Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo by Obert Skye
faded. The trees had folded their branches and tucked their crowns down, like reprimanded soldiers who couldn’t bear to look their commanding officer in the eye. As the landscape dimmed, Foo felt empty, showing no signs of life.
Amelia Thumps stood inside her home, gazing out the window at the darkening view of Foo’s sleeping countryside. It was beautiful, and the evening felt as inviting as a warm bed after a long day. But Amelia knew it was not entirely peaceful. She could see there was no one about and nothing happening; still, she could sense something brewing on the horizon. She pushed her thick glasses up on her old, prunelike nose and sighed.
“So silent,” she murmured to herself. “So quiet.”
Amelia felt certain that if she were to sneeze, it would be heard as far away as Cork.
Amelia looked out the window with purpose. She had experienced enough in her life to know when things were about to change. She shook her head, wishing she could shake off the bits of dread in her heart.
“I’m too old for this,” she muttered. “Much too old.”
As Amelia stood gazing out the window, Leven was sleeping soundly a few feet away. The room was large, with clean, clay-tiled floors. Heavy, dark beams of wood spanned the ceiling, and the fire in the large stone fireplace was casting dancing shadows onto the walls. In the center of the room was a beautiful table that Hector Thumps had crafted many years before out of the wood of a fantrum tree. Amelia reached out and lovingly ran her hand along the edge of the table.
“Hector,” she whispered, the touch of the wood reminding her of the husband she had lost so long ago.
Amelia sighed deeply and bent forward with her shoulders slumped. Her old bones whined like ancient hinges on a heavy door.
Amelia looked at Leven.
She had always supported the dreams of mankind, but now she was having second thoughts. For the first time in a long while she felt that she had something she could lose.
Winter’s soft snoring pulled Amelia from her thoughts. The young, wild-haired girl was sound asleep, lying on a long, feather-covered bench at the opposite end of the room. Amelia glanced again through the window and then turned back into the room, her face solemn and drawn, like a horse that had just learned the world was out of feed. She looked down at the thin sliver of wood lying on the large table. Stepping over, she bent down and poked it with her finger. The sliver awoke, blinked, and smiled up at her.
“A toothpick, huh?” Amelia said. “The great Geth now a needle of wood.”
“I was as surprised as you are,” Geth yawned. “Fate took me where it would.”
Geth sat up and stretched his two thin arms. He flexed the tiny fingers Winter had carved for him and patted his pointed head. He blinked his eyes and looked down at the body and legs fate had given him. He was a toothpick, but he was here.
“It’s not going to be easy,” Amelia said sternly. “Getting you restored. You know, I hate to say it, but it might not be possible.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Geth responded.
“Reprimand the young,” Amelia said, waving him off. “I’ll always speak my mind. The truth is, they will hate him like they hate you. The second Leven steps out of here he will have many enemies. The good cower in fear while the selfish move forward with the unraveling of Foo. And you will be sought after by many. Sabine might be gone, but Jamoon will never let you be restored to everything you were.”
“We’ll make it,” Geth insisted. “You know the end. A person as stubborn as you would have nothing to do with this if you did not believe in the end.”
Amelia was silent for a moment. Her eyes, looming large through the deep lenses of her heavy glasses, looked pitch black.
“They have been stealing gifts,” she finally said.
“What?” Geth said, opening his small eyeholes as wide as he could.
“I have seen many who have had their gifts stolen,” she whispered. “Sabine’s desire was to transfer the gifts, but I don’t think they have that part down yet. Some nits give their gifts up freely for the promise of being left alone.”
“I don’t believe it,” Geth declared, his soul tightening.
“Believe it,” Amelia said quietly. “There is talk of Winter having been involved with some of it during her studies with Sabine, years ago.”
“Any help she gave Sabine was inadvertent. I know her soul,” Geth said. “Look what she’s done for Leven.”
“I’m just reporting what I hear,” Amelia said. “So, does Leven know about his . . . condition?”
“He has no idea,” Geth replied.
“He will soon,” Amelia said. “I think the destruction of the gateway created a Lore Coil. There is a great silence out there, as if a strong coil has passed over.”
“Then we must travel fast,” Geth said. “I have to get to the turrets and be restored.”
“And Winter?”
Geth looked toward Winter as she slept. “She cannot be restored. Without Antsel, it’s impossible.”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that word,” Amelia smiled. “Your time in Reality seems to have changed you.” She looked at Geth closely. “You do seem different.”
“I’m just as I was,” he insisted mildly. “But I have to tell you . . .” Geth stopped talking and looked carefully around the room. “Clover?” he called softly. “Clover?”
Amelia looked about as well.
“Clover, I know you’re here,” Geth said, narrowing his eyes.
Clover appeared, red-faced and clinging to Amelia’s arm. He was about twelve inches tall with gray hair all over his body except on his elbows, face, and knees. He wore a shimmering robe and a constant expression of mischief. His big blue eyes shone brightly in the dim light, and his leaflike ears fluttered softly. Leven was his burn, and he was a sycophant, one of the most important and magical things about Foo.
