Leven Thumps: The Complete Series

by Obert Skye

  He let his thoughts manipulate the future.

  As he opened his eyes the clouds broke, exposing a bit of the bright moon planted in the bruised sky. The moon flexed like a hand, sending fingers of light out toward the ground.

  “That’s better,” Leven said.

  The moonlight illuminated the white in his hair and gave Clover definition. Leven moved farther along the wall, keeping to the shadow of the cottage.

  “I can see someone,” Clover whispered into Leven’s ear. “Farther back.”

  Leven’s heart raced as he struggled to slow his breathing. He closed his eyes again and put his hand to his forehead. He opened his eyelids, exposing his brown eyes and seeing nothing but the present.

  Behind the far corner, a dark form shifted and spoke. The form belonged to a tall being in a black robe. Under the weak moonlight the being’s robe shimmered, as if there were a low current of electricity running up and around it. Leven pushed himself back farther against the cottage.

  “You’re sure?” the shadowy form asked someone.

  “Of course,” a second voice replied. “You have my guarantee.”

  The second voice laughed and then burped.

  Leven’s soul folded inside himself. Had the stone wall not been directly behind him, he would have collapsed. There, only a few feet away, was the ratty secret. Leven shifted his head to get a better look. The secret was clinging to the side of a thick fantrum tree with one hand. Its tattered body fluttered in the wind. It was white as a ghost, and its black eyes gave off a reflective shine under the spotty moon.

  “The secret will be all mine,” the man hissed. “You have told no one?”

  “I have told no one,” the secret insisted.

  “If I find you’ve lied, you will spend eternity buried so deep that no one will ever find you again.”

  The secret burped. “That’s funny—the person who first buried me thought she was doing just that.”

  “She didn’t possess all the abilities or the hard heart I have,” the man said. “You know very well I can keep my word.”

  “Word,” the secret burped, the air smelling like freshly tilled soil.

  “Then the secret’s mine?”

  “Of course,” the secret whispered, extending its free hand with anticipation. “I’ll take the tokens, and you will have bought my memory as well.”

  The dark being lifted his left arm and reached into his robe with his right. The electric currents running through the fabric of his robe began to swirl faster. He pulled something out, hefted it in his palm, and then handed the object to the secret.

  The secret looked down at what it had been given and laughed. It shook the object, producing a crunching sound like stones rubbing together.

  “Place them wisely around Foo and you will become whole,” the dark being hissed.

  The secret laughed harder.

  The laughing continued for a few moments before the man spoke up.

  “Now, I believe you owe me something.”

  The secret stopped laughing. Its black eyes grew wide, and it began to cry softly.

  “Come now,” the dark man said. “The pain will be fleeting. Besides, the deal has been struck.”

  The dark form thrust his right hand out and into the ghostlike chest of the secret. The secret’s chest burst like chalk-laden erasers being beat together violently.

  It arched its back, screaming in pain.

  The man twisted his right hand around inside the chest of the secret as if searching for a heart. The secret moved in each direction the man’s hand shifted. Then, as quickly as he had thrust his hand in, the dark form jerked his hand back, pulling a twisted and hairy lump from the secret’s chest.

  It was no heart.

  The lump throbbed and choked as if thirsty for air. The secret dropped to its knees, its chest slowly closing up. The secret dug at the dirt, wailing and sobbing.

  “Cover yourself with soil,” the man said. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes.”

  He held up the hairy lump, gazing at it triumphantly. “The secret of the sycophants,” he hissed. “What a dangerous possession.”

  “That’s the secret?” Leven whispered to Clover in disgust.

  “I guess so,” Clover whispered back, equally grossed out.

  The heart of the secret wriggled like a huge, rotten, hairy prune.

  “It certainly isn’t pretty,” Leven winced.

