by Obert Skye
She pulled at her wrists, small strings of her own blood drifting up off of them. The mast they were tied to held fast, giving them no hope of breaking free.
Winter closed her eyes and calculated how many more seconds she would be likely to live.
Unfortunately, it was easy math.
ii
The home of the Want left Leven wishing for something solid and immovable. It was a fantastic place, but the shifting and changing was enough to make his stomach uneasy. He had felt even sicker ever since he had seen a glimpse of what might have been his mother. Leven felt angry at the Want for not allowing him a chance to see her more.
“He could have relit the flame,” Leven complained to Clover. “Just for a moment.”
“Maybe he couldn’t,” Clover answered, still invisible and speaking as quietly as possible. “There’s an order to things.”
The room they were in twisted a complete half-turn, repositioning the direction they had come from to be back in front of him. The Want disappeared down the hall they had just exited.
“Order?” Leven said sarcastically, following after the Want.
The hallway floor was covered with thick green carpet that swirled in patterns. There were murals of ocean scenes on the walls. As Leven walked, the painted fish swam along with him. The fish gurgled and sprayed water at him occasionally, jumping from wall to wall.
“Are we going up or down?” Clover asked.
“I have no idea,” Leven said, wiping some water from his eyes.
“Do your legs hurt?”
“Yes, but they would hurt either direction.”
“Hurry!” the Want hollered back. “Step correctly—and if you knew the urgency, you’d run.”
“Okay,” Leven answered, a fish slapping his arm with its tail.
The Want stopped. “What did you say?” he asked angrily.
“I said—”
The Want fell to his knees as the light around him seemed to puff up and expand. The white ropes of light thickened and spun around him. The Want yelled at the ceiling, and for a brief second Leven could see his eyes.
Instinctively Leven turned away. It was as if he were seeing something that wasn’t his privilege to look upon. But, in the case of the Want’s eyes, it was also like viewing something so uncomfortable that you were repulsed but drawn to it. Before he looked away, Leven had seen the Want’s eyes glowing green. They were withered like raisins and hanging loosely in their sockets. Leven couldn’t tell if what he had seen was real, but he wasn’t at all anxious to get a better look.
The Want knelt on the floor with his arms up. Strands of thick light wrapped around him like white serpents—snapping and snarling. Images flowed within the light, pictures washing down the snakes’ bellies.
“What’s happening?” Clover asked.
“I’m not sure,” Leven said. “But it doesn’t look good.”
As quickly as it had begun, it ended. The Want stood, tugged on his hood, and turned to walk off as if everything was fine.
“Are you all right?” Leven asked, concerned.
The Want stopped, and his shoulders lowered. “There are many dreams,” he answered. “But they are finally changing.”
“Is that good?”
The Want’s shoulders raised back up and he left the question unanswered.
“We are almost there,” he said. “Come.”
Leven followed him into a large room lined with windows from the ceiling to floor. The room was square and looked like a giant greenhouse with ivy covering the entire outside like a leafy web. Outside the windows were hundreds of people and creatures. Some licked the windows, while others looked to the sky. A few people were hovering a couple of feet off the ground; others were digging at the dirt. All of them seemed to be frantically looking for something. Their moaning and digging could be heard through the ivy-covered glass.
“Who are they?” Leven asked.
“Pay them no mind,” the Want insisted.
“Yeah, sure,” Leven muttered, looking at the glass walls on every side. In the center of the room, a large wooden door opened up into an enclosed atrium. Leven could see through the windows that the atrium went up hundreds and hundreds of feet. At the top of it Leven could see the faint outline of a small room. It looked to be a mile in the air.
“Please say we’re not going up there,” Leven pointed.
“We’re not,” Clover answered.
Leven looked in the direction of Clover’s voice. “I was asking the Want.”
“Sorry, I was just trying to make you feel better.”
The Want opened the door and made his way in. Leven reluctantly followed as people outside the glass room screamed and pounded on the glass trying to get the Want’s attention.
Once they were inside the atrium the door shut behind them, blocking out any noise. Two torches sprang to life. There was nothing in the room beside the two pockets of torch light.
“I don’t see any stairs,” Leven said hopefully.
“No stairs,” the Want said, disappearing.
Leven looked around, confused. “Where’d he go?”
“I could pretend like I know the answer again,” Clover said.
Leven moved to the door and it opened back up. He stepped back and it shut again.
“As least we’re not trapped,” Leven said.
Leven took a torch from the wall and walked along the edge of the room looking for some other door the Want might have gone through.
There was nothing.
The walls were all wood and went up much higher than the torches’ light could reach. Leven set the torch back into the leather holder just as the Want reappeared. Leven jumped back.
“Come on,” the Want said impatiently, his eyes still covered.
“Where?” Leven asked, bewildered.
“This is a shaft of unfinished thoughts,” the Want explained impatiently. “Finish the thought and it will take you where you wish.”
“Anywhere?” Leven said, thinking of Reality.
“Anywhere in the home,” the Want said as if Leven were daft.
