“Do we have everyone?” George bellowed out in a loud voice.
There was a chorus of assents, but no way to confirm it for sure. Mothball knew they’d just have to get on with it and hope they didn’t leave anyone behind.
“Alright, then,” George said, though Mothball could only read his lips because he spoke so quietly.
The old man pushed the button at the top of the Wand.
Nothing happened.
Chapter 54
A Horde of Creatures
Sato had learned an amazing amount of patience since becoming the leader of an army. But it was being tested like never before now. They’d formed up; hands were on shoulders; they’d all faced the old man like he’d told them to. Why wasn’t George pushing the button already? Sato tried to look over the shoulders of the giant soldiers he called his own, but it was pointless.
The creatures were coming.
“What’s he doing up there?” Sato finally shouted, the frustration ripping through his throat, rubbing it raw. He coughed for a few seconds. There had to be something wrong. Had to be. “Report back to me! Send it up the line! I need to know what’s going on!”
The soldiers started whispering furiously to those in front of them. Sato kept his hand on the back of the woman who was crouched before him—she was still almost as tall as he was when he stood up straight—but he took a look behind him to gauge the situation. Void-twisted fangen were flying in fast, and other creatures were splashing through the river and loping across the ground. They had only a few more seconds until they’d have to battle.
“Hurry it up!” Sato screamed, even though he knew it was pointless. He was about to explode with impatience. He remembered their first visit to the Thirteenth Reality, when the Wand they’d stolen from Mistress Jane had refused to work because the witch had taken out the Chi’karda Drive. Those moments waiting for something to happen had been agonizing. Tick had winked them out, showing for the first time what a phenomenon he was. The powers he had.
But Tick wasn’t here. And everything had gone nuts all around them.
The woman in front of him leaned forward to hear the message being passed backward, then snapped her head to face Sato.
“It’s not workin’ rightly,” she said simply, as if talking about a leaky faucet.
Sato hadn’t really needed to be told. “Yeah, figured that,” he mumbled to himself. Then he stood up and sucked in a huge breath, ready to scream orders. The world tilted and shook and bent. “Arm your weapons!”
He turned around to face the horde of creatures coming at them.
Tick wasn’t sure when it ended. Or how much time had passed. But he woke up and looked up at a cloudy, gray sky. He felt a hard, gritty surface beneath him. Jane and Chu stood next to him, peering down impatiently, as if it were his fault he’d been out of it for a while. The ground shook, and his vision bent and twisted. Things were still wrong with the world, but at least he was in a different place. Red rock and dusty land, sprinkled with scrub brush and cacti, stretched away from him.
He sat up, not realizing at first that he hadn’t been able to do that for a while. Hard, silvery bands were still fastened around his arms and legs like bracelets, but other than that, he was free to move. When all this dawned on his still-foggy mind, shock swam through him, and he looked at Chu sharply, expecting some sort of trick.
The man appeared numb to emotion at the moment, giving a quick nod and scrunching his eyes. All scientist. “The bands will still repress your Chi’karda, boy, so I wouldn’t try anything. But I think you’ll work with us regardless, once you take a peek over the edge of this canyon.”
Chu clicked a remote-control device in his hand, and the bands around Tick’s arms and legs sprung loose like coiled wires, popping off him and landing several feet away. On instinct, Tick reached for his Chi’karda, searching for that spark inside of him that was becoming more and more a part of his instincts. As simple as taking a deep breath. He sensed it—could feel it pooling deep inside of him—but barely, as if the pipe between him and the power was clogged.
But he wouldn’t have fought back anyway. Not yet. Not until he knew the best route to fixing all the things that had gone bad in the Realities.
He stood up slowly, fighting the imbalance caused by the never-ending quake that rattled the scorched land to which they’d come. He saw the coffinlike silver box that Chu had called the Bagger off to the side, a small opening on one end creating a window into darkness. He swore to understand what the thing was and how it worked some day. But again, not now. Not yet.
Chu was looking at him, his face hard and pinched. But there was also understanding there, as if he wanted to say that things were worse than any of them had imagined and that they needed to work together or die.