“And we’re sure he’s gone?” Clover asked, jumping down and messing with the empty rags.
“I think this was his last stop.”
“I wonder what it would be like to have lived such a dark life,” Clover said casually. “It would drive me crazy.”
“Yeah,” Leven smiled. “We’re lucky you’re on the good side. Now, we need to keep moving.”
“I think we should get something to eat first,” Clover suggested.
“Really?” Leven said. “You could eat after that?”
Clover looked at the mound of robe. “Maybe just something light.”
“Eat something out of your void,” Leven instructed, kicking the pile of Sabine’s clothes with his toe. “I know you have stuff in there.”
A strong wind snaked through the stone castle and rattled bits of decaying wood and uneven stones.
“Come on,” Leven said. “We’ve gotta go.”
Clover jumped up and grabbed onto Leven’s left arm. He then crawled around Leven’s back and settled on Leven’s right shoulder.
“What other unfinished business do you have?” Clover asked.
“I don’t know,” Leven answered honestly. “But I hope it’s as easy to settle as that.”
“I hope it’s in a nicer place.”
Leven and Clover walked the two floors of the castle searching for anything or anyone else. Finding nothing, they set out through a back breezeway and kept walking toward the center of Alder.
Chapter Sixteen
Pulchritude Aplenty
The day was coming into its own. The weather was cool, but a warm string of air was hovering waist high, reminding every being in Foo that, as pleasant as it was, it could be even better. The mountains of Morfit in the far distance were reflecting the green sunshine off their highest peaks and sending the light back out as shimmering waves.
Winter reached the edge of the Sentinel Fields and pulled her avaland to a graceful and impressive stop. The beast settled just feet from the fields near a low stone wall and a line of thick purple trees. Through the growth, Winter could see thousands and thousands of beings in the distance still moving across the fields toward Sycophant Run.
Winter looked over and saw Geth racing toward her. Geth was bouncing around on his avaland and trying desperately to bring it to a halt. It finally stopped, but only because it ran directly into Winter’s beast. Winter flew off her avaland, landing on her side and scraping her left shoulder. Her kilve tumbled over the dirt with her.
She came to a stop on the stone ledge that ringed the edge of the Sentinel Fields right by the shore. Geth jumped off his avaland and ran to her side. Blood was running down her left shoulder, and she was trying to rip her sleeve to look at it. Her blonde hair was hanging in her face, making it hard for her to see.
“I’m so sorry,” Geth said, kneeling down right next to her. “Those avalands are impossible to stop.”
“I stopped mine,” Winter pointed out, her voice giving away the fact that she was hurt.
“Do you mind?” Geth asked, motioning to Winter’s arm.
Winter shook her head, and Geth ripped her sleeve up to the shoulder. He stopped to stare at her arm.
“What?” Winter asked. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“No,” Geth said softly, beginning to wipe off her arm. “It’s not that at all. It’s just that when I tried to help pull you up out of the gunt, back when I was a toothpick, your arm was that of a child. Now you’re a . . . well . . .”
Winter blushed. “You at a loss for words?” she finally asked.
“I forget how much we’ve been through,” Geth smiled.
Geth took a leather bladder of water and poured some onto the swatch of Winter’s shirt he had ripped off. He cleaned up her scratch, dried it, and then covered it with the remaining material.
“Thanks,” Winter said self-consciously. She pulled herself up and looked out over the Sentinel Fields at the marching armies of refugees and escapees. The large trees above them brought their branches down just a few feet to make the scene even cozier. “Look at all those people—it’s like a river.”
“Impressive,” Geth whispered, sitting next to Winter.
“You’re impressed?” Winter asked. “What, you want to help them?”
“I want to stop them,” Geth answered. “But there’s no harm in marveling over what we have to conquer—it keeps me humble.”
Winter pulled her blonde hair back with her right hand and looked directly at Geth with her deep green eyes. “Do they train you lithens how to speak?”
