by Obert Skye
“I don’t believe it,” Geth said.
“Yes, you do,” the Dearth countered. “The longing’s release has made our armies passionate and Cusp has been taken even more quickly than I had anticipated. The soil that once belonged to Lith is now connecting to Sycophant Run, and the troops have already begun to march towards the opening that your missing piece has pointed out so clearly. I thought I would have to wriggle around in the soil of Sycophant Run for a while before finding the opening, but thanks to you that isn’t necessary.”
“Where’s Clover?” Leven asked again.
“My goodness,” the Dearth said. “Like a broken record. I should ask you some questions. Like, where’s the key? But you’ve already exposed yourself and we now know the key rests in the remains of Lith. We’ll find it. But it’s a pity, really, it was the only reason we were keeping you alive. You mean nothing to me now.”
Footsteps sounded. Azure was back.
“It’s time,” Azure said respectfully.
The Dearth sighed. “So soon?”
“The soil has settled and the message has been sent,” Azure said.
“Don’t do this, Azure,” Geth said calmly. “You’ll be destroyed just like everyone else.”
“Oh yes,” the Dearth said. “The lithen party line: ‘all hope will die and so will any living being.’ Rubbish. Azure knows that when the dust settles he will stand by my side with unlimited power.”
“Then he’s a dolt,” Geth said. “Mankind cannot survive without hopes and dreams. It is our responsibility as lithens to protect that.”
“It’s not true,” Azure said. “We were brought up on lies, Geth.”
The Dearth gave the three prisoners the once-over.
“Well, I’ve enjoyed our conversation,” he said. “Azure, you may kill Leven and Winter when you please—the last thing we need is for a new Want to mess things up. So extinguish him while he’s still vulnerable. But keep Geth alive, will you? I’m not certain what would happen to his missing part if he were to die now.”
The Dearth tipped his cap to them.
“Cheerio.”
He then walked out, dragging his soiled feet with him.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Azure smirked, following the Dearth from the cavern and into the dark.
“This is bad,” Leven said.
Geth stood silent and still.
“Geth,” Winter said, touching his arm.
Geth didn’t move. His eyes, however, bounced back and forth as if he were a machine trying to process some stubborn information.
“Are you okay?” Leven asked.
Geth’s blue eyes looked like they had been pulled out, stomped on, and then shoved back in.
“I used to believe that the whole of Foo would gladly stand up and defend our home to the very last dream,” Geth whispered. “Now it seems as if everyone is willing to walk into Reality and let it all slip away.”
“I’m not,” Leven insisted.
“Me neither,” Winter said.
Geth smiled faintly. “That makes three of us against the world.”
“I like the odds,” Leven said.
Geth looked at Leven intently. “You’re so much more than you once were. Where’s that boy I used to have to pull along?”
“I don’t know,” Leven replied. “He’s probably somewhere in the past with that toothpick I used to have to drag around.”
Geth breathed in deeply. Color pushed back into his cheeks as if nature was redrawing him. He looked twenty percent more lithen than he had just moments before.
“It’s going to feel great to win this thing,” Geth said seriously.
“You’re telling me,” Winter beamed.
“And listen,” Leven added. “For the record, I’m not going to stop believing that Clover’s still alive and okay.”
“We’ll find him,” Geth declared.
“Then we’ve got to get out of this cage,” Winter noted.
“Can you do anything yet as the Want?” Geth asked Leven. “Anything?”
“No,” Leven answered.
“Then our only chance is to overpower them when they come to kill you two.”
“Real nice,” Winter said.
“I can’t see another way out,” Geth said, pulling on the door again.
“Maybe this will help,” a low voice said from the shadows on the side of the cavern.
Everyone was silent.
“Who said that?” Leven asked.
A thin man in a blue robe holding a heavy rusted sword stepped carefully into the light. Next to him was the same whisp Clover had once lost track of up near the turrets.
Winter rubbed her eyes and choked on her own breath.
“Janet?” Leven said in disbelief.
“You know her?” Winter said in shock.
Janet was already running towards Winter. Janet slipped through the bars and tried desperately to hug Winter—she was crying and wailing and a complete mess. Leven thought she was attacking Winter and tried to shoo her away.
Winter struggled to dry heave her vocal cords back into operation. Tim stepped up to the cage and lifted his sword. Leven and Geth backed away and Tim slammed the sword down against the lock, shattering both the weapon and the latch. Tim shook his arms, pain from the hit causing him to quiver.
“Who are you?” Geth asked.
“We’re here for Winter,” Tim answered. “Come on.”
Tim pulled open the door and Leven and Geth ran out. Winter, however, was still standing there in disbelief. It’s one thing to run into your banker at the bank—they look so normal there and in their proper place. But it is something altogether different to run into your banker at, say, a convention for the preservation of collectable thimbles. And it is something entirely different to run into your neighbor and your nasty guardian in the dark caves of a hidden realm right before you are about to be killed.
Winter’s brain tried to digest what she was seeing but she couldn’t get her voice to work or her legs to move. Tim ran into the cage and, with Swig’s and Leven’s help, pulled Winter out. Tim hugged her and looked into her startled eyes.
