Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo

  Leven slept fitfully. He tossed and turned, his head full of images of rants and war. He was on the outside of the group, lying on the edge of the stone ground next to the bushes. He flipped over and tried to get comfortable on his back. His brown eyes flashed open and then burned gold. He closed his eyelids and tried to think of his father and mother, or of anyplace warm and safe.

  Leven felt old, although only a short time ago he had been a child.

  The stone was hard and difficult to get comfortable on. He settled his back just a bit onto the dirt beneath the bushes. The dirt was so soft compared to the rock. Leven pulled back, knowing he shouldn’t. After a few more restless minutes he leaned against the dirt once more.

  Something scratched at his ankle and as he moved to itch it, thick, rubbery strands of black whipped around his mouth and body. He tried to scream but his face was covered. Instantly the strands coiled tight, trapping Leven. The black strings slipped him silently from the others and into the cold, wet forest.

  Leven was drawn in like a retracting measuring tape. He slapped up and down against the ground—pulled down the hill and across miles of land. He plowed through the dirt like a cartoon dog burrowing through a field. He weaved in between stones and soldiers and flew across the Sentinel Fields and out onto the gloam.

  Once on the gloam Leven was picked up and slammed down on the soil with a tremendous smack. He moaned.

  “Get up,” a kind voice said.

  Leven pushed himself up onto his knees, his back to the voice. His whole body felt like one giant bruise.

  “You don’t have to put on the act for me,” Leven said. “I’m very aware of your true being.”

  Leven stood up and turned around. He was standing on the gloam a couple of miles out from the shore. The night was dark and Leven could hear the Veil Sea on both sides of him. The gloam itself was about a mile thick and nothing but hard soil. The dark sky above was clear, and stars fizzled like sparklers around the two fat moons.

  “You are aware of very little,” the Dearth replied.

  Leven studied the short man in his vest and cap, his feet meshing with the ground. There was nobody else around. All the troops were still on the shore, asleep or preparing to march in the morning. Leven listened to the sea and hoped that Garnock was aware of what was happening.

  “Do you think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” the Dearth said. “The Waves will not protect you. Cry all you want; they are tending to something much more important to them.”

  “Garnock!” Leven yelled.

  “Here, I’ll help,” the Dearth said. “Garnock! Garnock, old boy!”

  The wind whistled down and around the two of them.

  “You don’t seem to understand,” the Dearth said sympathetically. “This is but a moment. You have stepped in at the end, but this second has been planned and organized to take place just as it is for thousands of years. And now you are approaching the end of your sad life.”

  Leven’s lungs struggled for air as he tried to stand still.

  “It’s true, I may have underestimated you,” the Dearth said. “Or, more precisely, I may have not ever factored you in—which was a mistake. Had I known you were of the same blood as the Want, I might have acted differently. He was successful at very little, but he did well keeping that thought from me. So many secrets, no wonder he went mad.”

  Leven’s hair blew and he could see the moons drawing near to observe. The scene was vast and cosmic, but it felt more intimate than Leven was comfortable with.

  “Why your allegiance to Geth?” the Dearth asked sincerely.

  “I believe him.”

  “But you can step with me and have real reward.”

  “Why do you even care?” Leven argued.

  “You know, you’re right?” the Dearth said. “I don’t. When Azure said you had escaped, I yawned. I can’t fight ignorance, and you’re a fool to side with anyone but me. I offer possibilities in the face of death.”

  Leven’s head buzzed. He looked up to the stars and then down to the Dearth. The scene was different now. The Dearth stood there alone and the world behind him was nothing but soil—no sky, no water, no life. The view was as miserable and heavy as anything Leven had ever seen. Leven’s heart shrank like a tomato left far too long on the vine.

  The Dearth’s eyes widened. “What do you see?” he asked suspiciously.

  “What you truly want,” Leven replied, disgusted. “Lithen party line? You lied. Geth’s right: You know exactly what will happen when you move into Reality. It will destroy everything.”

