“Hush, Edgar,” Mom whispered, patting him on the knee.
Dad looked at Tick. “I love when she says that.”
Tick stood up, surprised he could do so—everything seemed to spin around him. “You’ve got . . . to be . . . kidding me.”
“Now, look here—” his mom began.
“No, Mom, that’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?” Her eyebrows shot up when Tick laughed out loud.
“It’s just . . . that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard. My mom was a Realitant.” He took a seat again on the couch. “I guess it’s finally official where I got my brains from.” He paused. “Uh, no offense, Dad.”
~
Later that night, Tick sat in front of the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames. Fall had settled in on Deer Park, making everything cool and crisp. Dad was too stubborn to turn the heater on just yet, so Tick warmed himself before heading up to bed.
As he sat there, almost in a daze, fingering the Barrier Wand pendant through his shirt, his thoughts spun. He’d be fourteen years old in a couple of weeks—hard to believe. How different his life had become in just one year. Not only was he a member of a group that studied and worked to protect alternate realities, he had some freaky power that was completely out of control. He’d been pulled from school to be taught full-time by his mom, with weekly lessons with Mr. Chu, and was monitored constantly for any signs of Chi’karda trouble. It wouldn’t be proper to cause an earthquake and destroy half the town of Deer Park.
And always, always, there was the threat of a call for help from Master George. Who knew what waited on the other side of the horizon?
My mom was a Realitant, he thought. Holy—
A tap on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Kayla, holding a teddy bear in one hand, a red-and-black scarf in the other. Her curly blonde hair brushed the shoulders of her pink pajamas.
“Well, what are you doing?” he asked, reaching out to ruffle her hair.
“This nasty old scarf was in my closet. Mommy said you lost your other ones.”
Tick looked at the dusty scarf clutched in her hand. He had to admit he’d thought about the missing scarf and his birthmark a few times in the last few weeks. It still made him uncomfortable to think people might be gawking at the ugly red thing on his neck. But for all that, he realized he never cared about it much when it was just Paul and Sofia around.
Kayla held out the scarf. “Want it?”
Tick took the scarf, then ran it through his hands, staring at the oh-so-familiar pattern of red and black. “Kayla, if I let you do something, do you promise not to tell Mom and Dad?”
“Will I get in trouble?”
“No—but I don’t want you to tell them. Don’t worry—this isn’t a bad thing. It’s a really good thing, actually. But we don’t want them to worry, now do we?”
Kayla shook her head.
“I want you to throw this into the fire.”
Her eyes lit up, almost as bright as the flames. She looked for all the world like he’d just offered her a lifetime pass to Disneyland. Burning things had always been the one no-no of which she was notoriously guilty.
“Really?” she asked, licking her lips.
“Really. But just this once, okay? You’d better not burn anything else. Promise?”
She nodded her head. “I promise.”
Tick handed her the scarf and scooted out of the way. “Go for it.”
Kayla wadded up the cloth into a ball, then stepped close to the fireplace. She looked one last time at Tick, as if she thought the opportunity had to be too good to be true. When he just nodded encouragingly, she turned back and threw the scarf into the fire. It took a second to catch, but then smoke billowed up as the flames began to eat away at the material. They both watched as it burned to ashes.
Tick stood up and gave her a hug. “Good job. You’re the best pyro I’ve ever met.”
“What’s a pie-row?”
“Nothing. You better get up to bed or Mom will take that teddy bear away.”
“’Kay. Good night.” She turned and ran out of the room, shuffling along with her tiny footsteps.
Tick watched her go, then thought of the stack of Realitant and science books sitting on his desk upstairs. “I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he said aloud to no one but himself.
He reached down and turned off the fire, then headed for his room.
Epilogue
~
Yellow and Red
Frazier Gunn hadn’t spoken to Mistress Jane for more than two months.
As he stood in the dark stone corridor outside her room, he suddenly wished he had another two months. This summons had been unexpected, and he felt the uncomfortable sweat of fear slicking his palms. Everyone in the castle knew something horrible had happened to Jane; they’d all heard the screams coming from her chambers, often long into the night.