“Where do we want to go?”
“To the top.”
The Want disappeared.
“Wow,” Clover whispered in awe.
“All right,” Leven said. “So I guess I just think about being up top and . . .”
The moment Leven thought it, it happened.
Instantly he was standing at the top of the shaft under the arch of a large doorway. The doorway opened into the small room that he had seen from down below. The room was much larger than it had looked from the ground. It was circular, with windows on all sides and a round, cone-shaped ceiling overhead. There was a fire burning in a wide, circular pit in the middle. The room was filled with soft chairs and thick rugs, all dimly lit and serenaded by the soft glow and song of the fire.
The Want was sitting in a tall chair with thick black arms. Leven would have taken the time to compliment him on his digs, but the room was overshadowed by the remarkable view.
Leven turned around, his mouth gaping.
To the left he could see a towering wall of mist, and below that was the Veil Sea. In the far distance he could see three of the other twelve stones. Everywhere he looked there were thick clusters and lines of mist. A fat pink sun moved sideways across the view, blocking Leven’s line of sight from the other suns. Pink sunbeams danced against the Veil Sea like searchlights looking for delinquent fish. Leven could see light from the other suns doing the same thing with different colors. When the beams would hit each other, the light would form huge rainbows filled with colors Leven had never seen before.
“It’s beautiful,” Leven whispered.
“Unless you are responsible for it all,” the Want said sadly. “To me it is simply a reminder of how I have failed.”
“You haven’t failed,” Leven said.
“I can hear Geth in your voice,” the Want said. “His thoughts are now your words.”
“I
can’t think of anyone I’d rather be like,” Leven said honestly.
Clover, still invisible, softly cleared his throat.
“Sit,” the Want said. “We haven’t much time, but there are words you must hear, and this room is safe to speak in—so high above the soil. Sit.”
Leven sat in a large black chair with gold cushions and arms.
“Drink something,” the Want insisted. “There will be so little time for you to eat.”
The Want waved his hand and a small being stepped out from behind his chair. Leven recognized the being as a Sympathetic Twill, one of the kind creatures who had helped Clover save him in the Swollen Forest.
“Eegish,” the Want said, “finish his thoughts.”
Eegish moved toward Leven and stopped just in front of his chair. He reached out and patted Leven on the right knee. Leven patted him back on the top of his head. He stared at the little creature, who was smiling sincerely at him.
“Well, what are you thirsty for?” the Want said impatiently.
“Anything, I guess,” Leven answered. “Water?”
“You can have anything you like and you wish for water?” the Want scolded.
“I wouldn’t mind some of that chocolate stuff,” Leven said, looking at the Sympathetic Twill. “When I was trapped in the forest, some beings just like you gave me some kind of chocolate drink.”
Eegish looked at Leven like he had just gotten straight A’s during a difficult semester. He moved to the arched doorway that led to the shaft of unfinished thoughts.
Eegish walked in, and two seconds later he walked back out with a steaming mug. He handed it to Leven and patted his knee again.
“Thanks,” Leven said.
“If you should need something else, just say so,” the Want instructed. “Eegish will step in and finish your thought.”
Leven was too busy drinking the chocolate drink to respond. The Want drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and shook. He shifted to the front of his seat and spoke.
“Look around, Leven. What do you see?”
Leven set his mug of chocolate down and glanced carefully around the room, stopping to take in each view.
“Unbelievable beauty,” Leven finally answered, his gold eyes flickering.
“How nice it would be to have your eyes,” the Want said sadly. “You see so many things I feel have vanished.”
“I see what everyone else does,” Leven pointed out.
“I don’t think so,” the Want said. “You see beauty where others see possession or power.”
“I see those things too,” Leven said. “But I don’t want anything to do with them.”
“You say that now.”
“I can barely handle the gift I have now,” Leven admitted.
“Yes,” the Want spoke. “Tell me what you have been gifted.”
“I can’t work any of it too well,” Leven apologized. “But when it does work, I can see the future and move things around in it to change the outcome.”
“Move things?”
“Like wind, or even people,” Leven said. “In Reality I made a woman give me money for food. I also made the wind blow.”
“Was there a need for those things to happen?”
“I suppose so,” Leven said.
“You stopped Sabine.”
“The gift took over.”
Eegish stepped up to Leven with a plateful of roasted lamb and thick brown bread covered in pale melted butter. Two fat apples sat on the edge of the plate. The smell of the food was intoxicating.
“You must have been thinking about food,” the Want explained. “What about Jamoon? How is it that you were able to work your gift in a room where that was forbidden?”
“I’m not sure,” Leven said, reaching for the roasted lamb.
“And your eyes burn permanently now.”
“Ever since I struggled with Jamoon on the road to Morfit,” Leven chewed. “There seems to always be a thin line of gold around them.”
“Interesting. And what do you know of your part?”
“Very little,” Leven admitted, biting into a gigantic apple.
“Good,” the Want said. “It’s time to fill you in. Do you trust me?”
Leven thought about lying, but ended up answering honestly, “No.”
