by Obert Skye
“Listen,” Leven sighed. “We’ve got to find a way out of here. Or neither of us will ever have a girlfriend again.”
“The cage is solid,” Geth said. “We might . . .”
They could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. The rants stepped out of the shadows, pushing Winter forward.
“Winter,” Leven said with way too much enthusiasm.
“Step back,” the large rant said. “Or we’ll knock you back.”
Leven and Geth stepped to the rear of the cage. The rant opened the door and threw Winter in.
“You.” The rant pointed at Geth.
Geth looked at Leven and Winter and then stepped up to the open door. The rants pulled him out and slammed the door closed on Leven and Winter. They marched off into the darkness with Geth.
Leven knelt down by Winter.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said. “They didn’t do anything but ask me questions.”
“Who asked them?”
“Azure,” Winter answered. “There was this booth and it makes you tell the truth. I apparently know nothing that they care about. They want to know about the key.”
“Oh,” Leven said, looking into Winter’s green eyes. “The key.”
Leven and Winter simultaneously backed up and away from each other.
“Listen,” Leven insisted. “It’s probably best that we talk about things that are nonemotional. Phoebe’s got everything all messed up. I actually attacked Geth.”
Winter laughed. “You attacked Geth? Why?”
“Well . . . that doesn’t matter.”
“Who won?”
“I don’t know; it was confusing.”
Winter brushed her hair back behind her ears and Leven felt light-headed. He held onto his side of the cage as if his life depended on it.
“So, a truth box,” Leven said casually. “I was worried about you.”
“That’s nice of you,” Winter replied. “Actually, I think the candor box has a lingering effect. I feel like I want to tell you things.”
Leven fought himself for a moment and then blurted out, “What things?”
“I know that Foo is falling apart, that your father’s alive, that Clover’s in danger, and that people are dying all around us, but I can’t stop thinking about that kiss—the accidental one.”
“Me neither,” Leven admitted.
“But we should forget it,” Winter said sadly. “I mean who would want to start out a relationship on false emotions?”
“Yeah, that’s crazy,” Leven agreed. “Who’d want that?”
“I mean, it’s just Phoebe making us nuts, right?”
“Right,” Leven said, letting go of the bars and stepping closer to Winter. “We’re not children anymore. We should be able to act responsibly despite Phoebe.”
“Right. I mean, you’re Leven and I’m Winter and we’re responsible friends,” Winter mumbled, moving across the cage.
“Good friends,” Leven replied.
“Maybe even best friends,” Winter said, closing her green eyes and leaning in.
“Best friends who once accidentally kissed and now are going to kiss on purpose.”
“You’re tall,” Winter said happily.
“You’re beautiful,” Leven replied.
Leven leaned in and closed his eyes.
“Ahem,” Geth cleared his throat on the other side of the bars.
Leven and Winter turned towards him with red faces. The rants had brought Geth back at a rather awkward moment. Some of the rants laughed.
“Back against the bars,” the large one ordered.
The door was opened and Geth was tossed in.
“Come on, Romeo,” the large rant joked.
Leven stepped out and the door was shut again. He was too embarrassed to turn back and look at Winter. He walked with the rants out of the cavern and into a high-ceilinged room next to it. The room, like the rest of the massive caves and caverns, was cold and dreary. Organ pipes lined two walls and a large, ornate organ sat in the middle of the far one. A cog with long gray hair and a tattered robe sat in front of the organ. His feet were chained to the base of the instrument. In the center of the room Leven noticed a wooden box about the size of a phone booth. Azure was standing in front of the box scratching his infected ear.
The rants pushed Leven into the room and Azure motioned for him to step into the candor box. Leven put up no fight. Azure closed the door and slid the bolt shut. At about neck level hundreds of holes created a screenlike opening to look out of. The organist began to play low notes—notes so deep and low Leven could feel them pushing at his soul.
“Why are you here in Foo?” Azure asked.
Leven was surprised to find himself replying, “Because Geth brought me.”
The organist moved his fingers and a new set of low notes pushed up through Leven’s body.
“Do you trust Geth?”
“ . . . Yes.”
“There’s some hesitance in your answer,” Azure said. “Why?”
The organ drew it out of him. “Sometimes I’m not sure he knows what we’re doing.”
Azure smiled. “Go on.”
“As a lithen he’s so happy with the present and the thrill of the future that I’m not sure he understands how scared I am.”
Leven couldn’t believe what he was hearing come out of his own mouth.
“You’re much more forthcoming than the others,” Azure said. “You killed the Want?”
“Yes.”
“He was your grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know this?”
“No.”
The music coming from the organ was so low it was almost inaudible. But Leven could feel it working and massaging the truth from his soul.
“Where’s the key, the one your grandfather gave you?”
Leven shook. “I’m not sure.”
Azure laughed. “You can’t fool the truth. What did you do with it?”
“I left it in the remains of Lith.”
Azure looked shocked by the answer. “What?”
“It’s buried with Lith.”
“Impossible.”
The music played even lower.