  “I’m not sure how to feel,” Clover answered uneasily. “I’m a little embarrassed—”

  Clover’s thoughts were interrupted by the movement of the man. He turned his left palm face up, and a small flame shot to life in his hand. He then set the hairy lump onto the fire.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Clover whispered.

  The fire consumed the heart in a matter of moments and then put itself out. The shadowy form dusted his palms while stepping toward the secret.

  “Get up,” he said to the secret. “I believe you still owe me a key.”

  Clover sniffed. “Boy, he’s sadly mistaken. You have the key.”

  Leven didn’t need to say anything—as he was searching for the words to explain his earlier actions, the secret stood up, produced the key, and handed it to the dark man.

  Clover’s mouth gaped wide enough to shove a melon into it. “How does he have—”

  Leven held a finger to his own lips.

  “Now I have everything,” the dark form hissed. “And in a moment you will have no recollection of what you once knew. Of course, I don’t want to take any chances.”

  The dark form raised his right hand and then lowered it, his palm facing the soil. He moved his hand in a small circle, and electricity shot out of his palm and down into the dirt.

  The soil bubbled and churned.

  The secret was still choking and struggling for air, but the sight of boiling soil seemed to shock it back into its senses. Its eyes widened, and it rolled over and tried to stand. The dark being reached out with his left hand and snatched the secret by the neck. The poor thing writhed and sputtered like a weak engine. The

  dark-robed figure held the secret over the bubbling dirt as he continued to manipulate the soil with his right hand.

  “No,” the secret tried to scream. “Please.”

  “It’ll be just like going home,” the dark form said.

  “You promised.”

  “Then I suppose we’ve both broken our word tonight,” the dark form hissed. “Secrets never lie? You are as shifty as you are vapid.”

  The dark being shoved the secret into the boiling soil. Instantly the ground took hold of the secret’s legs and began to suck it in. The black-robed man released the secret and stepped back, his right hand still sending electricity into the dirt.

  “Please!” the secret screamed.

  “What a pathetic way to go,” the dark being said. “Have you no honor?”

  “None,” the secret hollered. “Free me!”

  The soil dragged the secret deeper into the earth. In a few seconds the secret was nothing but a tattered head screaming for mercy. Two seconds later the dirt closed in over it and boiled ferociously.

  “You’d better get Geth and Winter,” Leven whispered to Clover.

  Clover darted off as the dark form closed his right hand and cut off the current of electricity to the soil. The ground bubbled for a few moments more and then hardened with an audible “snap.”

  The tall, shadowy man leaned down and pushed a circular stone into the soil. He waved his hand over the stone, and it settled even more. The dark form took the key, stuck it into the stone, and turned it twice in a clockwise direction. He removed the key, and the stone sank completely beneath the soil.

  Leven looked around, wishing Geth would hurry. The dark being began to step off into the trees. Leven jumped from his hidden vantage point and raced toward the man. He barreled into the dark being. They hit the ground hard. The key flew from the man’s shadowy hand and landed in the dirt.

 
; Leven twisted on the ground, struggling to hold the man down while turning to reach for the key. It was an almost impossible task, as the man seemed to be more like a shadow than a human.

  The dark being vanished.

  Leven turned to look at his empty arms where the man had just been.

  There was nothing.

  Leven looked toward the key, and there was the dark form again. The man stuck his hand out and reached for the key. He grabbed it and lifted it. Leven sprang up and got his arms around the man once again. Once again the shadowy being disappeared in a dark puff of smoke, only to reappear five feet away.

  “Stop!” Leven commanded.

  The man paid him no mind, running into the trees like a slow-motion electrical current.

  “Don’t let him get away!” Winter yelled from behind.

  Leven turned to see Winter running from the tavern and toward him as fast as she could. Clover had retrieved her, but she was too late. Leven opened his mouth to explain what had happened, but Winter didn’t stop to listen. She shot past him, aiming for the shadowy form. Leven tore off after them.

  “He’s too fast!” Leven yelled out as he ran.

  “Geth’s coming,” Winter screamed back.

