Leven Thumps: The Complete Series

by Obert Skye

  “First Want?” Leven asked.

  “There have been three before me,” the Want answered. “That’s not important now. As dreams increased, more and more beings and creatures were introduced into our realm. It seemed as if powerful dreams were penetrating our borders daily, bringing to life some new animal or object. At first it was wonderful. The use of metal was allowed, and people created and manipulated dreams as if it were an honor.

  “People accepted their fate.

  “But there began to be problems, most of them surfacing around the misuse of metal. Some railed against what they perceived as bondage and talked of re-creating the seven keys and unleashing the power that would help them overturn fate. Nits began to build weapons, and the dreams they manipulated were filled with their thoughts of war and killing. So there was division between the nits and the cogs. The ungifted cogs felt as if Foo had done them wrong. Then, as more and more rants were born to nits and cogs, an even greater unbalance began to crop up in the hearts of those who should know better. Great wars ensued over the use of metal. In the end, hundreds of thousands died and all metal was stripped from buildings and homes and buried by the roven.”

  Leven’s eyes widened.

  “For years after the wars things seemed better,” the Want continued. “Then your grandfather made the tragic mistake of finding a way out. Foolish—such a stupid mistake. Most here accepted their fate before that, but when people began to envision the possibility of returning to Reality still possessing their Foo-found gifts, their hearts became selfish and misguided. And the soil took on a life of its own.”

  “What do you mean?” Leven asked.

  “The real evil in Foo lies beneath our feet.”

  Eegish looked down.

  “It seems as if the very soil of Foo hungers to touch the physical,” the Want said. “There was something in the act of burying the metal and covering it with gunt that woke the dirt. It in turn began to feed off the bodies of those who had been buried but their dark souls had never been lifted.”

  “Dark souls?”

  “Those who live nobly are lifted up. But those who have chosen otherwise are absorbed into the soil, increasing the power of the Dearth. It pulses with their evil desires and now wishes to touch Reality and taste the earth there . . .”

  The Want stopped himself and looked at Leven.

  “I’ve said too much,” he apologized. “Don’t let the haze of my words distract you from what you must do. The time will come, Leven, when you will have to choose to save Foo or step down and let the evil have complete control.”

  “I would do almost anything for Foo.”

  “Silence,” the Want whispered fiercely. “I don’t want your assurance. There will come a day, very soon, when fate will put you where you must stand. There you will hear my voice and see the means by which you can accomplish the task. You will know clearly what you must do. And whereas you have a choice, you cannot fail.”

  Leven trembled, looking away. He saw his image reflected in the glass wall. The white streak in his hair seemed more prominent and the gold had returned to his eyes.

  “If you do ignore fate, it’s over.”

  “Are you saying there’s no hope?” Leven asked, irritated.

  The Want stared at Leven. Or at least that was the way his head was turned. It was impossible to tell what he was looking at through the hood that covered his eyes.

  “There’s only one way,” the Want spoke dryly.

  “Tell me,” Leven said, feeling the fire that made his eyes burn. “What will I have to do?”

  The Want shivered.

  “I gave you that key so that you would trust me,” the Want breathed. “The time will come when you will hear my voice in your head. At that moment, fate will place before you the way to do what you must do. There is evil much darker than what is at hand. Do you remember the secret of the sycophants?”

  “I wish I didn’t.”

  “You know more than any,” the Want said softly. “Geth was wise to bring you here. You are hope to me.”

  “Where is Geth?” Leven asked uncomfortably. “And Winter?”

  “Don’t worry about them,” the Want sighed. “Their future is theirs to make right. But I will tell you that death has them in view.”

  “You can’t mean that,” Leven said, standing.

  “You can’t bend fate,” the Want warned.

  “Where are they?”

  “They’ll be here soon enough,” the Want said.

  Eegish took Leven’s right hand and tried to soothe him.

  “No,” Leven said, pulling his hand away and looking at the Want with burning gold eyes. “You brought me here to tell me that my friends are dying? And that the only way I can stop all of this is to do something so unspeakable I can’t even know what it is?”

  “Such a hot soul,” the Want said. “One day you will speak to me in softer tones. I see every dream that comes in. Even now, millions of dreams circle around my eyes, begging to be seen and realized. I know what you will do, Leven. I knew the moment Antsel left with Geth and Winter that one day you would stand before me and accept the task I am handing you now.”

  “I can’t just blindly accept!” Leven argued.

  “Then you know nothing of fate.”

  “You’re talking about killing, aren’t you?”

  “I’m talking about saving the whole of Foo.”

  “You do it,” Leven said passionately.

  “I wish I could,” the Want lamented. “But fate will not allow me.”

  “I need to see Geth.”

  “Let’s hope, for your sake, that fate feels the same way,” the Want said. “As it stands, you will most likely never see him again.”

  Leven had never felt sicker.

  The Want unsealed the door to the shaft of unfinished thoughts, and Clover came out wearing a small velvet hat with a feather in it. He had shoes on his feet and was carrying a stuffed animal under each arm. In his mouth was a stick of candy.