“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Are you okay? You’re older.”
Winter still wasn’t able to speak, and poor Janet couldn’t touch or hold Winter because of her whispy condition. All Janet could do was hover around weeping with joy and regret and talking about how grown-up Winter looked.
“You’re here for Winter?” Geth asked happily.
“All the way from Reality,” Tim nodded. “But we’ll gladly help out anyone she’s locked up with.”
“Brilliant,” Geth said. “Let’s stick to the shadows, and step only on the stone.”
They all edged to the far side of the cavern and ran through the shadows. Outside the cavern, the tunnels were bigger and wound in all directions, including up and down.
“Over there,” Tim pointed.
They darted down a dark tunnel and into an alcove stacked with clay jugs. They ducked down behind the containers.
Winter gasped as if breath had finally been breathed into her. Tim put his arm around her.
“How?” Winter asked in amazement. “How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Tim laughed.
“And your children,” Winter asked. “Darcy and Rochester, and your wife, are they okay?”
“Last I heard.”
“And you’re with her?” Winter said, disgusted, nodding towards Janet, who was sitting next to her wringing her hands and shaking nervously.
“And me,” Swig pointed out.
“Not that I’m not thankful for you letting us out,” Leven interrupted, “but who are you?”
“It’s a long story,” Tim replied.
“Talk fast,” Geth suggested.
Tim launched into what he had been through as Winter stared at him and Janet in amazement. Tim told them all about Ezra and Dennis and how Sabine had finally perished. He talked about the condition of Reality and how ev
eryone was crazy and nervous about the state of the world. He told them how they had tried to build a gateway but it had only worked once—on him.
“The missing part of me is named Ezra?” Geth asked.
“Yes,” Tim answered. “And his wrath is something to be concerned about.”
Geth looked at all of them. “I used to have issues,” he said.
“Men and their anger,” Winter complained.
“We’ve got to get out of here before our absence is noticed,” Geth said.
“It’s not going to be easy sneaking you three out,” Tim said.
“I’m not getting out yet anyway,” Leven insisted. “I’m not leaving without Clover.”
Winter put her arm around Leven. “I know how you feel, but if we don’t escape, all that Clover has done will be for nothing.”
“You can go,” Leven said steadfastly. “But I’m not. I’m finding Clover.”
“We’ll stay together, then,” Geth said. “Tim, you and Janet would be best to keep acting as if you are with the armies. If they catch you with us, it won’t do anyone any good.”
“I won’t leave Winter,” Janet said.
“You left me plenty of times in Reality,” Winter reminded her, still not believing in Janet’s change of heart or feeling comfortable around her.
Janet began to cry harder.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Tim said to Winter. “But she really has changed.”
“And I know I should just accept it, but seeing you and her is still almost impossible to believe,” Winter said.
“Maybe time will help,” Tim said. “We’ll split from you three, to help find your sycophant. We can cover more ground in two groups, and if we’re stopped we can just look confused.”
Janet already did.
“Good, and if you find Clover first, release him and he’ll be able to track us down,” Geth said. “Otherwise we’ll meet you at the gloam.”
“I have no idea what that is,” Tim replied.
“I do,” Swig said.
“It’s where all of Azure’s troops are now heading,” Leven said. “Follow them.”
“Above the gloam there’s a forested cliff on the over side. We’ll meet you at the top of that,” Geth said.
Tim hugged Winter and Winter tried to smile at Janet.
“I’m so sorry,” Janet cried.
Winter didn’t know what to do. Tim, Swig, and Janet moved out from behind the jugs and ran quickly.
“Any idea where we should start looking for Clover?” Geth asked Leven.
“I’ve got no feeling whatsoever,” Leven answered. “I wish—”
Winter held up her hand. “Someone’s coming.”
The sound of dozens of soldiers marching nearer swirled around their ears.
“There are some coming from the other direction as well,” Geth said.
The noise increased until both groups of soldiers were right in front of the alcove.
“You,” they heard Azure say. “Take your regiment and join those marching to Sycophant Run. Make sure all of you carry weapons. The Dearth will travel with you.”
“As you desire,” a deep-voiced rant replied. “Do we wear our blindfolds?”
“That won’t be necessary. Cusp has folded.”
“What about the rants who are wounded?”
“Everyone is being moved out,” Azure said. “You are some of the last. We’re marching on. I’ll join you as soon as I take care of a couple of . . . loose ends.”
“What about the—”
“No more questions,” Azure interrupted. “Go.”
All the soldiers marched up while Azure headed down.
“Let’s wait a second before . . .” Geth started to say.
Leven wasn’t in the mood to wait. He grabbed one of the empty clay jugs. Moving as quickly and silently as he could, he charged down the tunnel in Azure’s direction.
Azure looked back, thinking Leven was just another rant. “What now? I said . . .”
Leven had not been brought up by nice people. He had never really been taught to be kind to others. In fact, on a number of occasions Terry had told him that kindness was only for rich people who needed tax write-offs. Despite the bad upbringing, Leven was well aware of right and wrong. And despite how wrong it might sound, Leven had never felt quite as right as when he slammed that clay jug into Azure’s head, knocking him out cold.
