by Obert Skye
“Avalands!” Clover yelled.
The avaland beneath Leven was huge. Its back was covered with tavel stalks and its body was stony. The avaland rose above the ground running, its huge dirt legs thundering across the field.
Leven could feel the avaland’s simple thoughts. He knelt down on the back of the charging beast and grabbed onto two of the stalks of growing tavel.
“Faster,” Leven commanded.
The avaland moved even quicker. A kilve shot past Leven and pierced the avaland’s back. The avaland bucked and thundered faster, leaving the rants chasing after them and buried in dust.
“Which way is Cusp?” Leven yelled.
“Head towards the smallest moon,” Clover answered.
Leven shifted his grip and the avaland turned slightly, heading directly towards the smallest moon in the sky.
“How can you control this thing?” Clover shouted.
“I don’t know,” Leven shouted back. “I can feel what it’s thinking.”
“You’re like a black skeleton,” Clover said. “Cool. Captain Black.”
“It’s Leven,” Leven smiled.
“Dirt Jockey?” Clover tried.
“Leven.”
“All right,” Clover said. “I’ll keep trying.”
The avaland’s huge feet pounded the ground, streaking across the field. Leven felt free and powerful, a sensation he had not had much experience with. The evil of the Dearth was fresh in his mind, but he had seen through the evil and now knew that victory for Foo was just as close as the possible defeat.
The avaland brought Leven and Clover all the way to the edge of Cusp. From there they rode the ropes back to the safe house. Owen was more than a little surprised to have them knocking on his door so late.
“But I thought you were sleeping,” Owen said.
“Apparently I sleepwalk,” Leven explained.
“Would you like a room with no window?” Owen asked.
“No,” Leven answered. “I don’t think it will happen again.”
Owen led Leven and Clover back to the room. They had to take three different flights of stairs and cross through more than two dozen rooms.
“I don’t know how you ever find your way around,” Leven said.
“It takes some time to learn,” Owen smiled.
Once Leven reached his room he woke up Geth and sat on the edge of his bed to fill him in. Geth’s blond hair was a tangled mess, and his speech was tired, but his eyes still looked excited.
“He let you get away?” Geth said, surprised.
“I think he was confused by me being the Want,” Leven explained, drinking a glass of warm milk that Owen had set out.
“He’ll seek you even more now.”
“I could see right through him at one point,” Leven said. “It was as if his whole inside was known to me.”
“How far was he?”
“Pretty far,” Leven said. “We traveled a long distance on the avaland.”
“And Azure?”
“I didn’t see him at all,” Leven answered. “But I have no memory of traveling there. He could have met me and led me into the tent for all I know.”
“He’s supposed to be at the Meadows tomorrow,” Geth said. “Let’s hope he’s still there.”
“I don’t like the Dearth, Geth,” Leven said solemnly. “It’s even worse than Sabine or Azure. He looks like the kind of thing you’d find in a haunted cellar. I’d love to not have to meet up with him again.”
“I wish that were possible,” Geth said.
“Me too,” Clover said, materializing. “He was really unattractive.”
“Well, you should sleep now,” Geth said.
“I’d love to,” Leven said tiredly.
“I’ll lock the window,” Clover volunteered.
“We’ll head to the Meadows as soon as we awake,” Geth said. “Tomorrow could be a big day for Foo.”
Geth said a few other things, but Leven only heard a couple of them. The warm milk began to take effect and he quickly fell fast asleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
Shatterball
The rope ride to the Meadows, where the shatterball tournament was taking place, was quick and crowded. Leven could feel hundreds of other passengers weaving through him as he spun along. He was ejected at the back side of the Meadows near a row of quaint brownstones. Winter shot out right after Leven, and seconds later Geth was standing there patting himself down to see if all of him had made it.
“So many people traveling,” Geth said. “I was certain I’d come out with extra pieces.”
Clover held up a string. “Do you think this is something important?”
“Let’s hope it’s just string,” Leven said.
People were popping out of the rope at a rapid rate. The four of them moved out of the way and across the wide cobblestone street. They walked between two tall brownstones and out to the Meadows.
“Wow,” Winter said in awe.
On the other side of a wide dirt road stood a lush green field larger than most cities. The field was covered with hundreds of thousands of people and small booths selling food and assorted shatterball paraphernalia. There were trees and shrubs and numerous stone walls that sectioned off smaller areas within the Meadows. In the sky hundreds of hot-air balloons drifted and in the center of the Meadows four monstrous trees towered above everything. The four trees were spaced out like the corners of a large square and each was at least two hundred feet high.
“Keep your heads low,” Geth warned. “Walk on stone. The longer we stay unnoticed the better. Avoid all rants. Azure wants that key, but if things turn bad he might decide it’s best to just kill us on the spot.”
“Nice,” Leven smiled.
“What if he disappears again?” Winter asked. “We should probably split up so we can spot him from more places.”
“Okay,” Geth said. “Winter and I will approach him from behind; Leven, you move at him from the other side. I know your gift’s not working, but if it kicks in we could use the help.”
