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

“I’m sorry,” he said again, trying to throw as much humility into his voice as possible.

Jane touched the top edge of her staff to Tick’s head, then pulled it back. “I’m not a fool, Atticus. I’ll listen to what you have to say. But first, you will come and see the Factory. I want you to see my gift to science. I want you to see me change the world.”

And with that, she turned away and set off down the tunnel.





Chapter

45


~





Splitting Up


One second, Lisa had been sitting on the cold, hard floor of the magical nowhere place, Kayla gripped in her arms. The next, she felt a tingle shoot down her back, and their surroundings changed completely. From light to dark, from vast and open to close quarters. She sat on something soft. Kayla was still in her lap, Mom on her left, Dad on her right.

“We’re home,” her dad said, squirming to stand up. “We’re home!”

Lisa knew he was right before he’d said it the second time. The faintest glimmer of dawn—or twilight?—shone through the curtains of their living room windows. She saw the worn-out armchair her mom always sat in to wait for them after school, the piano, the crooked arrangement of family photos on the wall.

Dad stood in the middle of the room, slowly turning with his arms outstretched like that lady in the wildflower-strewn mountain field in The Sound of Music. Though he looked a lot more ridiculous. Lisa laughed, which sent Kayla into a fit of giggles.

“I think we’ve officially had the strangest day in the history of our family,” Mom said, leaning back on the sofa with her arms folded, smiling at Dad. “But I have to say, I’m a little offended that whoever is in charge doesn’t think we could help out in this fight of theirs.”

Dad toppled a bit, obviously having grown dizzy. He collapsed into the armchair, its springs groaning in complaint. “Come on, dear. We’re not cut out for that stuff. Especially with Kayla and Lisa to think about. Let the Realitants do their job—and I’m sure Tick’ll be home safe and sound before we know it.”

Lisa agreed about Kayla, but felt a little swell of self-

defense spring up inside her. “Hey, speak for yourself, Dad. I could’ve helped Sato. Put me in a room with this Mistress Jane witch, and I’ll show her what bony knees and sharp nails I have.”

Mom reached over and squeezed Lisa’s knee. “That’s my girl. Maybe old Master George will be knocking on our door for you once this is over.” She looked down at the floor, her smile fading. Then she seemed to catch herself and brought it back, returning her gaze to Lisa.

“What, Mom?” Lisa said. “What’s wrong?”

Her mom had a second of surprise on her face, probably chagrined that she’d been caught. “Oh, well, it’s nothing really. I guess I just feel a little ashamed that I quit being a Realitant all those years ago.”

Lisa thought long and hard about that. She gave Kayla a squeeze before gently pushing her over to sit with Dad, who took her into his arms while his eyes darted back and forth between Lisa and Mom.

“What’s goin’ on in those heads of yours?” he asked.

Lisa reached out and took her mom’s hand, helping her stand up. “Dad, Mom and I are gonna play a big part in all this. Somehow. Aren’t we, Mom?”

Mom stared at her with glistening eyes. “Why . . . yes, Lisa. Yes, I think we are.”

“Good. Let’s be ready when the time comes.”

~

Sato had known it was coming—hoped it was coming, anyway—but he still felt a thrill of shock when the winking tingle scooted across his neck and back. He instinctively started to yell at the people of the Fifth to get ready, but of course, by the time any words popped out of his mouth, they’d already arrived at their location.

They stood in a big field of drying mud. The morning sun had just lifted over a forest to their left, its brilliance cutting through the last leaves and branches at the very top. To their right was a huge wall of stacked logs, stretching in both directions until they curved away and disappeared. The air smelled truly awful, like a rotting dump.

Sato had a few horrible seconds when self-doubt hit him as he looked back at his army. Most of them were gawking left and right at the place to which they’d come, many patting their chests and arms in disbelief at the seemingly magical experience of having been winked there. Sato didn’t know what he’d been thinking—how could he lead an army? He had zero experience, zero training, zero confidence. What was he supposed to do? Yell, “Charge!” and start rushing the fence? The whole idea seemed ridiculous all of a sudden.

The Fifths appeared to be gathering their wits a lot quicker than he was. Sato watched as they stood in rows, composed and standing at attention, waiting for him to give a command. They really were warriors. They really did consider him their leader.