Leven Thumps: The Complete Series

by Obert Skye

  “What of Leven?” Winter jumped in.

  Azure tugged on the sleeves of his robe and breathed in slowly.

  “Plans change,” he said coolly. “It seems as if perhaps fate was working with us when the Want sent you off. You might have been impossible to persuade.”

  “Impossible is not a word,” Geth said.

  “How wrong you are,” Azure replied. “Of course, once Foo and Reality are one, impossible truly won’t be a word. See how it works, Geth? We will offer what we have to everyone, and in turn we will have more power and possibility than we ever dreamed of.”

  “Don’t speak of dreams in your deception,” Geth commanded. “What you speak of will bring about the desolation of all dreams.”

  “Lithen rhetoric,” Knoll spat.

  “Fate will fight you at every turn,” Geth said. “And I will give my life before I allow you to carry this out.”

  “Interesting you should say that,” Azure sniffed, his ear dripping blood down his neck. “That brings us nicely to the business at hand. It seems as if you have a debt to repay.”

  “What are you talking about?” Geth questioned.

  “Your brother’s death occurred as a result of your carelessness.”

  “Zale’s death occurred at the hands of Sabine,” Geth insisted. “Had I not been in the form of a seed at the time, I might very well have prevented it.”

  “Still,” Knoll said. “It seems suspicious and touched with confusion.”

  “Antsel was there,” Geth argued.

  “But, sadly, he’s not here to help clear it up,” Azure pointed out. “You also abandoned your stone to hide in Reality.”

  “At the wish of the Want,” Geth said.

  “The Sochemists say differently.”

  “The Sochemists read the air,” Geth said with disgust. “They can’t clearly decipher the difference between a Lore Coil and a misdirected lob. The Want knows what happened.”

  “The Want is barking mad,” Knoll shot out. “He sees the plan as a warped vision that only he can bring to pass.”

  “My stone still stands,” Geth said harshly. “And Foo will be restored.”

  “Foo unravels as we speak,” Azure said. “The armies await our command.”

  “You can’t . . .” Winter tried to say.

  “Silence!” Azure snapped. “We’ve no need to hear from you. Geth left his brother to die, abandoned his stone and his world, and then bathed in the flames of the turrets without consent.”

  “There was consent given when I left,” Geth said, his blue eyes burning.

  “So many years ago,” Knoll said. “Things have changed.”

  “That’s perfectly clear,” Geth muttered in disgust.

  “Here’s what’s clear,” Azure said slowly. “You’re a traitor of Foo who’s had his hand in killing and in preventing Foo from becoming what it’s destined to become.”

  “Destiny,” Geth spat. “Here’s what’s clear. You have brought me to this room for no other reason than to taunt me with what has crumbled in my absence. It’s working. I feel a great sadness for the change you have helped bring about, but I feel an even greater peace knowing that in the end fate will have your heads.”

  “Not before it has yours,” Azure instructed. “It is the decision of the council that you must die.”

  “What council?” Geth asked. “I see no council. I see only two foolish beings who have traded all that is noble and worthwhile for the thin wish of having it all. Do what you want to me, but fate will run as strong and wide as it always has.”

  “Kind of you to give us permission,” Azure smiled wickedly.

  Azure knocked on the table twice. The door opened, and two large rants stepped in. They wore black robes and were currently sporting uneven left sides, which proved that dreams were still flowing into Foo. One of the rants stepped up to Geth and grabbed him by the right wrist. He snapped the talon out from the wall.

  “No, no,” Azure said coldly. “Dispose of the girl first.”

  “Don’t touch her!” Geth yelled.

  “Oh, my dear Geth,” Azure cooed. “You’ve such a high opinion of where your words are welcome.”

  Azure stood and walked over to Winter. He towered over her. Winter could see nothing but the insides of his nostrils and the dark band of blue his eyes created.

  “Maybe Geth’s right,” Azure said. “Why start with just her when we can begin with the both of them? We had planned a special ending for you here, but perhaps there is someplace more fitting. What do you say, Knoll? Instead of disposing of them here, let’s send them to Lith?”