“Let’s hope it does,” Leven said.
Winter and Geth stood up and, walking on a short stone wall, moved towards a large rock archway that spanned the entrance to the Meadows. The archway was covered with beautiful small flowers that opened and closed like blinking Christmas lights.
Leven followed them at a safe distance. He saw them reach the archway. A sign above the gate read:
Use of all gifts prohibited on the Meadows unless instructed.
A large cog with a wrinkled orange forehead held out his blue palm to stop Geth and Winter as they tried to enter.
“Waiver?” he questioned.
“We have none,” Geth replied. “But we have this.”
Geth pulled out a small sack of money and handed it to the cog.
“I figure it’s enough to take care of us and the nit coming in behind us,” Geth said kindly.
The cog looked back in Leven’s direction. He hefted the money and surveyed the scene for anyone watching him.
“What do I care?” the cog finally said. “Put your kilves in the bins and move in.”
Geth and Winter retrieved their kilves from behind their backs and placed them into one of the wooden barrels next to the archway. They slipped through the stone gate and into the crowd. A few moments later Leven moved to the archway. He put his kilve in one of the barrels and waved at the cog. He was motioned through without a single word exchanged.
“Tight security,” Clover whispered.
Leven pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head and moved to the edge of the massive crowd.
The Meadows were like heaven, but with noise and bugs. The venue and the location were as perfect as any outdoor creation could be. The hundreds of hot-air balloons were hovering at different levels, their flames sounding out as they moved sideways across the sky. Above the balloons was a fat layer of gray hazen. The clouds rumbled and shook as small lines of light sizzled through them. The ground was
covered with hordes of carts selling almost anything you could imagine and thousands of couples walking hand in hand or professing their love.
“Head to the tall trees,” Clover whispered in Leven’s ear.
Leven pushed through the lovesick crowd. His eyes were focused straight ahead, searching for any sign of Azure. The trees got closer and larger. Leven walked through a second gate sectioning off some stone bleachers. He looked up and stopped.
“What’s that?” Leven asked in awe.
“That’s the arena.”
Hanging in the center of the trees, filling most of the space between them, was a gigantic glass sphere. It looked as large as a small moon and glowed slightly purple. The glass sphere was suspended by four huge branches, one from each of the four trees. The branches wrapped around the bottom of the sphere and kept the entire glass structure floating almost twenty feet off of the ground. The field beneath the hanging sphere was barren aside from a few hundred pieces of litter that spectators had thrown down from the seating. The rest of the four trees’ branches were filled with assorted spectators waiting to watch the match.
“Impressive,” Leven said, momentarily forgetting that he was there for anything besides gawking. “It’s huge.”
“Over six stories high and wide,” Clover said. “It’s made out of gunt. They heat it and stretch it to form. It takes months and many craftsmen to create each one. They’re a work of art.”
“Can they break?”
“If the game’s a good one.”
The glass sphere appeared to be completely sealed except for one large hole in the bottom and a tiny one up top. Inside the glass eight robed nits stood around the hole. Four of the nits were in blue robes and four were in orange. The whole thing looked like a giant glass planet with people standing in it.
“What do they do?” Leven asked. “The people inside?”
“The blues are called Pidgins and the orange players are called Pawns. The Pidgins are from Morfit. The Pawns are from Cusp,” Clover whispered. “You’ll see them move when it starts up.”
“Is one color better than the other?”
“Always go with orange,” Clover lectured. “Blue obviously has something to hide.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know,” Clover admitted. “But if it were true it’d be interesting. I’m just never going to root for Morfit. Not after being there. Besides, that Johnny Chapman is so smug and he’s their team captain.”
“And you don’t like him?”
“I just think that long hair and a bad attitude don’t necessarily make you cool.”
Leven patted Clover on the head.
A large musical band made up of nits and cogs sat around the bases of two of the humongous trees. The band members were holding a wide assortment of unusual wooden instruments and drums. A whistle blew and the band began to play. The pounding of the drums was so loud that the glass sphere above began to vibrate.
The music was intoxicating and made Leven miss Winter.
Leven could see a section of tent-covered seats over at the far end of the littered field. Sitting in the middle seat was a tall man in a blue robe. Leven was too far away to see him clearly, but he knew it was Azure. Leven watched Azure whisper to someone short who was next to him.
“Do you see Geth and Winter?” Leven asked Clover.
Another loud whistle sounded and the men inside the glass steadied themselves. Everyone looked up.
“Here it comes,” Clover said, not answering Leven’s question.
The crowd began to chant and scream, drowning out the music. Some threw small white balls at the glass court. The tiny hollow balls bounced off, falling to the littered field beneath.
“We should get closer to Azure,” Leven said.
“Wait,” Clover insisted. “It’s starting.”
Three men in white robes walked into the center of the littered field below.
The crowd cheered.
“Those are the officials,” Clover said. “They’re also nits with the gift of flight.”
One of the officials blew a whistle and all three flew up from the ground. One flew to the top of the glass sphere. The other two flew slowly around, circling the huge ball, their eyes focused on the players inside.