“Nope,” Geth said. “It comes naturally.”
Winter smiled. “You look taller. Are you, or is it just your state of fluctuation?”
“I think you’re just finally beginning to look up to me,” Geth grinned.
Winter couldn’t stop herself from blushing again, and the branches on the trees closed in even more.
“You know, Winter,” Geth said calmly, “you really do . . .” Geth’s words went unfinished due to the arrival of a new voice.
“How pretty,” the melodious voice said. “I’ve been searching all over Foo for you, Geth, and here you are on a stone wall beneath the purple boughs of a fantrum tree with one very lovely nit.”
Both blushing, Geth and Winter turned to look at Phoebe smiling at them. She had come out of nowhere and appeared to be at least seven times prettier than when they had last seen her. Her wide blue eyes and soft features were hypnotizing, and the short green wrap she wore made her look like a very womanly fairy. She was hovering two inches above the ground, her thin wings humming so quickly that you couldn’t tell she even had them.
“Phoebe,” Geth said happily.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Phoebe said playfully.
“No,” Winter replied, the red in her cheeks barely subsiding. “We just got here ourselves.”
Geth stood up slowly, as if any quick movement might scare Phoebe away. “Where have you been?”
“All over,” she smiled. “It seems that Foo was in dire need of some passion. But now I’m here and alone.”
Winter cleared her throat.
“Yes, you’re here,” Phoebe amended. “But there are no longings left. What a sad thing for Foo.”
“I’m so sorry,” Geth said compassionately.
“Is there someone to blame?” Phoebe asked honestly.
“There are plenty to blame,” Geth answered. “But it’s way too late to punish any of them. Can’t you see Foo is falling?”
“The balance is off,” she agreed. “There are only four siids. And you’re the last of the lithens.”
Winter stood up to remind the two of them that she was still there.
“So, do you mind if I travel with you?” Phoebe asked.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Geth and Winter answered simultaneously.
“I mean, yes, we’d like that,” Winter corrected. “But don’t you have other people you need to push into love?”
Phoebe smiled—it was a nice smile, with no hint of guile. “I’m not Cupid. My effect will mellow now that I’m free. I’ve moved over Foo and done my part to bring a balance back to desire. But I don’t follow up with arrows or lessons in love.”
“Oh,” Winter said, clearly disappointed.
“I don’t mean to make things harder,” Phoebe said.
“Well, you’ve definitely made things more interesting,” Geth smiled.
Phoebe blinked slowly, and Winter cleared her throat again.
“So what are you doing?” Phoebe asked.
“We’re going to move into that horde of beings,” Geth pointed. “Then we’ll march down the gloam and onto Sycophant Run. We’ll slip though the exit and work our way to a place called Oklahoma.”
“How exciting,” Phoebe smiled.
“Many of the beings who are moving through now won’t live long in Reality,” Geth reminded them. “Echoes will eventually fade; rants will hard
en. We have less than three days. Of course . . .”
“Of course?” Winter asked.
“Well, eventually even the nits will die. If the exit has been opened, that means all dreams have ended. With the Dearth slipping out, not a single new dream will survive. Nits will forget their purpose and possibilities, and many will simply fall to the earth, never to get up again.”
“So it really is too late?” Winter asked.
“Not if Leven can pull off what he’s supposed to do.”
“We don’t even know where he is,” Winter said, frustrated.
“Fate will make things clear,” Geth said softly.
Winter put her head in her hands. “You’re so confusing.”
Phoebe patted Winter on the back.
“I might not know everything,” Geth said honestly, “but I believe in Leven. Besides, there’s a bit of me missing, and I know that piece is in Reality. I wouldn’t mind being my whole self again.”
“Don’t say that,” Phoebe cooed. “You’re perfect.”
Winter rolled her eyes. “Yeah, perfect.”
“We’ve never really been introduced,” Phoebe said to Winter.
