by Obert Skye
The weather was no longer making any sense. The suns were bouncing around in the sky as clouds drifted in and began to spray rain over everything. The thunder and lightning joined in and the temperature was rocketing up and dropping rapidly.
“What’s up with the sky?” Leven yelled.
“Azure’s messing so heavily with time he’s thrown everything off,” Geth yelled back.
A small moon pushed its top up and ducked back down below the horizon. The light of the sky flickered like film running through a projector as the suns surged.
Leven moved to run but was stopped by Geth’s hand on his arm.
“We’ve got to find Clover!” Leven hollered.
“Of course,” Geth said. “But running into the troops might not be the best course of action. Fate might need him to save us if we did that.”
“What do we do?” Leven yelled.
“Stand still,” Geth said.
“Nice plan,” Leven criticized. “No wonder Azure doesn’t want to be a lithen.”
“No,” Geth explained. “Try to feel where Clover is.”
“I’m no sycophant,” Leven reminded Geth. “I don’t have that skill.”
“But you have been connecting with creatures,” Geth said.
“Try it,” Winter ordered.
The scene was so horrific and chaotic. Noise and weather were shooting around like fireworks. Those few nits who had previously been playing shatterball were now flying through the air fighting for one side or the other.
“I can’t think straight,” Leven argued. “My gift’s not working.”
“Where’s Clover?” Geth asked calmly.
“You’re not listening.”
“Where’s Clover?” Geth asked again.
Leven closed his eyes, more out of disgust than agreement. The noise around him softened. He could hear voices that belonged to dreams he couldn’t yet see. He could feel the cries and fear of some animals caught in the battle. He could see a thin beam of light shoot into the sky. Leven’s thoughts shifted and he could see images of himself and Winter woven into that light. The light began to descend and the beam angled so as to blind Leven.
Leven held his hands up to block the light. His eyes flashed open and noise rushed back into his head like angry traffic. Leven could still see the faint line of light. It shot out across the field and into the distance.
“That way,” Leven pointed.
“Nice,” Geth said excitedly.
“Follow me,” Leven yelled.
Leven jumped over two short stone walls and dove against the back of a rant who was pummeling a cog. The rant flew to the ground, his body skidding across the grass. Leven put his right foot down on the rant’s right wrist and yanked the kilve from his hand. In one swift move that seemed to surprise even him, Leven swung the kilve backwards and came down with the thick end on top of the rant’s head.
The rant just lay there moaning on the ground.
“Did you see that?” Leven said, impressed with himself.
“See what?” Winter asked, holding two kilves.
Leven turned to see two rants lying on the ground.
“Don’t worry,” Winter insisted. “You’ll get better.”
Winter tossed one of the kilves to Geth, who was smiling.
“Her attackers were smaller,” Geth tried to help.
Leven shook his head and grinned. “Come on.”
The three of them pushed through the field swinging their kilves and moving quickly across the ground. After a few hundred feet it was obvious how much more skilled Geth was. He swung and moved his kilve as if it were a part of him. He thrust it forward, catching rants under their chins and lifting them off the ground. Then with a flick he sent them flying.
Leven and Winter gladly let Geth take the lead.
Geth was like a kilve master. He twirled the kilve, clipping six enemies, and then thrust it down and sideways, knocking two more out cold. Leven tried to imitate the moves but he never had quite the same result.
Geth’s ability attracted some attention. A huge avaland moved in from the right side, carrying two black skeletons on its back. The skeletons held tall, thin staffs in their hands. Their staffs were longer than kilves, and so thin they looked fragile.
One of the skeletons thrust his staff downward. The weapon took on the characteristics of a whip and wrapped around Winter, binding her. Leven grabbed hold of Winter and pulled, yanking the black skeleton off the avaland. The second rider jumped off towards Leven and Winter. Leven twisted his kilve and pulled it backwards, catching the skeleton in his bony stomach as he descended. The kilve sliced through and bones scattered everywhere. The skeleton’s head tumbled, still cursing at Leven.
Winter was trying to free herself as the other skeleton got to his feet. Geth’s kilve came down on top of him from behind. The bones clattering against each other sounded like a dull wind chime.
The skeleton’s head rolled to the side and it tried to bite Leven on the ankle. Leven kicked it away, sending it flying into the back of a fighting rant.
The avaland the skeletons had been riding turned to face Leven. It opened its huge mouth and dirt billowed out. Winter backed up, but Leven stood still. The dirt beast lowered its head.
“Get on it,” Geth said. “The creature trusts you.”
Leven jumped up and grabbed ahold of the growth protruding from the avaland’s forehead. He scaled the face of the beast and sat where he had seen the skeletons perched. Geth and Winter followed him up and sat behind him, gripping the vines and roots that covered the avaland’s back.
Leven looked up and could still faintly see the beam of light pointing him towards Clover.
“Ride,” Leven commanded.
The avaland roared across the meadow, bowling down anyone or anything in its way.
“This is much better!” Winter yelled.
The balloons overhead were dipping and lifting in an effort to avoid the lightning and weather. Leven could see wave after wave of rants spilling over the hill and into the Meadows. Leven’s heart sank as he looked out over all those who now lay silently on the ground.
