The Blade of Shattered Hope (The 13th Reality #3) (24 page)

The heat increased, forcing beads of sweat to break out all over his skin. He didn’t dare look, but he knew that misty swirls of orange were floating around his body, lighting the darkness of the forest with an eerie glow. He held onto that vision of Sato and onto the precise and clear thought of what he wanted to happen.

Then, not quite sure if he was doing the right thing, he formed words inside his mind.

The silver tube. To Sato.
He waited.
Now.

As a tingling wave sent goose bumps bursting out all over him, he felt the weight of the tube disappear from his hands. He heard Sofia and Paul gasp. Master George shrieked with excitement like an old woman. But Tick didn’t truly believe it until he opened his eyes and saw for himself.

The tube was gone.

The message had been sent.

~

Sato never thought he’d be so happy to see Rutger.

“Why, you look a little uncomfortable!” the short man shouted when Sato finally made it through the crowd to his Realitant friends and Mothball’s parents. “I was, uh, just about to come out there and rescue you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you were,” Sato muttered.

“They’ve all taken quite the likin’ to you, they ’ave,” Mothball said, an enormous grin revealing her big, yellow teeth.

Those two were enjoying this ridiculous scenario way too much, and it was really starting to annoy Sato. “What am I supposed to do? We’ve all been winked to this psycho place, and those people act like I’m gonna save them or something. Just because I look like their murdered leader. What am I supposed to do?”

Tollaseat and Windasill were holding hands, looking on with pinched up grimaces as if they were embarrassed by the whole affair. Tollaseat reached out—and down—to pat Sato on the shoulder. “There, there, little man. Don’t take it the wrong way, and don’t be feelin’ any pressure ’cause of this lot. We’re all a wee bit scared, and a familiar face gives a lift, it does. Even I’ll admit you seem like the natural person to take charge ’round these parts.”

Windasill laughed, a sound that held nothing but kindness—no hint of mockery or condescension. “Reckon I ruddy agree with me love on that one. Can’t you just pretend to lead a bit? Give ’em all a good talkin’ to? Bring ’em straight out of the doldrums, you would. I’d bet me own two ears on that.”

Sato knew he had to quit whining. Their problems were piling up by the minute, and—

An object appeared in front of his face—instantly, one second not there, the next second there—a small, elongated stretch of shining silver. He barely had time to see it or register what it was before the tube of metal fell. He reached out to catch it, but he didn’t move in time. The tube smacked onto the weird marble floor and bounced with a couple of clings and clangs before rolling several inches and coming to a rest next to Rutger’s foot.

No one moved for a couple of seconds. Sato could tell they were all staring at the mysterious—and magical—visitor just as he was. He finally gained his wits and leaned over to pick up the tube, turning it this way and that for the others to take a look.

Sato was about to ask what it was when Mothball blurted out, “That there’s one of them fancy message tubes from Master George.”

“Open it!” Rutger yelled, jumping up and down in excitement—maybe reaching a grand height of three millimeters off the ground. “I knew he’d find us! I knew it! Don’t you worry, we’ll be out of here . . .”

He trailed off, a troubled look coming over his face.

Sato had been relieved to get the tube, but now worry swept over him. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I just . . . It’s . . . well.” Rutger cleared his throat. “It’s just that if he could send us this message, why didn’t he just wink us out of here?”

“Got plenty of worries without lookin’ for fresh ones,” Mothball said. “Open the ruddy thing, Sato, and see what the old man has to say.”

“How do you do it?” Sato asked. He knew George often sent message tubes like these out before, but Sato had never helped him with them or even seen one up close.

“Just pull the ends apart,” Rutger said with an annoyed huff.

“Well, excuse me for not being a message-tube wizard,” Sato griped. Shaking his head, he gripped the two rounded ends of the tube and pulled in opposite directions. A seam appeared and expanded until he held two separate pieces. A rolled up piece of paper slipped out and dropped to the floor.

He snatched it up and unrolled it, so eager his hands were shaking. The tightly coiled note sprung closed twice before he finally got it under control enough that he could open it and read its hand-written contents. He’d barely started before Rutger yelled at him to read it out loud.

