“Where is there?” Geth asked with urgency. “Where is Payt now?”
“He’s in Finis, but you can’t get there,” Sig argued. “It’s beyond the wall, and he sits in a castle filled with so many traps that one misstep brings death. So why bother?”
“Where is this castle?” Geth asked, not deterred in the least.
“What do you want me to do, point? Okay, it’s that direction,” Sig said, pointing. “There’s really only one main road.”
“If that’s all you’ll give us, then that’s all I’ll take,” Geth said. “The right direction can change the world.”
Sig shook his head and put his hands down. “You lithens are insufferable.”
“Are there people in the realm who will help us?” Geth asked.
Sig sniffed and put his hands back up over his face. “Listen, perhaps I gave you the wrong impression. I don’t care what you do. Not that you have a lot of choice in the matter anyway. You’re stuck where you are until they come for you. That’s fate.”
“Well, I’m in the mood to shove fate forward these days,” Geth said excitedly.
“Whatever,” Sig scoffed. “Return of the lithens? Hah.”
“And sycophant,” Clover added.
Sig laughed a cold, I-think-you’re-both-as-stupid- as-paste sort of laugh. He then shrank back into the shadows of his own cell as a small bell rang at the end of the corridor. It chimed three times and then grew silent.
“What’s that?” Clover asked.
“Food,” Sig said from the dark. “The women are here.”
“Perfect,” Geth said.
“I know,” Clover agreed, rubbing his hands together. “I’m starving.”
“No,” Geth whispered. “We’re not going to be eating.”
“Aw,” Clover complained. “That’s not perfect. What’s so great about women coming? Are you forgetting that it was a woman who got us into this?”
“I haven’t forgotten,” Geth admitted.
“Well, I’m telling Phoebe,” Clover said. Then he stood there making a face. “Just pretend I disappeared,” he said, frustrated.
“You got it,” Geth replied.
The bell rang again as Geth closed his blue eyes and considered his options.
Chapter Six
Hit and Run
I know of very few people who like to be confined to small spaces. In fact, offhand I can’t think of a single friend who volunteered to help out when I was looking for someone to hide in a buried casket for me. It’s a selfish world at times. Still, the fact remains that most individuals prefer breathing room to suffocation. For example, there are far more hot-air balloonists in the world than ice-chest hermits. You might argue that that doesn’t really make sense, but that only reinforces the point I am so poorly getting to, and that point is that Geth and Clover were trapped in a small room and they needed to get out. I suppose it would have been more appropriate to start this chapter with . . .
I know of very few people who like to be confined to small rooms in strange lands.
Actually, neither starter is that great. Let’s just go with . . .
Geth and Clover were trapped. They were locked behind bars, and the only tools or means of escape they had were a bed, a chest of drawers, a pitcher, and a bucket. Clover suggested they put some hay from the mattress in the bucket and start a fire, but he took the suggestion back when Geth reminded him that all it would do was create smoke and possibly kill them in the process.
“Let’s just agree to disagree,” Clover suggested.
“Get in the drawer,” Geth ordered.
“What?” Clover asked.
“In the drawer.”
Clover hopped back up onto the dresser and climbed into the top drawer. “Try to get some . . .”
Geth closed the drawer on him just as the iron door opened and a big woman in a long robe entered the stone corridor outside of their bars.
“ . . . food,” Clover’s muffled voice insisted.
The woman shuffled along the corridor tossing bundles of food to those in other cells and wishing them well. She was obviously aware of Sig’s personality because she threw his bundle extra hard.
“I hope it’s better than last time,” Sig yelled out.
The woman stopped three feet in front of Geth and Clover’s cell. She pulled the hood off of her head and stared at Geth. She had brown hair and a fig-shaped nose and thin lips. Her eyebrows sagged over her dull green eyes, but all the weathered features together made for a friendly face.
“Welcome,” she said sadly.
Geth smiled and the young soul trapped in the old woman’s body’s smiled out through her eyes.
“If I were a hundred years younger,” she said coyly. “Such a handsome man in such an ugly place. Is it true? Are you what they say you are?”
“What do they say?” Geth asked.
“A lithen.”
“I am,” Geth said, taking the food bundle. “And I need to get out of here. Can you help?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said, keeping three feet away from the bars. “We come here out of the goodness of our hearts. Payt uses us to keep his prisoners alive. His voice doesn’t control us and we are allowed to stay neutral. I’ve no key.”
“But you unlocked the door in the corridor,” Geth pointed out. “Perhaps that key would work in this one.”
“Clever,” the woman smiled. “Most here are too scared or too simple to think things out.”
“What’s to be scared of?” Geth asked.
“Such a brave soul,” the woman said, stepping closer to hand Geth his bundle of food.
“Thank you so much,” Geth smiled.
The old woman blushed for the first time in twenty-seven years.
“Can I ask you something?” Geth whispered.
The woman leaned in and spoke softly. “Of course you can.”
