The Blade of Shattered Hope

Her red mask sharpened and tightened into a fit of rage; she visibly shook.

Tick knew he had to save himself, and quickly. “I’m sorry—just please listen to me! If I’m lying, you can do whatever you want to me, I swear. I promise I won’t even touch Chi’karda. Just please listen.”

Womp.

There it was again, the first time he’d noticed the energy pulse in several minutes. Jane had been right—he was getting used to it.

“You dare stand there,” Jane said, “looking at me with that pathetic little innocent face of yours, and tell me this? That the Haunce visited you? Spoke to you? You expect me to believe such nonsense? You almost had me until you took it that far. Your capacity for evil was proven quite well back in the Fourth, but to lie like that . . . amazing. Do you even have a conscience?”

Tick sucked in a few dry breaths, frustrated into silence. He wouldn’t have guessed she’d believe him right away, but her tone and arrogance made it seem as if she wouldn’t even consider the truth. He finally snagged some words and forced them out.

“Seriously, Ja—Mistress Jane? You’re seriously going to act like that and not even hear me out? Are you so full of yourself that you’d risk the whole universe?” He threw his arms up then slapped the sides of his legs. “Unbelievable. Fine—do what you want. The Haunce’ll be coming here soon anyway. Maybe you’ll believe it.”

Jane walked toward him again, not stopping until she stood only a foot or two away. Her yellow robe glowed in the firelight; her now-stoic mask shimmered and glistened. Her scarred, metal-pocked hand gripped the Staff tightly, the bones seemingly ready to burst through the taut skin.

“Look into my eyes, boy,” she whispered, a sandy croak of sound.

“I already am,” Tick replied, standing as straight as he could and holding onto the small amount of courage he’d scrounged up from within. “All I can see are little black holes with no life in ’em.”

“You . . .” She made an odd squeak like someone holding back tears. “If it weren’t for you, things would be so different. I could’ve stopped Chu and used his technology for good. I wouldn’t be scarred and hideous from head to toe. Do you have any idea how hard it is to lead when people can’t even glance at you? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to look like a monster? And if it weren’t for you, the Blade would’ve functioned perfectly, and we’d be on our way to a Utopian Reality. But no, you’ve ruined everything. You’ve ruined my . . .”

She stopped and shook her head slightly. “No. I won’t say that. You’ve made things difficult—no doubt about it. But you haven’t ruined everything. You haven’t ruined my life. Do you know why, Atticus? Because I won’t give up. I’ll overcome it all, and in the end, I . . . will . . . win. I promise you.”

Tick momentarily lost every bit of hatred for the woman. Every bit of frustration and angst. The only thing he felt was pity. And the familiar pang of guilt for what he’d done to her.

“Mistress Jane,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did in Chu’s building. I promise I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

“You’re sorry, you promise, you swear. Too little, too late, as they say.” She started to turn from him.

Tick reached out and grabbed a fold of her robe. She spun and knocked his hand away, glaring at him. “Don’t . . . touch . . . me!”

Tick stepped back, trying to shrink into the wall behind him. A spark of Chi’karda flared inside him, but he pushed it away. Something about that tall staff gripped in her hand terrified him. Plus, this was no time to battle her—he had to win her over.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, trying to throw as much humility into his voice as possible.

Jane touched the top edge of her staff to Tick’s head, then pulled it back. “I’m not a fool, Atticus. I’ll listen to what you have to say. But first, you will come and see the Factory. I want you to see my gift to science. I want you to see me change the world.”

And with that, she turned away and set off down the tunnel.

Chapter 45

Splitting Up

One second, Lisa had been sitting on the cold, hard floor of the magical nowhere place, Kayla gripped in her arms. The next, she felt a tingle shoot down her back, and their surroundings changed completely. From light to dark, from vast and open to close quarters. She sat on something soft. Kayla was still in her lap, Mom on her left, Dad on her right.

“We’re home,” her dad said, squirming to stand up. “We’re home!”

Lisa knew he was right before he’d said it the second time. The faintest glimmer of dawn—or twilight?—shone through the curtains of their living room windows. She saw the worn-out armchair her mom always sat in to wait for them after school, the piano, the crooked arrangement of family photos on the wall.

Dad stood in the middle of the room, slowly turning with his arms outstretched like that lady in the wildflower-strewn mountain field in The Sound of Music. Though he looked a lot more ridiculous. Lisa laughed, which sent Kayla into a fit of giggles.

“I think we’ve officially had the strangest day in the history of our family,” Mom said, leaning back on the sofa with her arms folded, smiling at Dad. “But I have to say, I’m a little offended that whoever is in charge doesn’t think we could help out in this fight of theirs.”

Dad toppled a bit, obviously having grown dizzy. He collapsed into the armchair, its springs groaning in complaint. “Come on, dear. We’re not cut out for that stuff. Especially with Kayla and Lisa to think about. Let the Realitants do their job—and I’m sure Tick’ll be home safe and sound before we know it.”

Lisa agreed about Kayla, but felt a little swell of self-

defense spring up inside her. “Hey, speak for yourself, Dad. I could’ve helped Sato. Put me in a room with this Mistress Jane witch, and I’ll show her what bony knees and sharp nails I have.”

Mom reached over and squeezed Lisa’s knee. “That’s my girl. Maybe old Master George will be knocking on our door for you once this is over.” She looked down at the floor, her smile fading. Then she seemed to catch herself and brought it back, returning her gaze to Lisa.

“What, Mom?” Lisa said. “What’s wrong?”