  “Why would . . . oh,” Knoll said, wising up. “You have hit upon something. I believe a stay in Lith would provide a perfect ending.”

  “The soil will welcome their dead souls.”

  The second rant released Winter. He pulled her from the wall and hefted her up as easily as a fisherman might raise a large trout, holding her in the air and looking her over with his right eye. He lowered her and pulled both of her arms back behind her. He then bound her wrists tightly.

  “The Want will stop you,” Geth said, calm once again.

  “The Want will unwittingly kill you both,” Knoll laughed.

  “Take them away,” Azure insisted. “Keep their hands bound at all times and give them no length of rope or fate to make an escape with.”

  “Yes, my master,” the tallest rant said, bending to release Winter’s ankles.

  Without warning Azure spun toward the rant and swung his kilve, knocking the rant on the side of the head. Azure looked at the cowering rant, his own ear still bleeding steadily.

  “My is so singular,” Azure seethed.

  “Yes, our master,” the rant corrected.

  Geth’s countenance fell further.

  Someone peeking through the cracks of the large door might have guessed that Geth’s state of mind was due to the fact that Winter and he were about to face death. Or perhaps they might have thought it was because Geth had no idea where Leven was and Foo was falling apart around him. They might even have thought that it was because every council member aside from Azure and Knoll was now either dead or buried or quite possibly both. And it is possible that someone looking in might have thought that Geth’s state of mind was brought on because, in the fourteen or so years that he had been in Reality, no one had done a single thing to update the look of the council room. All those assumptions might have been understandable, but they would have been inaccurate. Geth’s countenance had fallen because he was sickened by the evil change of his one-time friend.

  The Azure that Geth had known all those years ago had been passionate and hotheaded, but dedicated to Antsel and willing to give his life for the preservation of dreams. The Azure that stood before Geth now was a traitor and a murderer, so self-absorbed and confused that he couldn’t see the catastrophic damage he was setting in motion.

  “The Want won’t have it,” Geth said calmly.

  “The Want won’t know!” Azure yelled. “We’ve already succeeded. We have the people’s hearts. We have the gifts, and soon the gloam will possess sufficient soil to reach the Thirteen Stones.”

  “Gloam?’’ Winter asked, not recalling anything about it.

  “The arm of soil that reaches out from below Cusp,” Azure said coldly. “It seeks to mesh with the soil of the stones. Once that happens, the Dearth will be freed and conquer Reality like a strong dream.”

  “It’s a lie,” Geth said. “The Dearth cannot be freed. His soul belongs to the soil and is sealed by the keys.”

  “Believe what you will,” Azure smiled. “Your thoughts are of no concern. The Dearth will rise, and destiny will be fulfilled.”

  “Leven will stop you,” Winter said bravely.

  “Leven?” Azure mocked. “He won’t stop us. In fact, he’ll be the key to make it all happen.”

  Geth stared at Azure with complete disgust.

  Two of the empty chairs walked off, angry at still not being sat on. Get
h’s chair had been vacant for so many years it could no longer take it. It ran toward the fireplace and threw itself into the ashes, rubbing its legs together to create a spark.

  A fire began to burn.

  Freed from the wall, but bound at the wrists and ankles, Winter and Geth were dragged from the room as the soot rats caught fire and screamed in painful stereo.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Den of the Dead

  The home of the Want made Leven tired and dizzy. There seemed to be no end to the amount of stairs there were to climb. And each time they entered a new room, the floor would shift and windows would open and close. Leven felt like he was in a dream where he knew he was somewhere, but it looked like someplace else. Regardless of how he felt, Leven kept following the Want, carefully stepping where he stepped.

  Clover had disappeared and was staying silent.

  Leven wanted to take a break and rest, but the Want moved with such purpose and speed that Leven felt compelled to keep up and keep quiet.

