The Blade of Shattered Hope

Chapter 22

Terror. Panic. Fear.

Those were words Lisa associated with disaster movies and scary books. News stories of dangerous lands thousands of miles away. History lessons of wars past. In her sixteen-and-a-half years of life, she’d never considered that one day those words might describe part of her own life, her own experience. Though she tried to be brave for her sister, she couldn’t keep herself from crying every few minutes. Kayla’s tears were a constant.

They’d been in the small room for at least a full day, maybe longer. Sparsely decorated, it held only two hard wooden chairs and a small bed with a table and lamp next to it. Drab wallpaper covered the walls, and ugly brown carpet covered the floor. There were no windows.

She had no idea how they’d gotten there. She’d been sleeping in her bed, dreaming about something icy crawling down her back, and then she woke up in this room, lying on the floor with Kayla right next to her. Since then, food had been brought to them by cruel ladies who refused to answer any of her questions and who glared at the two girls as if she and Kayla were hardened criminals.

Kidnapped, imprisoned, hated for no reason. It was all terrifying. The worst part was not knowing anything. She and Kayla mostly huddled together on the bed, hugging and consoling, sharing their tears. Lisa had no idea how many times she’d said the words, “It’ll be okay,” but it had to be at least one hundred.

She knew this had something to do with her brother. No one had told Lisa anything directly, but she knew about the Realitants and how Tick was special to them, helping them in some way. And somehow it had all led to this.

Come save us, Tick, she thought. I know you got us into this mess. Now come get us out!

Someone knocked hard on the door, just once, then opened it. Lisa had already started scooting as far away from the door as possible, dragging Kayla with her to the other side of the bed.

It was the older of the two ladies, her gray hair pulled into a tight bun, her pale face full of hard-lined wrinkles. “Might wanna see this,” she said gruffly. Then she opened the door wider and stepped to the side, nodding toward the hallway.

“See what?” Lisa asked warily. “You want us to come out there?”

The old woman let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes. Come on, I’m trying to be nice, you little ingrate. Such a historic moment-wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

Lisa squeezed Kayla’s arms, then moved to get up from the bed.

“No!” Kayla shouted.

“It’ll be okay,” Lisa said softly, taking her sister by the hand. She hated saying those words again. “Come on.”

Kayla looked up at her with moist eyes, then slowly slid off the bed and followed Lisa, their hands still clasped. They walked to the doorway and into the hall. From there, the woman led them down a set of stairs and into a living room that was as ugly as the rest of the house, all dull colors and boring furniture. Several other ladies were sitting on chairs and a worn-out sofa. Every pair of eyes was glued to a television set on a small table.

When Lisa saw and heard what was coming from the TV, she almost forgot how terrified she’d been just moments earlier. It was a news program, a man’s tight voice narrating as the view switched from one scene of destruction to the next.

Fires. People trapped under cement, bloody and crying. Sirens. Shaky film of a large building, the horrendous crashing sounds booming from the television speakers when the structure crumbled to the ground. A massive car wreck. Smoke everywhere.

At first, Lisa was too shocked to read the words flashing across the bottom of the screen or hear exactly what the reporter was saying. But then she focused. The scrolling words accompanying the images made it clear the disasters were happening in different parts of the world. Paris. London. Berlin. Moscow.

Wait, she thought. Those cities were all in Europe and spread apart by hundreds and hundreds of miles. What could possibly be happening?

“The earthquakes are still rumbling as we speak,” the reporter was saying. “They’ve already shattered all known records in terms of length of time, and they still continue, as you can tell from the shaky video footage. All of Europe and Asia seem to be affected by these quakes. Mass panic is spreading out of control.”

Lisa felt an entirely new fear grip her. It made what she’d been feeling back in that prison of a room seem silly. That fear had been about just her and Kayla, trapped in a room, but otherwise safe and sound. This was something else. And whatever it was that was happening, Lisa knew the world would never be the same.

“What’s going on?” Kayla asked, her small voice breaking Lisa’s heart.

“I don’t know, sweetie. I don’t know.”

The last word had barely left her mouth when the lights suddenly went out. The TV made a popping sound as the screen went black. Kayla screamed, and the ladies in the room started bustling about in the darkness, each of them calling out things that jumbled into a chorus of panicked nonsense.

The room started to vibrate.

The floor trembled.

And then the house shook like someone had picked it up and thrown it.

Tick couldn’t take it anymore. He had to do something.

As the black tree hummed and throbbed its pulses of energy, as people ran about adjusting computers, as Mistress Jane stood completely still, her expressionless mask pointed at the tree, as Paul and Sofia and Master George fidgeted in their chairs, Tick leaned forward, closed his eyes, and searched once again for the flame of his Chi’karda.

With mental hands, he probed and picked and prodded.

There it was-a puff of heat.

