All of them but ten.
Sato would never know the faces of the ten people he’d had to leave behind when the destruction became too much. Ten people left to die, crushed by stone and earth. He couldn’t blame Master George and Rutger—they’d done what needed to be done. If Sato and Mothball had stayed to rescue those last few people, there would have been twelve dead bodies instead of ten. But that didn’t change the fact that their loss haunted him day and night. If only he had been a little faster . . .
But here he was. Back in the Thirteenth again. They had hunted down any creatures of Jane’s they could find around the ruins of the Factory, and something told him that any that were left were heading for the castle. He knew he was right after having received word from headquarters that Tick was now imprisoned there, along with his mom and sister.
Tick’s sister—Lisa. Sato kind of liked that girl.
He shook his head, ashamed of himself. What a stupid thing to think at the moment. First of all, he couldn’t believe that Tick was back, safe. There was a story he was dying to hear. And second, he hated to hear the words Mistress Jane again. Hated it. She’d killed his parents, burned them alive, right in front of his young eyes. He dreamed of it every night. The only silver lining was that maybe he’d finally get his chance for payback—at his hand, not Tick’s.
A voice behind him interrupted his thoughts. “Master Sato, we’re waiting for word on what we do next.”
Sato turned to see an enormously tall man with thin features, his black hair hanging in straggles, his face gaunt, his clothes raggedy. But Sato knew that no one should ever make assumptions based on the appearance of these warriors from the Fifth Reality. They could break a man in half with two fingers.
He especially liked this one, Mothball’s very own dad. “Gather them up, Tollaseat. We’re marching for the castle. For Tick. For Mistress Jane.”
Tick didn’t put up much of a fight. With Jane’s monsters hovering around outside the Great Hall, Mordell looking as if she’d bite anyone who gave her any trouble, and—most of all—out of pure curiosity, he decided to calmly walk with the old woman to where Jane waited for him.
They’d come out into the long underground passage that went along the river, the same place where Tick had used his own power to wink himself and his friends away from the fangen attack during their first visit to the Thirteenth Reality. More of those creatures lined the wall now as he and Mordell walked past them, their thin wings folded in, their fang-filled mouths closed, their yellow eyes glaring at him. Tick felt a nauseous chill in his gut.
It wasn’t long before he began to see the extent of the castle’s destruction. Walls had caved in. Huge chunks of rock had been torn loose from the ceiling and crashed to the ground, breaking the stone floor and creating spider webs of cracks everywhere. It got worse the farther they went; soon they were walking through a maze of debris. Tick looked in horror at some spots that appeared as if one puff of breath would cause the whole structure to come tumbling down on top of them.
They eventually reached an arch that exited into a dark staircase, narrow steps spiraling up to heights Tick couldn’t see. Dust covered the steps, but the walls seemed solid enough. Mordell didn’t say a word the entire time, just led him toward the upper reaches of the castle.
Tick was out of breath when they finally came to a wooden door.
Mordell stopped and looked at him with a grave face. “These are not the usual quarters of our master. The destruction caused by”—her eyes narrowed, and Tick knew she’d been about to say that it was all his fault—“the Great Disturbance made quite an impact on our grand castle. Mistress Jane takes her place here until all can be repaired. Wait until I beckon you to enter.”
She rapped lightly on the wooden door three times. A few seconds later, it opened, and another woman in a hooded robe stared out at them. She nodded then allowed Mordell to step inside, shutting the door in Tick’s face.
Tick was tempted to knock on the door himself—or better yet, just open it up and waltz inside. He wasn’t nearly as scared of seeing Jane as he’d been in the past; his progress in the powers of Chi’karda had given him more confidence than ever before in his life. Forcing patience on himself, he stood and waited, knowing that Jane would probably make him wait awhile just to anger him.
He was right. At least fifteen minutes went by while he stood and stared at the walls and steps of the staircase. But just in case Jane was spying on him somehow, he refused to show his frustration or annoyance. He merely waited.
Finally, the door swung open. Mordell was standing there.