by Obert Skye
Ezra slipped back under Dennis’s collar while Dennis gave the deck a second sweep. The calm sea was in stark contrast to Dennis’s state of mind.
He finished sweeping and stood at the bow of the boat as it worked up speed. Wind ran over his aerodynamic head and blew his wrinkle-proof pants. Dennis put his arms to his waist. He felt as if he were heading to war and he was the only person who knew the plans.
“Are you thinking again?” Ezra asked with disgust.
Dennis nodded, realizing that he rather enjoyed the feeling.
ii
Addy came home from work in one of her moods. She had two of them—moods, that is—mean, and stinking mean. She slammed her car door getting out. She slammed the mailbox after checking for mail. She slammed the screen door and then the door behind it. She stomped across the floor like a spoiled mountain. She reached into a kitchen cabinet and pulled out a glass. She then slammed the cabinet. She retrieved a piece of stale cake from the fridge and slammed that door too. She slammed her fingers in the drawer after finding a fork.
She then moved from mean to stinking mean.
She could see Terry from the corner of her eye. He was watching TV with the volume up too loud as usual. She was also still upset over the fight they had had that morning over him stealing her dental floss.
“Sit here all day?” she asked cruelly, not expecting to get an answer. “The world’s falling apart, and you wouldn’t know it. I watched the Washington Monument get up and walk on CNN today. Sitting there folding napkins and watching the world fall apart. And here you are doing nothing.”
Terry’s recliner-rocker swiveled around. Terry was sitting there wearing the robe he had found—which, unbeknownst to him, had belonged to Antsel—and looking as smug as a toad who had just successfully swallowed a whole eagle.
Cake fell from Addy’s mouth.
“Where’d you get that?” she said, spraying small crumbs into the air.
“Found it,” Terry said, brushing the right arm. “Looks like my metal detector is paying off.”
“That ain’t metal,” Addy pointed out.
“Still,” Terry said, standing. “I wouldn’t have found this without it.”
Addy set down her plate and walked slowly around Terry. The robe he had on was threadbare in a few spots, but still remarkably regal looking. It didn’t appear to be something purchased from a discount store. It looked black, with a pattern of rectangles running along the hems, but as Addy circled around a second time she could see that the robe was actually a very dark purple.
Addy couldn’t believe how handsome it made Terry. His unshaven face looked rugged, while his dirty hands testified of a man who knew how to work. The roguish way he slurred his words almost made her smothered heart flutter. And if Addy wasn’t mistaken, it appeared that Terry was hovering a couple of inches above the floor.
“I bet this cost over fifty bucks when it was new,” Terry bragged.
“Fifty?” Addy said. “I’ve seen dresses like that for almost three hundred.”
Terry lowered himself and then sat back down as if light-headed.
“That metal detector paid for itself and then some,” he whispered reverently. “I’ll tell you something else. I think this thing can do things.”
“Do things?” Addy said with a smirk.
“I put it on and the dirt around me began to bubble.”
“There’s something about this Oklahoma soil,” Addy said in awe. “Frozen houses, bubbling dirt.”
Terry’s show came back on—he swiveled around toward the TV and away from Addy.
“Is that the last piece of cake?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yes,” Addy replied, still thinking about how Terry looked. She stepped over and handed him the portion she hadn’t eaten yet, brushing the bite that had fallen from her mouth off of the plate and onto the floor.
Terry looked at her leaning into him and flinched as if he were being handed a bomb.
“Here,” Addy said. “Take it.”
Terry was in awe. His red eyes burned, and he scratched his nose.
“Paid for itself and then some,” he said, shoving a bite into his mouth. “Paid for itself and then some.”
Addy couldn’t have agreed more.
iii
Janet was so disappointed. She felt as if she had changed greatly in the short time she had been in Foo. But when she looked at her reflection in the moonlit water, she appeared every bit as sour and stubborn as she had once been.
“I don’t feel like I look,” Janet said to Osck.
Osck stared at her, even more taken with the way she reflected off his fiery being. He had become obsessed with her—so much so that he looked for every chance he could to stand by her.
“You look beautiful,” Osck said. “I’ve never seen a sunset that looks anything like you.”
“Thank goodness,” Janet said.
“I don’t understand,” Osck said honestly.
Osck’s hair was high and orange. It moved like a slow flame as a light wind blew through. His neck reflected the others around him while his body and legs reflected the image of Janet. His hornlike ears flinched and twitched as he talked.
Osck stood and walked into the trees.
Janet stayed sitting. She and the rest of her group of echoes were gathered around a small fire on the up shore of the Green Pond. There were stars in the sky outlining the moons and reflecting in the water. In the distance Janet could see lightning over Morfit as it was being picked on by a small storm. She had no idea the thunder was calling her names, thinking instead that it was just her conscience finally speaking up.
“Selfish.”
“I know,” she thought.
“Ugly.”
Janet began to cry.
“Nasty and unfashionable.”
Her conscience was getting specific.
“Coward.”
“Not anymore,” Janet said aloud.
The sound of churning dirt and rattling bones pulled Janet from her thoughts. She looked up to see a black skeleton sitting high upon an avaland. The giant beast stopped at the edge of the firelight. The skeleton on top was silhouetted by the second moon. One of the echoes near the fire questioned him.