“Have you ever done something you knew you shouldn’t?”
The woman gulped and leaned in closer. “What are you—”
Geth punched her right in the figgy nose. The poor woman flew backwards onto her rear and slid up against the corridor wall. She sat there slumped over and looking like someone who was serious about taking a siesta.
“Sorry,” Geth yelled over his shoulder as he ran to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer.
Clover popped out and looked around. He could see the woman through the bars.
“What happened?” he asked.
“No time,” Geth insisted. “I need you to search her robes and find the key.”
“But I—”
“Now,” Geth said firmly.
Clover hopped out of the top drawer and ran through the bars and over to the poor woman that Geth had knocked out. “Is she sleeping?” Clover hissed.
“No,” Sig yelled from his cell. “Your friend knocked her out.”
“You hit a woman?” Clover asked with disgust as he searched her pockets.
“I had no other choice,” Geth replied. “We’ve got to get to Eve before she’s killed. If it helps, I feel awful that I had to do it.” Geth reached his arms out through the bars, urging Clover to hurry. “I promise I’ll apologize to her someday. But for now, come on. I don’t know if there are others coming.”
Clover found the key and pulled it from a pocket.
“Try it!” Geth cheered.
Clover hopped over and up onto the lock. He shoved the key into the keyhole and the door clicked. Geth pushed the bars open and looked at Sig in his cell. He reached over and put the key in Sig’s door.
“No way!” Sig insisted. “Don’t let me out. I’m neutral, remember? Freedom would just bring me trouble.”
“Wow,” Geth said, disgusted. “Well, will you at least tell that wo
man how sorry I am?”
“Fine,” Sig replied. “But I guarantee she’s going to doubt my sincerity.”
Clover jumped up onto Geth’s right shoulder and the two of them made their way down the corridor and out through the iron door.
“Why’d you put me in that drawer?” Clover asked as they ran.
“I didn’t want you to see what I was going to do,” Geth replied.
“You never would have done that before,” Clover said needlessly. “You know that, right?”
“I asked nicely for the key first,” Geth rationalized.
“Oh, that makes everything better.”
On the other side of the iron door there were three more corridors and two other women passing out food. The two women saw Geth and screamed.
“You have a nice effect on women,” Clover yelled.
Geth ran down the far right corridor. Prisoners in other cells hollered out at him as he passed, but Geth ignored their cries, knowing there wasn’t time to free them all. He turned a sharp corner that led to a square door.
On the other side of the door there was a wooden chair and an empty old desk. Next to the desk on the floor was a large pile of junk. Geth could see a shoe, a satchel, some pants, and what looked like . . .
“Your robe!” Geth said, pointing to the pile. “Isn’t that your robe?”
Sticking out from beneath a boot and three long sticks of wood was the corner of Clover’s robe.
Clover had never jumped faster.
The sycophant flew through the air, peeling off his hay skirt and landing beside the desk. He pulled his robe out from the pile and threw it on. In the blink of an eye he was gone. Geth could no longer see him, but he could hear him cheering. Clover materialized on Geth’s left shoulder.
“Feel better?” Geth said, looking around for a way out.
“Much,” Clover replied.
The sound of footsteps running behind them prompted Geth to keep moving. He ran to a round door at the opposite side of the room. Finding it locked, Geth put the key in and unlocked it. When he pulled the door open, a weak light from the outside poured in.
“Hey,” Clover said. “What do you know? It is eve.”
Geth dashed away from the makeshift prison and down a thin wooden path.
“Are you running because you’re scared?” Clover yelled. “Or because you’re embarrassed about what you did to that old woman?”
“Neither,” Geth hollered back.
“Oh,” Clover replied disappointedly.
“All right,” Geth admitted. “Maybe I’m a little ashamed about hitting her.”
“Nice to see you still have a conscience,” Clover yelled.
“Even if I didn’t, I’d still have you,” Geth pointed out.
Clover materialized on Geth’s right arm and smiled. He tightened his grip and held on as Geth tore off across their new world.
Chapter Seven
Bring On the Night
People enjoy giving advice. I had a teacher who constantly said, “Put your best foot forward.” That’s great, but it makes my left foot feel bad when I favor my right. Once a doctor told me, “No pain, no gain,” but then when I hit him he seemed upset. A plumber lectured me, “Always stand on solid ground.” I try to, but it makes it difficult to fly. And I know a businesswoman who insists, “You must walk before you can run.”
Excellent advice, but Geth needed to run now. And even though the realm he was in was less than stable, he tried his hardest to keep putting his best foot forward again and again. In fact, Geth ran for two miles before he finally began to slow down. His dark green shirt was wet from perspiration.
“I think we’ve lost them,” Clover reported, still hanging from Geth’s neck.
“Lost who?” Geth asked.
“Those old women,” Clover answered.
“We’re not running from them,” Geth laughed.
“Then why are you running?”
“Eve’s life is in danger,” Geth replied.
