by Obert Skye
The beast ripped off a complete roof of a building and shoved it into its windy face. The clouds began to gather above the telt as Dennis lay on the ground screaming and kicking in pain from the blow of the board and the loss of blackness he had showered out.
Tim just stared at Dennis as he lay there.
The telt let out a great, windy belch and released thousands of pieces of debris into the air. Buildings and cars were pummeled with everything the beast coughed up.
The creature was on the move again. It absorbed the whole corner of a building, drawing closer to Dennis and Tim.
Tim looked back down at Dennis and then up to the clouds that had gathered over the telt. Dennis was crying, and the clouds were bunching themselves up like dirty laundry in a tight bin two weeks past wash day.
The monster thrust a couple dozen of its arms down into the road. It then pulled and sucked, drawing the road in like it was a giant, flat noodle—a noodle that had Dennis and Tim on the tip of it. With every foot of road the telt drew in, it grew taller and wider.
Now Tim looked not only baffled but scared. He glanced around frantically as he and Dennis moved closer to the beast.
His right arm burned.
Tim stopped panicking to stare closely at his arm. He then turned his eyes to the clouds. He could hear whispering beneath his skin. He raised his right hand and spread his fingers.
The clouds rumbled, but the telt continued to drag the two men closer. Tim put his hand down and looked at Dennis. Dennis’s skin was as white as a full moon and he was scratching at himself and screaming in pain.
Without thinking, Tim lifted his arm to the sky again. He lost his balance due to the street moving beneath him. He righted himself and stood again.
Tim lifted his arm to the air once more.
The clouds started to pucker and heave violently. Tim covered his own eyes with his left hand, scared to see what he was doing with his right.
The telt was growing rapidly, sucking in any and everything around.
Dennis screamed loud enough to be heard above the noise.
The clouds began to drip blackness, drawn to Tim’s arm. The storm started slowly, but after a few seconds the clouds burst with black moisture, raining down on the telt in an effort to reach Tim.
The telt screamed as the top of it began to dissolve, the water in the air washing away the dirt it was made of.
Tim cracked his fingers on his left hand, gaining the courage to take a peek at what he was doing. The black rain was destroying the telt, washing it away like a weak sand castle under the pressure of a large wave.
The road Tim was standing on stopped moving.
The telt screamed as its face dissolved and washed down a dozen separate sidewalks and roads. Tim kept his hand up, continuing to draw every bit of black from the clouds. As the telt dissolved the water sprayed everywhere, blowing in the dying wind like a dog shaking itself after a bath.
Tim lowered his right hand and a thick stream of black liquid flowed closer. The blackness rolled in like mercury along the street. It circled around Dennis as he lay there, creating a pool of Sabine.
The telt was dead, and the last bits of Sabine had returned to Dennis. His body sponged up the influence, and in a few seconds Dennis was back up on his feet, dusting himself off.
“Now,” Dennis said, “let’s hope our uneven piece of street has not been bothered.”
“Ezra?” Tim asked, looking around.
“Who?” Dennis said coldly. “I suppose he was crushed . . .”
“Who?” Ezra seethed, hopping up from the street and onto Tim’s left shoulder. “I suppose your memory is as clever as your smarts.”
Dennis ignored the comment.
“I had to drag myself out a fallen building,” Ezra seethed. “You only had to fall like rain and drip yourself back to that noodle of a body.”
Dennis paid Ezra no mind. He was already moving across the ruined street and over to a large purple van with a small woman sitting in the driver’s seat. The woman was staring out of her windshield, trying to make sense of all that was going on around her.
Dennis pulled open her front door. “Excuse me,” he barked. “We need your vehicle.”
“Entschuldigung?” she asked.
“Yeah, yeah, you speak German,” Dennis seethed. “How about this: Aust!”
“Was ist los?”
Dennis pulled her up out of her seat and set her on the sidewalk. Her purse dropped to the ground. Dennis slipped into the driver’s seat and commanded Tim to get in the other side.
Tim picked up the woman’s purse and handed it to her. She clutched it tightly and winced, as if Tim were going to hurt her.
“What a Boy Scout,” Ezra mocked. “Get in, noodle boy.”
The woman looked at the talking toothpick on Tim’s shoulder and decided that now might be a good time for her to run.
Tim got in the passenger’s side and shut his door. Dennis started the van and pulled out onto a small, clear street. People were still running around crying and partially fearing for their lives. The telt was dead, but the scene was almost as frightening without it.
A whole building was gone.
Streets had been sucked up.
Cars were lying on their sides or on sidewalks, and people were screaming as the sound of sirens filled the air.
“What a bunch of babies,” Ezra spat from the position of Tim’s left shoulder while he stared out the car window. “A little excitement falls in their laps and they cry about it.”
Dennis punched the gas, and Tim and Ezra flew back. He drove the van down a service alley and out over a pedestrian walkway. Traffic was knotted up everywhere, but Dennis was finding that with a little creativity, they could make their way around just fine.
Dennis stopped the van and pointed to a corner where two sidewalks matched up unevenly.
“That’s it?” Ezra laughed. “The entire place is ripped apart and you still choose a tiny, uneven gap?”
