Geth and the Deception of Dreams

by Obert Skye

  “So we’re heading to that hill in the middle of the valley?” Clover asked.

  Geth nodded.

  “And this Lars fellow is good?” Clover questioned.

  “Everyone seems to think so.”

  Clover bounced from off of Geth and onto Zale.

  “Do you mind?” Zale complained.

  “Not at all,” Clover insisted, thinking that Zale was commenting on the fact that Clover had to sit on Zale’s bony shoulder. “Listen, what do you know about this Lars?”

  “I’ve heard his name mentioned on occasion,” Zale replied, still bothered that Clover was on him. “Last I was in Foo, sycophants were not supposed to sit on shoulders without permission.”

  “I know,” Clover said with relief. “I’m just as happy as you that times have changed. So what have you heard about Lars?”

  “I didn’t hear much down in my cell,” Zale grumbled. “Just years of beautiful solitude. But there has been mention of this Lars and that some of these Stone Holders and women in Zendor think he’s wise. Payt loathes him and thinks he’s a joke.”

  “I like jokes,” Clover said innocently.

  Clover leapt back to Geth.

  “Hey, toothpick,” Clover said casually. “Do you think . . . um . . .”

  “Do I think um?” Geth asked, beginning to walk faster as he and Zale shook off all traces of sleep.

  “Well, actually . . .” Clover disappeared.

  “Are you okay?” Geth asked.

  There was a long pause followed by a soft gasp.

  “Listen,” Geth said seriously. “It makes me uncomfortable to have you gasping so soon after eating something from your void.”

  “Sorry,” Clover said, his voice filled with concern.

  “So are you okay?” Geth asked. “Show yourself.”

  “Just keep walking,” Clover said frantically.

  “What’s happening?” Zale asked from behind Geth.

  “Clover ate something that’s not sitting well with him.”

  “What’d he eat?” Zale asked.

  “He doesn’t know,” Geth replied.

  “Actually, I remember now,” Clover said sadly. “It was candy.”

  “What kind of candy?” Zale asked. “I haven’t had candy in years. It seems like you could have shared.”

  “You don’t want what he’s got,” Geth insisted.

  “What kind of candy was it?” Zale asked, honestly jealous of Clover.

  “Wart Wax,” Clover moaned.

  The sound of something small and popping could be heard.

  “They feel weird,” Clover panicked.

  “What feels weird?” Zale asked.

  “The warts,” Clover answered.

  “Get off!” Geth yelled, brushing at an invisible Clover on his shoulder.

  “Hey!” Clover hollered back, jumping onto Zale.

  “I think he’s on me!” Zale yelled while batting at the air. “Get him off of me!”

  “I’m not on you anymore,” Clover said, clinging to the front of Geth.

  Geth reached forward and grabbed at the air in front of him. His hands closed in on an invisible Clover.

  “Is that you?” Geth said, bewildered. “It feels like . . .”

  Clover materialized. Geth and Zale screamed in unison.

  “Is it bad?” Clover cried.

  “It’s horrible,” Geth yelled back.

  Clover looked like a gray, bloated watermelon covered in lumpy warts. His eyes were sunken and surrounded by nubby growths the size of marbles. His fingers and toes were riddled with bumps and bits that stuck out all over. Geth stopped running, stunned, and Zale plowed into the back of him. Clover popped out of Geth’s hands and bounced against the ground and back up into the air. Geth was tempted to not even catch him, but his conscience got the best of him and he reached out. He snagged Clover with his left hand and set him on the ground.

  “What’s happening?” Geth asked, backing away from Clover.

  “It’s the candy,” Clover said. “I remember trying some years ago. I shouldn’t have eaten the entire glob, but I didn’t know what it was. They itch.”

  “Serves you right, not sharing your candy,” Zale complained.

  “Do you hear yourself?” Geth asked in exasperation. “If he had shared, you’d look just as awful.”

  Clover started to cry harder.