Geth ran for another mile and then slowed to a fast walk. The landscape of Zendor was remarkable and a bit frightening. The most impressive sights were the large bubbling fields of dirt on both sides of the road. The fields were filled with mounds of dirt rising from pressure beneath the soil. Some of the lumps would grow until they burst, sending hot dirt spraying through the air. Other mounds would break free from the ground and float off like big earthen orbs, creating polka-dot shadows over the realm.
Geth stopped to catch his breath and watch a large brown bubble release from the ground and drift away. In the distance, small square hills spewed out steady streams of hot air and water.
“What is this place?” Clover asked.
“Sig wasn’t kidding when he said it was volatile,” Geth replied.
After another mile Geth ceased running altogether. Night was coming and he could see miles and miles of bubbling dirt out in front of him and the road that cut straight through it all. There was no sign of any other person or creature around.
Geth knelt down by a small stream that was running on the edge of a freshly plowed field. He cupped his hands and drank from the stream while keeping his eyes on the surroundings.
“You can drink a ton faster if you just stick your face in the water,” Clover said.
“Thanks for the tip,” Geth said.
“Where is everybody?” Clover questioned.
“It does seem eerily unoccupied.”
“And steamy,” Clover added.
Ten feet away, a mound of dirt expanded and then broke from the ground and floated off. It was the size of a large bus and moving quickly.
“That’s unsettling,” Clover said, shivering. “I’ve never seen dirt do that.”
Geth felt around in the soil they were kneeling on. He dug his fingers into it and then slowly pulled them out. The dirt in his hand stretched like rubber. He pulled harder and a piece broke off and crumbled.
“I’ve never seen dirt with such odd viscosity,” Geth said.
“If that means ‘weird soil,’ I agree,” Clover said.
Geth washed his hands in the water and took another drink.
“Where are we headed, anyway?” Clover asked. “I mean, are you seriously just going to run in the direction that cog pointed?”
“It’s all we’ve got,” Geth reminded him.
“What if his arm was off?” Clover said. “He could have been pointing the wrong way.”
“He said this way.”
“Still,” Clover insisted. “I don’t think he’s the best source for information. I say we go the opposite direction and try to get home.”
Geth stood up and wiped his chin with the back of his forearm.
“Don’t you think it’s beautiful here?” Geth asked, ignoring Clover’s request. “It looks a bit like Reality—I mean, the trees and mountains are similar.”
“I guess,” Clover said, looking around. “But it’s bubbly and the ground shakes. And what kind of name is Zendor anyway?” Clover complained. “I can think of hundreds of better names. What, was Bubbly taken?”
“You think it should be called Bubbly?”
“I’m just saying,” Clover argued. “There are better names.”
“I don’t think that’s one of them,” Geth laughed.
Clover disappeared.
Geth moved back onto the dirt trail and continued to walk quickly.
“I figure Eve and her captors are at least a day ahead of us,” Geth said. “We’ll catch up, free her, and then find a way out.”
“Lilly’s probably worried sick,” Clover sighed.
“Lilly probably has no idea we’re gone,” Geth pointed out.
“Okay,” Clover admitted, “maybe I’m worried sick. I mean, nobody in
Foo even knows this place is here, do they?”
“I spent almost my whole life in Foo and never had any idea of what was beyond any of the borders,” Geth answered. “I have to say, I’m not disappointed to find something here.”
“You’re never disappointed,” Clover reminded him.
“Thanks,” Geth replied.
“That wasn’t a compliment,” Clover said. “So what was that cog saying about being in trouble if we got out? I haven’t seen a single person.”
“Who knows?” Geth answered. “Maybe he was just trying to frighten us.”
“I’m more frightened about not finding someone who might have some food to feed us.”
“You’ve got your robe back,” Geth reminded him. “Don’t you keep food in there?”
Clover hung onto Geth’s neck with his right hand and rummaged through his void with his left. “The only food I have is candy. You want something?”
“No way,” Geth insisted.
Geth picked up his speed and ran directly down the middle of the path. On both sides of him, dirt balloons the size of cars and small hills grew and then burst or drifted off into the air. Clover hung from Geth’s neck, bouncing against his back and chewing something loudly.
“Oops,” Clover moaned.
“Keep your oops to yourself,” Geth hollered back.
“Sorry,” Clover called out. “I just wanted to let you know that my voice may be changing.”
“What’d you eat?” Geth chastised.
“Shrunken Lemon Heads,” Clover replied, his voice getting squeakier as he said it. “Whoa, I sound like one of those things cats are always picking on.”
“You shouldn’t—”
Clover interrupted Geth’s lecture by pounding on the top of Geth’s head.
“Ow,” Geth complained. “What are you doing?”
Clover grabbed Geth by his ears and forcefully turned his head to look backwards. The last traces of light were growing thin as the bulk of darkness weighed in. Despite the deep gray, Geth saw dozens of barky-looking beings running on the path behind him.