Azure fell to the ground as shards of the broken container clanked and chirped against the stone floor.
Winter came running up behind Leven. She looked down at Azure and then back at Leven. Geth joined them. Leven grinned at them both.
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” Leven said.
“I can see that,” Geth said.
“I have a plan,” Leven admitted. “Quick, grab his feet.”
Geth grabbed Azure’s feet and Leven took his arms while Winter picked up his kilve. They ran down the tunnel and past the cavern they had been held in.
“Aren’t you going to lock him up?” Winter said.
“No.”
Leven and Geth carried Azure into the organ room. The poor nit was still chained to the organ. He shook when he saw Leven and Geth carrying Azure in such a way.
“Don’t say a word,” Winter said to the nit, catching on to what Leven was thinking and waving Azure’s kilve.
Winter opened the door on the candor box and Leven and Geth crammed Azure into it. Leven shut the door and slid the thick bolt to lock it.
“Play something,” Leven ordered the nit.
“But I can’t just . . .”
“Play something and we will cut you free before we go.”
The nit began to play the organ. The sound was mellow and deep. Leven could feel the notes in his own chest.
Through the holes they could see Azure begin to stir. His head swayed and then his eyes popped open. The shock of his predicament caused him to shake and curse violently. He beat against the inside of the box.
“How dare you?” Azure said, his anger mellowing in the soothing music. “How . . .”
Leven stepped up to the holes and smiled.
“Do you know what I’m going to ask you?” Leven questioned.
Azure relaxed even further.
“Lower,” Leven told the organist.
The music became even deeper and softer. It felt to Leven as if he were standing on an air-hockey table, hovering slightly.
“Do you know what I’m going to ask you?” he repeated.
“Yes,” Azure said reluctantly.
“What?” Leven questioned.
“About your sycophant,” Azure answered unwillingly.
“Is he okay?”
Azure was trying to stop himself, but he couldn’t; the candor box was working perfectly. “Clover’s . . . Clover’s . . .”
Leven pounded on the box. “Is he okay?”
Azure relaxed completely and gave in.
“Clover is . . .”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Connecting with the Dearth
It’s not easy to know or predict exactly what’s coming. Tomorrow’s full of hope, but certainty? Who knows? What’s up ahead could potentially be anything. I suppose that’s part of what makes life so interesting. If I knew that next Thursday at three fourteen I would be receiving an award for good posture, that would be great. But I’d probably get so nervous I would start slouching and the award would then be given to someone with a straighter back. I don’t like to think about such horrific things—and good posture is nothing to joke about.
Neither, of course, is predicting the future.
Some people on TV claim they can see your future. I’ve seen a man who throws down silverware and reads the patterns it makes on the ground to get an idea of tomorrow’s weather. And once, a woman with long hair and a deck of playing cards told me she could see my future. She went on and on about how someday someone would be holding this exact book and reading this very line at this very moment.
&n
bsp; Eerie, isn’t it?
I should thank you for being a part of my future, but first I must warn you about a piece of the past. You see, it seems that when Sabine was killed, the faint marks left on Dennis’s skin began to take on a life of their own. They had been shifting silently across Dennis’s body, but now they wanted to say something. And what they wanted to say had everything to do with the future. And whereas predicting the future isn’t always exact, the images and words forming on Dennis’s bald head were dead-on. Unfortunately, Dennis was too tall for Ezra to see the top of his head and because of that, the information printed on his scalp had so far gone undetected.
Until now.
Dennis scratched his shaved head. His brain was buzzing with anticipation and unease. He was not taking the death of Terry and Addy well. Despite how rotten they were, they were still humans and their deaths were sad to Dennis. But almost as unsettling was the fact that now Dennis would have to step up and play Terry’s role.
Dennis was not one to seek the spotlight, but the robe helped. He looked over at Ezra. The skinny toothpick was polishing his paper-clip leg. Ezra liked his new appendage. It wasn’t as responsive as his other leg, but it was sharp at the end and, as Ezra had cackled many times, “Indestructible!”
“It’s still a paper clip,” Dennis said in an effort to humble Ezra.
“You’re still just a fleshy bag of disappointment.”
“This is going to be hard to pull off,” Dennis said.
“Why do you even speak?” Ezra replied.
The motel room was cold, and the smell of bleach permeated the air. Ezra and Dennis had been trying to work on their plan, but it kept turning into a shouting match with Ezra demanding that Dennis be tested for actual brain function and Dennis threatening to break Ezra in half.
“It’s not much of a plan,” Dennis said for the tenth time. “It seems like a spotty way to build an army.”
“Have you ever felt good about yourself?” Ezra said, disgusted. “You more than anyone should know that people need to believe in something. We’ll just give them something new to believe in.”
“You yourself said you don’t know that much about Foo.”
“I know enough!” Ezra yelled. “I know Geth’s there, living an emotionally balanced life while I suffer. I know he came here for Leven, and I know that I will never rest until Geth is made to pay for what he did. I was part of a perfectly good tree; now look at me.”