  As if on cue, the sound of hooves rumbled from around the side of the tavern. Geth was storming toward them, riding his onick and leading the two other beasts to Leven and Winter. In an instant he was there and Leven was climbing onto his moving onick. Winter jumped on hers and clicked her teeth. The onick beneath her shot off in the direction the dark form had gone.

  “What happened?” Geth yelled while they galloped.

  “The secret sold itself,” Leven hollered.

  “To whom?”

  “I have no idea,” Leven admitted. “But I don’t think he is planning to use the information for good.”

  “Did the secret give up its core?”

  “It gave up something ugly. It was then forced into the soil.”

  “By the same man?” Geth yelled again.

  “Yes.”

  Leven, his soul sticky with guilt, couldn’t look Geth in the eye. He kicked his onick and the beast moved even faster, racing after the dark form. In the distance a small glimmer of moonlight sparkled off the current in the man’s back as he darted off the path and into the trees.

  Leven closed his eyes.

  Once again he could see the night and the wind. His eyes burned gold and the wind moved in, pushing down through the trees like a thick, heavy river of sound. The trees parted, bending just enough to create a straight path through the forest. Leven’s onick jumped with excitement and purpose.

  Geth raced ahead, with Winter pulling in behind him. Leven took the rear, shouting at his onick to run faster. Clover was clinging to Leven’s neck, screaming, “Maybe I should have waited to come back!”

  “And miss all the fun?” Winter yelled as her onick strode neck and neck with Leven’s.

  The black robe zipped across the path and over into a stretch of the tallest trees. Geth, Winter, and Leven followed suit. The man leapt and took hold of a high branch. He flung himself farther up and away. Geth’s onick tried to open its wings, but the trees were too close together. Without pause Geth jumped from his ride, bounding up into the trees and leaping from branch to branch after the dark being. Winter maneuvered her onick beneath the man and Geth while Leven raced in from behind.

  The dark-robed man jumped from the top of a tree, trying to get a grip on a distant branch. He missed, slipped, and fell twenty feet into a snarl of high, dead branches. Geth jumped to where he was tangled and tried to grab hold of him. As Geth fell into the branches, they shattered into a thousand pieces.

  Geth plummeted like a putty-filled sack tossed from a ten-story building.

  He hit the ground directly in front of Winter’s onick. The startled beast pulled up, bucked, and threw Winter into the trees. She sliced through the branches, coming to a stop about twenty feet up.

  Clover materialized, clinging to the front of Leven’s face. “Shouldn’t we help them?” he shouted.

  “We have to stop that man!” Leven kicked his ride and shot through the trees. A faint trace of the fleeing figure could be seen in the far distance.

  Leven rode as fast as he could, his onick’s hooves thundering like stone against the hard soil.

  Leven watched the shadowy form leave the shelter of the trees and run out over the surface of Cherry Lake. The dark being sped across the lake like a black swan, running on the water as easily as if it had been soil.

  “Our turn,” Leven shouted, kicking his ride.

  The onick beneath him broke from the tree line and shot out over the water with open wings. The beast skimmed the surface of the lake beautifully. It moved forward like a corkscrew, turning upside down and right side up.

  In the patchy moonlight, Leven could see his reflection in the red-tinted water.

  There was someone who looked a bit like him riding a winged creature—a creature he would have been unable to dream up in his life in Reality. In the reflection Leven could see Clover crawl down the front leg of the beast and hang from its foot. Clover dangled his fingers in the speeding water as if this were all a game, then dropped down and let the water pull him backwards. He flipped once, bounced off the satin surface, and grabbed hold of the onick’s left back foot. Clover disappeared and in an instant was sitting on Leven’s right shoulder.

  Leven ducked his head as his mighty onick closed in on the shadowy man. The dark form glanced back and leapt forward with renewed force across the water.