“I’m sorry,” Geth said animatedly. “This is Winter. She’s a nit who came to Foo, then slipped through the gateway to bring Leven back.”
“Important and pretty,” Phoebe said.
“Thanks,” Winter said suspiciously. “So, we should get going.”
“First of all, Phoebe will need to cover up her wings,” Geth said.
Phoebe smiled, and her thin wings folded into her bare back and disappeared. Geth stared at her.
“You’re still going to be noticed,” he said. “We need robes to cover you two up. Wait here and I’ll be right back.”
“Where are—” Winter couldn’t get her question out fast enough. Geth had already jumped over the short stone wall and was running sideways through the trees and into the bushes.
Winter sat there on the wall and cleared her throat. The tree limbs above her lifted two feet. Phoebe just stared at her. Winter drummed her long fingers on the stone wall.
“Do I make you nervous?” Phoebe asked innocently.
“No,” Winter replied, her cheeks red. “Why would you say that?”
“That’s odd,” Phoebe said. “I didn’t take you for someone who doesn’t tell the truth.”
“What?” Winter asked defensively.
“I can tell that I make you nervous,” Phoebe said, confused. “But you said I didn’t.” Phoebe’s voice was so soothing and unaggressive that Winter couldn’t help but calm down.
“All right,” Winter admitted. “Maybe you make me just a little nervous.”
“I wonder why?” Phoebe asked, without sounding like she actually wanted an answer.
Winter bit the corner of her lip and tugged on the bandage Geth had put on her arm. “Really? Have you looked at yourself?”
“Many times,” Phoebe answered. “I’m quite pretty.”
“There’s an understatement,” Winter grumped.
“But you’re beautiful as well,” Phoebe said.
“It’s different,” Winter waved.
“So, do you love Geth?” Phoebe asked, sitting down next to Winter.
“Geth?” Winter laughed. “Why would you say that? He’s like my grandfather, or my father, or my brother.”
“But, being a lithen, he looks and acts as young as you,” Phoebe pointed out.
“I said, ‘or my brother,’” Winter pointed out. “Besides, can’t you tell when people are in love?”
Phoebe shook her head. “No more than you can. Of course, I’m aware of the effect that we longings have on others. So I usually assume that everyone I meet is either in love or wishing they were.”
“You must be popular at funerals.”
Phoebe just blinked.
“What about you?” Winter asked. “Do you love Geth?”
Phoebe nodded innocently.
“You do?” Winter questioned. “Really? You mean, like you love your brother?”
“The one brother I did have, I couldn’t stand,” Phoebe said. “I love Geth in a far different way.”
Winter just stared at her.
“Are you okay?” Phoebe asked.
“Are you always so honest?”
“I hope so,” Phoebe answered.
“So you love Geth?”
“Why do you think I came back?”
“I don’t know,” Winter answered, amazed. “Didn’t you just meet him a few days ago?”
Phoebe nodded.
“And you’ve said maybe ten words to him since then?” Winter questioned.
“We haven’t spoken much,” Phoebe admitted.
“But you love him?”
“Should I not?”
Winter laughed. “What if he has some weird habits?”
“Does he?” Phoebe asked innocently.
“He’s incredibly positive.”
“I hope that doesn’t change.”
“He has a tiny bit of him missing.”
“We all seem to have something we’re deficient in,” Phoebe said. “My right wing is torn at the bottom.”
Winter rubbed her forehead.
“So,” Phoebe asked, “if you don’t love Geth, then who do you love?”
“Do I have to love someone?” Winter argued.
“No,” Phoebe said, “but I can see a name on your lips.”
“Really?” Winter asked incredulously, putting her hand over her mouth. “A name on my lips?”
“It looks like the L sound,” Phoebe smiled. “Oh, of course, Leven.”
Winter’s mouth dropped open.
“I can see I was right,” Phoebe said, staring at Winter’s open mouth.