  “It’s okay,” Geth said, calming down. “It’ll wear off, right?”

  Clover nodded his thick, knobby head. “Eventually.”

  “Don’t cry,” Geth said with compassion. “I’m sure the itching will stop soon.”

  “I’m not crying because of the itching,” Clover sniffed. “I’m crying because warts are contagious.”

  Geth and Zale both stepped back in horror as warts began to pop and expand like hot corn all over their arms and legs. Geth looked down at his limbs and began to scratch. Zale ran in a circle, swatting at his chest and torso.

  “Running won’t help,” Clover insisted as he scratched violently at all the warts on his own body. “I think I’m starting to ooze!”

  Zale paused to scream louder.

  Geth sat down on the ground, scratching and tearing at his arms. Clover tried to apologize, but his mouth was so covered with bumps that he could no longer speak clearly.

  “Wadda hepps.”

  “What?” Geth yelled.

  “I ting wadda hepps.”

  “Water helps,” Zale screamed, deciphering Clover’s words.

  Clover took off waddling as fast as he could toward the amber-colored river. Zale became so swollen that his legs popped out from beneath him and he fell to the ground. Geth kicked at his brother and rolled him like a log. All three of them crashed into the water, violently kicking and hitting at one another. Clover went under and popped up, gasping for air. Zale got caught under Geth as Geth tried to swim with swollen arms and legs.

  “Iffing!” Zale yelled.

  “Wraveeet!” Geth yelled back.

  The cold water washed over them all, soothing their condition and rapidly reversing the swelling. The three of them went floating downstream, holding onto one another and trying to get their bearings. The river grew calm as all three of them returned to normal and drifted downriver. As soon as Zale could speak clearly, he looked pointedly at Clover.

  “You should have shared,” he said, spitting river water out of his mouth as he spoke. “I would have at least gotten something out of this.”

  Clover climbed up onto Geth’s head looking almost back to normal—soaking wet, but back to normal.

  “Sorry,” Clover tried to apologize.

  “You’re cleaning that pocket out,” Geth said seriously as the water got swifter. “There are some things in there that should never be used.”

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take inventory of what’s in here,” Clover said, patting his robe. “But I’m not throwing out everything.”

  Geth tried to turn and begin swimming toward the shore, but the water was now moving too fast to swim against.

  The three of them hit up against a large, smooth rock in the middle of the river. They twisted around it and shot farther downstream. Up ahead there were more rocks sticking out of the water and blocking their path.

  “Where are the Waves when you need them?” Clover asked, referring to the Waves of the Lime Sea that lived in Foo and guarded the island of Alder.

  “Just hold on!” Geth yelled.

  They hit against a stone and were twisted around in the water. Geth’s body slammed against another rock, and Clover popped off of his head. Clover grabbed at Geth’s hair and got just enough to keep from flying off completely.

  A third rock jutting out of the river broke up Geth and Zale and sent the brothers to opposite sides of the river. The wat
er became even swifter, and giant fists of foam pounded their heads and roared in their ears. Geth tried to swim, but the water was too strong. Clover looked back and couldn’t see anyone.

  “Geth!” Clover yelled.

  There was no answer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Amber Waves of Sane

  I wonder how many of you have ever found yourself trapped in the high branches of a tree. I’d like to think that it is something that happens to everyone. Of course, even if I believed that, I still wouldn’t believe that it happens three times to everyone. I don’t know how to explain it, but I just have a very difficult time getting out of trees when something with claws and teeth has chased me up one. Yes, being treed is not the most comfortable feeling. There is, however, one scenario where I would love to be stuck in a tree, and that scenario involves a tree house. There’s nothing better than a home that has mysteriously settled in the limbs of a tree. It makes every home that has ever been built on the ground look foolish and unambitious.

  In conclusion, tree houses are great.