“Where are you coming from?”
“The Sentinel Fields,” the skeleton said, its sinewy joints shining under the moon’s reflection. “There’s word that the gloam grows rapidly. It has stolen the soil of Lith. The Sochemists have sent locusts, and the very act has created Lore Coils that confirm it. I am to gather the rest of our kind.”
“What of the Want?” another echo asked.
“It is unknown,” the skeleton said. “But a lithen will lead us into battle.”
“A lithen?” the echo said. “Lead us where?”
“We are to attack Sycophant Run,” the skeleton said. “Our escape is there. The gloam will have reached the stones, and the soil will begin to possess the gifts it needs to control Reality.”
The echoes all cheered.
“It’s happening,” a short echo with thick legs said happily.
“March quickly,” the skeleton said, “or you may well miss the whole thing.”
All the echoes began to chatter and reflect off of one another as the skeleton motioned the avaland to continue moving. The excitement was so palpable that the small fire began to sing songs of battle and triumph. Osck stepped back out of the trees holding a fistful of plum blossoms. Even in the poorly lit conditions Janet could see they were for her. He stared at the exiting avaland and then back at Janet.
“Thanks,” she said, unable to actually take them from him.
“Ingrate,” the distant thunder whispered.
Once again Janet mistook it for her conscience.
“You’re very kind,” Janet strained to say to Osck. “But I can’t actually hold them.”
She was surprised how much she liked the way the words sounded as they left her mouth. She was even more surprised to see both Osck’s ch
eeks burst into flame as he executed a smile of sparks.
Chapter Forty-One
Tree Dive
The fall was spectacular—it made the drop they had taken inside the cavern feel like the jolt one receives stepping off a single last step. The distance down had actually been long enough for Winter to scream, catch her breath, and then scream a second time.
They hit the water sideways, rolling down under twenty feet before the momentum was limp enough to allow them to frantically paddle back up to the surface.
Geth gasped for air, feeling born again. He had left their situation to fate and they had succeeded in spectacular fashion. He looked around and dragged a sputtering Winter up over the surface. The drop had loosened the loop around her. He pulled it over her head as rocks and dirt splashed down like hail.
“Thanks,” Winter coughed.
She bent backwards and slid the rest of the rope down. Andrus popped to the top, floating belly up. Sait had come to during the fall and was happy to discover that he was still alive.
“We made it?” he asked incredulously.
A huge, creaking tree smacked down twenty feet from them. Its branches writhed and thrashed until it was still.
“Where’s Clover?” Geth asked.
“Clover!” Sait yelled.
“He said he was going for Leven,” Winter said.
“Good,” Geth replied.
The moons were all lit to full capacity, every one of them curious to see what was going on down below. The Veil Sea was filled with dead trees and bushes that had taken the plunge in an effort to live. Currents of water pulled in odd and awkward strands as Lith continued to go under. One of the smaller moons was bold enough to dip down level with Lith, backlighting the island perfectly.
Geth watched in awe as the island lowered, its massive body dropping like a sand castle. The fall had pushed them out quite a distance from the land mass, and the sound of its demise was almost deafening.
Trees and bushes and grass showered the water.
“We’ve got to swim away,” Geth said. “Lith will drag us all under if we stay this close.”
A huge stone dropped right next to them.
“Or we’ll be smashed,” Sait said.
“Drag Andrus as far as you can toward the other stones,” Geth shouted.
“What about you?” Winter yelled.
“I’m going for Leven,” Geth said. “It may not be too late.”
Winter looked up. The top of Lith was still a long way up, but it was lowering rapidly.
“You’ll be killed,” Winter said. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” Geth insisted. “Get them to the other stones. I’ll make it, I promise.”
“I can’t imagine how,” Winter yelled, looking up at the still-towering Lith.
“Well, Foo will fix that.”
“I don’t think I can swim much longer,” Winter reasoned, hoping Geth would stay.
“Find a tree,” Geth said.
Winter was already reaching out to the large one that had fallen nearby. She wanted Geth to stay, but she knew he needed to go for Leven’s sake.
“Go,” she said. “We’ll be fine.”
“Of course you will.”
Geth turned and swam toward the sinking island as Winter and Sait dragged Andrus in the opposite direction.
Chapter Forty-Two
The Realization
Leven felt his heart sink like the very ground around him was doing. He had carried his grandfather out into the open and laid him down on a bed of dirt and wind. He had then draped his grandfather’s arms over his chest and pulled the hood down over his empty eyes.
Leven gathered rocks like a sad child looking for Easter eggs. He piled the rocks up over his grandfather, creating a stony grave.
Leven stood tall and gazed around in wonder. His eyes were gold and, unlike before, the light from them shot into the far distance. Leven felt like a lighthouse sweeping the ruins of his stormy life for any sign of hope. He blinked and watched patches of light flash out from his eyes and float off.
Leven pulled the hood of his robe up over his head and slipped the sword into the leather band across his back.