“You can’t design uneven gaps,” Dennis said. “Fate creates them.”
Dennis moved to get out of the van.
“It’s not dark enough yet,” Ezra pointed out snidely.
“Do you think, with all that’s going on, that someone is going to care about a couple of people digging up a piece of street?”
Tim shook his head as if he were actually part of the conversation.
“Nice of fate to cover for us,” Dennis said.
Ezra smiled, agreeing with Dennis for once.
Tim got out of the van and began to carefully dig up the sidewalk.
Chapter Eleven
A Little Time
The ride out of the Red Grove and toward the Devil’s Spiral was gorgeous. The yellow fields of late tavel were laced with green ribbons of Tea birds gliding and flying in long, interlacing patterns. The smaller sun was being mischievous, bobbing up and down in the air as if following the whims of the wind. While the little sun played, the big sun was reaching out and trying to touch places it had not lit before, its rays curving and poking into any dark hole or surface they could find. The blue sky yawned, and as the blood raced to its face, it turned a beautiful shade of purple. It was morning, but a large patch of stars had refused to leave, and they were now bedazzling the over end of Foo’s sky. A Lore Coil set off somewhere many miles away by the marriage of two lovers rippled through the air and left Winter’s heart happy.
Geth rode up next to her. He smiled as they rode, his long hair and dark eyes so completely un-toothpick-like.
The onicks followed a small stone path that cut through the fields of tavel and led directly to the Devil’s Spiral. As the road crested slightly, there within view was the top of the water tower created by the Spiral. They were many miles away, but Winter was mesmerized by how high the water shot into the air. Despite the desperation of their journey, she couldn’t help but take a second to be amazed.
“It’s unbelievable,” she hollered to Geth.
Geth pulled
on his onick’s reins, bringing his ride to a stop. Winter did the same.
“I keep forgetting,” Geth smiled.
“Forgetting what?” Winter asked.
“That you’ve forgotten.”
“I’ve been here before?”
“Of course,” Geth answered. “You rode this path with me and Sabine many years ago.”
“Sabine?” Winter questioned uncomfortably.
“We were bringing him to Lith.”
“How’d that turn out?” Winter smiled.
“It could have gone better,” Geth answered. “But just look what fate has done with the results.”
“What?” Winter asked. “We got Leven here, but now he’s gone. The rants and anyone they can convince are gathering for war, and the state of the secret is unknown. And I am giftless and incomplete.”
“Yeah, but the suns are shining,” Geth said, his eyes laughing.
“I suppose that makes it all better,” Winter joked.
“It makes it much more bearable,” Geth said.
“You lithens are a weird bunch.”
Geth grinned and handed Winter a leather bag with a wooden toggle at the end. She pulled the toggle down and took a long drink. She was surprised by the taste.
“I thought this was water,” she said. “It tastes like milk.”
Geth took the bag from her and took a drink. “You’re right. It was water at one point. I guess it’s still trying to find itself.”
Winter nudged her onick forward again, and Geth raced past her toward a field of tavel. She had just spurred her mount to overtake him when a huge snap sounded, followed by the noise of heavy air whistling through a thin tube.
Geth’s onick wouldn’t move at all. It was hovering in mid-stride above the ground. Geth looked at Winter out of the corner of his eye, and she too was sitting there motionless, her eyes facing forward. Geth could see Tea birds stuck in the sky, getting nowhere. The windblown tavel had stopped moving. There was no sound whatsoever.
Time had stopped.
Geth would have taken a moment to wonder what was going on, but his thoughts were consumed by a tall being walking out of the tavel. The person wore a blue robe with black leather boots and held a blue kilve in his right hand.
“Hello, Geth,” the man said, pushing back the hood of his own robe. “Nice to see you again.”
“Azure,” Geth whispered slowly, barely able to speak in his frozen state.
Azure was tall, with black hair and deep blue eyes. He had lived for many years but, like Geth, still looked very young. His features were handsome and perfect, except for his left ear, which was swollen and bleeding. He walked around Geth, looking at him as if Geth were a used car he was considering purchasing.
“Back at last,” Azure said, laughing slightly. “Here to set Foo right.”
Azure stopped circling and looked Geth in the eyes.
“Hurray for all of us,” he smirked.
Geth couldn’t move to respond.
“I thought about playing nice,” Azure added. “You know, pretending like I was happy you were here and all, but I’ve got to be honest with myself these days. Fortunately, the only good I have left to deal with is contained in this one ear.” He scratched violently at his left ear, making it ooze.
Although Geth couldn’t move, his heart sank. Not only was Azure a lithen, but he had always been a true defender of Foo.
Azure stepped up even closer to Geth.
“I know what you must be thinking,” Azure said. “Things change, Geth. Your mission was simple. Me, I was left to appease the Want and to defend a place that too few care about any longer. You left us. You let Zale die and then you ran like a coward.”
Without warning, Azure hit Geth on the right side of his face. Geth’s cheek bled, but the wound didn’t hurt half as much as the surprise of Azure’s betrayal. Azure hefted his kilve in his right hand and swung, hitting Geth from the other side.