“It’s understandable.”
The Want stood up and moved to a small box near the center of the room. He opened the box and pulled out a key.
Leven’s eyes widened.
“Is that . . . ?”
“It is,” the Want said. “Sabine wasn’t the only one who had the ability to use his own shadow. Of course, Sabine’s shadows sought to flee him. Mine is simply always up for adventure. It has grown tired of me never leaving Lith. It was my shadow you struggled with outside of the tavern.”
A dark-robed shadow moved out from behind the fire and looked at Leven.
“You?”
The shadow moved toward the Want and settled in behind him where a shadow belonged.
“I couldn’t let you just give the key to the secret,” the Want said. “What a dangerous move.”
“He was going to hurt Clover.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not unheard of for those we love to get hurt when we are trusting fate,” the Want said. “There are worse things than Clover being killed.”
Leven couldn’t think of any.
“How did you know about the key?” Leven said, his mouth open because of the shock and because he was trying to fit a large bite of bread in.
“I am the Want. All of Foo flows through me. The second I felt you give up that key, I knew I had to act. Fortunately, my shadow was up for a ride.”
“I’m sorry,” Leven said, feeling weak.
The Want shook and screamed, the light around him filling the room and then being sucked back into him. He shook it off.
“The key’s yours,” the Want said, handing it to Leven. “There are many who desire it, but you must give it to nobody. It still has a very important role to play and is best kept in your hands. It is one of seven and part of the end of Foo.”
Leven took the key and flipped it over in his palm.
“I need you to trust me,” the Want said. “I hope the key shows I trust you.”
Leven nodded.
“Foo is at odds,” the Want continued. “For many years now it has been struggling with its purpose. In the beginning, Foo was a perfect place.”
Clover sighed as if bored.
“Your sycophant is still here?” the Want asked angrily.
Leven nodded as the temperature in the room chilled. The fire stood tall.
“He needs to step out,” the Want insisted. “Have him leave.”
“Why?”
“Have him leave!” the Want yelled.
“I can take a hint,” Clover whispered into Leven’s left ear. “I’ll be in that shaft finishing some thoughts.”
“Make sure you stay there,” Leven said.
“I need to see him walk away,” the Want said.
Clover materialized and defiantly walked out of the room and into the arched doorway. The Want moved his hand, and the door shut behind Clover. The edges around the door burned like heated metal. As it cooled, Leven could see that the door was now a solid wall of wood. Eegish patted Leven on the hand to comfort him for his loss.
“Now,” the Want said. “You destroyed the gateway?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why the Waves brought you here?
“To see you.”
“Yes,” the Want said. “But there’s more. Fate is pulling itself too tightly. In a short time the strain will be so great that something will have to give. You are the token that will relax the strain.”
“Me?”
“There will come a time very shortly when fate will ask a great favor of you.”
Leven wanted to speak up. He wanted to list the sacrifices he had already made. The past few weeks of his life had been nothing but change and sacrifice. H
e had lost his miserable life to take up in a realm where danger seemed more prevalent than happiness. He had blown up the only exit out of Foo. He had lost Amelia, put Clover and all the sycophants in mortal danger, and almost died a dozen times. Leven couldn’t think of anything that could be worse than what he had already pushed through.
“It will be required of you to trust me and act when instructed,” the Want said softly.
Leven’s soul contracted woefully, the gold in his eyes disappearing.
“The gateway was a farce,” the Want said calmly. “Anyone could have destroyed it.”
“What?” Leven asked.
“Geth was instructed to tell you otherwise, but we left it open so that you could make it through. Once you were here, we needed you to stay. You destroyed your only way out.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care,” the Want said.
“Why would Geth tell me—”
“Geth was instructed to say a number of things,” the Want trembled subtly. “Some were true and some were for the benefit of bigger things.”
“And Winter?”
“She remembers nothing,” the Want said. “Her part in this has expired. We entrusted her with the very key I had to get back. What matters now is you. If you wield the sword, fate might have a chance.”
“What do I have to do?” Leven asked. “I won’t kill anyone.”
“Interesting assumption,” the Want smiled. “You destroyed Sabine and Jamoon.”
“I had no choice.”
“Well, when your task appears you will have a choice, and you must make it.”
Eegish put his arm around Leven as thoughts swirled though Leven’s mind.
“Do you know what the task is?” Leven asked.
“I can’t tell you that.”
The weather outside the room began to twist and pulsate. A flock of Tea birds were blown from down to up. Mist from the great wall that made up the Hidden Border blew up against the windows as large, starfish-looking birds smacked into the glass and slid down slowly.
“I don’t understand,” Leven said, sitting forward in his chair. “I was brought here for this task, and you can’t tell me what it is?”
“Listen carefully,” the Want said slowly. “The realm of Foo was created before the span of Reality. It was placed here to give dreams an actual shot at becoming real. The lithens, the siids, the Waves, and the sycophants were the first creatures to populate our land. The first Want was put in place to rule above ground and the Dearth to manage the soil.”