The official on top pulled a black ball the size of an orange out of his robe. Leven could barely see it from where he stood.
“That’s the pit,” Clover explained.
The official held the pit above the small hole at the very top of the sphere. The hole was just a few inches wider than the ball. The crowd began to count down from ten. The Pidgins and Pawns inside slowly began to fly around in circles.
The official dropped the black pit and it fell through the small hole down into the sphere. It bounced with a piercing twang against the bottom near the large hole. The pit ricocheted wildly inside of the glass court. The players flew around, knocking into one another and maneuvering for the pit. They were incredibly fluid and zipped around each other in mesmerizing and skilled motions.
Leven couldn’t take his eyes off of them.
“I wish I could fly,” Leven said.
“Me too,” Clover replied. “I’m tired of you just walking.”
“So what are they trying to do?” Leven asked.
“They grab the pit and push it back up into the top hole while trying to shove their opponents down through the bottom hole. They can’t touch the glass unless they are shoved into it. If they touch it themselves the other team gets a point.”
“How does it end?”
“When the sphere is shattered or there’s only one player left inside. If the sphere breaks when a team slams an opponent against it, that team wins. It can get pretty intense. Sometimes the spheres are so strong the game lasts for hours. No one is allowed out unless they are thrown out or they’re the last player.”
Leven watched a Pidgin slam a Pawn and send him hurling across the court. The orange Pawn hit the wall and slid down the side. He fell limply through the hole and out of the sphere, flailing wildly as he dropped the twenty feet down to the littered field below.
“When they fall out they’re not allowed to fly to stop their fall.”
“Brutal,” Leven said.
“Yeah, I usually watch that part with my hands over my eyes. Sometimes they break arms and legs as they hit the ground.”
The crowd threw white balls at the poor player who had just dropped out.
Inside the sphere a Pawn flew into a Pidgin and pushed him violently into the glass.
The spectators cheered riotously.
“Everyone’s pretty pumped up,” Clover noted.
Two blue Pidgins spun up around a Pawn. The orange Pawn grabbed the black pit as it bounced off the wall. He shot up and shoved it through the small hole in the top. The small pit hovered above the sphere until the official grabbed it and inspected it.
The official looked at the pit and then raised a finger on his right hand.
The crowd roared.
The official dropped the black pit back down into the court and blew his whistle.
Leven watched the pit bounce around. One player grabbed it and his opponent hit up against him, smacking it out of his hands. A Pawn then threw a Pidgin into the wall and the Pidgin slid down and dropped out of the hole. The movement was jarring and felt spliced together.
“Did you see that?” Leven asked.
“See what?”
“There was . . . something happened.”
“Yeah, the Pawns are winning,” Clover said. “Did you see how dumb that guy looked falling out?”
“No,” Leven said. “Something happened.”
“That’s what keeps people’s attention,” Clover said slowly. “It’s called a game.”
Another Pidgin flew into a Pawn and grabbed him by one arm and one leg. He spun him around and threw him against the glass, where he hit headfirst and slid down out of the hole. He fell to the ground with a great thud, grass and litter exploding as he la
nded.
“There it was again,” Leven said. “Did you see that?”
“I told you I put my hands over my eyes when people fall.”
Leven looked in Azure’s direction. Azure sat calmly watching the game.
“I think we need to find Geth,” Leven said urgently. “Something’s happening.”
The Pawns scored and the crowd was whipped up into a messy frenzy. Spectators threw hundreds of little white balls up against the glass court. The clicking of the balls combined with the screaming was deafening.
Leven moved along the back of the stone bleachers and pushed through the crowd looking for Geth and Winter.
“What’s wrong with you?” Clover asked.
“I think I’m going mad,” Leven said.
“I had an uncle who did that,” Clover said. “Now he makes rugs.”
“Great.”
The Pawns scored again as they sent another Pidgin down the hole and onto the littered field. Leven felt it again.
“Can’t you feel that?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Clover said. “Does the game make you nervous? I mean, it’s a contest, there has to be a winner and loser.”
“Find Geth,” Leven said. “Find him and get me to him.”
Leven’s forehead was wet with perspiration. He stopped and watched the glass sphere. A large Pidgin thrust the smallest Pawn into the wall. The entire glass ball swayed. Leven could see the beginning of a crack where the hit had occurred. It slowly began to lengthen. The crack paused and then continued sideways, sounding like dry bones shattering.
Leven closed his eyes. There was nothing but darkness. He pulled the hood of his cloak tighter over his head and breathed deeply.
Nothing but darkness.
He threw his hood back down and sucked in some air. The chanting of the crowd felt like a fist repeatedly pounding Leven’s chest. The spectators’ emotions were out of control.
Leven opened his eyes and the entire scene went quiet. He could see everyone still shouting, but he couldn’t hear any of them. He blinked and the noise was back.
A hand grabbed Leven on the neck and spun him around. Leven threw his hands up as if to push back.
“Lev,” Winter said, “what’s wrong with you? You’re sweating like mad.”