Lith was falling fast, and each minute brought a different view of the stars above. The trees had long ago fled, realizing that there was no safety anywhere on Lith. Every blade of grass and weed that had ever grown on the soil was also long gone. All of it had rolled or hopped or dragged itself into the sea to face a watery death.
Likewise, every nit that had been there gorging on dreams had left. Some had flown off on the backs of rovens; others had rushed to the sea, hoping the ships they had come in were still intact.
Lith had sunk so low that only the high, wide roundlands still protruded above the water. In a matter of minutes, however, even those would be sunk.
Nothing was left on the roundlands but the remains of the castle and some burning fires. A few rovens had stayed around to feed on anything the toppling castle had killed. They ate nervously as the soil crumbled. One by one they realized the danger and flew off.
Leven had never felt so alone.
He looked up at the sky and wondered why he of all the people in the universe was standing there. He missed Winter and Geth. He hoped that wherever they were, they were safe. He missed Amelia, and wished he could have known his grandfather under circumstances that didn’t involve betrayal and selfishness. Leven missed the mother he had never known, and he missed Clover. He felt a restlessness in his limbs that made him shake out his arms.
The ground dropped twenty feet rapidly. Leven swayed and balanced himself.
“I was about to comment on your sea legs,” Clover said. “But then I remembered we were on land.”
Leven smiled, and his eyes burned even brighter and farther.
“Wow,” Clover said. “Someone’s lit up.”
“I don’t know what I would do without you,” Leven said as Clover materialized, hanging on his left arm.
“Why are you staring at a pile of rocks?” Clover asked.
“It’s a grave,” Leven said. “My grandfather’s.”
“That’s where Hector Thumps was buried?” Clover said in amazement. “It’s held up well. I’m surprised nobody’s knocked it over, or the rocks haven’t walked off years ago.”
“I just buried him,” Leven said. “He was the Want.”
“Your . . . he . . . ?” Clover questioned in amazement. “That was your grandfather?”
Leven nodded, his robe billowing in the wind.
“So, the Want’s dead.”
“No,” Leven answered honestly.
“But you just said—”
“It’s a long story.”
Lith dropped twenty more feet. Every last roven flew off as a new small fire leapt to life in the distance.
“I wish I knew where Geth and Winter were,” Leven sighed.
“Don’t worry about them,” Clover said. “They’re fine.”
“You’ve seen them?”
“I just left them. I think they were swimming,” Clover waved, as if they were off vacationing at some resort. “I’ll be honest, Winter looked tired, but they seemed okay.”
Leven stared at the rocks as Lith began to spin in a downward motion. Leven watched the stars slowly turn.
“The Want betrayed us all,” Leven said somberly.
“People are hard to peg,” Clover said, thinking of other things. “What do you suppose we’ll do when there’s no longer any land to stand on here? I mean, I’m a good swimmer, but if I remember correctly, you sort of struggled with water in Reality.”
Lith dropped and spun faster.
“Don’t worry about it,” Leven said. “I have my Waves.”
“Your Waves,” Clover said in awe. “You mean . . . ?”
Leven looked at him and let the light of his eyes explain everything.
“Of course,” Clover whispered. “My offing, the Want. Does this mean you’ll be going mad and your eyes will
go all googly?”
“I hope not,” Leven said. “It means that, no matter how I feel, the battle to save Foo is unavoidable for me.”
“It’s always been that way,” Geth said, stepping up from the side and causing both Leven and Clover to jump.
Leven settled down and turned to face his friend. Geth offered Leven his hand.
“You’re okay?” Leven said with happiness.
“Of course,” Geth replied.
“Where’s Winter?”
“Floating toward the stones on the back of some dead trees,” Geth said. “She was moving in the direction of the fourth stone with a couple of nits. The grave?”
Leven looked at the rocks. “The Want’s dead,” he said.
“That’s impossible,” Geth replied, his green eyes showing shock under the moonlight.
Both Leven and Clover gasped.
“Impossible?” Leven questioned.
“There’s no way for the . . . well, there’s only . . . he would have to have been . . .”
“My grandfather?”
Geth looked silently at Leven and then back to the grave.
“I’m the Want,” Leven answered almost sheepishly.
“Fantastic,” Geth whispered quietly.
“He thought you might have already known,” Leven said.
“I’ve suspected but never known,” Geth answered. “How fortunate for Foo that you are here.”
“Fortunate?” Leven replied. “He freely sold me out.”
Geth remained silent as Lith spun and dropped ten more feet.
Leven’s eyes burned, sending bright rays of light out over the landscape. There was little of Lith still standing above the water. “I suppose we should find Winter and begin this war,” Leven said.
“There’s still much amazement to save,” Geth added with respect. “Azure will be counting on the Want’s death and the soil’s new gifts that Lith is providing. But, with luck, you will cultivate the power to stop him.”
Leven nodded, “I hope so.”
“We can be only what we give ourselves the power to be,” Geth said, sounding like a wise toothpick.
The ground twisted and dropped. Large pieces of Lith broke from the edges and crumbled into the vacuumlike sea. A tremendous snap rang out across the entire sky. The noise was coming from across the Veil Sea. Leven and Clover put their hands to their ears as Geth crouched, looking into the distance.