“Then do it!” Tick called back. “How do—”
He cut off when she gripped the Barrier Staff in both hands and thrust it toward the cracked ceiling of the tunnel. Its upper tip slammed into the rock. A bright burst of white fire made Tick shut his eyes and look down. A new sound overwhelmed the cracking and splitting of rock around them: pounding ocean waves and the familiar shifting of sands. He’d heard that noise before—when his own powers had heightened entropy and dissolved matter.
When he sensed that the brilliant light had died down, he looked up. Jane had created a massive hole that led directly to open air and cloudy skies above them. The cavity was round and smooth, as if it had been carved by the strongest lasers in the world. Before he could fully process it, he saw her grip the Staff in both hands and hold it horizontally, like someone readying for a quarterstaff fight. Then all four of them suddenly shot up from the tunnel, an invisible force lifting them through the gaping hole and into the outside air.
Tick didn’t have the time or energy to wonder about how she did it. They flew like the fangen he’d seen at her castle, out of the collapsing rubble underground, across fields of dirt and mud which had pillars and jagged triangles of rock jutting through the surface. She found a safe spot just outside the large wooden fence they’d approached from the forest an hour or so ago. They landed with a soft bump, and the magic ride was over.
“Whoa,” Paul said. “We don’t even have wings.”
Tick thought it was a perfectly absurd thing to say at the moment.
Chapter
51
~
Flies in the Biscuits
Sato squirmed and kicked and twisted his body as the monstrous, furry thing dragged him across the rough stone floor. He couldn’t see a single thing, the darkness complete. Scratches and burns lit up his skin like biting flames. Even with the movement, he could tell the place around him still shook from the never-ending earthquake.
He decided to still himself and save up his energy for one concentrated effort to escape from the creature. He calmed his body and legs, trying to relax despite the pain. The thing continued to pull him through the black, cool air. After several seconds, Sato went for it.
He thrust up with his pelvis, at the same time planting both feet and pushing off. Tensing his arms, he twisted his body as violently as he could, trying to flip over onto his stomach. The last gasp effort worked—the creature lost its grip on him and Sato heard it trip and tumble across the stone.
Sato scrambled to his feet and ran toward the sound, knowing that he didn’t have time to pull out any weapons, that he’d have only one chance to surprise the monster and attack it. His foot hit a soft lump of something, and Sato pounced, falling on top of the creature. He felt around with his hands, squeezing the thing’s body between his legs as it thrashed around, trying to throw him off. Sato felt fur and sweat. Sharp claws grazed across his upper arm, his shoulder.
He found the neck, gripping it with both hands, and squeezed. Eventually, the thing slowed its attempts to escape. And then it stilled completely, one last gurgled gasp of a breath escaping, the smell of it awful and rotten.
Sato fell off the creature, scooting away frantically until his back found a hard wall. He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees as the dark place continued to shake and rattle around him. Rocks and pebbles rained from the ceiling, pelting his head. A sudden urge to quit—to forget all about his army and his promises and all the horrible things that were happening—almost consumed him, almost made him decide to sit there and wait to die.
But he couldn’t give in. He pushed his fear away and slammed that door closed.
Trembling, terrified, and blind, deafened by the sounds of cracking rock, Sato somehow got to his feet and started running.
~
Master George had to stop every once in a while and force himself to take deep, pulling breaths. The Control Room was abuzz with alerts and flashing indicator lights. Sato and his army had somehow been scattered, seemingly running around—and, inexplicably, up and down—like hornets with a busted nest.
Rutger came running in from the other room where he was doing his best to monitor TV stations around the world. “It’s all started up again! Earthquakes everywhere. Lightning storms in some places. I don’t know how much longer the networks will be able to keep broadcasting.”
“Dear me, dear me. It’s begun, just like Atticus said it would. At least he and his friends are still together—though they just moved a great distance rather quickly. Not sure how that happened.”
“We’re going to have our own worries,” Rutger said, looking down at the clipboard in his hand, charts and graphs filling the first page.
Master George groaned, not needing yet another fly in his biscuit. “What is it, Rutger?”
“All these quakes are gonna send a tidal wave right down on top of us.”