All around, innocent nits and cogs were beginning to surrender. It was obvious they were no match for the endless armies of Azure.
“They’re giving up!” Winter cried. “I can’t believe it.”
Leven shifted, and the avaland seemed to connect with the faint beam of light Leven could see. Up ahead were thousands of rants all packed together tightly and swinging metal weapons.
The avaland parted the mass of assailants who tried to jump on its back and pull off its passengers. Winter kicked a rant in the face and sent him hurling back down into the crowd. Geth held his kilve like a lance and took out a handful of enemies with one forceful jab. Leven threw his kilve like a spear and managed to tag two.
Up ahead the edge of the field met a high stone wall, creating a dead end. The faint beam of light Leven saw seemed to pierce the stone. The avaland continued towards the cliff at full gallop.
“They can’t go through stone,” Winter yelled, holding onto Leven. “Make it stop!”
“I can’t!” Leven called back.
“Make it turn,” Geth suggested.
“I can’t make it do anything,” Leven cried. “Either we jump, or we’re . . .”
Before Leven could finish his sentence the avaland bucked and then dove headfirst down into the soil. They held on tightly as the great beast wormed its way under the ground. Dirt rumbled overhead and pushed the three of them tightly against the avaland.
It was dark, but light broke through as another avaland crossed their path from a different direction. The air was filled with dirt and hard to breathe. Leven could feel his lungs struggling to find enough oxygen.
The avaland moved into a large underground cave. Like a saving gift, air rushed around the three of them and they all gladly breathed deeply.
Torches lined the cave walls and Leven could see dozens of large tunnels with avalands movi
ng in and out of them. The beast they were riding on ran up a steep, stony slope and into a massive cavern.
All three of them gasped in awe and amazement.
The cavern’s ceiling was covered with bright flecks of gold, and stone archways circled its edges. A great fire burned in a blue clay pit in the center of the room and smoke filled the air in patterns of stars and sunbeams. Around the fire were massive piles of metal weapons guarded by black skeletons.
Leven, Winter, and Geth rode through the room undisturbed. So many avalands were moving in and out that no one noticed the three of them. They hugged their ride as tightly as possible, hoping to blend into the back of the beast.
A rant with a massive left side stood at the far edge barking out orders. All around the cave stood small cottages. Some looked to be growing out of the sides of the cave and others were stacked on top of rocks or tucked down in tunnels. Most of the small cottages had fires burning in them that lit the windows like oval stars.
“I didn’t know this place was here,” Geth said excitedly.
“You sound happy that it’s here,” Winter whispered.
“I am,” Geth replied.
“Clover should be here,” Leven said. “I can feel it.”
“Is he alive?” Winter asked.
“I hope so,” Leven said, wanting more than anything to believe it.
The avaland stopped at the opening of another cave. Leven slid off its back and Geth and Winter followed. The avaland was blocking anyone from seeing them. They were trapped between two small cottages—one was lit, the other was pitch-black.
“Stay,” Leven said, not exactly sure how to talk to the beast.
The avaland grumbled and collapsed on the ground, blocking the doorway and keeping them hidden.
Light flashed on in the dark cottage and Leven could see a streak of blue move through the front of the house.
“Azure,” Geth said needlessly.
Through the front window they watched Azure drag a little man across the floor. The man, Time, collapsed on the ground, and Azure stood over him speaking.
“What’s he saying?” Winter asked.
“If I could hear through walls, I’d tell you,” Leven answered.
Geth was already moving to the front of the cottage. He tried the door and then signaled to Leven and Winter that it was locked. He motioned that he was going around the other side. Leven and Winter then moved around their side, meeting up with Geth at the back.
The back of the cottage was dark and ripe with mold and rot from the cave’s dampness. Luminescent ivy grew thick and dense across the rear wall. The back door was locked, but thanks to the rotted door frame Leven was able to easily and quietly push it open.
They carefully stepped inside. The back door led to a small hall and the hall opened into a dark kitchen. The kitchen was filled with old fruit and vegetables. A dead duck hung from a hook near a broken window.
The three of them crouched down and moved through the kitchen. They could hear Azure talking.
“You still have work to do!” he yelled. “You’re not done.”
“I’m done,” a weak male voice replied. “I can’t do more.”
“You were rewarded greatly,” Azure said. “You can’t be done. You are required only to sit still.”
“I am sitting still, and yet time continues to move,” the weak voice said. “My time has passed.”
“No!” Azure shouted. “One more stop. The Dearth’s disappointment isn’t a pleasant thing. I must finish them off, and we have no influence over your successor. He keeps time even now and avoids the soil.”
The sound of someone falling against the floor could be heard. The three moved around a short wall to get a better look. Azure was standing over the small, nearly lifeless man. Azure kicked him and the little man let out a final moan.
Azure sniffed and tugged at his mangled ear.
“It’s over,” Geth said, stepping forward and showing himself to Azure.
“How—” Azure sneered.
“Where is he?” Leven interrupted, not caring about anything but Clover.
“Where is who?” Azure barked.