“Okay,” Sato said, surprisingly not annoyed at the interruption. He cleared his throat and started from the beginning. “‘Dear Sato. This is Tick. Mistress Jane did something really bad, and every last Reality is going to roll over and die unless we do something about it. You were taken to that place you’re in by, well, I can explain all that later. You’re safe for now. But a few hours after you get this, you’re gonna be winked to the Thirteenth Reality. All of you. I need you to convince everyone there to come help me.’”

Sato paused for a big breath and looked around at his friends, all of whom stared back with wide eyes.

“Keep going!” Rutger snapped.

Sato did. “‘There’s a place called the Factory. Mothball should know about it. It’s where Jane creates her fangen and some new things that are worse. I’ll be there in a little bit with Master George, Paul, and Sofia. With any luck, we’ll be working with Jane to fix the Realities. Yeah, long story, but we’ll need her help. Anyway, once we’re done, there’s no way Jane will let us go. That’s where you guys come in.’”

Sato saw Mothball shake her head back and forth, but he chose to ignore her for now and kept reading. “‘The people of the Fifth are known as warriors—even those who don’t do it as a profession. Somehow you and Mothball need to organize them and convince them to come rescue us. The Haunce—don’t ask—also says there are lots of children we’ll need to save while we’re at it. Sato, you have to come! Be ready so when the Haunce thinks the time is right, it can wink all of you to the Thirteenth.’”

Mothball was quietly groaning now—almost wailing—but the note only had a few more sentences. Sato finished up quickly. “‘I know you have a ton of questions, but there’s no way I can explain everything in a stupid note. I hope you can trust me. The Factory, Sato. The Factory. Come and get us. And just so you know it’s me: remember how mad you were that I saved you twice? Well, it’s payback time. Tick out.’”

Sato stared at those last couple of lines for a few seconds. A trickle of doubt had entered his mind upon first reading the note—anybody could’ve sent the note. But now he knew it really was Tick. The tone, the phrasing, the reference to their exchange after Sato had been freed from Chu’s Dark Infinity device—it was Tick, all right.

Mothball let out a sound like a bear with its foot caught in a trap.

Sato looked at her and saw something awful and afraid in her expression. “What’s
wrong
with you?” he asked.

“The Factory,” she replied in a whisper. “Master Tick’s spot on when he says I should know all about it. Know far too much, I do. Sorry to be a pussycat, but if that’s where we’re goin’, then I’m a might scared, that’s all.”

Rutger nodded, his face a full shade paler than it had been before Sato had read the note. “She’s right. Our spies in the Thirteenth have told us all about that nightmare place. I can’t imagine what Tick’s gotten himself into, but if he really is headed for that place of horrors, then we have no choice but to go after him. Just like he asked for. Even though it terrifies me just as much as it does Mothball.” He leaned back to look up at his friend, a ball tilting on a pivot. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I’ve never
seen
you scared before.”

“Hogwash,” she mumbled back.

Sato hadn’t known her nearly as long as Rutger had, but he’d definitely never seen her so afraid—at least nothing even approaching the way she looked now, pallid and sweaty with dead eyes. “Well, what
is
the Factory?” he finally asked. “Why is it so awful?”

“Tell him, Mothball,” Rutger said. “Tell him what they told us.”

The tall Realitant’s eyes flickered down to her friend, then to Sato. She stiffened her body and held her head a little higher, composing herself. “Well, there’s the obvious bit Tick mentioned. Factory’s full of Jane’s hideous creations, guardin’ every last inch of it. But that’s not the worst part. Not worst by far, the way I reckon it. What chills me bones is to think of what we’ll see if we get
inside
the ruddy place. Things unnatural and evil. Things that just might cure of us sleepin’ till we drop dead of it.”

“Like what?” Sato asked, his curiosity mixed with a chilling fear. “What are they doing in there?”

Mothball pulled her long, gangly arms behind her and clasped her hands as she stared down at her own feet. “They take animals and . . . meld them with other animals, usin’ the mutated powers of the Thirteenth’s Chi’karda. Meld ’em right together into things you wouldn’t dare tell ’round a campfire.”

Sato held his breath.

Mothball’s head snapped up so she could look him square in the eyes. “But that ain’t the whole of it. Learned somethin’ brand-new few weeks back, we did. Somethin’ that’ll make your heart shrivel and scream.”

