“Great,” he said. “Just great.”
Sofia huffed and looked down; Tick noticed her body tense, her eyes widen. She stared at the floor, transfixed, as if hypnotized. Tick quickly followed her gaze. He couldn’t stop the gasp before it escaped his mouth.
On the very bottom of the tunnel, at their feet, a perfect red square had formed on the glass, about five feet on each side, as if a neon light were glowing right beneath them. In the middle of that square, several lines of words appeared like text on a computer screen, black on white.
“Guess we were supposed to push the button,” Paul said.
Tick fell to his knees and scooted around until the words were right side up. It was another poem—a pretty long one. He started reading.
You pushed the button; it called the beast.
It moves real fast; it likes to feast.
You can stop it once, but cannot twice,
It’s the only way to save your life.
How to do it, you may ask;
This will not be an easy task.
Your mind will beg of you to quit,
But if you do, your mind will split.
On this very spot you’ll stand;
You will die if I see you’ve ran.
I’m testing strength and will and trust.
Move one inch, and die you must.
Do not step outside the square.
No matter what—don’t you dare.
When this is over, you will see
A grand reward for trusting me.
“Dude,” Paul breathed. “There’s no way Master George is behind all this.”
Sofia sat down next to the poem. “For the first time in my life, I think I agree with you. He said in the letter we were going to a gathering, not do more tests.”
Tick read through the poem again, feeling very uneasy. Paul and Sofia were right—this was getting weird. Even though Master George had sent the Gnat Rat and the Tingle Wraith after them during their initial recruiting test, this seemed too sinister for the jolly old man. It felt dark and threatening.
“This isn’t even a riddle,” Tick said, standing up.
“What do you mean?” Sofia asked.
Tick pointed down the long tunnel in the direction from which he thought the train thing had come the first time they’d seen it blur past. “There’s nothing to solve. We have to stand inside this square no matter what happens. No matter what . . . comes.”
He couldn’t get over the sick feeling in his gut. Something felt wrong, like he’d left a fat wallet full of money on a city park bench. Or probably how his mom would feel if she realized she’d left the oven on, right after taking off in the airplane to go visit Grandma. The world seemed twisted, off balance.
After a long pause, Sofia spoke up in a confident voice. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What doesn’t matter?” Tick and Paul said at the same time.
Sofia shrugged. “If it’s Master George—which I doubt—we need to do what the poem says. If it’s not him, we still need to do what it says. We’ll be really tempted to leave the square, but we can’t. Then, at the last second, whoever it is will wink us away. Poof, nice and easy—just like the chair thing.”
“How do we know for sure we’ll get winked?” Tick asked, even though the answer had just clicked in his head.
“If somebody else is doing this,” Sofia said, “they could obviously just kill us if they wanted to. Why would they go through this whole ordeal to get rid of us? If anything, now we have even more pressure to pass these tests.” She shook her fists and screamed in frustration. “This is so stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”
“Way to sum it up intelligently,” Paul muttered. When she gave him a cold stare, he threw his hands up. “Hey, I agree with you!”
“Wait,” Tick said, shushing them, holding a hand out. He felt a slight tremor beneath his feet, a small vibration with no sound.
“It’s coming, dude,” Paul said. “It’s coming!”
The shaking grew stronger, almost visible now; Paul and Sofia seemed to jiggle up and down. Tick had never been in an earthquake, but he knew this must be what it felt like.
“What do we do, man, what do we do?” Paul was looking left and right as if trying to decide which direction to run.
Sofia reached out and grabbed Paul by the shirt, jerking him toward her until their faces were only inches apart. “We stand in this square, Rogers, you hear me? We stand in this square!”
At once, they all looked down at their feet. Tick had to shuffle a foot closer to the others to be inside the red-lined boundary.
“She’s right,” he said as Sofia let go of Paul. “No matter what, we have to stay in the square.”
The tunnel trembled violently; Tick had to spread his feet a little and hold out his arms to maintain his balance. A sound grew in the distance, a low rumble of thunder. Whatever it was—the poem had called it a beast—was coming from the direction Tick had thought it would. He narrowed his eyes and stared that way, though nothing had appeared yet in the distance.