“I ’spect Chu’ll be sendin’ nasties after us before long,” Mothball said. “Better get a move on.”
Her last word still hung in the air when a great boom rolled across the park, shaking the leaves on the trees. Mothball turned around sharply and Sofia rose on her tiptoes to see what had happened. Another boom shot out, then another. Several more in rapid-fire succession. Soon they were almost indistinguishable from each other.
Sofia saw holes had opened up along the front of the mountain building, big circles that were black on black, barely visible. Silvery balls shot out of them, one after the other. After a very short flight, the things landed on the grass and started . . . changing. They reformed and reshaped themselves, twitching as objects twirled and spun on their bodies, long appendages protruding out and reaching for the ground. There were dozens of them. No, hundreds.
“Uh-oh,” Paul said beside her.
As soon as he said it, Sofia realized what the things were.
Metaspides.
~
Tick had to keep reminding himself to breathe.
A long, long moment passed, he and Jane staring at each other. Her eyes flickered away now and then, as if turmoil raged inside her as she thought about what she should do. Tick tried to think of his own options. Run seemed like a good one, but he couldn’t move, as if his feet were riveted to the floor. Then Jane’s eyes refocused on him, like she’d departed her own body for a few minutes and had finally returned.
She slowly walked forward, arms coming up, outstretched and reaching for Tick, her fingers curved like claws. Tick was so baffled by her sudden change, and the almost laughable Frankenstein gait she’d chosen, that at first he didn’t react. When she came within a foot, though, he snapped out of it and dodged to his right, ready to run.
With shocking speed, Jane spun and kicked her right leg out, smacking him in both shins. Tick lost his balance and dove toward the ground, just getting his hands beneath him before he crunched his nose. He started scrambling, but Jane was on top of him, grabbing both his shoulders from behind. With a jerk of her surprisingly strong arms, she flopped him over and onto his back, gripping his torso with her legs like a vice.
She clutched his face with both hands and leaned forward, putting her mouth flush against his ear, her breath hot. She whispered so low Tick could barely hear her.
“Listen to me. I don’t think Chu can stop the Chi’karda in you—it’s too strong. But I need to draw it out. Listen to me. I’m going to strangle you, do you understand? I’m going to kill you unless you fight back. It’s the only way, Atticus. Do you hear me? I will not stop until you die or until you let the Chi’karda explode out of you and it saves us both. Listen to me. I . . . am . . . going . . . to . . . kill . . . you. For your own good.”
Jane pulled her face away, staring down at him with her green eyes aflame. She put both of her hands around his neck, squeezing. Panic flared inside Tick. He kicked out with his legs, beat on her arms with his fists, but she didn’t budge.
“Let go of me!” he tried to yell, a guttural croak that barely came out.
Jane squeezed tighter. “Look at me, Chu!” she bellowed out, lunacy glazing her eyes. “I obeyed! I will be your apprentice!”
As pain enveloped him, as his breath left his body—squeezed from him—Tick thought distantly that he couldn’t tell her intentions. Is she really going to kill me? Is she acting? Would she really kill me?
Her fingers closed tighter, gripping his skin, pinching the tendons and nerves. Tighter still. Tick struggled, kicking, beating her arms, thrashing beneath her. She squeezed even harder. Tick couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find air.
“He’s almost dead!” Jane yelled. “Chu! I’ve won your test!”
Tick’s eyes bulged and he felt his face puffing up. He heard the choking sounds torn from his own throat. Black stars formed above him, swirling in the air, growing bigger until they blackened his vision. Darkness fell upon him, complete.
Images flashed across his mind’s eye almost too fast to register: his family, Sofia, Paul, the library back home, Master George, snow, school, Mr. Chu at the chalkboard, the Barrier Wand, the Grand Canyon, Rutger, Mothball . . .
I don’t want to die!
Something snapped inside Tick’s mind. He felt it—he heard it, like a branch cracked by a bolt of lightning. Heat surged through him, first warm then hot, pulsing through his veins, as if his blood had combusted into lava, burning him.
A piercing scream rocked the air. He realized it had come from him just as the blackness swept away, replaced by Jane’s face, hovering above him as she kept trying to strangle him.