like quite the existential crisis. Perhaps consider having it somewhere else.”

Linus turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat. It was as if the rain clouds had reached as far as they could. The gray darkness gave way to a bright and wonderful blue like Linus had never seen before.

There’s an island near the village. Takes a ferry to get to it, if you’re so inclined. Most aren’t.”

“Either get in or don’t, Mr. Baker. Frankly, I would prefer if you didn’t. The Department in Charge of Magical Youth is a farce, and you seem to be nothing but a clueless lackey. I’d have no problem leaving you here. I’m sure the train will be back at some point. It always is.”

don’t look like I expected.” He didn’t know what to do with that. He’d never really been seen before.

“Are the others worse?” She ripped off her sunglasses, looking at him sharply. “It can’t be any worse because there’s nothing wrong with any of them. They’re children.”

She bared her teeth. “I was never in the system, Mr. Baker. My line is far older than the rules of men. Just because you have decided that all magical beings need to be tagged in the wild for tracking doesn’t give you the right to question me or my legal status.”

“I’ve never heard of this place before,” he admitted as they drove past. “The village. Is it nice?” “Depends on your definition of nice. To you, probably. To me, no.”

Arthur—Mr. Parnassus—sent me as an act of good faith. To show you how serious he is. He knows the kind of person you can be. He hopes you can be that person here.”

There, standing in the grass, was a man. He was unlike anyone Linus had ever seen before. He was spindly. His light hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles. It was starting to gray around his temple. His dark eyes were bright and glittering in the near-dark. His aquiline nose had a bump in the center, as if it’d been broken once long ago and never set right. He was smiling, hands clasped in front of him. His fingers were long and elegant as he twiddled his thumbs. He wore a green peacoat, the collar pulled up around his neck against the sea breeze. His slacks appeared too short for his long legs, the hems coming up above his ankles, revealing red socks. He wore black-and-white wing tip shoes. “Hello, Mr. Baker,” Arthur Parnassus said, sounding amused. “Welcome to Marsyas Island.”

“Are you going to take our home away from us?” The table fell quiet.

“Do you mind?” he asked, pointing at a stubby pencil on the desk. “Of course,” Mr. Parnassus said. “What’s mine is yours.” Something fluttered in Linus’s stomach.

You should know there’s a chance that you’ll find Chauncey under your bed at one point or another.” That startled Linus. “What? Why?” “Because for the longest time, before he came here, he was called a monster, even by people who should have known better. He was told the stories of monsters hiding under beds whose calling in life was to frighten others. He thought that was who he was supposed to be. That it was his job to scare people, because it’d been ingrained in his … head that was all he was capable of. It wasn’t until he came here that he realized he could be something more.”

“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.”

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 felt strangely bare. “What you see is what you get with me. This is all I am.” “Oh, I doubt that immensely,” he said.

“If that’s true, then he’s supposed to bring about the End of Days!” Linus exclaimed. “He’s six years old.”

And I refuse to believe that a person’s path is set in stone. A person is more than where they come from.”

I will fight for him as I would for any of my children.”

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?”