Mistress Jane grabbed her black hair that lay over her shoulder and gripped it in her fist like a ponytail. “Atticus, you’re either a brilliant actor or not quite as wise as I thought.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jane reached out and poked him in the chest. “Your whole body exudes Chi’karda. It practically glows on your skin. You’re like a supercharged battery just waiting to unleash your power. I’ve never seen anything like it, and you can’t tell me you don’t feel it.”
Tick suddenly felt very ill, and all he could do was shake his head.
“I visited some of the places Chu sent you to—after you were gone. Back when I was still deciding whether or not to kill you as he’d challenged me to do. How could you have done those terrible things and not realize you’d done it?”
“I have no idea what—”
“Please!” Jane shouted. “The twisted trees, the melted glass with a huge creature stuck in the middle—what do you think did that? A stiff hot wind? It was you!”
Tick felt too weak to stand anymore. He slid down the wall as his knees bent; his rear end thumped onto the hard floor. “What do you . . . I don’t . . . you’re nuts. That’s not possible.”
Jane crouched down until her face was level with his, reddish-green eyes shining through her glasses. “You really had no idea, did you? It was you, Atticus, it was you. Extreme amounts of Chi’karda are flowing through you like pulsing electricity, and you have no control over it.”
Tick found he couldn’t speak, his throat constricted. But he shook his head. Emotions swirled inside him—anger, confusion, disbelief. Panic. He’d done all those things? He didn’t want to have some kind of weird power over Chi’karda, he didn’t want the pressure, he didn’t want to be here.
He felt hot, as if his heart pumped out boiling water. His mind burned.
Then everything seemed to go crazy at once.
A loud bang echoed down the hallway; the walls and floor shook as if a thousand pounds of dynamite had just been detonated below them. Mistress Jane cried out and fell backward, slamming her head against the wall. Tick sprawled across the floor, rolling as if the whole building had been tilted on its side. The floor gave way beneath him, dropping with another loud boom. Tick plummeted several feet and landed awkwardly on his arm. As he twisted it out from under his body, he looked up in time to see a wave ripple down the hallway like a massive mole burrowing its way underground.
As the ripple disappeared into the darkness, the building shook again, but this time constant and steady, rocking back and forth, an earthquake. Tick scooted back against the wall, looking around, not knowing what to do.
Jane got up on her hands and knees, shaking her head as she bounced up and down with the moving floor.
“What’s happening?” Tick yelled.
Jane didn’t answer, crawling toward him as best she could, getting back up each time she fell. A huge lurch sent her rocketing forward. She crashed into Tick and grabbed his arms to steady herself.
“What’s happening?” Tick repeated.
Jane shifted until she was side by side with him, her back against the wall. She put her left arm around his shoulder and grabbed his hand with her right. She tilted his head toward her and started whispering in his ear, caressing his hair like a mother trying to console her child.
“Listen to me, Atticus, listen to me. Take a deep breath. Calm yourself. I promise you I won’t let anything hurt you. Calm yourself, breathe.” She pulled his head down onto her shoulder. “Everything’s okay, everything’s okay. Close your eyes, breathe—everything’s going to be okay.”
Everything was a blur to Tick, shaking and rattling. He did as Jane told him, closing his eyes, sucking in deep breaths, surprised at the calm warmth that spread through him despite the chaos. Jane continued to stroke his hair, whispering words of safety in his ears.
As quickly as it had begun, the shaking stopped and all was silent except a creak or two as the building settled. Tick heard himself breathing, felt his chest rising and falling, felt the comforting touch of Jane. The thought repulsed him, but he didn’t move.
“Open your eyes,” Jane said, gently pushing his head off her shoulder.
Tick did, and gasped at what he saw in front of him.
A misty mass of bright orange sparkles floated in the air, a condensed cloud several feet wide, hovering and pulsating slightly as if it breathed. His eyes hurt, but he couldn’t look away. It seemed as if he’d been transported to deep space, viewing a nebula or a swirling galaxy.
“What . . . what is that?” he whispered.