by Obert Skye
“I wish I’d known it then,” Leven said.
“Hopefully you’ll see it that way yet again,” she said. “But for the moment let’s just be happy to be here.”
Amelia opened her arms and Leven ran forward. She grabbed him and hugged him as if he were indestructible. Leven leaned his head onto her shoulder and picked her up two inches off the ground. He set her down and stepped back two feet.
“I can’t believe it,” he said happily.
“You must have been through a lot,” she praised him, patting his left arm. “You’re so tall. And you look like your grandfather.”
Leven looked down. “I met him,” he said solemnly. “He was the Want.”
“That wasn’t your grandfather,” Amelia said. “That was a selfish old man who had been ill for so long his soul was nothing but a sick sludge.”
“But he’s dead,” Leven said.
“He died long ago,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through.”
“I’m not,” Leven said honestly. “Sometimes I think about none of this having ever happened and I get so anxious I can’t breathe. It’s been hard, but it’s been what it should be.”
“So you’re the Want?” she said with respect in her voice.
“I am,” Leven tried to say confidently.
Amelia let go of Leven’s hand. “I have great blank spots in my memory, but I can remember there were good times long ago. I can feel the soft afternoons and long days of Foo when the darkness was but a whisper in the halls of Morfit.”
“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Leven sighed.
Amelia just smiled.
“You’ll travel with Clover and me?”
Amelia looked up and put her right ear to the wind. “I’m afraid not. I’m going a different direction.”
“What?” Leven asked, shocked.
“I love you, Leven,” Amelia said. “Remember that. It’s important you know.”
“Why can’t you stay?”
“I am so proud of you.”
“But you can’t just leave!” Clover wailed.
Amelia looked up and laughed at Clover. “It’s obvious Leven’s in good hands. If fate is kind, we will see each other again.”
Amelia smiled one last time and then slipped into the trees and back behind some ruins. Clover waved good-bye and then blew his nose. Leven reached up and patted the sad sycophant. “It’s okay,” Leven said, trying to comfort him.
“I really do like this pretty version of her better,” Clover said honestly.
Leven smiled, happy to have real family once again wandering Foo.
Chapter Nineteen
The Disadvantages of Following the Crowd
Sadly, Sycophant Run was no longer the tranquil, beautiful haven it had always been. Gone were the sounds of laughter and soft winds. Buried in the stench of war were the smells of food and fresh tavel growing in the fields. Even beauty had fled. The huge flowers that had covered the land had closed their faces and were now deep in hiding. The legions of sycophants who had once guarded the shores were now either wounded or had retreated into the hills, hiding for their lives. A few still fought, but being visible they lost all advantage and were too easily picked off.
A large rope bridge with wide wooden slats had been constructed over the gorge on Sycophant Run. The structure was remarkably strong despite how haphazardly and quickly it had been thrown together. At the moment, crowds of beings were hiking across the bridge, heading for the exit.
Tim and Azure clomped across the bridge with Janet in tow. Swig was under Tim’s robe, hiding from danger and avoiding the sight of his damaged and destroyed homeland.
The air was filled with excitement and anticipation as people continued to hike through the tunnels and push out into Reality. Azure’s face was hidden beneath a green robe; thanks to the amazement of the moment, nobody gave him a second glance.
Tim stepped off the bridge and headed toward the marsh. “Are we close?”
“I have no idea,” Swig answered from beneath the robe. “I’ve never even been to this part of Sycophant Run.”
“We must be getting there,” Janet answered. “I can see people up ahead moving underground.”
“Can we sit for a second?” Azure asked. “I’m still pretty weak.”
Tim would have loved to just leave Azure and Janet and run until he was back in Reality with his family, but Tim was not that kind of person. He had come here in the first place because he cared about Winter, and he would stay with Azure because he believed it was the right thing to do.
“All right,” Tim said. “We’ll rest for a moment. But we’ve got to hurry.”