  The Dearth frowned. “I’m afraid so,” he said. “Everything will return to dust and I will be plagued by mankind no longer.”

  “You can’t,” Leven said angrily. “I’ll tell Azure the truth.”

  “Oh,” the Dearth said sadly. “About that, it might be a tad late. You see, Azure suffered an accident earlier this evening and isn’t feeling all that well.”

  “What?”

  “He’s been left for dead,” the Dearth said bluntly.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  The Dearth wriggled his feet and the dirt near Leven began to tumble and bubble up. Azure’s motionless body rose to the surface. Azure was covered in soil, his body twisted and bent. There was a large wet stain across the front of his right shoulder. Leven could see Azure’s chest rise and drop slowly. Azure coughed, and dirt fell from his mouth as he settled on the soil.

  “What have you done?” Leven asked, kneeling by Azure. He took Azure’s wrist and felt for a pulse.

  Azure’s eyes opened and he coughed again.

  “He never completely fit in,” the Dearth said sadly. “A little bit of good infected him until the end. He stood on too much stone. And when he lost the key and killed Time, that was just inexcusable. We’d be done with all of you and even closer to Reality had he not messed up. Besides, as only you now know, he won’t live much longer anyway. No one will. There’s still a bit of life left in him, but the accident has left him in ill repair.”

  Leven looked into Azure’s eyes. They were clear and so different from what they had once been. Azure coughed again and blinked. Leven shifted him to make him more comfortable.

  “Leave him be,” the Dearth bit. “He’s a piece of the past.”

  The Dearth’s body seemed to split open and drop to the ground. A black head and black limbs whipped out; the image of the kindly old man was replaced by a dark beast. The Dearth grabbed Leven and lifted him.

  Leven tore at the black, digging his nails and fingers into the goo. The Dearth hissed and dropped Leven down directly on top of Azure.

  Leven screamed and scuttled off of Azure. The Dearth wrapped one of his many limbs around Leven’s ankle and slapped him like a fish against the ground. Leven twisted and grabbed hold of the black limb. He pulled himself towards the Dearth and bit down on his shoulder.

  The Dearth screeched. Then, like a wave of dirty water, he washed over Leven and coiled tightly around his two legs. Leven tried to kick but the hold was too great. The Dearth drew into the ground, sliding beneath the soil like a sinkhole and dragging Leven with him.

  Leven clawed at the soil, fighting violently to stay above ground. The Dearth inhaled wickedly, gathering strength, and pulled Leven down. Azure was dragged along with them, moaning in pain. The soil collapsed over Leven as he sank. The Dearth let go of his legs and contracted the soil, cocooning Leven.

  “Such a pity,” the soil whispered in stereo. “Both of you have come so close to seeing me in my glory, and now to perish only moments before.”

  Leven could see nothing, but he could feel Azure’s foot right above his head. Leven pulled on Azure and dragged himself up through the soil. He grabbed Azure’s shoulders and climbed even farther, pulling Azure up with him. Leven’s head pushed out of the dirt and he opened his eyes to find himself staring directly at Azure.

  Azure was whispering something as Leven grabbed at the ground. Leven scrambled up out of the dirt and on
to level soil. He turned and pulled Azure up behind him. Leven stood and took two steps before the Dearth snatched him from behind and reeled him back like a reluctant yo-yo.

  The Dearth rose up above the soil and pinned Leven down with three of his sick, twisting limbs. Leven was lying five feet from Azure. The Dearth smiled and black drippings spilled from his mouth.

  “What an unwilling victim you are,” the Dearth hissed.

  He shot one of his limbs out over the ground. It raced past Leven like a snake and off into the distance.

  “Why are you doing this?” Leven asked. “You’ll destroy everything.”

  “I like the sound of that,” the Dearth laughed, soil raining down on Leven as he did so. “Everything comes from the soil—everything. I’m just putting everything back in its place.”

  The limb he had sent out retracted. The Dearth had retrieved a long, curved sword from some soldier miles away on shore. Leven was still pinned down and unable to move.

  The Dearth lifted the sword and held it two feet above Leven.

