The Blade of Shattered Hope

“Any potential problems?”

“Well, Mistress,” he said, croaking a bit on the last syl-lable. He cleared his throat. “The coordinates in each Reality were in pretty remote areas, except for two. Your Alterant in Prime is in a basement, and in the Seventh, in the bottom floor of a parking garage. I left a couple of Sleeks in each of those locations to guard against potential intruders. As long as we stay on schedule, we should be okay.”

Mistress Jane nodded slowly, pleased. If Frazier was correct, all the pieces were in place and everything else was up to her. All she needed was the Blade Tree, her witnesses, a quick wink to where she needed to go, and a few minutes of the most intense concentration she would ever embark upon.

She stood from the chair and held a hand out to Frazier. “Then I think we’re ready to induce the Blade of Shattered Hope.”

Frazier took her hand without the slightest hesitation, even though the hideous scars and melded chunks of gold were plainly evident. His touch warmed her, and the fact that he had no reservations or prejudice against her new nature . . .

That meant something. She felt ashamed of how she’d treated him earlier.

“Frazier,” she said, pulling him up from the couch so he stood in front of her, just inches away. Her mask flowed into the most sincere smile she could conjure up in her mind. “You’ll be by my side when we do this. Agreed?”

A trickle of . . . something pricked her heart when she saw tears glisten his eyes.

“Yes, Mistress,” he said. “I’d be more honored than words can say.”

“Good. Then let’s go change the Realities once and for all.”

Chapter 16

A Diabolical Plan

When Tick woke up, his parents had disappeared from the prison cell.

At first, he didn’t quite notice, his mind still numb from sleep. Almost absently, he scanned the dimly lit room from left to right, expecting them to be somewhere. Huddled in a corner, maybe. Or hidden behind Master George, Paul, or Sofia, still dozing. Veiled in a shadow to which his eyes hadn’t adjusted quite yet.

But then it hit him. They were gone.

His body jerked to full awareness like a bucket of water had been dumped on his head, and he jumped to his feet. “Where’s my mom and dad? Where’s my mom and dad!”

The others stirred, his shouts waking them.

“Huh?” Paul said groggily.

Sofia was looking around the room, much like he’d done just moments earlier. Master George grunted as he got to his feet, also searching with his eyes.

“Goodness gracious me,” he said. “Where could they have gone off to?”

“We would’ve heard the door open,” Sofia said. “No way we could’ve missed that.”

That familiar panicky feeling threatened to consume Tick. “Where could they be?” He ran over to the bars of the cell, gripped his hands around the cold iron. “Mom! Dad! Mooooom! Daaaaad!”

First his sisters were taken, hidden in any one of who-knew-how-many horrible places. Now his parents were gone. “This can’t be happening,” he murmured, whispering it over and over. Then, “I’m gonna stop her. Once and for all, I’m gonna stop her.”

“Calm down, Atticus,” Master George said, hurrying to his side and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Remember the whole point of why Jane took your sisters. To prevent you from doing anything reckless.”

For the first time since they’d left the basement of his house, Tick felt the surging boil of Chi’karda within him, burning and growing. But he also knew that Master George was right—he couldn’t take a risk. Not now, not yet. Closing his eyes and concentrating with all his might, he pushed the power away, urged it to cool and dissolve.

“Why would she have taken my parents?” he asked when he felt the episode was safely over. “Why now?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,” Paul said. He stepped up next to Tick and squeezed his arm. “Sorry, dude. Seriously, though, we’ll figure this out. We’ve been in worse shape, haven’t we? We’re like superheroes, man—we’ll win this time, too.”

Sofia walked over and hugged Tick, squeezing him tightly. Surprised, it took him a second before he squeezed back.

“Paul’s an idiot,” she said as she let go and stepped back. “And he never knows how to say anything. But he’s right. We’ll get your family back, don’t worry. There’s no way she’ll . . . hurt them. Then she’d have nothing to threaten you with. I think she’s terrified of you.”

“Terrified?” a voice asked behind him.

Tick spun around to see Mistress Jane standing in the hallway, her red mask glaring at them with eyebrows raised.

“Where are they?” he shouted at her.

“They are safe for now,” she replied, her face melting back into that non-expression she wore most of the time. “I decided there were too many of you to keep track of. Plus, your parents have been winked to a different location than where your sisters are. I now have double collateral to hang over your head. I sense even a spark of Chi’karda surge out of you, and one of them dies. On and on until they’re all dead. If something bad happens to me, they all die at once. I trust you’ll not test me on this.”

Tick fumed more with every word that popped out of her mouth. It took all his concentration to keep the warmth from igniting to pure heat inside his chest. But he also felt a slight glimmer of hope. Based on what she’d said, it seemed like she couldn’t sense his surges of Chi’karda as long as he kept them at bay. Maybe, when the time was right, he could let the power build and build, unleashing it all in one powerful explosion before she could react or send a message to anyone.

What am I thinking? he thought. I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I can’t control this stuff. It was just as likely he’d kill himself and his friends as it was he’d kill Jane.

“I’ll take your silence as a sign that you understand the situation.” Jane’s arm shifted slightly, and the lock on the door sprung open with a loud click. The metal hinges groaned and squealed, and the door swung open. “And the same goes for any one of you. Try anything, and Tick’s family will suffer the consequences. If we run out of Higginbottoms, we’ll just have to do some hunting for Pacinis and Rogers. Or perhaps the tall ugly woman and her little pet, the ball of fat named Rutger. Do we all understand one another?”