  They moved into a large hall with ornate walls and an intricately carved ceiling. Painted on the ceiling were hundreds of trees. Three of the walls bore raised portraits of two siids; on the fourth wall there was just a single siid. The Want waved his hands over his head and the siid portraits recessed and became wide windows showing distant parts of Foo. The Want pointed at the windows and the glass became orange, burning like a sheet of fire and warming the room.

  “What is this place?” Leven shouted, the Want still twenty feet in front of him.

  “Just a room,” the Want answered.

  Leven’s eyes burned gold. There was something the Want wasn’t telling him.

  “Keep your secrets,” Leven said boldly. “But I’m not going any farther.”

  Leven stopped.

  His heart had been beating differently ever since he had stepped into the home of the Want. His fingers felt jittery and in need of something to grab onto. Leven couldn’t quite get his gift to work, though his feelings and perceptions were heightened. Clover’s silence hadn’t helped the situation. Leven’s thoughts seemed much more clear and worthwhile when he had Clover to bounce them off of.

  “There’s something about this room,” Leven said, looking around. “There’s something here.”

  The Want spun around and pointed at Leven. His arm trembled as his countenance glowed bright. Leven still couldn’t see the Want’s eyes, only his red beard.

  Leven felt even stronger.

  “There’s no time!” the Want repeated. “You grew too slowly. The wick is lit. Fate has taken the fire from Geth, and in doing so has put us behind. The opposition has time. When the last piece is placed, this picture will look wanting if you have not beaten their strongest opponent.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The Want moved closer to Leven. Leven could see a haze coming from beneath the Want’s hood.

  “I look at you and see failure,” the Want shook, his glassy breath burning Leven’s eyes. “I see the end of Foo and the destruction of all dreams. Now, follow me.”

  “See what you want,” Leven declared. “I don’t know anything about this place where I now live. I meet creatures and beings my imagination previously couldn’t have thought up. I have followed Geth and fate as best I could. Now I’m here, and you talk like every second is a second closer to doom. I might not understand everything, but I know that there’s hope. I can feel your words trying to distract me from the fact that there is something here in this room.”

  The Want smiled. It didn’t comfort Leven.

  “Is your sycophant here?” the Want asked.

  “I assume so,” Leven answered.

  “Show yourself,” the Want commanded.

  Clover materialized, sitting on the very top of Leven’s head.

  “You once burned for Antsel,” the Want said coolly, strings of dreams twisting around him. “He was a valiant being.”

  Clover shivered. Normally he loved any talk or mention of his first burn, but the way the Want was pushing words through his lips made him uneasy. The Want shook his fists in the air and turned to scream at nothing, his open rage and hidden eyes making him hard to look at. “I can hear you!”

  Leven stepped back as the Want settled and then returned his attention to him.

  “The dreams never end,” the Want explained. “Even in sleep I see every wish set free in Reality.”

  “How’s that possible?” Leven asked.

  “Such an uneducated question,” the Want sniveled. “How’s that possible? I suppose that unless something fits in your current understanding, it’s impossible?”

  “Of course not,” Leven answered, pushing out his chest and willing his eyes to burn. “I’ve accepted tons of things I didn’t believe weeks ago.”

  “Accepted?” the Want said sadly.

  “What’s in here?” Leven asked, a feeling of sadness now enveloping him.

  The Want waved his right hand and the light in the room shifted so that it now glowed from the floor instead of the ceiling. The new direction of the light completely changed the murals on the wall. Instead of seven siids, there were now Thirteen Stones and a ceiling of mist and water overhead.

  “In here,” the Want motioned. “Of course, our pattern will be altered.”

  The Want pushed through a round door and disappeared. Leven stepped through the door into a round room lined with a stone bench. In the center of the room, a large roven pelt lay on the floor next to a round rock basin.

  The door closed behind Leven like an eyelid, cutting off all light. There was a popping noise, and a small fist of blue flame shot up out of the rock basin. It lit the room like a night-light, sending strings of white smoke up into the ceiling. The smoke circled the round room and created intricate patterns in the air.

  “Sit,” the Want said.