Geth sat there helpless.
Azure flipped the kilve and pushed the pointed end up under Geth’s chin.
Geth’s eyes burned, exposing the strength of his soul.
“This is too easy,” Azure laughed. “Way too easy. I could kill you now, but there’s still something I need from you.”
Azure sniffed and brushed his free hand through his dark hair. He moved from Geth over to Winter.
“Ah, and Winter,” he said with pity in his voice. “Poor girl. How hard it must be to have your gift taken from you. How fortunate Jamoon was able to accomplish at least one thing before he perished.”
Azure brushed Winter’s cheek with his hand.
“What a lovely restoration,” he said with passion. “Of course, you were beautiful before you left us. Beautiful and misguided. I wonder how you would respond to my advances now?”
Winter wished desperately that she could spit.
Azure put his other hand on Winter’s shoulder and smiled.
“Perhaps there’s something you—”
“Come on,” a little fidgety voice whined from out of the tavel. “You asked for five minutes. It’s been more than that.”
“Don’t move,” Azure commanded the voice.
Neither Winter nor Geth had noticed the little man hiding in the long tavel. He wasn’t any taller than the grain, but he looked bothered, his large face flat and white. He had a wide, blue mustache and knoblike ears. He held his arms to his sides, looking as if he were fighting himself to stand still.
Azure looked bothered.
“I knew you would be coming this way, making your way to the Want,” Azure said, turning his attention back to Geth. “How predictable. Luckily our cause has Time on its side.”
Azure pointed to the little man.
“He’s not always around when you need him,” Azure said, stepping up to the little man and placing his arm around him. “But I have found his services very helpful. He has given me a pass to move, and a guarantee that his intentions are in our favor. Yes, he can be argumentative and stubborn, but with the right persuasion even Time has his price. Of course, as you can see, he won’t stand still for long.”
“I won’t stand still a second longer if you don’t pay me what you promised,” Time said, looking up at Azure while trying hard to stay still.
Azure removed his arm from around Time and pulled a handful of metal coins from his own robe. He handed the coins to Time.
Both Time and Geth gasped.
“And they’re metal even,” Time whispered in awe. “Do you have more?”
“Plenty,” Azure said. “And we will need you to finish things off when the time comes. Now, if you don’t mind, you might want to close your eyes. I need to teach Geth a couple of things.”
Time squeezed his eyes shut. Azure moved to Geth and smiled wickedly.
“The Want made it clear that I am to bring you to Lith. Unfortunately for you, he never mentioned what kind of condition you needed to be in.”
Azure turned. “And you, Winter,” he whispered. “What is to become of our dear Winter?”
As Azure stepped up to Winter, Time twisted to look away, and in doing so he dropped two of his newly acquired coins. He moved to pick them back up, giving Winter just enough time to spit in Azure’s direction.
Normally spitting is a dirty habit—a socially unacceptable thing to do unless there is some sort of organized contest involved. Unfortunately, Time hadn’t moved enough for the spit to reach Azure. So it froze in the air inches away from his face.
It wasn’t pretty.
Azure looked at the spit hanging in the air. “Some people just don’t know how to behave,” he said.
“Sorry about that,” Time called out. “It’s just so hard to stand still.”
Azure took out a long piece of rope from his robe pocket and began to bind Geth’s hands while Time stood still, slowly counting his money.
ii
“That was weird,” Clover said, looking around. “Is it me, or did we just lose about fifteen minutes of t
ime?”
“It’s you,” Leven said as he climbed up the wet path behind the waterflight. “Or maybe it just feels like time is going so slowly because you’re sitting on my head letting me do all the work.”
“One of us needs to be rested.”
“For what?”
“Who knows what’s up ahead?”
“More steps,” Leven said sarcastically.
Clover shivered.
The stairway behind the waterflight was wide and wet. Light shone through the water as it fell up. Leven could see where he was going, but he couldn’t see details. At the moment, all of Foo looked like an endless, black, stone stairway.
“So what do you know about the Want?” Leven asked, his breath labored and heavy.
“There’s no one more important in Foo.”
“Have you met him?”
“No, but I had a teacher who had,” Clover answered. “He said that even being in the same room is tiring. The Want sees all dreams. He’s the only soul who truly knows what the current state of Foo is. Of course, they also say that all those dreams have made him a bit touched. Oh, and that there is something up with his eyes and you should never point that out to him.”
“Really?” Leven asked. “What’s up with his eyes?”
“I don’t know,” Clover insisted. “Maybe they’re crossed, or all googly. I know a sycophant who has two different colors of eyes. Maybe that’s it. Some people are so touchy. If I had two different colors of eyes, I’d be fine with people bringing it up.”
“I bet that’s not it,” Leven said, struggling up a huge step.
“You’re probably right,” Clover sighed contently. “Antsel met with the Want a number of times. Of course, Antsel was always really decent and would never bring up someone’s eyes. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was such a . . .”
Leven cleared his throat.
“Oh, not that he was better than you, just different,” Clover waved. “It’s apples and plussums. For example, you like to . . . do certain things, I’m sure, and Antsel liked to read the dirt and the stars.”