  Leven’s onick began to whine. The poor creature had traveled for many days, and it now lacked the strength it needed to continue the race across the lake. The gap grew as the man sped farther away.

  “We can’t let him escape,” Leven yelled.

  They were in the center of the lake, the far shore barely visible under the spotty moonlight. Leven’s heart was sinking as his onick screamed in tired protest.

  “Please,” Leven begged. “You have to fly!”

  The onick bucked and shivered violently. Its wings raised and lowered, slapping the water and then folding back into its body.

  Leven’s ride came to a whimpering stop and began to lower down against the water, slowly sinking in. Leven kicked, hoping to draw some passion from the beast.

  From beneath Leven the water of the lake began to bubble and swirl. Liquid expanded above the lake in spots like thick, wet whales. Leven watched great streaks of green light under the water race up from behind him. The light thickened and thundered past like a controlled explosion. Leven’s onick began to shake and scream in confusion. It seemed as if the lake itself was coming to life.

  In front of them the dark form was still moving, but he was soon surrounded by towering waves of water that screamed alongside him and washed over and into him like mountains of wet weight. The black-robed being was soon swept out of sight.

  Under the moonlight Leven could see thin, drawn-out faces in the froth of the water’s crests. Their eyes looked past Leven and toward the man who had purchased the secret. The faces were framed and covered with strings of knotted green water.

  “The Waves of the Lime Sea,” Clover whispered in awe. “Here?”

  The water boiled and rolled into fat knobs. The knobs rose and dropped against the surface like fantastic bombs, sending shards of speeding liquid toward the shadowy man. The sharp bits of water sliced through the being like gunfire.

  Fantastic columns of water shot hundreds of feet into the air. The tallest columns punched through the fat bellies of the low-hanging hazen. The hazen burst into thick, cloudy streaks that shot off like cotton fireworks, exposing the full light of all Foo’s moons.

  Foo burst into wide view.

  Leven’s onick thrashed in panic as it bobbed up and down on the surface of the lake. The water was cold, but the movement of the Waves sent long tracers of warmth beneath the surface. Leven clung to the hair on the back of his onick’s neck.


  The onick whined in fear.

  The Waves grew thicker. Leven could see their shape clearly now. They were massive and ghostly, like pale mountain peaks that held deep pockets of gray snow. He could see though their sheer, wet, muscular bodies. Their faces were long and exaggerated, with white foam beards and whirlpool mouths. They pushed up into whalelike mounds of water and raced toward the dark form.

  The Waves pounded the dark man like meat, slamming up against him from every angle and height. The dark form gave up, his limp body smacking down against the churning water. The Waves swirled and spread out into an organized pattern. The tallest Wave collected the body of the man, pushing it high into the air. The other Waves gathered around it and lifted themselves from the water and up toward the sky.

  Light flashed across the water back toward Leven.

  The water rocked and swirled. The lake began to drop, the entire body of water lowering as the massive waves pushed upward into the night sky, rocketing the limp body of the man thousands of feet into the air.

  Peaks of wet, black rock began to appear all around as the whole lake seemed to be climbing up. Leven could no longer see the top of the Waves or any sign of the dark being. The lake was rushing out from under him, thundering like a runaway train speeding toward the smallest moon.

  Clover appeared, clinging to Leven’s right arm. His expression was one of either high fear or confused fun. “Is this sinking a bad or good thing?” Clover screamed.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Leven yelled. “Lakes have bottoms here, don’t they?”

  “Everything has a bottom,” Clover replied, slightly embarrassed.

  Leven’s stomach felt like it was trying to push itself out of his eyes. The onick had had enough. It passed out and began to roll over as they descended, water whipping out from beneath them. Leven frantically climbed over the onick, wrestling with its limp body and trying to keep the beast under him.

  A fat fish slapped Leven in the face. The water was pushing upward so rapidly that most of the objects or creatures that called the lake home were having the watery rug ripped right out from under them, leaving them momentarily hanging in the air before they dropped down.