“The key your grandfather gave you. Where is it?” Azure yelled.
“Buried with Lith.”
Azure’s face burned a bright red, contrasting against his blue robe and eyes, but coordinating quite nicely with the blood dripping from his infected ear.
“You can’t . . .” he started. But his tantrum was interrupted by the sound of gongs ringing through the caves.
Azure looked around, startled. Fear flashed across his eyes.
“The Dearth is whole,” he whispered.
Gongs rang out in deafening choruses.
Azure looked at Leven in disgust. “What a stupid child you are.”
Azure motioned for the large rant.
“Take him back to the cage and then gather everyone in the Sanatorium,” Azure said with excitement. “The Dearth is whole.”
Azure pulled Leven out of the candor box and pushed him into the arms of the large rant.
“Get him out of here,” Azure ordered.
The rants marched Leven back to the cage and locked him up with Geth and Winter. Then without so much as a goodbye or a see you later they ran off.
“What’s happening?” Winter asked. “Where are they running to?”
“And what’s with the gongs?” Geth questioned, helping Leven to his feet.
“Azure said the Dearth is whole and apparently everyone wants to see him,” Leven said, still feeling light-headed from the candor box.
“How heartwarming,” Winter said.
“I don’t want to see him.” Leven shivered. “I’ve seen the Dearth at half strength. I can only imagine what he’s like now.”
The sound of trumpets and gongs and glad hollering rang throughout the caverns—shouts of Cusp being conquered and the Dearth being whole bounced
off the walls like thousands of tiny Superballs.
“How do you think the Twit feels now?” Leven asked.
“If he’s uncomfortable, then he probably feels bad,” Winter said.
“He’s most likely dead,” Geth said seriously. “Azure has planned this thing out well, and if I were him I would have had the Twit taken out so that all of Cusp would be confused and weak.”
“What did he ask you?” Geth questioned Leven. “In the box?”
“He asked about the key.”
“And you told him,” Winter said sadly.
“Kind of,” Leven said quietly.
“Kind of?” Geth questioned. “I was in that box. There’s really no ‘kind of’ answer. I was glad I didn’t know where you put it.”
“Well, he asked me about the key my grandfather gave me,” Leven whispered. “But my grandfather gave me two keys. So I told him about the one that we used to get Phoebe out with. He thinks it’s buried in Lith.”
“Brilliant,” Geth said with awe.
“You know, if we hadn’t gone to get Phoebe, that key would be with the sycophant key and I would have had to give it up.”
“Wow,” Winter said sarcastically. “And if you hadn’t gone to get her none of us would be so emotionally messed up and crazy and wondering if we are ever going to feel normal again.”
“So it’s a trade-off,” Leven smirked.
“It’ll level out,” Geth assured them. “It’s just that there has been no longing for so long. The emotions of it will settle eventually.”
The shouting and gong ringing began to soften and soon the cave they were in was as quiet as any respectable library.
“How long do you think they will keep us here?” Winter asked.
“Until they’re done with us,” Geth answered.
Winter hit Geth in the arm—hard.
“I’m just saying that’s what I would do.”
They heard footsteps approaching and were silent as Azure stepped into the cavern and up to the cage. He looked taller and even more sinister than before. His ear bled profusely and he wore a smug expression.
“There’s someone who wishes to speak with you,” Azure said.
There was no sound of footsteps, but in the faint light a shadow cast itself against the tunnel wall. The shadow grew taller as the visitor came closer. Winter moved towards Leven and they stepped back in concern.
The shadow grew taller still.
“It is my honor,” Azure spoke, “to present the Dearth.”
All three of them went pale.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Small, Fear-Filled Hearts
Sycophants are a wonderful breed. Their kind support of those who are snatched into Foo gives so many hope and does volumes to keep the balance in Foo. But like anyone else, they can grow tired of their task and need a vacation or break from the burns they serve.
Fortunately for the sycophants, they have the ability to bite. All one has to do is to sink his teeth into his burn, and the poor nit will fall to the ground, knocked out until the sycophant chooses to bring him to. Considerate sycophants always make sure to bite their burns only when absolutely necessary, and always in the privacy of their burns’ homes. That way the poor nits can lie there blissfully dreaming about how great sycophants are without anyone noticing. It’s not uncommon, however, for a sycophant to simply get fed up while out in public and bite his or her burn there and then, leaving the poor person to lie on the side of the road or on a bench for days until the sychophant comes back.
If you look around Foo carefully it’s not hard to spot a number of nits just slumped over in a field or under a tree waiting to be awakened.
A lot of sycophants use their “me time” to travel back to Sycophant Run, or to just catch up on sleep. But a number of sycophants spend their time at one of the few hidden hostels scattered around Foo—secret spots where sycophants can hang out and relax without a single nit, cog, rant, or being taller than they are. There is a popular hostel up above Fté and a nice one near the green pond. But one of the most frequented hostels is hidden in the trees near the edge of the Swollen Forest and the Veil Sea. There are hundreds of small tree binds to stay in and a gigantic sycophant-sized tavern and park. Normally the hostel was a happy place where sycophants gathered to be themselves and rest up. But as Brindle entered it now, it seemed anything but happy and relaxed.