Tim led Azure to an overturned wooden cart that someone had abandoned. They sat down on the bottom side of the cart and watched the crowd of beings push past them.
“I don’t believe it,” Azure said, emotion tainting his voice.
“You don’t believe what?” Tim asked.
“I’m a lithen,” he said sheepishly. “I grew up believing there was no way out of Foo. Now I see that the very things we taught others were false. I’m not a sentimental being, but the moment I step into Reality, I believe my heart might burst.”
“It’s a remarkable place,” Tim said. “I suppose it might seem a bit pale in comparison to here, but the heart of Reality is no smaller than that of Foo.”
“What do you do there?” Azure asked Tim.
“I gather people’s trash,” Tim answered proudly.
“I don’t understand,” Azure said.
“I take control of what others throw out.”
“Do you like that?” Azure asked.
“It gives me a lot of time to think.”
“And that’s a desirable commodity in Reality?” Azure asked.
“I believe time to think is a desirable commodity in any realm,” Tim said, smiling.
Azure smiled wide and his blue eyes lightened.
“When I get out I can’t wait to give myself what-for,” Janet butted in. “I only hope that I will listen to myself.”
“How can a whisp exist in Reality?” Swig asked from beneath Tim’s robe. “I don’t understand.”
“Can’t you tell him to keep to himself?” Janet asked.
“It is a travesty to all that is sane when the voice of a sycophant is the only voice of reason,” Swig argued.
“Perhaps you should leave us,” Azure said. “Certainly, as the voice of reason, you can see the wisdom in you staying here.”
“No,” Tim insisted. “Swig comes with me.”
“I’m afraid Azure’s right,” Swig contradicted. “This is my leaping-off point.”
“What?” Tim asked. “I need you. I want my sons to see you.”
“I’m sorry,” Swig said. “But it’s not the role of a sycophant to abandon Foo. If you wish to leave, then my duty is over.”
Tim looked wounded from the neck up.
“There’s no need for me to help you adjust to what you are already comfortable with,” Swig pointed out. “You’re messing with the balance of everything.”
“Please, Swig,” Tim said.
“It wouldn’t be right.”
“Well, then, we’ll come back and visit when everything settles.”
Swig crawled out from Tim’s robe and stared at him. “It is interesting to me what you nits can tell yourselves to make yourselves feel better. Does it make things easier?”
“I don’t like you,” Janet said.
“I’m not sure it’s important that you do,” Swig pointed out honestly.
“We should go,” Tim said, changing the subject abruptly. He stood and helped Azure up. “Are you doing okay?”
Azure nodded. “I feel stronger. I should be well when we reach Reality.”
The four of them were sucked right back into the thick string of refugees who were tromping across the marsh. Mud seeped up around Tim’s feet and dragged at the hems of his and Azure’s robes.
Janet commented on how
fortunate she was that mud couldn’t cling to her, but she was ignored by everyone.
They followed the masses, walking on a wide, spiral dirt path into the tunnel. Quickly the outside world disappeared and there was nothing but darkness and torchlight. The cavern walls were lined with lit torches that cheered and giggled as everyone walked past them.
The tunnel was around fifteen feet wide and seven feet tall. The walls were all dark stone, and the floor was covered with black, dry dirt. The sounds of footsteps and excited voices bounced off the rock walls and filled everyone’s heads with constant noise.
The cavern wound down farther. A number of beings became too impatient to walk at the speed they were going and quickly ran past Tim and his group in a race to get out.
“Swig, are you here?” Tim asked.
There was no answer.
“Are you gone?”
Again nothing.
“Don’t worry about him,” Janet said. “You’ll see your kids.”
Tim looked back down the cavern.
“He’s just a sycophant,” Azure said hotly.
“We’ve all given up something we will miss,” Janet reminded him. “Azure used to lead all of these people, and I had . . .”
“Osck,” Tim said, pointing.