  “Wow,” he said, taking the candy from his mouth. “I’ve got to get one of those shafts for myself.”

  Clover looked back and forth at the solemn faces both Leven and the Want were wearing. Eegish waved a friendly wave.

  “Sorry,” Clover said. “Did I interrupt something? Because I can go back in the shaft if you need me to.”

  “There isn’t time,” the Want said, standing. “We must go.”

  The Want’s shadow stood up next to him.

  “Stay,” the Want said to his shadow.

  The shadow slipped back down into the chair.

  “I can’t stand having him clinging to me,” the Want said angrily. “He’s been nothing but trouble ever since he brought back that key. Now, you come. Follow.”

  Leven didn’t want to go anywhere. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, he would have preferred to curl up into a ball and fade away forever. Fortunately for all of mankind, that wasn’t an option.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Wet from the Inside Out

  Winter felt like someone had thrown her down and dumped a couple of loaded bookcases directly on her chest.

  She couldn’t breathe.

  Water filled her lungs and drowned any flicker of hope. Bound, she could do nothing but accept the death that seemed so imminent. The ship was slowly slipping deeper and deeper under the surface. It moved through the water like a ghost, all manner of underwater sea creatures swirling around in pockets of dance and rhythm.

  Winter would have been amazed by how gorgeous it was, except for that pesky fact that she was going to die.

  It was a true downer in a scene of unspeakable beauty.

  Winter watched her last breath escape her lips. The bubbles, like tracers, floated upward in a hypnotic pattern as her eyelids closed. In a flashback to when they had stepped into Foo, she could see Leven, standing by Amelia in Amelia’s home. She could see the wonder in his eyes as he viewed Foo for the first time. She could see Clover blink slowly
, and she could see the toothpick Geth.

  Winter’s body relaxed.

  Light touched the outside of her eyelid, and she felt her hair drifting like unspooled thread into and out of her face. She opened her mouth, and warmth filled her lungs. If this was death, she was much more comfortable than she had anticipated.

  She could feel her heart beating and her chest rising.

  Winter opened her eyes. Everything was light, with shimmering traces of silver around the edges. Fish looked like tinsel-covered lightbulbs popping through the water. The magic before her eyes distracted her momentarily from the reality that she was breathing beneath the water.

  Winter turned to get a glimpse of Geth. He was tied behind her, but when she cranked her neck as far as possible she could see the side of his face. There was a large yellow blob covering his entire face and half of his body. From what she could see, she could have sworn that Geth was smiling. Something had attached itself to their faces and was allowing them to breathe. Her fear drifted off like beads of oil. She could breathe, and not only that, but the water caused her to float just enough that the bindings and position she was tied in no longer hurt. Winter heard a muffled sound and turned to see Geth trying to talk to her.

  She couldn’t make out what he was saying, so she simply smiled as large schools of glowing fish darted around her. Winter laughed, caught up in the beauty of it. For a moment she seemed able to forget that her life was in peril and that the next moment might be her last.

  Winter saw light gray beasts with multiple tentacles pushing through the water like wet dishrags. They turned their mushy heads to look at the ship and then moved on. Rivers of red, molten-looking material oozed along the floor of the ocean, small fish and sea creatures lining the redness and touching it with their lips like deer at a mountain stream.

  Throughout the water Winter could see the bright lights of dreams pushing up into Foo. Most were not strong enough to make it up through the weight of the water, but a few shot past them and all the way to the surface. The dreams were filled with images that ran like wet paint, their presence adding to the overall surreal feeling.

  Winter’s green eyes fluttered as thousands of waterflies swarmed the open deck of the ship, lining the railing, their colorful wings twinkling like tiny lights.

  The view was so intoxicating that Winter lost track of time and distance and was surprised to feel the slight tug of the ship moving up. She wanted to make it stop, but she knew there was nothing she could do.

  The ship shivered and pushed upward again.

  The waterflies dispersed and all the fish and creatures moved away to allow the ship room to rise. Winter could feel the pull on her head as they climbed closer to the surface.

  The light became greater.

  The ship lurched and creaked, forcing itself up through the water.

  Winter could see the sky.

  The ship’s mast broke the surface of the water, and in a few moments Winter watched as her head rose above the sea and into a misty afternoon.

  She wanted to cry: not so much for the pain she would soon feel again, but because what she had just witnessed had been so beautiful. Leaving it was like stepping away from a garden you had spent years manicuring to stagger into a field of nothing.

  Water drained from the sides of the ship as it popped back up onto the surface. The film around Winter’s face and neck slid off like a wide patch of Jell-O, gliding across the deck and out through the holes in the railing.

  Winter breathed in deep. Her wrists and knees instantly began to hurt again. She shook her hair, hitting Geth on the side of his face.

  “Are you okay?” Geth asked.

  “I didn’t want to come up.”

  “I feel the same way,” Geth said. “I love traveling below the surface. It’s slower, but so much more interesting.”

  “How could we breathe?”

