“Told ya you were superhuman,” Paul said from behind Tick, startling him.
He needed that jolt because he didn’t have time to sit and contemplate. He looked down at his watch and clicked the little light—it’d been at least ten minutes since he sent the message to Sato. At least, he hoped he’d sent the message to Sato.
He pushed off the leafy bed of the ground and stood up, turning the flashlight back on as he did so. The others all stood closely together, examining him. Only Paul was smiling.
“What?” Tick asked. “I told you what I was going to do.”
“Yeah, you did,” Sofia said. “But . . . it was kind of spooky to watch. You’re really weird, Tick.”
He knew her well enough by now to recognize the compliment. But what did she mean about the spooky part? “Why? What happened? What did it look like when I did it?”
Sofia glanced at Master George—who nodded once, slowly, then at Paul—who let out a little burst of a laugh—then back at Tick. “Little streams of orange light spilled out of your eyes and ears and then swirled around the silver tube until it disappeared. You didn’t see that? You were staring straight at the thing like you’d been possessed by forty demons.”
Tick felt only a little bit of shock—not so much at the orange light but the fact that he hadn’t noticed it. “No, I didn’t see it. Maybe I was concentrating too much. But when Jane pulled the Chi’karda out of me when we were under Chu’s palace, that’s what it looked like. Orange light—kind of like a fog or mist.”
“No, well, kind of, I guess,” Sofia responded. “It was more like ribbons of orange, something you’d see twirling off a cheerleader’s baton.”
“Interesting that it’s orange,” Master George said. “I wonder why we never see Chi’karda manifest itself that way when we use a Barrier Wand. Something tells me it’s related to the souliken discovery—though I’m far from understanding everything about that.”
Tick’s mind started processing what the Realitant leader had said, thinking it through and analyzing. He’d spent so much time the last few months studying science that such thinking had become second nature. But he forced himself to stop. They had to get moving—they were already behind schedule!
“Man, what are we doing?” he said through a groan. “We have to get going. Now. Come on.” He took a step, but then stopped, frowning. “Wait, any of you guys know which way is east?”
Master George pointed over his right shoulder, but Paul cut in. “Wait, man. You just did something crazy, like magical. Shouldn’t we talk about it, figure out what and how and all that, so next time you can do it again? Maybe even better?”
Tick was tired of saying it, but he repeated himself anyway. “It’ll have to wait—we need to go. Now. Just trust me.”
“Fine,” Paul said, turning toward the direction Master George had indicated. “But you promised to explain things as we walked. Start talking.”
“Okay,” Tick said. He shone the flashlight ahead of him, revealing an endless expanse of trees and brush, then walked forward, his every step crunching twigs and leaves. He moved past Master George, and the others followed right behind him. The strain from winking the tube away had worn off, and he felt the chill of the air like a sprinkle of fine mist. Being on the move again would feel good.
They’d gone about fifteen feet or so, and Tick figured now was as good a time to start talking as any. His friends deserved an explanation—even if Tick didn’t understand everything himself.
“So, the Haunce is like this big sack of people’s memories and personalities and thoughts,” Tick said. “It told me that every time we have a significant event in our lives, it leaves an electronic stamp on Reality, and those moments collect and become attached to us. That’s what a souliken is. Seems a lot easier to just call it a ghost.”
“I think I like souliken better,” Sofia said. “I’m not a big fan of ghosts.”
“Wuss,” Paul muttered. “Ow!”
Tick heard the punch on Paul’s arm that he’d fully expected.
“Doesn’t matter right now,” Tick said. “What matters is that the Haunce is a collection of millions and millions of soulikens, and it acts like a guardian of the Realities. Sort of a gatekeeper or a watchman. Whatever. But we gotta trust it.”
“Yes, indeed,” Master George added, his voice already a little winded as they tramped through the forest. “The Haunce has the Realitants’ highest respect—there’s no doubt in this matter. What the Haunce says, we should do.”
“Okay,” Paul said. “So what is it we’re gonna do?”
Tick walked around a huge oak then settled back in on the course his instincts marked as east. “Well, ultimately the Haunce, me, and Jane are going to link and use our . . . power”—how he hated using that word!—“to rebind the barriers of the Realities that are falling apart.”
“Yeah, ultimately,” Paul said, a major hint of doubt in his tone. “But something tells me we’re not gonna like hearing what you keep avoiding—what we have to do to get to that point.”
Tick winced. Paul had hit at the heart of the matter. “Um, yeah, you’re probably right on that one.”
Tick felt Paul’s hand grab his arm as Paul forced him to stop and turn around.
“What!” Tick shouted way too loudly. But then he remembered what the next stage of the plan was and that being quiet didn’t quite play into it. Now that he had to tell them what the Haunce wanted, he was terrified of their reaction. They weren’t going to be very happy.
“Come on, dude,” Paul said, almost pleading. “Don’t make me give the corny speech about how we’re all part of a team. Tell us what’s going on.”
Tick shook Paul’s hand off his arm, but then nodded. Paul was right. He had to tell them. “Sorry. Obviously I’ve been avoiding that part.”
Paul folded his arms disapprovingly. “Yeah, obviously.”
“Come on, Tick,” Sofia said. “Just tell us real quick.”
Master George put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, not seeming to care one way or the other.
Tick thought furiously for a second. It hadn’t sounded so bad when the Haunce had told him about this part. But then again, they’d been tucked away safely in Tick’s home at the time. He decided to just get it over with. “Jane has a new creation—something called a Sleek.”