The Blade of Shattered Hope
“What’s going on?” Sato asked. “What is that noise?”
“No ruddy idea,” Mothball answered.
The sound grew and intensified, making Sato’s head hurt. “What shou—”
He fell to the floor as the whole house started to shake and tremble.
Tick sat still, transfixed by the humming, throbbing black tree. Its waves of energy were almost visible to some sixth sense he didn’t quite understand. Since the noise had started, none of his friends had said a word, and Tick was sure they were as mesmerized and scared as he was.
The man Jane had called Frazier Gunn was walking from screen to screen, flicking the thin metal bar of each spinner that was attached to the exact center. He moved on without even waiting to make sure the spinner worked. As if by magic, and certainly by a technology Tick didn’t understand, the metal rods spun faster and faster, despite the seeming lack of any motor.
A shimmering silver disk, maybe four inches wide, appeared. Once the spinner hit full speed, a much larger, red-tinted projection shot out, creating a wide, hazy circle that covered most of the screen behind it. Only the white corners of the squares were visible. Tick knew that soon those red circles would turn into video feeds, as clear in quality as any movie he’d ever seen.
Just as Frazier flicked the last spinner, Mistress Jane came over to Tick and the others, seemingly done with whatever she’d been doing to make the menacing black tree hum as it did. She stopped a few feet in front of their line of chairs, her red mask looking somewhat weary. She stared directly at Tick.
“I’m going to explain everything to you,” she said, her voice tight. Strained. “And this isn’t some example of the bad guys telling the good guys the whole diabolical plan just in time for them to escape and save the day. No, I want you to know. Every last detail. Once you do, and once you witness the extent of my power, I’ll set you free so you can tell the other Realitants and spread the word throughout each world. Everyone must know what I’m capable of, and the reasons why it must happen.”
She paused, and the eyes of her mask, dark and deep, never wavered from Tick. “Correction. I’m going to set most of you free to spread the word. Atticus stays with me.”
Tick stood up, not sure where the courage came from. “What? Why? You promised you’d let me and my family go if I didn’t try to stop you.”
Jane’s scarred hand shot out from beneath the folds of her robe, her palm outward. At the same instant, Tick flew backward, hit by an unseen force that thumped him in the chest. He fell into his chair and toppled over, banging his head against the dusty, hard ground. Shaking it off, he scrambled to his feet and picked up his chair. Glaring at Jane, he took a seat, hating himself for being such a wimp. Not an ounce of Chi’karda flickered inside him.
Jane’s mask was a sneer. “I never made any such promise of letting you free, Atticus. Only your family. Now stay silent, or I’ll get rid of one of your sisters.”
Tick gripped the sides of his chair to stop his hands from shaking. He had to do something. This wasn’t right, letting this woman treat them this way. He had to do something!
Jane continued with her speech as if nothing had happened. “What you’ll be witnessing today is the first fully functional use of the most mysterious substance in the universe. Most scientists throughout the Realities don’t even know what it is, much less how to use it.”
“What are you talking about?” Master George said.
Jane didn’t take her eyes off Tick, answering her former boss without so much as the courtesy of a glance. “George, as usual, you speak to me with your condescending, I-know-more-than-you-do arrogance. Now shut up.”
Tick looked over at Master George, shocked at how childishly rude Jane’s command had been. The old man glowered, his face redder than ever, his lips quivering despite being pressed together so hard they were almost white. But he didn’t say anything.
“The Blade Tree before you,” Jane continued, her expression still angry, “is made from the substance I was trying to tell you about before being so rudely interrupted. No tool of modern science could’ve accomplished such a thing as creating this object, I assure you. It took my ever-growing skills—fostered from my connection with the Thirteenth Reality—along with the additional powers granted to me by being unified with Chu’s Dark Infinity, and an understanding of physics only my innate brilliance combined with a lifetime of study could accomplish.”
She leaned closer to Tick. “Think on this, Atticus. As great as my gifts over Chi’karda have become, I could not have done this without the catalyst and boosting power of Chu’s failed mechanism. In many ways, you are my partner. Think on that as you see what’s about to happen.”
She knelt down before him, reached out her disgusting right hand, and placed it on Tick’s knee. Even through his jeans, he could feel the roughness of her palm, the tiny pricks of metal jutting out from her skin. Though every instinct told him to get up, scream, and run as far away as possible, he refused to cower away from her.
Jane’s mask melted and flowed into an evil grin.
“Yes, Atticus,” she said in a mockingly gentle voice. “Think on what you did to me as you watch billions of people in the Fifth Reality die.”
Tick had hoped deep down that she hadn’t meant it when she’d said her plan was to destroy an entire planet. But the demented tone of her next statement erased all doubt—and hope.
“Billions, Atticus. Billions.”
Chapter 21
The Unleashing
The constant, terrible, pulsing waves of sound increased in volume, rattling Sato’s skull as the earthquake’s intensity slowly escalated.
He crawled toward Windasill, unable to get back to his feet. The house shook like a ship at sea, thrown about by massive waves and wind. Things crashed all around them: lamps, dishes, picture frames, decorative trinkets of glass. Their remains littered the floor, sharp and vicious. Sato picked through the wreckage, ignoring the pricks of pain, the feel of moistness on his palms. He refused to look down, hoping it was sweat, not blood.
He’d seen Windasill fall but hadn’t heard a peep from her since. With no idea where Mothball, Rutger, and Tollaseat had gone off to, Sato could only think to try to help where he could. Windasill.
He rounded an overturned cabinet, the large wooden drawers spilling out. Windasill was on the floor, lying on her side, a trickle of blood running from her mouth. Her eyes were closed, but her chest rose and fell with deep breaths.