Sycophants were running in all directions, collecting their things and fussing over what to do. Groups of them were gathered around tables, and the tavern door was open, allowing moans and groans from unhappy sycophants to escape.
Brindle had walked through the park carrying Lilly over his shoulder. He was tired and thirsty and in need of rest. He entered the noisy tavern and sat down at a table with dirty mugs on it. He propped Lilly up in the chair next to him.
A frantic sycophant in an apron ran past.
“Excuse me,” Brindle said. “Can I get a drink?”
“Not from me, you can’t,” he said. “I’m leaving.”
Brindle stood up and walked to the bar. A harried sycophant was trying to fill drink orders as fast as he could.
“Peach malt,” Brindle said.
The sycophant nodded and kept filling drink orders.
“Hey, I know you,” a skinny yellow sycophant said. “You sit in the Chamber of Stars, don’t you?”
Brindle nodded.
A few other sycophants stopped talking and looked over.
“What can you tell us?” the yellow one begged. “What are we going to do?”
“About what?” Brindle asked, wishing his drink would hurry.
“About what?” a red sycophant cried. “The secret’s out.”
“Well then, there’s nothing we can do about that.”
“But we could die.”
Brindle’s malt was delivered. He took a long, deep drink and set down the half-empty mug. His cheeks warmed and his ears perked up. Most of the tavern was now waiting for him to say something.
“Listen,” Brindle finally said. “Night always gives way to day. This is a dark moment in our history, but it is not something we won’t survive.”
“But they know how to kill us,” a short green sycophant wailed. “The words are floating around on numerous Lore Coils. Morfit has printed the secret and has placed it in the library, claiming it is a document of importance—our death sentence, a document of importance. Lobs are reporting those who are looking for bones and the locusts are whispering about the soil having reached our land.”
Brindle took another drink and then closed his eyes.
“Please,” he urged. “Keep your hearts light—this is a peak of fear, but potentially a period of great growth. I believe that we will not only be okay, but we will be better because of it.”
Most in the tavern began to cheer and whisper happily.
“Be wise,” Brindle added. “Stay far away from those who would do you harm.”
“The gloam has connected to our home,” a sycophant with an eye patch said. “The armies of Azure are beginning the trek, with the Dearth leading the way.”
“I didn’t say I’m not frightened,” Brindle added. “But my heart is light because of hope. We must remember that without us Foo will fail.”
“It’s hard to believe that in a time like this,” the yellow one mourned.
“And yet it is more true than ever,” Brindle said.
“If we can’t fight for fear of being put in a trance by metal—or worse yet, killed,” a gray sycophant said, “then how do we stop them?”
“I believe it’s up to Leven,” Brindle said.
Brindle answered with such sincere conviction that he created a tremendous Lore Coil. Leven’s name floated out of the tavern, through the hostel, and out over Foo.
“Let’s be ready to help where we can,” Brindle added.
He took a drink from his refilled mug. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, stepped over to Lilly, and threw her back over his shoulder.
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“Who’s that?” an orange sycophant asked.
“Nobody you need worry about,” Brindle answered.
Then he smiled, wished them all well, and headed out.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The End of Terry and Addy
Nobody likes bad news. It’s never nice to be handed a piece of information that will ruin your day. Sadly, we all are told things we’d rather not hear at some point in our lives. You can try to hide from bad news, but it always finds you. Like a starving monkey who knows you possess the last banana on Earth, bad news can cling to you and scream incessantly. Even if the bad news involves someone you don’t care about, there’s still that little bit in the pit of your stomach that wishes you hadn’t heard it.
That’s exactly where Ezra and Dennis found themselves Sunday morning when they were awakened by a knock on their motel door.
The sun was just coming up and the ugly orange curtains covering the windows were beginning to leak light into the room. Ezra had been sleeping on the chair. He sat up and wiped a little morning drool from the corner of his mouth. Dennis jumped out of bed and peeked out between the curtains.
Two police officers were standing there, one male, the other female. The male officer had a thick mustache and the female had a thin one. There was a squad car parked in the spot next to the room.
“Cops,” he whispered fiercely to Ezra. “Be quiet and don’t say anything.”
Dennis threw on his white shirt and wrinkle-free pants.
“What am I going to say?” Ezra growled. “We’re pinched. I bet that fat woman gave us up.”
“Just don’t say anything,” Dennis repeated.
Dennis’s hands began to tremble. He skipped putting on his shoes and opened the door. Dennis clasped his hands behind his back and stood up straight. His bald head glinted brightly in the morning sun. Luckily both officers were wearing sunglasses. Ezra climbed up onto the latch for the door chain and pushed himself close to the wall to listen. He was only a few inches from Dennis’s left ear.
“Is there a problem?” Dennis asked.
“I’m afraid so,” the female cop said. She had a badge that read Elma, and her partner’s name tag said Keane.