“Where is he?” Winter said, ignoring him.
“I’m not sure what you’re speaking of,” Azure said, stepping back.
“Clover,” Geth clarified. “What have you done with him?”
“Clover? What a fool you are, Geth,” Azure seethed. “A lithen with no vision. Reality has made you dispassionate and pointless. Foo and Reality are about to combine, we’ll have endless power, and yet you’re worried about a single sycophant?”
Geth delivered a perfect hit to Azure’s face. Azure stumbled backwards, catching himself by bracing his hands against the wall.
“Where is he?” Geth said.
Azure rubbed his chin. His face was already swelling.
“He has to be close by,” Leven said angrily. “You couldn’t have taken me far.”
“I think it’s probably too late,” Azure smiled, spitting blood. “Poor Clover.”
“I don’t believe it,” Leven raged.
Azure stood tall and pushed his hair back. His infected ear was bulbous and bleeding and his blue eyes were as hard as granite.
“Do you know where you are?” Azure asked.
“I don’t . . .” Leven started to say.
“Of course you don’t,” Azure said. “Do you know what’s about to happen?”
Geth pushed his blond hair out of his face. The two lithens locked eyes.
“Do you realize what would happen if I called out?” Azure asked. “Thousands would descend upon us and simply wipe you out. You have tricked fate by stealing in and out of Foo. You are not invincible. I, on the other hand, might have to endure a few more of your weak right jabs, but I will live to see you die.”
“We only want Clover,” Leven tried to reason. “What good is he to you?”
“Alive?” Azure questioned. “Not much. Dead? Well, his bones would provide hundreds of shards to silence hundreds of other sycophants, and thus make our journey onto Sycophant Run and through the caves that much easier.”
“Is there no reason left in you?” Geth asked. “Have you forsaken all thought and decency?”
“Nice words,” Azure said. “But I simply saw the way things were going and hitched a ride with the greater power. The Dearth will rule both Foo and Reality and I’ll know power like no other lithen has ever experienced.”
Winter looked bored. She shook her head and scoffed.
“You have something to say about that?” Azure asked, bothered.
“What a couple of idiot men,” she said. “You and the Dearth make quite a pair. You realize that if he were to take over Reality, you would eventually wither away and die?”
“That’s lithen lore,” Azure sniffed. “Man will continue.”
“Are you sure?” Winter asked. “Are you confident that when the Dearth gets his way there will be any life for you?”
“Shut up,” Azure said, scratching violently at his ear. “Shut up. You understand nothing.”
“I’m thinking it’s you who is confused,” Geth said. “Come on, Azure. It’s not too late. Zale held you in the highest regard. You can still save Foo.”
“Your brother Zale is dead,” Azure barked. “A lot of good it did him to fight for Foo.”
“He died with honor.”
“I’d rather live with reward.”
Azure rocked back and forth on his feet and then lunged forward, head butting Leven without warning. Leven dropped to the ground and Geth jumped over him, giving Azure chase.
Azure ran out of the front of the cottage and into the cave. Winter leaped at him and Geth ran directly into her. They went down in a heap of blonde hair and limbs. Leven stumbled over both of them as he dashed to the front door. They all exploded out of the cottage and stopped short.
Azure stood smiling at them, fifty rants behind him. They all held kilves and all had blood in their right eyes. Geth and Wint
er held up their own kilves in defense. Winter blew her hair out of her eyes and sighed.
“I wish I could say I was surprised,” Leven said.
“Think we can take them?” Geth asked.
“I’m usually up for a fight,” Winter replied. “But maybe they’ll take us to Clover.”
Leven was the first to put up his hands in surrender. Geth and Winter dropped their kilves and followed suit. Three rants moved in quickly behind them and bound their arms. Then, in a not-so-gentle fashion, Leven, Winter, and Geth were escorted away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Palms Up
Trouble is a tricky thing. At its most intense it can be incredibly dangerous, and at its least it can be bothersome. Being in trouble is bad. Getting out of trouble is good and is often the subject of some touching after-school TV special starring a boy who wears sweaters and a girl with a barrette in her hair. Some people are trouble. Perhaps you know someone with a scar on his cheek and a leather vest who doesn’t wipe his feet on the mat before coming inside. That’s trouble. Some people seek trouble—they are called trouble junkies or peculiar. For these people their lives just don’t seem to work unless something is going wrong or they have something troublesome to complain about.
People like that are the exact opposite of sycophants.
Sycophants seek nothing but happiness. They believe the very oxygen they breathe has the potential to make them happier. Even as Rast and Reed walked across Sycophant Run on their way to a
troublesome task they had interest and wonder in their worried hearts.
“This really is exciting,” Rast said reflectively. “I mean, if you think about it, we’re making history.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Reed answered. “But making history isn’t always a great thing.”
“We’ve nothing to fear,” Rast reminded Reed. “It’s not as if it will kill us.”
“That’s true,” Reed said again. “I wonder why I’m nervous?”
“You’re always nervous,” Rast joked.
The dirt path they were walking along descended into a field of lush green turf and white glassy flowers that shone like marbles under the sun.