Winter closed her mouth.
“I’ve met him,” Phoebe said needlessly. “In fact, I believe he rescued me. And you love him? That’s wonderful.”
“I’m not . . . I can’t . . . really, you . . .”
“You don’t have to find the words to say to me,” Phoebe said nicely. “Silence is an acceptable answer.”
“No, it’s not,” Winter stormed. “You’re assuming a lot of things.”
“You don’t love him?”
Winter closed her green eyes and breathed in deeply. Behind her eyelids she could see some of the things that she and Leven had been through. She could see the boy who had mistakenly touched her and caused the shadows to find them, and she could see the man who had last pulled her up on the avaland only hours before.
“This time I can’t tell from the silence,” Phoebe said honestly. “Do you love him or not?”
“This isn’t the place,” Winter insisted.
“Where would you rather admit it?”
“I just . . .”
“You love him?”
“I guess I do,” Winter said, defeated.
“The word guess makes your answer confusing.” Phoebe bit her lip.
“Well, I know I miss him,” Winter said softly. “Is that good enough?”
Phoebe smiled. “Sometimes missing is stronger than love. So have you—”
Phoebe’s question was cut short. Geth burst through the bushes holding two robes and smiling as if he had just cured the world of all rashes.
Winter had never been so glad to see him. She jumped up and grabbed one of the robes. It was big, but not as huge as the one she had been forced to wear the day before. It was also red, and Winter was happy to be wearing a bit of color.
“Sorry to take so long,” Geth said as Phoebe slipped on her robe.
“No problem. It gave us a chance to talk,” Phoebe replied.
“What’d you talk about?” Geth questioned casually.
Winter looked at Phoebe and shook her head lightly.
“Nothing,” Phoebe answered smoothly.
“How informative,” Geth said. “Well, we might want to get going. The two rants I borrowed those robes from should gain consciousness soon.”
“Nice,”
Winter smiled.
Winter then headed in the direction of the soldiers, followed by Phoebe and Geth but thinking about Leven.
Chapter Seventeen
Sizing Up the Competition
Anticipation is a fascinating thing. There’s nothing like the anticipation you experience the morning before Christmas or your birthday. Of course, there can be great disappointment following that anticipation, like when on that same birthday you get a flamethrower that doesn’t even work right.
Sad.
People anticipate all sorts of things—elections, movies, romance, sports—but never, in the history of mankind, has there been the kind of anticipation the entire world felt as Blue Hole Lake drained and word spread that something was now climbing up out of it.
It was a very pregnant pause. You might not remember it, but even you put down what you were doing and stared in anticipation at the TV, wondering what was coming next.
I chewed off most of my fingernails.
The scene in New Mexico was awe inspiring. It looked as if the whole of humanity was spread out across the desert staring at a tiny empty lake. For a place filled with so many thousands of people, it was relatively calm. There were a few helicopters in the sky, but there were no birds singing or cars rolling down the interstate. The whole world had come to a halt, anxiously anticipating what was coming.
Everyone held their breath as the soft sound of scraping and shuffling rose from the bottom of the lake bed. At the cement steps on the lake’s edge, General Lank stood with ten of his best men. Leading out from the lake was a wide path lined with soldiers and tanks all pointed in the direction of the hole.
General Lank held his right hand up, signaling that something was coming.
A small head covered in a dark brown felt hat rose up.
“Hello,” the Dearth yelled cheerfully, using his British accent. “You there, soldier, how about a hand down here?”
A dozen soldiers began sliding down into the empty lake. Climbing the sides of the lake wasn’t too difficult, due to a natural slope. The Dearth was helped by two strong soldiers who kept calling him sir and asking if he was comfortable.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for people being comfortable. And if they happen to be elderly, then all the better. But I don’t think that in the history of mankind there was a time when we were more gentle or accommodating while ushering evil into our midst. Never had we so willingly put forth our hand and pulled vile into our lives.