The Journal of Curious Letters (The 13th Reality #1)

“Yeah, man,” Paul chimed in. “That’s just not right.”


“Finally,” Sato said. “You people are starting to see why I am so angry.”

“Why would you want to hurt us?” Tick asked, glaring at Master George, sudden confusion and hurt constricting his chest.

Paul’s face looked like someone had just kicked him in both shins. “Dude, how can we trust you now?”

“Now please,” Master George pleaded, holding up both hands in front of him. “We haven’t even been about our business yet, and already we lose our focus!” His voice rose with every word. “Must I treat you like children? Are you

no different from the hundreds who didn’t make it nearly as far as you? If so, you may all leave this instant! If you can’t handle a couple of cheap tricks like the Gnat Rat, then you’ve no place being here!”

Tick stared at Master George, surprised he could change from a nice old Englishman to an angry ogre so quickly. The others seemed as dead silent and awestruck as he felt.

“This is no game,” Master George continued, his face more flushed than before, though Tick would’ve thought it impossible. “Everything I’ve done was meant to bring to me the strongest, the bravest, the cleverest. I let no excuses lie on the table—none at all. If you couldn’t persuade your mum and dad to let you come, then you’d be off. If you couldn’t bring yourself to follow such silly instructions, then you’d be off. If you let a little thing like two days of horrendous bee stings bother you, then you’d be off. Now, you’re here and I’m ready to begin instruction. Have I made a mistake?”

Master George shouted the last word, folding his arms and staring around the room, daring someone to respond. A full minute passed, the crackling fire the only sound in the room. Even Sato seemed impressed. Tick felt scared to swallow or breathe, afraid of how Master George would take it.

“All right, then,” the Englishman finally said. “If from this point forward you’d be so kind as to act like the brave souls I meant to gather, we can move on.” He paused, pretending to brush unseen dust off his suit jacket. “Now, you may be wondering why I sent letters only to young people such as yourself. Am I correct?”

No one said a word, afraid to rock the boat again.

“Come on, now,” Master George said. “Only children would be afraid to speak up.”

Everyone spoke at once at this remark, but Paul drowned out the others. “Never thought about it, actually. But now you mention it, that’s a good question that I think I’d like to know the answer to very much. Uh, sir. Master.” He cleared his throat. “Master George.”

“Much better, much better. I knew you blokes from America were smart. Now—”

He was interrupted by a loud noise from the side. Rutger shuffled through the door balancing two silver trays stacked with enormous plates of steaming hot food in his arms.

“Who’s hungry?” he announced loudly. “I’ve prepared generous portions for everyone.” Wonderful smells wafted across the room.

He started handing out plates and utensils, almost dropping the entire load with every step. “We’ve got roasted duck, thrice-baked potatoes, succulent legs of lamb with basil and—my favorite—roast beef. Plus a slice of cherry cheesecake.” Panting, he put down a plate for himself then handed the last one to Tick. “Eat up!”

Tick needed no urging. After a quickly muttered thank you, he dug in as he balanced the plate on his lap. The food was tender and hot, juicy and rich. It may have been his hunger, but everything on the plate seemed the most delicious stuff he’d ever put in his mouth. By the sounds of smacking lips and slurping fingers from around the room, he wasn’t alone in that regard.

“Well,” Master George said, “I’m glad to see we still have our appetites. Now, if I may, I will continue our discussion. About the letters—the reason I wrote only to youngsters is because what you’re about to hear would never be believed by a cantankerous old grown-up. They’re far too set in their ways, thinking they’re all smart and such. No, I needed to bring in a new batch of recruits, and I knew they must be young and spry, ready to take on the world, as it were.”

“Uh, Master George?” Rutger said through a large mouthful of food.

“Yes, Rutger?”

“Don’t you think we should, uh, move on and tell them why they’re here? Time’s a wasting.”

Master George snapped his fingers and waved his hands in the air. “Yes, yes, you’re right, of course. Thank you, on we go.” He folded his hands in front of him and looked down at the floor. “I shall now tell you everything, from beginning to end.”

And so Master George began his story, the craziest, wackiest, most bizarre thing Tick had ever heard. And he loved every minute of it.





Chapter


41




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The Tale of the Realities