The Blade of Shattered Hope

Sofia and Paul were standing next to him now, scanning the area as he was. Master George finally made it to the ridge as well. Tick heard him grunting and gasping for breath behind them.

“What’s that in the middle?” Paul asked, pointing.

Tick looked, and when he saw what Paul was pointing at, he couldn’t believe he’d missed it before.

It was a statue of a tree, maybe four feet tall, and made of the blackest material Tick had ever seen. There was no blemish to its darkness, no dust, no flash of light or reflection. Every inch of it was pure black. The trunk of the tree was about a foot thick, and its limbs shot off starting halfway up, branching out over and over until the outermost tips were as thin as toothpicks.

“That’s plain weird,” Sofia said.

“What could she possibly be doing with all this junk?” Paul asked. “Especially a stupid sculpture of a tree?”

Master George had finally caught his breath. “Whatever that tree is, I suspect it’s the most important thing down there. It gives me a very bad feeling.”

“It’s so black it doesn’t seem real,” Sofia said.

Tick noticed Jane had walked all the way down to the outermost group of people next to a row of computers but was now coming back. Her red mask still had that creepy smile, like she was a kid at Disneyland and having the time of her life.

“Come down!” she called. “I’ve got chairs for you!”

Tick exchanged looks with Paul and Sofia. Jane sounded way too cheerful, way too nice. That scared Tick almost more than when she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Off we go,” Master George whispered, giving the three of them a gentle push from behind.

When they made it to the bottom, Jane gestured toward a man holding four folding chairs in his hands, two in each. He had black hair and unusually thin eyebrows, and he wore a faded red T-shirt and jeans. As he started setting up the chairs, Jane introduced him.

“This is Frazier Gunn, my most loyal servant. He’ll be in charge of ensuring you all witness today’s events. I’ll be too busy to see to it myself. But let me make this clear—if you cooperate, no harm will come to you or the Higginbottom family. However, one sign of trouble, and Frazier . . . has his orders.”

Tick’s hatred for her burned inside him, and he had to suppress a rising tide of Chi’karda. He pushed it away, feeling an icy chill settle in his gut. Completely dejected, he numbly walked to one of the chairs and sat down, saying nothing, ignoring everybody. All he could see in his mind were images of his family.

“That’s the spirit,” Jane said. “The rest of you sit down. The show will begin shortly.”

“What is the show?” Master George asked, not having moved an inch at her command.

“Sit, George,” Jane replied. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Paul and Sofia sat down on either side of Tick, their faces looking half confused and half angry, and maybe a little curious as well. Tick couldn’t help but wonder what they were thinking. If the roles were reversed, would he think them selfish if they refused to fight Jane because they didn’t want to risk the lives of their families? He hoped not.

“Hey,” Paul whispered as he leaned toward him. “Look at that tree. It almost looks like it’s made of liquid or something. Does funny things to my eyes when I stare at it.”

Tick moved his eyes in that direction. The black sculpture was fascinating this close up. The tree was deeply dark, its details crisp, the edges finer than they naturally should be. Every branch, from the thick parts where they connected to the trunk to the needle-thin tips, which looked sharp enough to impale rock, almost seemed to move in an unseen breeze, tricking his vision as he scanned the sculpture from top to bottom, side to side.

“It is weird,” he finally said to Paul.

He felt like he wasn’t looking at something in the real world. It reminded him more of animation, something done with the most advanced computer technology available. It made him queasy; he finally looked away. Jane’s workers bustled about the area, checking dials and switches, typing on keyboards, adjusting the screens. But no one came within a few feet of the black tree. No one even appeared to look at it.

Maybe they are as terrified of it as we are, Tick thought. What could it possibly be?

Actually, one person was looking at it. Jane stood on the edge of the temporary complex, almost hidden from his sight by one of those movie screens. Arms folded, her mask showing that unreadable expression, she seemed to be concentrating on the tree. Tick would’ve given anything to see her real face at that moment, or better yet, to read her thoughts. What was going on here?

“Tick,” Sofia said quietly.

“What?” He cringed—he hadn’t meant to sound so harsh.

Sofia’s head snapped around to glare at him. “Okay, you know what, Atticus? I know they have your family, and I know you’re stressed to the max. But being rude to us isn’t gonna help anybody.”

Tick knew she was right, and for about three seconds hated her for it. “Sorry,” he finally muttered.

“It’s fine. Listen, what can you do with this power of yours? The Chi’karda. We haven’t really had much chance to talk about it.”

Paul leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees, looking their way. “Yeah, man, it seems like you learned a lot more about it since last time you gave us an update on e-mail.”

Tick shook his head. He didn’t really want to talk about it, but he forced himself to do it, hoping he could get his mind off his family. “It’s crazy. I feel this really warm burning in my chest, like hot air is swirling around in there. In my basement, I concentrated on it, tried to picture things in my mind. Like it was something I could grab with my hands—my pretend hands, I guess. Then I threw it at her. It was all mental—just like acting out images in my head.”

“I couldn’t really tell what was happening,” Sofia said. “I felt something, like a big surge of energy or electricity. And I could tell Jane was struggling against an invisible wall of whatever. But it wasn’t like you were shooting balls of fire.”

“Yeah,” Paul added. “Why can’t you just shoot balls of fire? That’d be nice.”

Tick ignored that, trying to decide if he dared say what he’d just thought. “Well, there might be something.”

Sofia gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

“You know how she keeps saying she can sense when I use the Chi’karda?”