  “Ready to die?” the Dearth asked.

  Leven struggled to get out.

  “Sorry you don’t get a choice in the matter,” the Dearth said.

  Leven closed his eyes as the Dearth swung the sword down with force. Leven felt a heavy thud fall across his body. He opened his eyes to see Azure lying on top of him with the sword in his back.

  Azure looked at Leven. “Sorry,” he moaned.

  The Dearth pulled the sword from Azure’s back and rose up higher.

  “How beautiful,” he cackled, the wind and the sea screaming behind him. “A last attempt to do some good. Fool.”

  The Dearth threw the sword back down at Azure as he lay over Leven. Leven twisted and rolled Azure out of the way and onto his back. The sword struck the soil and the Dearth screamed. Leven moved away from Azure and tried to climb onto his feet.

  He was too slow. The Dearth clipped him at the ankles and pulled him down against the ground with a sharp clap. Leven’s lungs exploded as he struggled for breath. The Dearth covered Leven with cords of black and held him tightly against the soil on his back. He lifted the sword up again.

  “There’s no one left to save you,” he crowed proudly.

  “You won’t win!” Leven yelled, dirt and wind filling his mouth.

  “I beg to differ.”

  The Dearth thrust the sword towards Leven’s neck. Leven closed his eyes as the sword landed directly across his neck with a thud. The sword flew back, shaking violently.

  Leven’s eyes flashed.

  The Dearth tried again, this time plunging the sword toward Leven’s stomach. The sword hit and slid to the side.

  He tried again.

  Nothing.

  Again.

  Nothing.

  “No,” the Dearth moaned, drawing back.

  The Dearth wrapped five of his black strands around Leven’s neck and squeezed. Leven could still breathe perfectly.

  “No,” the Dearth thundered, releasing him.

  Leven sat up, feeling his neck. “Did you plan for this?” he asked.

  “No!” the Dearth yelled. “It’s too soon for you to be whole.”

  “I don’t make the rules,” Leven said. “I just . . .”

  Leven moved quickly to take advantage of the Dearth’s shock. He grabbed the sword from his limb and in a single smooth stroke sliced the Dearth in two. The top half of the Dearth fell to the ground while the bottom half wriggled and drew into itself. Leven watched the Dearth’s face and shoulders ooze into the ground.

  Leven dropped the sword and ran to Azure. He lifted him up under his arms and wrapped Azure’s right arm around his shoulder.

  Azure stared at him.

  “Hold on,” Leven yelled.

  Leven dragged Azure as the dark night and the tumultuous sea played out around them. Leven’s legs felt no burn as he moved down the gloam. He looked up at the dark sky and could see the light that all the moving stars and moons desired to glow. It lit up the night like a fluorescent bulb.

  Black shoots sprang up from below Leven and grabbed hold of his legs. The Dearth had regrouped.

  Leven fell to the ground with his back against the soil, Azure rolling to the side. The Dearth moved up over Leven. He was coughing and holding himself together where Leven had sliced through.

  “How dare you?” he growled.

  Leven lay still on his back, a strange calm filling his heart.

  Hundreds of thick black sprouts burst up from the ground and wrapped tightly around Leven. The Dearth tried to pull him back under the soil, but Leven didn’t move.

  “You’re whole!” The Dearth cursed.

  Leven smiled, looking up at the night sky. He moved his arms as he lay there and the strands of black flew off him.

  “You won’t stop me,” the Dearth said. “Feel that?”

  The ground rumbled beneath Leven’s back. It shook as if keeping time.

  “You can’t dam an entire army,” the Dearth smiled viciously.

  Leven lay there with his eyes closed, feeling the ground shake as thousands of soldiers began to march down the gloam toward Sycophant Run.

  Leven could see light in his mind. He could see the mess the immediate future would be and the beauty a restored Foo could bring about. The possibility felt almost impossible.

  “I’ll kill you!” the Dearth screamed.

  “You can’t,” Leven said, sitting up.

  “Then I’ll find the one who can,” the Dearth screamed.