  Geth and Zale were pulled from the water by a muscular man with big arms and thin legs. He had a thick mustache that hung over both sides of his mouth like a hairy horseshoe. His head was covered with graying blond hair and he had two deep blue eyes placed perfectly over a long, thin nose.

  Geth and Zale had somehow washed up softly onto a sandy bank on the side of the river. They had never had a chance to drown because the river had held them and deposited them without so much as a scratch or a lung full of liquid. The moment they washed up, they were discovered by the man who now was fussing over them. Clover had been clinging to Zale, and as a safety precaution he was keeping invisible and silent.

  “The river is like a genie,” the man said. “It grants all my wishes.”

  “You wished for two people to get caught in your net?” Geth asked.

  “I wished for you to get caught, Geth,” he said. “The fact that your brother is with you is the icing on the cake.”

  Zale moaned as he lay against the ground. “We almost drowned.”

  “No,” the man insisted. “That river would never allow that.”

  “You must be Lars,” Geth said, coughing.

  “Correct,” Lars replied. “I saw you enter the valley. I have a great vantage point and a strong telescope. I was wishing for you to make your way to me.”

  “Your wish wasn’t necessary,” Geth pointed out. “We came here to find you.”

  “Still,” Lars said, winking. “I prefer to think I wished you here. I also prefer that others think that as well. It’s amazing how far a little lore goes in creating an intriguing reputation.”

  Zale looked confused.

  “We’re happy we can help add to your reputation,” Geth said sincerely.

  “Thank you,” Lars said. “Now, I must warn you I don’t have many visitors, and I get confused sometimes about whether I’m talking to myself or talking to others. Hopefully what I say makes sense.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Zale said, having the same kind of problems himself.

  “But I’m very wise,” Lars added.

  “That’s what we’ve heard,” Geth said. “And obviously confident.”

  “Sorry,” Lars said, confused. “Should I not be so sure of myself? It’s just that most of the smart people I’ve met in my life are always quick to point out how intelligent they are. I only said that to fit in. I’m trying to be honest with you.”

  “I appreciate that,” Geth said.

  “Perfect,” Lars cheered.

  “You two talk way too much,” Zale complained, wringing water out of his dark beard.

  “Tell me, Lars, how do you know who we are?” Geth asked, ignoring his brother.

  “I have those who inform me,” Lars admitted.

  “So then you know why we’re here?”

  “I do,” Lars said taking a seat on a stump near Zale. “You wish to rally the troops. Return of the lithens and all that stuff. How exciting. You’ll rescue us all.”

  “It doesn’t look like you’re too hard up,” Zale observed, opening his eyes all the way and joining the conversation.

  “Ah,” Lars said happily. “And you’re Zale—Payt’s most famous prisoner—a lithen that gave up.”

  Zale’s nostrils flared, but otherwise he didn’t move.

  “How do you know so much?” Geth asked curiously.

  “Every tunnel that leads into this valley brings news and information that I use to my advantage,” Lars said. “I’d be happy to tell you more, but I must insist that we continue this conversation in my home. It will add greatly to my legend to have had lithens as guests. Now, where’s your sycophant?”

  Geth and Zale stared at Lars.

  “The fuzzy thing I saw you arguing with,” Lars clarified. “I must say I am most curious about meeting him. I know so little about the silly creatures.”

  Geth could feel an invisible Clover squeezing his neck to let him know he was there.

  “Who knows?” Geth said, trying to act callous. “That particular sycophant is a pest. The river probably consumed him.”

  “And you don’t care?” Lars asked.

  “Sycophants are like rats,” Zale added.

  Lars shrugged. “I suppose you should know about rats, having spent so much time in the dungeons.”

  Lars stood up and helped Geth to his feet. Geth then helped Zale, and the three of them walked toward the center of the valley. Lars kept a good twenty-foot lead.

  “I don’t trust him,” Zale whispered to Geth.

  “Good,” Geth whispered back. “I don’t either.”