  “The Baadyn,” Geth answered. “They’re magnificent beings who live in spots near water. They have the ability to extract their souls and rinse them clean. They’re hinged at the waist, and when they get near water they can unhinge and let their souls slide out. Their souls swim through the water for a few hours while the shells of their bodies lie lifeless on the shore. Luckily for us, the clean souls hunger to do good. They could instantly sense that we couldn’t breathe and wanted to help. They just latched on, and we got the benefit of their lungs.”

  “They can wash their souls?” Winter asked in disbelief.

  “Thankfully,” Geth answered. “They get so mean and nasty when their souls are dirty.”

  In the distance Winter could see a huge land mass. It was covered with mountains and valleys, and a green layer of trees spread unevenly over its surface.

  “Lith,” Geth said.

  “I can’t tell how to feel,” Winter said. “Are we closer to or further from death?”

  “What does it matter?” Geth answered sincerely. “We are headed in the direction we must go. Don’t let fear ruin the moment.”

  From anyone else, such a statement would have made Winter angry. But Geth spoke with such passion and belief that it was hard not to be affected positively by it. They were sailing to their destruction and Geth was enjoying the ride.

  “I’m glad you’re with me,” Winter grinned.

  Winter now wanted Geth to tell her that everything would be all right—that they would win this fight, and that Foo and Leven would live forever. Instead, he stuck to his role as Geth and simply said, “Likewise.”

  The mist thinned and the ship sailed closer to the up side of Lith.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Beginning of an End

  Sycophant Run was dark. A metallic shimmer had settled over the entire place, giving even the trees the look of metal under the moonlight. From every direction the sound of conversation lifted softly through the trees and up into the cool air. The smell of warm food and cinnamon brew was as prevalent as the perfume of fantrum blossoms.

  Things were not so tranquil in the Chamber of Stars. Rast had called the group together to deliver the worrisome news.

  “You’re sure?” Mule asked. “Absolutely positive?”

  “Sadly, yes, it’s not there,” Rast said.

  “Maliciousness!” Goat exclaimed, the ceiling of stars twinkling brightly. “There is evil lurking.”

  “It was well hidden?” Brindle asked.

  “Very well hidden,” Rast answered slowly. “I know of no better place it could have been sealed. I know . . .”

  Rast stopped himself from saying more.

  “You know something,” Reed said. “You suspect someone.”

  “As always, you are more perceptive than the rest,” Rast complimented. “I fear that the key could have been taken by only one person.”

  “Who?” Brindle insisted.

  “It has been locked up for years,” Rast said. “I have purposely not visited it for fear of someone following. There is only one person I can think of who might have known where it was. And if she did, she might very well have followed me years ago to discover the code.”

  “She?” Reed asked skeptically.

  “Lilly,” Rast said.

  The sycophants gasped.

  “Your daughter?” Mule asked.

  “She was hurting greatly last time we saw her,” Rast said with embarrassment. “Her burn had left her, and she wanted badly to get her back. She was determined to do anything.”

  “Her burn?” Goat said. “If I remember right, she was the girl sent to bring Leven here.”

  Rast nodded. “Winter.”

  “Where’s Lilly now?” Brindle asked.

  “We don’t know,” Rast said sadly. “She still to this day causes us heartache. It has been more years than we can count since we’ve seen her.”

  “What reason would she have for taking the key?” Reed asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rast said. “All I know is she was terribly angry and looking for any way to get her burn back. It was as if she had
been poisoned. She saw nothing but hatred. All beauty was gone from her spirit and eyes.”

  “The Lore Coils speak of Leven releasing the secret,” Mule said nervously. “How would he have come by the key if Lilly had it?”

  “Seems obvious,” Goat said angrily. “It’s what I have always said, there’s evil tracking us. They send this girl to retrieve Leven and give him the key to destroy us all. We’re not in favor with the Want. They seek to mesh the worlds, and they know that only the sycophants can fight off such a foolish act. Our home is what they will come for, and our peace is not a concern or care of anyone.”

  “Calm yourself, Goat,” Rast said, holding up his small palms. “The secret was loose, but it has not spread itself. We know nothing of their plans to ruin us. We must move quickly but with wisdom.”

  “We know enough to signal our breed to be ready,” Mule insisted. “I say it’s time to alert our families. Trouble walks toward us and we must be prepared to lunge. I will not have darkness molest those I love.”

  “I agree,” Brindle said.

  “Me too,” Goat insisted. “We must protect Sycophant Run.”

  “Sycophant Run?” Rast said with disgust. “It’s evil to say this is about just us. You speak as if you don’t know your own history. This is about Foo. This is about the dreams of those we will never know and the honor of making Reality better than it is. It’s about the fulfillment of our creation. We are not tharms looking for something to stare at. We are sycophants with a great duty to hold upon our shoulders. The second we make this about us alone, we will face failure.”

  Reed, Brindle, and Goat looked down.

  “That’s all well and fine,” Mule said softly. “But so often we are the last ones thought about. I won’t see my breed die at the expense of everyone else’s selfishness and lust to have more than they can control.”