“I wasn’t listening,” Clover promised. “I thought I saw something on her shoulder.” Clover brushed Amelia’s sweater. “I’m sure it was just a bit of lint or something. I guess you’re not big on housekeeping.”
Geth and Amelia stared at him.
“Oh, all right,” Clover admitted. “I heard you mention Antsel, and I couldn’t help listening.”
Geth smiled, then whispered, “Listen, we’ve got to get to the fire in the turrets. I must be restored. We can gain the advantage if all that was taken from me can be reclaimed. But if a Lore Coil has communicated our condition, we could be in for a challenge. We can only hope that Jamoon’s forces misunderstand or don’t receive the message. We cannot—”
Geth was interrupted by a loud wailing noise coming from outside. High above Amelia’s home the sky screamed, sounding like every key of an organ being simultaneously pounded. Clover disappeared, and across the room Winter stirred slightly.
Pwwwwump! Skarrrrettt!
Something heavy fell onto the thatched roof, shaking the entire home.
Pwwwummp! Pwwwummp!
There was another thump and another thud and another bang. The noise was followed by the sound of violent scraping and scratching from above. Broken bits and pieces of the ceiling began to rain down. Winter awoke and sat up. The long-sleeved blue shirt and jeans she had on were covered in debris. Winter’s green eyes were as wide as lily pads.
“What’s that?” she cried, pointing at a huge hole in the ceiling where thick, leathery claws were scratching and ripping their way in. Winter looked at Leven, who remarkably was still sleeping on the couch.
“Lev!” she yelled. “Lev!”
The fire, which had only moments before been singing to Leven, began to echo Winter’s scream like a trained parrot. “Lev! Lev! Lev!”
Other giant holes appeared all over the ceiling as numerous claws tore through the wooden roof. Amelia grabbed Geth from off the table.
“Looks like they’ve heard you’re here,” she said, shoving the great king behind her right ear. “We can’t let them find you.” She ran toward Leven, but a giant roven dropped
The roven was huge and hairy with wide copper wings. It had large, swirling eyes and a thick, hooked beak. Screaming at a decibel level unsafe for most eardrums, it grabbed Amelia’s arm with its talons and tossed her aside. She landed in a heap on Leven.
Confused and still half asleep, Leven struggled to sit up as Amelia tried to lift herself off of him.
“What’s happening?” Leven asked.
“The rovens are here,” was Amelia’s only reply.
Leven looked around, not certain if what he was seeing was real or a dream. He was new to Foo and still unsure of what to believe. The white T-shirt he had bought in France and his blue jeans were rumpled from the small amount of sleep he had gotten. He touched Amelia’s couch with his hand, trying to convince himself he was awake.
Unfortunately, he was, and it was raining rovens.
The large, hairy beasts poured through the holes in the torn-up roof and ceiling by the dozens. They had different colors of hair and long, thick, talonlike fingers. They flapped their coppery wings and cawed like a murder of mutated crows. Some were roosting on Amelia’s furnishings, while others surrounded Leven and Amelia on the couch, pressing their heavy bodies into them. Winter was on the opposite side of the room, boxed in a corner.
The fire was screaming.
A fine silt of wood and grass from the demolished roof filled the air. Winter counted the rovens and focused her glance as if to work her gift. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. A thick wooden beam dropped from the ceiling, knocking Winter in the back of the head and sending her sprawling onto the floor.
“Winter!” Leven yelled, as a roven seized him by the arm.
Amelia pushed through two big rovens, yelling, “Stop this!”
The rovens cawed menacingly as Amelia knelt down by Winter and checked for life. Winter was breathing, but she was out cold.
Amelia threw a frightened glance at Leven.
A few of the larger rovens leapt back up to the ceiling and began to bite and tear and pull at one of the biggest openings. Moments later they dropped down and backed away.
Leven was looking up at the opening, peering through it at the purple sky, when his view outward was suddenly obscured by the shadow and shape of a giant roven descending into the room. Leven had never seen a roven before, much less a roven of such massive size. The menacing creature was more than twice Leven’s height, and its huge, copper wings grew directly from its shoulders and along its gigantic arms. The wind from its thick wings swept through the room as the roven settled itself. Its entire body was covered with bright orange hair, and a pair of small, hooded, yellow eyes glared out from its fierce-looking face. The hair covering its body was so bright, it was hard to look at it directly. Braided around the roven, like a loose harness, were two thick, leathery bands that crossed in an X in front. The roven’s chest was thick and wide like an ape’s, but in every other point the creature resembled a mutated raven.
As the giant roven settled heavily onto the floor of the cottage, the other rovens in the room all lowered their heads in deference and spread their wings wide in a bow. The ugly leader opened its beaklike lips and emitted a triumphant bellow, then closed its huge mouth with a resounding clack.
The fire fainted.
Leven was shaking. He had stepped into Foo with the hope that things would be calm and safe. What he was staring at now was anything but.
“Look at my roof,” Amelia demanded, talking to the rovens as if they were just a gang of bothersome kids who had cut across her prized lawn. “I’m not fixing that. And what have you done to Winter—”
The orange roven turned on Amelia and roared, distorting the old woman’s lips, nostrils, and wrinkled forehead with the force of its cry.
