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

“Silence! Every word we speak is vital. You need to know that the Chi’karda is magnificently potent and powerful within both of you. Almost violently so. You must know this so you will have the confidence that the task you are about to perform will indeed accomplish our mutual goal of saving the Realities. Do not try to understand how or why. The breakdown of the intricate and infinitely complex background of it is for us to worry about. The two of you will use your powers in a way that your minds best decide to present it to you symbolically.”


The Haunce paused then, maybe to let its words sink in. Tick didn’t quite understand—not at all, actually—but he knew better than to resort to any childish antics when everything was on the line. He’d only move forward and do what he was asked to do.

“The two most powerful and effective things in the universe are the human mind and Chi’karda,” the Haunce continued. “They will now work together within you to present what we need in a way you will best understand it. Trust your instincts and accomplish the task. That is all. By doing so, you will put the pieces in place to heal the breaches in the Barriers. No matter what, trust what you see. No matter what, do what is asked of you. No matter what. Do you both understand?”

Tick’s first instinct was to nod, but nothing moved because there wasn’t anything to move. So he verbalized again. “Yeah. Yes. I understand.”

“Jane?”

She didn’t answer until a few seconds passed, probably trying to save a little face, a little power. “Yes. I understand.”

“Then let the process begin,” the Haunce pronounced.





Chapter

54


~





Words on a Tree


Again, Tick could never have explained to anyone what happened next. The swirling lights and glowing orbs and colored streaks suddenly twisted around him like a

pyrotechnic tornado, spinning and spinning until he wished he could close his eyes or look away. Dizziness filled him, those pleasurable feelings of floating and tingles and warmth gone in an instant.

Everything blended into one bright, all-encompassing light around him, joined by a rushing sound of wind and roaring trains. Tick felt a pressure, small at first then building, as if his parts had been thrown into a compressor and were being squeezed back together. It had just started to hurt when it all stopped, instantly. The light, the sounds, the heavy force.

He felt nothing. He saw only darkness.

Then things began to change.

One by one, his senses picked up new impressions. He heard a soft wind blowing through the branches of trees. Cold prickled his skin as he suddenly felt that same cool breeze, felt the crisp air all around him. The strong smell of pine trees filled his nose as he pulled in a deep breath. He licked his lips, tasted salt. The bottom of his feet pressed against something—he was standing—and they were cold, too.

Wind. Nose. Lips. Feet.

Tick had been put back together. But why the darkness?

Idiot, he chastised himself. His eyes were closed.

He opened them and took in another burst of quick breath.

A forest surrounded him, a thick layer of freshly fallen snow making the whole place a winter wonderland. Huge trees—mostly pine—towered above him, their branches heavily laden with the puffy white stuff. Tick glanced down to see his feet buried clear up to the ankles. Some of the snow had melted, and his socks were wet, his toes beginning to freeze.

He looked around at the tightly packed trees that went on in every direction as far as he could see. He slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in. The place was beautiful and reminded him of the woods near his home in Washington, though this forest seemed even larger and more widespread.

He’d turned about ninety degrees when he noticed a piece of paper stapled to a thick oak tree just a few feet away. The paper didn’t seem wet at all, which meant someone had to have put it there recently, and several lines had been written on its surface. Curious, he stepped forward, slogging through the snow until he reached the mysterious note, now only inches from his eyes.

He began to read but didn’t get very far before he knew exactly what it was.

A riddle.

~

Mothball’s flashlight unfurled a spooky path in front of them.

Sato felt like he’d been soldiering with her for years. They slunk their way through the still-shaking tunnels and hallways of the Factory like old pros, anticipating each other’s movements as they tried to use their four eyeballs to look in every direction for potential enemies. So far it seemed as if all of Jane’s creatures had congregated at the main battle.

Shurrics cocked and gripped in their hands, they searched and searched. They had to find where these monsters kept the kids.

When they reached a T, Mothball shone her flashlight both directions.

Sato asked, “Left or right?”

She didn’t answer, but instead held a finger up to her lips to shush him.

Sato nodded slightly and listened. The faintest sound floated through the cracking and roaring of shifting stone around them. He strained his ears to hear it, even closed his eyes for a second. A whimper. A cry. Moaning. Sobbing. After a few seconds, the sound cut off abruptly with a terror-filled shriek. Then silence.

Sato met Mothball’s dark gaze. “That way for sure.”

They went to the left.