The Blade of Shattered Hope

“Ah,” Tollaseat scoffed, waving at the air with both hands. “No bother, really, no bother at all. We’re simply thrilled to have the lot of you come and sit a spell. No need for jabbering and such.”

Sato had to figure this out. “Could someone please explain to me about my Alterant? How could these psycho clown soldiers possibly think I’d come to this world and become the . . . what did you call it?”

“Grand Minister,” Windasill said quietly, as if indulging a child taking a quiz.

Sato snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that. How could they think I’d become the Grand Minister of the Fifth Reality? And why would they want to kill me in the first place?”

Mothball was sitting directly across from him. She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees. “We think the Bugs and Mistress Jane have gone off and made some type of nasty arrangement. Mayhaps done it quite some time ago. And we reckon old Jane put out the scoop on you and your friends. Looking for revenge, she was. Just happens that your Alterant became our Minister, and the Bugs thought maybe we’d planted you. Replaced Sato Tadashi in a swap. Like we’d wanna ruddy take over the Reality or some such nonsense.”

“They must be the dumbest people in the universe,” Rutger muttered.

“No, no, my friend,” Tollaseat said, shaking his head. “Crazy, vicious, bloodsucking tyrants, maybe. But not dumb. That I can promise ya.”

Sato ran a hand through his hair, not sure which bothered him more: that his Alterant just happened to be the ruler of an entire planet, or that a group of crazy clown soldiers wanted him dead. Scratch that, he thought. The second one was definitely worse.

“Wait a minute,” he said, just realizing something that should’ve been obvious from the start. “How could they possibly think that guy was me? Wouldn’t he have been way taller?”

“Not really,” Tollaseat answered. “Most of us chaps here in the Fifth don’t hit our growth spurts ’til we hit drinkin’ age. That not the same in your neck of the woods?”

Sato shrugged his shoulders wearily. “This is weird,” he said, as if those three words summed up everything. Maybe they did. “I really feel like I’m missing something. And why’d you guys bring me here if you knew all this?”

Mothball’s face scrunched up into a look of apology. “Sorry ’bout that. Really I am. Never thought we’d run into the Bugs. They ’aven’t been about much lately, according to me parents. Thought their troubles with these parts was quite well and over.”

“Quite true,” Tollaseat added. “Had our wars with ’em blokes back when Mothball was a wee one, but not seen ’em much since. No idea why they’re up in the deadie fields today. Strange, really.”

Sato folded his arms and stared at the floor. Staying here much longer didn’t sound like a good idea. “Well, maybe we should go back to headquarters. If those clowns want to kill me, I’d just as soon not be hanging out a couple of miles from them.”

“Leave before supper?” Tollaseat exclaimed, shooting up from his seat. “Not a chance. I’ve got all three ovens runnin’ top heat, cookin’ a feast like you’ve never seen before, young man. Bugs ’ave no idea you’re ’ere, I’d bet me left shoe. You just sit there and enjoy yourself with me wife and daughter while I go ready things up.”

Windasill reached out and patted Sato on the knee. “I married the best cook in the entire valley, I did. Good thing me blood runs fast and hot, or I’d look like poor Rutger sitting over there.”

Sato felt his eyes widen. He glanced quickly over at Rutger, who didn’t seem fazed in the least by the rude comment.

“I’d rather be down close to the ground,” the man said. “Safe and balanced, fat and happy. Lot better than looking like a bunch of dusty bones with clothes.”

Windasill laughed, the nicest sound Sato remembered hearing in a long time. “Oh, Rutger, we do love you so. Every last inch of you—and that’s saying quite a lot.” Giggling, she left the room, presumably to help her husband in the kitchen.

Once she was gone, Sato sat up straighter and glared first at Rutger, then Mothball. “This is crazy. Is all that stuff true?”

“Right as rain,” Mothball replied. “What’s all the fuss? We’ll have our dinner and be on our way, we will.”

Rutger rolled forward until he plopped off the chair and onto his feet. “If anything, you’re safer than ever. They think they killed you, remember? Calm down, and let’s go eat. I’m—”

“Let me guess,” Sato interrupted. “Starving.”

“How’d you know?”

“Come on, funny bunnies,” Mothball said, standing up on her tall legs. “I could use a bite to eat myself.” She reached down and swatted Rutger on the back before moving toward the kitchen, her best friend right on her heels.

Sato stared at their backs until they disappeared out of the room. How weird had his life become? He was standing in a house that made him feel like he was four feet tall, in an entirely different world, about to eat dinner with three giants and a man shaped like a big beach ball, in a place where his twin had been the leader of the entire planet and had been assassinated by insane men dressed like clowns.

Could it get any stranger?

Refusing to answer that question, he walked quickly out of the room and toward the wonderful smells wafting from the kitchen.

Chapter 15

The Twelfth Blade

Frazier Gunn stared down at the twelfth Alterant of Mistress Jane.

She was huge. And she was the last of them.

This one had been living a normal life in a small village in the Fifth Reality, where quirks of evolution, diet, and climactic factors had led to an unusually large race of humans. He guessed the woman sitting in front of him, now safely chained to the twisty black stone of the twelfth Blade component, had to be almost eight feet tall, and skinny— like she’d eaten nothing but lettuce her whole life. Crooked teeth, no makeup, stringy black hair.

And yet, even then, she was beautiful. Despite the tears streaming down her face, despite the constant begging, despite the disgusting way she wrung her hands and wiped snot from her nose with her fingers, she was beautiful to him. Maybe it was just the resemblance to Jane. He hadn’t seen her in days and missed her terribly. Maybe it was his longing for how she’d looked before the terrible Atticus Higginbottom incident. Maybe it was a lot of things.