“Yes,” Janet admitted sadly. “I just—”
“No,” Tim said with excitement. “There’s Osck.”
Janet looked to where Tim was pointing. Down the tunnel, standing near a wall of colored glass, was Osck. He was standing still, watching everyone who walked by.
“Osck!” Tim yelled.
Osck turned and spotted Tim. He then saw Janet right behind him and smiled. Janet glided through everyone and right up next to him. She tried to touch Osck, but her hands and body kept slipping though him.
“You’re here,” she said.
“Of course,” Osck replied. “I felt certain you would eventually come this way.”
“And you waited,” Janet said happily.
“I figured there was little harm in waiting a short while longer to enter Reality,” Osck said without emotion. “I have waited my whole life; why not wait a bit longer and enter with you, whom I love?”
There almost wasn’t room enough in the tunnel for Janet’s smile.
“Love,” Janet finally said.
“We’re not much,” Osck said. “You are but a whisp and I a simple echo, but we are meant to stand together.”
Tim greeted Osck and quietly introduced him to Azure. Osck was too busy staring at Janet to really acknowledge him.
“We should keep going,” Tim finally prompted.
All four of them walked into the darkness toward the large wooden door. Tim was the first to step through. Janet and Osck were laughing as they moved into the wet part of the tunnel that the map of glass had mapped out. The watery walls were dark and rippling and the floor was marked clearly with a luminous smudge that the Dearth had left.
“That’s water above us?” Janet asked.
“It is,” Tim said.
“How does it not crash in around us?” Osck asked nervously. It wasn’t the greatest feeling for a fiery echo to be surrounded by water.
“The map of glass,” Azure answered. “The course is made clear on the map. But it is not a set course; it will shift in three days. That’s why it is so important to move quickly.”
Osck picked up his pace, pushing into a group of rants in front of them. The tunnel of water turned and then slanted up five feet. It grew wider and then twisted around almost into the reverse direction. Osck stuck to the middle of the tunnel with Janet by his side.
At one point the tunnel twisted in such a way that it almost felt like they were walking upside down.
Just as Tim was beginning to doubt his ability to distinguish up from down and over from under, he saw a round circle of light ahead. Soon the light grew bigger and the deafening sound of cheering could be heard. Everyone in the tunnel surged forward, trying to contain their excitement.
Osck reached the exit first. He looked up from the bottom of Blue Hole Lake and marveled at the light. He began to scale the walls of the tiny, empty lake. Janet was scrambling right next to him.
Osck looked at her. “Is this real?”
Janet was too happy to speak.
Tim helped Azure climb the walls of Blue Hole Lake. Azure’s robe kept getting caught underfoot, making it hard for him to move.
“Throw it off,” Tim said, peeling off his own robe.
“But . . .” Azure tried to say.
“But nothing,” Tim smiled. “Robes aren’t really a Reality thing.”
Azure and Tim dropped their robes behind them and climbed the walls quicker. Five minutes later, on the heels of Janet and Osck, they all busted up over the edge of Blue Hole and climbed up the concrete steps. All four of them blinked and marveled, finding it hard not to just stop and take it all in. But there was a wide stream of beings behind them pushing them forward. The air was filled with the sound of cheering and helicopters hovering overhead.
Tim stared at the rows and rows of soldiers and military vehicles as he was herded past the crowds and into the large fenced-off areas.
“We made it,” Tim said to Azure.
Azure bent over and grabbed his stomach.
“You okay?” Tim asked.
“I’m fine,” Azure lied.
All four of them shuffled down the path toward their designated waiting area.
Chapter Twenty
The Worst Shall Be Third
There are billions and billions of different dreams. There are the boring ones that simply put you in normal situations doing normal things, like grocery shopping, or picking out school clothes, or doing the dishes. There are the messed-up ones, where you can see you’re somewhere, but your brain is telling you you’re somewhere else, like you see yourself on a ski slope but your brain tells you you’re back in your old elementary school serving detention. There are the painful ones, where you spend the whole time looking for a bathroom only to wake up and realize you’d really better find one fast. And there are those amazing, not-to-be-missed dreams where you’re flying and you wish you would never, ever, ever, ever wake up—not even to use the bathroom.
