Afterword

The Whispered Secret

Moonlight flooded the room like a heavenly night-light. Leven had never been in a more comfortable bed. Outside his half-opened window the leaves of a cluster of fantrum trees rustled softly in the dark breeze. The trees closest to his window tapped against the top of the glass, as if summoning Leven to sneak out.

Leven wasn’t going anywhere except to sleep.

Leven could smell the sweet air flowing in through the window and dancing around the room. The gold glow from his eyes made the black ribbons of breeze visible.

The night felt somehow different. Leven figured it was because Clover wasn’t around. Clover had been begging for the last couple of days for Leven to let him return to untie the onick and to go to the tharms’ cave and free all the captured sycophants. Clover had insisted that it would take no more than a day, and that if he went invisibly and alone he could be in and out with no problem. Leven had told Clover he could do whatever he wanted, but that wasn’t good enough. So, Clover kept on begging. Finally, Leven had insisted that Clover go.

Now Leven wished he hadn’t agreed.

Leven pulled his thick blanket up and closed his eyes. The breeze outside moaned softly. Leven fluffed up his pillows and repositioned his head. He looked down the length of the bed to where his feet were. He didn’t remember ever sleeping in a really comfortable bed. The single bed on the porch where Terry and Addy had stuck him was lumpy and narrow, and the bridge Leven and Winter had slept under was even worse. Now, here he was, these last few days sleeping in a bed bigger than himself with a mattress that could give marshmallows pointers.

Leven sighed, and for a moment life seemed good.

It’s funny how fleeting those moments can be.

Sleep settled over Leven like new snow as a soft whisper blew into the room through the half-opened window. The whisper moaned, swooping around the room like an undisciplined tornado.

Leven’s tired eyes blinked open, and he looked toward the window as a thick patch of night sky began crawling in. It would have been impossible to see if not for the light color of the walls. The image reminded Leven of the air in Fissure Gorge.

Leven sat up.

Once through the window, the patch stood and slunk along the wall as if it were hiding. But the small amount of moonlight gave it definition.

“What are—”

Leven stopped talking because the whispered secret was tiptoeing closer, unaware that Leven could see it.

Leven was foolish not to act.

The secret stepped closer and stared Leven directly in the eyes.

He had been recognized.

Any calm Leven had previously felt was now gone. The secret lunged at Leven, knocking him in the chest and sending him flying backward off the bed. The secret banged in and out of his ears and through his brain like a metal stake.

Leven grabbed at his head and screamed in pain.

He tried to fight it, but there was nothing to grab. He knocked a water basin from a small table and sent it crashing to the floor. The once-buried secret moved off Leven and howled joyfully. Then it whipped around the room and began to slip out the window.

Leven sat there trembling.

Suddenly the door to his room opened, and there stood Geth. He looked around the room and spotted the secret slipping out. Without saying anything, Geth lunged for the window and grabbed hold of the secret’s feet. The whispering secret hissed and kicked itself free, pushing all the way out of the house.

Empty-handed, Geth turned to Leven.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Leven replied, still shaken by the experience.

“You released a secret?” Geth demanded.

“By accident,” Leven said. “I dug it up in the forest, days ago.”

“Has it been following you?” Geth panicked.

“Clover had been keeping an eye on it,” Leven said in a daze and feeling more frightened than he ever had before. “I didn’t realize what it really was.”

“What was it hiding?” Geth demanded. “What did it tell you?”

“I can’t say,” Leven said. He was trembling all over. “I can’t tell you.”

“Of course you can,” Geth insisted. “The whole of Foo will know in a matter of days. Once a secret informs the soul who dug it up, it’s under no obligation to keep it to itself. And a secret that strong will tell anyone who will listen.”

Leven stood in a panic. “We have to find Clover,” he insisted. “Now!”

“Why?” Geth asked.

“Because,” Leven moaned, “in a few hours all of Foo is going to know how to get rid of sycophants.”

“Sit,” Geth insisted, pushing Leven’s shoulders down. “You know how sycophants die?”

“I think so. We have to find Clover.”

“You couldn’t possibly know,” Geth said. “That secret is untouchable. It can’t get out. If sycophants could be killed, then their lands could be captured. And their lands hide some of the most important tools in Foo.”

“Then what was that secret?” Leven asked, still shaking and pointing toward the window it had escaped through.

“It must have been a decoy,” Geth said calmly.

“How can you tell?”

“The real secret is locked by key,” Geth said. “There’s no way it could get out unless you had used the key.”

Leven’s face went pale. He reached down his shirt and withdrew the key that had been hanging around his neck.

Not since Geth had been pulled from Clover’s void had he looked so frightened. Geth touched the key carefully.

“How?”

“It was an accident,” Leven said. “We were in the forest.”

“The Want must be told,” Geth declared. “Tonight.”

“And we have to find Clover.”

Geth looked down at Leven. “Of course,” he said.

Leven stood and glanced at the soft bed he was leaving. It didn’t matter; he could think of nothing but Clover. Leven threw on his dark robe and let his eyes burn gold.

He had a secret to stop.