He found it much more quickly this time. Encouraged, he threw all his thought and concentration into the warmth, grasping it, tensing his body as he imagined himself enveloped in the heat, consumed by it. Once again, he had no real clue what he was doing, but he did it anyway. Somehow, with his mind and heart, he became one with the Chi’karda. He felt it spread through his organs and veins and skin. Felt himself burn.

Ordering the power to stay, to wait, to hold, he opened his eyes.

Everything was as it was before, except for one small change. He saw things more clearly, more crisply. He heard sounds more distinctly, each one somehow separated from the other, each one crystal clear. He sensed vibrations in the air, particularly from the black tree, its power tickling across his skin with every throb.

He looked at Jane standing in front of the tree, probably throwing her powers into the Blade of Shattered Hope, maybe even close to flicking the final switch and severing the Fifth Reality. Tick turned his gaze back to the black tree. Its darkness was so deep, its edges so finely detailed, he had a hard time believing his own eyes. His vision had gone beyond anything he thought possible-maybe this was what they called four-dimensional sight. Maybe five or six. Maybe infinity.

None of it mattered. He had to act. He’d convinced himself of this without realizing when or how, but he had to try. His family would be safe. He’d make sure of it. He’d do whatever it took.

Focusing as deeply as possible on the trunk of the black tree, he imagined a pinhole in the imaginary barrier he’d created within him. With his eyes wide and his hands gripping his knees, he released the slightest bit of pent up Chi’karda. He felt an almost untraceable amount of heat leave his body.

A trickle, nothing more.

And not knowing what else to do, he focused all of his thoughts into one distinct line of words, saying them over and over in his mind, projecting them at the same spot where he’d aimed the Chi’karda.

Stop the Blade. Stop the Blade. Stop the Blade.

Sato ran, though he fell down with every fourth or fifth lunging leap forward.

The others did the same, stumbling and bumbling about like they’d just been granted the gifts of legs and were trying to figure out how to make them work. Rutger was having the hardest time of it. Sato swore he actually saw Rutger roll forward like a ball a few times.

Mothball stayed by her friend’s side, helping him along as best she could. Tollaseat and Windasill worked together, pushing and pulling and balancing each other. Sato was on his own. He kept his head down and ran.

The earthquake continued to rage, shaking the entire world and everything on it. Crashes and clangs and breaking glass sounded like small explosions. The air reeked of sulfur and gas and burning wood. Screams came from every direction, from young and old, male and female.

And even though neither Sato nor anyone else knew where they were running to, there didn’t seem to be any choice. You ran from terror, and that was that.

A booming crackle sounded to his left, splitting the air just as he caught a flash of bright light on the edge of his vision. He snapped his head around, but it was too late. The light was gone. It had been like a bolt of lightning.

Another one exploded in front of him. He barely had time to register the jagged line of brilliant white before he closed his eyes, hoping he wasn’t blinded for life. Electric thunder rocked the air and shook the ground. Sato fell on his face and rolled three times, feeling rocks bruise and batter his body.

Another lightning strike, somewhere to his right. Another one way behind him. Each one was an explosion of light and energy and sound.

He got to his hands and knees, searching the area for his friends. He caught sight of Mothball sprawled across Rutger, scrambling to get up. No sign of her parents.

Sato stood up, lurching back and forth as the land continued to shake and tremble violently. Lightning was striking everywhere, long, crooked bolts of white fire hitting the ground in quick flashes instantaneously with the world-crushing sound. He held his hands up to his ears, wondering if he’d ever be able to see or hear again.

A brief pause in the lightning storm was as sudden as it was welcome. Sato squinted against the bright blurs of afterimages obscuring his vision as he headed toward Mothball. He had taken a few steps before he realized something very strange. The screams had stopped. So had the yelling and crying.

In disbelief, he scanned the area, shocked that he couldn’t see anyone. Nobody. Nowhere. Only Mothball and Rutger. Where had everyone else gone?

He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell something to Mothball. “What’s-”

A massive bolt of lightning shot from the sky, landing exactly on top of his two friends.

Sato threw his arm up to block the light, then looked as soon as it was gone. Barely able to see, he ran desperately toward the spot.

But even with his burned-out vision, he could tell Mothball and Rutger weren’t there. They were gone. Completely gone.

Not even charred remains or blackened, smoking skeletons were left behind. And, oddly enough, the grass wasn’t burning or even disturbed as far as he could tell. It was as if his two friends had just disappeared.

Maybe they’ve been winked away, he thought with an unexpected rise of jubilation. Maybe someone had saved them at the last second. In his present state of shock and panic, the idea didn’t seem so far-fetched. Anything was possible, right?

As if in answer to his question, the world around him suddenly turned white, a blanketing sea of complete and utter brilliance that engulfed his body even as the air singed with burning heat.

Sato felt his body erupt in flames.