  Clover squeezed Geth’s neck to let him know that he too found Lars to be less than trustworthy.

  “So, Lars,” Geth called out as they all walked, “are you the only one who lives in this valley?”

  “Yes,” Lars answered, motioning for them to walk faster. “This is my home.”

  “The whole place?” Zale said, disgusted.

  “I discovered it,” Lars said. “No Stone Holders or women among Those Who Hide live here. Can you imagine? If I let one live here, a thousand more would demand I let them come too.”

  “So the air is fit for them to breathe?” Geth said, growing upset.

  “Of course,” Lars said. “It’s the same air as in every other part of Zendor. Just because the mountains surrounding me reach the clouds doesn’t mean we have our own oxygen. I just don’t like others living too close, and their brains are smooth enough that they buy the lie and stay away.”

  “Do you mean to sound so selfish?” Geth asked, bothered, but giving Lars the benefit of the doubt. “Is this what you meant by not knowing how to talk right?”

  “Listen,” Lars said calmly, “not to be rude, but I am allowing you to be here because I am curious about you. I’m allowing you. But don’t think for a moment that I couldn’t do away with you both if I wanted.”

  Both Geth and Zale were so shocked by the sudden turn in Lars’s personality that they almost stumbled.

  “Not to be rude,” Lars reiterated.

  “No, that doesn’t sound rude at all,” Geth said sarcastically.

  “I’m glad you understand,” Lars replied. “Now come.”

  They hiked quickly across the landscape, and in no time they had reached the small hill at the center of the valley. They climbed up a long brick stairway that wound through the trees and up the hill. Zale seemed to grow stronger with each step. His breathing was labored, but his legs and body were working well.

  They reached the top of the stairs, where there was a large cluster of fantastically tall trees. Their trunks were as thick as houses and their tops were so high above them that Geth and Zale couldn’t see them clearly from where they stood.

  “Come,” Lars said. “Come.”

 
Lars led them to a swing that hung from one of the high branches. The swing was just a piece of smooth wood with two long ropes tied to it and another rope dangling nearby.

  “Take a seat,” Lars told Zale.

  Zale cautiously sat on the swing and held onto the ropes. He lifted his feet, resting all his weight on the swing and rocking gently.

  “Normally people can easily pull themselves up,” Lars said. “But your arms look like twigs.”

  Lars grabbed the rope that was dangling near the swing and began to pull. Easily and without any jerking motion the swing began to rise. Zale looked a bit shocked as he ascended upward into the tree branches. He held onto the ropes and hollered down.

  “Where am I going?”

  “You’ll see,” Lars said. “When you reach the platform, let the swing drop.”

  Zale looked up as he rose higher and higher. Lars pulled the rope effortlessly, and soon Zale was lost in the branches and no longer visible from below.

  “You live in the trees?” Geth asked with a bit of jealousy.

  “Among them,” Lars replied. “I feel there’s nothing finer to surround oneself with than trees.”

  “I think that’s the most sensible thing you’ve said,” Geth agreed.

  Lars pulled for a little while longer and then felt the rope tug tight. He waited for a moment, then slowly let the rope feed back up through his hands. It took a few seconds, but the empty swing soon descended from above like a heavenly messenger of rope and wood. The swing dropped completely. It rocked slightly in the light wind.

  “I think I’ll go next,” Lars said. “As much as it delights me to have two lithens in my home, I’m not sure how I feel about having two unattended lithens in my home. I’ll ascend and drop the swing.”

  “Good,” Geth said happily. “I’ll finally get a few minutes alone.”

  “Snarky,” Lars observed as he sat on the swing and took hold of the rope. “See you in the leaves.”

  Lars began to tug on the rope and pull himself up. The swing lifted quickly, and in a matter of seconds Geth was alone. A couple of seconds later, Clover finally spoke from the direction of Geth’s left shoulder.

  “Is snarky even a word?” Clover whispered in disgust. “I think that guy’s just making things up.”