  Leven moved back and sat down on the stone bench against the round wall. He watched the flame, entranced by the motion of it.

  “Do you dream, Leven?”

  “I would think you would know the answer to that,” Leven replied smartly.

  “Wise,” the Want sighed. “I have seen all your dreams. I have watched them change. As a child you dreamed of love—of being safe and strong. As you grew older, your dreams became much less impressive, so wrapped up in fears and worry. You dreamed more about fading away than about stepping forward.”

  “They’re just dreams,” Leven said. “I knew nothing about Foo.”

  “True,” the Want said. “But there were some of us who knew of you.”

  “Why?” Leven asked.

  “Speak of the dead,” the Want instructed. “Talk of those who have passed.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What do you know of Antsel?”

  Even though the room was warm, as the Want spoke his breath became frosty. It looked like he was breathing outside on a cold day. Bits of his breath drifted up into the smoke above.

  “I know Clover loved him,” Leven answered, watching his own breath do the same thing. “He was important, and when I hear people say his name, they always do so with respect.”

  Leven’s breath lifted into the smoke, but this time tiny bits of it began to drift back down and settle on the stone bench beside him.

  Leven felt content but curious. “Should our breath be doing this?” he asked, scooting over just a bit.

  “Antsel wasn’t a lithen,” the Want said, ignoring Leven’s question, “yet he sat on the Council of Wonder. He sacrificed everything for the sake of Foo, even down to his life. He wasn’t assigned to take Geth to Reality. But when Geth’s brother Zale died, Antsel stepped forward and without hesitation did as I asked.”

  The Want’s breath was filling the room, lifting to the ceiling and then drifting down to settle by Leven.

  “I did not want him to go,” the Want continued. “To me he was what was right with Foo. He saw the act of enhancing dreams as a sacred calling. He felt that Foo could change the course of ev
erything by bettering the dreams of mankind.”

  “And he had a beard,” Clover spoke up.

  “And he had a beard,” the Want smiled. “When he and Geth left, so much changed. Sabine and his shadows seemed to have free reign and influence on too many. And as fate worked its course, all we could do was wait for you to grow up and come to Foo.”

  “I can’t understand why,” Leven admitted.

  “You will know shortly,” the Want said. “Antsel’s death will not be in vain.”

  Leven looked down at the bits of smoky breath that were settling next to him. For the first time he could see some definition—two legs and a waist sitting there. They weren’t physical, but they were outlined in glowing sparks of breath and smoke. Leven could see boots on the feet and a leather belt wrapped around the torso that was growing taller as more smoke settled.

  “I’ll say more,” the Want sighed. “Antsel cared for you, Leven. He never had a chance to even know you, but he cared for you. He insisted that there be someone to watch over you as you grew up, and he gave up his sycophant for your benefit.”

  Clover materialized so that Leven could pet him. The Want glared at Clover, and he disappeared.

  “He also was vital in placing Winter in Reality to help get you here. He and Amelia were crucial to creating the future you now move toward. Your mother’s death was a tragic addition to the puzzle.”

  As the Want spoke, small bits of breath began to pile up beside the body that was almost fully formed. The body right next to Leven now had everything but a head.

  “Your mother,” the Want lamented. “Had she lived, things might have gone better for you. As it stands, however, it was wise of Antsel and Amelia to be so concerned with the upbringing Winter and you would experience. Sometimes lithens and their perfect faith in fate can be a little callous. The council knew you would make it back. It was fate.

  “It wasn’t until Geth was cursed and they saw the purpose of him being hidden from Sabine that they began to consider placing Winter and others to help you. I didn’t care; I just wanted you back when the time was right. Antsel, it seems, was wise in his persistence, because here you sit.”

  Leven was too busy watching what was happening right next to him to pay full attention to the Want. The drifting pieces of smoke and breath had formed a complete man. He looked to be made of flickering dust mites, but he was as visible as a beam of light streaking though a dark room. Despite the delicate façade, Leven could see every detail and physical trait.