Amelia pulled Winter into her lap.
The lead roven sniffed loudly. It beat its wings and turned to face Leven. It screeched in Leven’s face, giving Leven a good whiff of what it had eaten earlier. Judging by the smell, that was something meaty and well past its expiration date.
The roven strutted around in a circle and flapped its wings. It peered under the table and behind furniture, as if searching for something. After a couple of minutes it turned back to Leven, roaring menacingly and covering Leven’s face with spit.
Leven was too frightened to even wipe it off.
The orange roven bellowed again and flapped its mighty wings, signaling the rovens around it to move into action. Like robots they arranged themselves into two lines, one along either side of the large room, pushing any furniture out of the way and creating a barrier between Leven on one side and Amelia and Winter on the other. The speed with which they moved and the precision of their formation was amazing, and Leven watched in awe as each found its place and stood at attention. Those rovens who couldn’t find a place in the room began to scratch and scream and push out into the open, extending the line outside the house.
Leven dashed from the couch and broke through the line of rovens. The big birds were too occupied with getting into formation to pay any attention to him. Leven knelt down by Amelia, who was sitting on the floor, holding the unconscious Winter in her lap.
“What are they doing?” Leven gasped, his body shaking. “There are so many.”
“They’re diggers,” Amelia spat.
“This could be interesting,” Geth whispered, speaking up from behind Amelia’s ear.
Once they were all lined up, the rovens began to dig furiously at the ground. There were hundreds of them, and their sharp, leathery talons ripped through the flooring of Amelia’s home and into the rich soil as easily as a child spooning a trench in a sandbox. Dirt flew everywhere as the rovens’ talons spun violently. The trench they created was long and deep, and in a few moments most of them had dug so far down Leven couldn’t see them.
The giant orange roven was still in the room, its yellow eyes trained on Leven and its wide copper wings stretched out as if to hide the chasm the rovens were creating. It glared at Leven, smiling as wickedly as its beaklike mouth would allow.
Leven needed his gift of seeing and manipulating the future to kick in. He tried to clear his mind and get an idea of what was happening. If he could see what was coming, he thought he might be able to manipulate it to his advantage. It was a nice idea, but it was too late. His eyes stayed brown. Besides, the danger was now, not in the future, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.
Finally, the orange roven clamped its wings shut, stepped backward, and dropped down into the trench the others had dug.
All noise faded as the roven disappeared.
Leven looked at Winter. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow. Her blonde hair hung wildly around her pale face. Leven shook his head; he couldn’t seem to focus his thoughts. He had entered Foo with the understanding that it would be a marvelous place filled with endless possibilities. He had thought the main challenge would be to get here. Now, as he looked around, he felt just the slightest bit misinformed.
The air remained still. For all the fuss and fanfare the rovens had made dropping in, it now seemed as though they had simply dug themselves into the earth and vanished.
Leven was amazed at the size of the trench they had created. It was as wide as the room and extended in both directions out either end of the house. Leven could see the large table that had once been in the middle of the room teetering on one edge of the gap.
Leven fell to his stomach and began to inch closer to the large trench the rovens had dug.
“Shouldn’t we be running away instead of crawling toward it?” Clover asked, materializing on Leven’s back as he crawled.
“I don’t—” Leven reached the edge of the trench and stopped talking. Looking down, he groaned deeply.
There was no sign of any rovens, and the trench was so deep and so dark that Leven couldn’t see the bottom. Clover jumped off Leven’s back to stand beside him, and the two of them peered into the abyss. T
“This can’t be good,” Leven said breathlessly.
Clover leaned forward over the edge, staring into the darkness. “Dumb birds,” he spat. “I have half a mind to jump down there and sink my teeth into them. Who’s going to clean up this mess?”
Amelia shifted Winter from her lap and crawled over next to Leven. She peered over the edge with Geth still behind her ear.
“Fascinating,” Geth observed.
All of them gazed down into the endless dark.
“Maybe we should . . .” Leven began.
Leven wasn’t going to say anything profound or offer up any real solution. He was simply going to suggest something like, “Maybe we should back up,” or, “Maybe we should get away from the edge before anyone falls in.” But, for all any of the others ever knew, he may have been about to say something that would have been wise and useful, an observation they could have used to buoy their spirits and work toward a hopeful solution and a plan of action.
Either way, it didn’t make a difference.
Leven’s words were interrupted by the guttural screeching of hundreds of rovens streaming up from the deep, dark crevice they had dug. The large fowls erupted from the darkness like a geyser of colorful, howling demons.
Leven, Clover, Amelia, and Geth didn’t even have time to turn away before the rovens were right below them, latching onto the sides of the trench and clinging to the walls.
Leven spotted the huge orange roven. The beast’s yellow eyes glowed with hate as it looked directly at Leven and screeched one last time. Then the wings upon the rovens’ shoulders and arms began to shift and spin. They whirled together, creating a tremendous fan. Their spinning wings propelled them forward against the sides of the trench they were clinging to. The thrust of their wings was so great that the trench began to expand. It took Leven a moment to realize what they were doing, but before he could inform his friends, Geth hollered, “They’re widening the rip!”