  The Dearth slithered down into the soil and disappeared—leaving Leven alone with nothing but the rumbling of the ground and the thought of the one person who could actually follow through with the Dearth’s threat.

  “Impossible,” Leven said to himself.

  The wind howled and the ground shook as Leven picked up Azure and moved down the gloam.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The Son Will Come Out Tomorrow

  Elton Thumps stared at Dennis. Dennis scratched his nose self-consciously.

  “What do you know about Leven?” Elton said. “You claim to know so much about Foo.”

  “I know he’s alive,” Dennis said weakly.

  “That’s a fifty-fifty guess,” Elton said, the kindness in his voice slipping just a bit. “Listen, Dennis, I think you are getting into something you don’t have the fortitude to complete. This isn’t for you.”

  Ezra whispered something from behind Dennis’s ear.

  “Don’t tell us what we can or can’t do,” Dennis insisted.

  “Us?”

  “Me,” Dennis clarified.

  Elton looked at Dennis carefully.

  “Why are you even involved in this?” Elton asked. “Terry and Addy I could see, but you—you have no connection.”

  “I have what I know,” Dennis said forcefully.

  Ezra whispered an insult about Elton. Dennis smiled.

  “What was that?” Elton asked.

  “What was what?” Dennis said.

  “I heard a noise, and then you smiled.”

  “I’m a happy person,” Dennis explained.

  “No,” Elton said. “No, you’re not. I’ve read your file many times.”

  Ezra whispered something else.

  “There it is again.”

  “Quiet,” Dennis said, more to Ezra than to Elton.

  Ezra did not like being told what to do. He whispered again. Elton jumped up from where he was sitting and walked around the table and up to Dennis.

  “I think he’s wired,” Elton told Dimples, Mole, and Mustache.

  “We patted him down,” Mole said.

  Dennis stared straight ahead and tried not to look nervous. Ezra pushed back as far behind Dennis’s left ear as possible.

  Elton circled slowly around Dennis. He looked at the back of his head and then stopped moving. Elton’s jaw dropped.

  “What?” Ezra said. “Your small brain can’t process someone as powerful as me?”

  ??
?What is that?” Elton asked in awe.

  Dennis jumped up, but not before Elton had reached in and pinched Ezra. Ezra was screaming and kicking as Elton held him up in front of his face.

  “Unbelievable,” Mustache said.

  “Get me a jar,” Elton said.

  Dimples scuffled away.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Dennis said. “You should let go of him now.”

  “I knew you weren’t important by yourself,” Elton said cruelly to Dennis. “This is the missing piece.”

  “And you’re the missing link!” Ezra screamed.

  Dennis moved to get Ezra, but Mole and Mustache held him back.

  “Easy now,” Elton said. “You wouldn’t want to end up on our bad side.”

  Dimples returned and handed Elton a glass jar. Elton dropped Ezra in and then twisted the lid closed.

  Ezra was furious, bouncing around the inside of the jar like an over-caffeinated evil toothpick.

  Elton set the jar on the desk.

  “At least put some airholes,” Dennis said.

  Elton pulled out a small pocketknife, opened it, and violently jabbed two slits into the lid.

  “There,” Elton said smugly.

  Dennis pulled free from Mole and Mustache and slammed his right fist into Elton’s left cheek. Elton fell backwards onto the table, his glasses flying off. Mole and Mustache grabbed Dennis again. Elton stood up straight, trying to act calm.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Elton said, wiping blood from beneath his nose.

  “Don’t tell me what I shouldn’t do,” Dennis said. “Now let him loose.”

  Elton picked up the jar and looked at Ezra. The angry toothpick was pounding at the glass with his paper-clip leg. Elton smiled and tightened the lid.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Dennis said.

  “Really,” Elton replied. “And why is that?”

  “Because eventually you’re going to have to let him out,” Dennis answered. “And when you do, I would hate to be you.”

  “Well, that makes us even,” Elton Thumps said, “because I would hate to be you. Now sit down. I’ve got a few more questions.”