And then, of course, there are those dreams that you feel you never really wake up from, and you stumble about the next day just trying to clear your head.
It was that kind of dream Leven was now hoping to shake.
He walked quickly over the broken glass. His feet bounced with each step, making his knees hurt more than usual. He looked ahead and saw nothing but trees and fog and green and mist and stone. That, mixed with the thoughts of Amelia in his head, made his mind a wet and confusing place.
“She was real, right?” Leven asked Clover.
Clover materialized, hanging from Leven’s left elbow. “She looked real to me,” Clover answered. “But remember that time in Reality when I thought I saw that barn in the distance but it was just a mirage.”
“It was just a garage,” Leven clarified. “A garage—no barn.”
“Yeah,” Clover said. “That’s what I mean. Maybe Amelia was just a trick of the mind. But she seemed real to me.”
“Me too,” Leven said softly. “Look at that.”
Leven pointed to a tall, dark wall that ran across the path in both directions. It was made of black stone and was at least twice Leven’s height. At the point where it crossed the glass path, there was a crumbling archway. Only a few precarious-looking rocks were still holding together at the top of the arch.
“Come on,” Leven waved.
When they reached the wall, Clover hopped off Leven’s arm, climbed up, and jumped over. Leven glanced beyond the piles of crumbly rock and looked through the archway.
Clover jumped back over the wall and landed on Leven’s left shoulder. “Looks safe enough. I saw a sharp stick and a couple of rocks you might want to avoid.”
Leven climbed over the pile of rock and through the archway. Once through,
he noticed two people kneeling on the ground with their heads down. They were a long way down the glass path and looked harmless, but Leven pulled his kilve out just in case. Before he got all the way to them, he recognized them from the clothes they were wearing.
“Aunt Addy?” Leven questioned. “Terry.”
They both lifted their heads. Their eyes were ringed with red, and tears were slipping down their cheeks. Leven felt no compulsion to run to them. In fact, if he felt anything at all, it was an urgency to run away.
“What are you doing here?” Leven asked, dumbfounded.
“Leven,” Addy sobbed.
“I don’t understand,” Leven admitted. “You’re here.”
“We’re dead,” Terry cried. “As dead as Elvis. We got hit by a truck, and just as we was settling into an eternity of misery, we was zoomed here.”
“You’re dead?”
“Completely,” Terry wailed.
Addy cried harder. “We were awful to you.”
“That’s true,” Leven said.
“I should have treated you like a son,” Terry yelped.
“You should have treated me like a human,” Leven threw out.
“Even just before we died, we was thinking of exploiting you,” Addy said. “Can you ever forgive us?”
“Of course,” Leven said without pause, his voice in perfect control. “I forgave you a long time ago.”
“Why?” Terry asked, looking up at Leven.
“You two are who you are,” Leven pointed out. “I couldn’t let your cruelty make me something I couldn’t stand to be.”
“Cruelty,” Addy wailed.
“You had a chance to make my life better and you chose not to,” Leven said calmly. “You made it very easy for me to walk away.”
The two of them were still kneeling and their shoulders shook as they sobbed. Addy finally looked up. “So you’re okay?”
Leven smiled. “I think so.”
“We’re so sorry,” Addy blubbered.
“We really are,” Terry added. “My stomach feels like a loaf of lead when I think of how we treated you.”
“Well, then, stop thinking about it,” Leven insisted kindly. He stepped up to them and patted them on their heads. They wrapped their arms around his legs and cried like the world had just run out of fried food. Leven patted them in such a way as to say, “It’s okay that you treated me like dirt; these things happen.”