Sato swallowed. It felt like a dried clump of dirt went down his throat. “What?”

Tears leaked from both of Mothball’s eyes. “Kiddies,” she said, her voice cracking. “The animals only be tests. She’s done captured a bunch of kiddies and plans on usin’ ’em soon as she’s good and ready.”

~

Tick couldn’t believe what he’d done. Even after some time to think about it, his mind still couldn’t accept it. He sat on the forest floor, absently ripping apart leaves from a nearby bush, surrounded by darkness and cool air.

He’d winked something away. All by himself. After all the strange episodes leading up to that moment—the reappearance of the letter Kayla had burned, winking his group from the Thirteenth back to Master George’s headquarters, the near-catastrophe in the Fourth Reality—he’d finally used Chi’karda on his own terms. He’d controlled it and used its power to wink—a thing the Realitants thought only a Barrier Wand could accomplish.

He’d done it all by himself.

“Told ya you were superhuman,” Paul said from behind Tick, startling him.

He needed that jolt because he didn’t have time to sit and contemplate. He looked down at his watch and clicked the little light—it’d been at least ten minutes since he sent the message to Sato. At least, he
hoped
he’d sent the message to Sato.

He pushed off the leafy bed of the ground and stood up, turning the flashlight back on as he did so. The others all stood closely together, examining him. Only Paul was smiling.

“What?” Tick asked. “I told you what I was going to do.”

“Yeah, you did,” Sofia said. “But . . . it was kind of spooky to watch. You’re really weird, Tick.”

He knew her well enough by now to recognize the compliment. But what did she mean about the spooky part? “Why? What happened? What did it look like when I did it?”

Sofia glanced at Master George—who nodded once, slowly, then at Paul—who let out a little burst of a laugh—then back at Tick. “Little streams of orange light spilled out of your eyes and ears and then swirled around the silver tube until it disappeared. You didn’t see that? You were staring straight at the thing like you’d been possessed by forty demons.”

Tick felt only a little bit of shock—not so much at the orange light but the fact that he hadn’t noticed it. “No, I didn’t see it. Maybe I was concentrating too much. But when Jane pulled the Chi’karda out of me when we were under Chu’s palace, that’s what it looked like. Orange light—kind of like a fog or mist.”

“No, well, kind of, I guess,” Sofia responded. “It was more like ribbons of orange, something you’d see twirling off a cheerleader’s baton.”

“Interesting that it’s orange,” Master George said. “I wonder why we never see Chi’karda manifest itself that way when we use a Barrier Wand. Something tells me it’s related to the souliken discovery—though I’m far from understanding everything about that.”

Tick’s mind started processing what the Realitant leader had said, thinking it through and analyzing. He’d spent so much time the last few months studying science that such thinking had become second nature. But he forced himself to stop. They had to get moving—they were already behind schedule!

“Man, what are we doing?” he said through a groan. “We have to get going. Now. Come on.” He took a step, but then stopped, frowning. “Wait, any of you guys know which way is east?”

Master George pointed over his right shoulder, but Paul cut in. “Wait, man. You just did something crazy, like magical. Shouldn’t we talk about it, figure out what and how and all that, so next time you can do it again? Maybe even better?”

Tick was tired of saying it, but he repeated himself anyway. “It’ll have to wait—we need to go. Now. Just trust me.”

“Fine,” Paul said, turning toward the direction Master George had indicated. “But you promised to explain things as we walked. Start talking.”

“Okay,” Tick said. He shone the flashlight ahead of him, revealing an endless expanse of trees and brush, then walked forward, his every step crunching twigs and leaves. He moved past Master George, and the others followed right behind him. The strain from winking the tube away had worn off, and he felt the chill of the air like a sprinkle of fine mist. Being on the move again would feel good.

They’d gone about fifteen feet or so, and Tick figured now was as good a time to start talking as any. His friends deserved an explanation—even if Tick didn’t understand everything himself.

“So, the Haunce is like this big sack of people’s memories and personalities and thoughts,” Tick said. “It told me that every time we have a significant event in our lives, it leaves an electronic stamp on Reality, and those moments collect and become attached to us. That’s what a souliken is. Seems a lot easier to just call it a ghost.”