The Blade of Shattered Hope

by James Dashner

  15

  ~

  The Twelfth Blade

  Frazier Gunn stared down at the twelfth Alterant of Mistress Jane.

  She was huge. And she was the last of them.

  This one had been living a normal life in a small village in the Fifth Reality, where quirks of evolution, diet, and climactic factors had led to an unusually large race of humans. He guessed the woman sitting in front of him, now safely chained to the twisty black stone of the twelfth Blade component, had to be almost eight feet tall, and skinny— like she’d eaten nothing but lettuce her whole life. Crooked teeth, no makeup, stringy black hair.

  And yet, even then, she was beautiful. Despite the tears streaming down her face, despite the constant begging, despite the disgusting way she wrung her hands and wiped snot from her nose with her fingers, she was beautiful to him. Maybe it was just the resemblance to Jane. He hadn’t seen her in days and missed her terribly. Maybe it was his longing for how she’d looked before the terrible Atticus Higginbottom incident. Maybe it was a lot of things.

  But he was wasting time. He had to get back to the Thirteenth.

  “Please,” the woman whimpered for the thousandth time since being dragged from her garden. With her size and surprising strength, Frazier had been forced to use the Stunning Rod Jane had created for him, jolting the Alterant every so often to remind her to cooperate. It’d been a long and grueling trip. But nothing could dampen his spirits now—it was over. The hardest mission of his life was finally over.

  Now the exciting part would begin.

  “Please don’t leave me here,” the Alterant said between loud sniffs. “I ’ave children, I do. Me husband’s away. None to take care of the wee ones.”

  Frazier leaned over, looking her square in the eyes. “Please be quiet.” He dropped a pack of food and water at her feet then straightened and turned to walk away, moving as quickly as he could so he wouldn’t have to hear her wailing pleas for help. He knew he should’ve told her what a good cause she was participating in, how eventually great things would come from Jane’s plan with the Blade of Shattered Hope. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too tired to speak anymore.

  He topped a rise and quickly went down the deep slope. The woman’s screeching, painful cries finally faded into the background. Capturing her had been the worst by far, maybe because she was the only one who hadn’t had some kind of criminal or shady background. Of course, the pitiful lady didn’t know this, but she had very good reason to feel such hopeless desperation.

  Of the twelve Alterants of Mistress Jane, this one in the Fifth would be the only one to die. Well, this time around, anyway.

  ~

  Mistress Jane stood at her favorite spot in the entire Lemon Fortress—maybe her favorite spot in all of the Realities. The open window of her room overlooked countless miles of forests, fields of green grass and wildflowers, and the snowcapped mountains in the distance. The beauty of it was overwhelming, even as seen through the eyeholes of her mask.

  Normally she’d take it off, but she expected Frazier to report at any minute. And despite several months having passed since her entire body had been scorched and mutilated by Higginbottom, she had yet to let anyone see her true self—only her hands, so they’d know something horrible had happened. But she was still too ashamed, too embarrassed to reveal any other part of her now-hideous body. Especially her face. A face that had once, she thought proudly, been very, very beautiful.

  A face that now looked like the scarred surface of a planet too close to a boiling sun.

  At least the pain had subsided somewhat. With her increased powers over Chi’karda, she’d spent many days experimenting until she’d finally been able to manipulate her nervous system, a complex network of seemingly infinite human “wires.” In the beginning she could only reduce the pain when she concentrated, focusing in deep meditation. But as the weeks passed, she’d come to learn to do it on instinct, and life had become much sweeter. More conducive to fulfilling her long-awaited plans.

  But, unfortunately, she was still a long way from changing her appearance. For now, she had to settle for the robe and the mask to hide herself from the world, even from her closest friends.

  Friends, with an “s” at the end? She was being far too generous. Only one person in all the Realities considered her a friend—Frazier.

  Speaking of the devil, she heard a knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she said, sending out a wave of Chi’karda to dissolve the door, something she’d done a thousand times—much more satisfying than merely pulling it open, and a task that was much easier now with her supercharged abilities over the realm of physics.

  She looked over from where she stood next to the window, and after Frazier had stepped through, she imagined the billions of tiny particles that made up the wood of the door coming back together. She pushed a mental surge in that direction, and with a buzzing swoosh, the door appeared as it had seconds before, unblemished and whole.

  With another mere thought, she made one of the eyebrows on her red metal mask arch upward. “Is it finished?”

  Frazier walked over, obviously trying his hardest not to smile, but it was there anyway, especially in his eyes. “Yes, Mistress. The twelfth one is in place, secured in the Fifth. All of them have nanolocators and monitoring devices injected within their bodies. The observation area is alive and chirping as we speak. All we need now is—”

  “I know what we need!” Jane snapped, flowing her mask into anger. “Honestly, Frazier, sometimes you act as if all this were your idea, your plan. Keep speaking to me like I’m some lowly wretch, and I’ll end your service to me—swiftly and painfully, I assure you. I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done for me.”

  She regretted the words even as they flew out of her mouth, hating the look of sincere and utter hurt that melted the poor man’s face. But they had to be said. Once again, Frazier had shown traces of . . . confidence. Too much of it. She couldn’t allow it. Confidence led to insubordination and betrayal. Always.

  “I’m sorry, Mistress,” Frazier muttered, his eyes downcast, his hands folded in front of him. “I’m only excited to see our—um, I mean, your plan—come to fruition.”

  There it was again, even after she’d rebuked him. Our plan—he’d actually said it! As much as it would hurt her, and as much as it would cause even more loneliness for her, she had to distance herself from him. Now more than ever.

  “Very well, Frazier. Have a seat.” She gestured toward the couch by the fireplace, then followed behind him until he sat down. She sat in the armchair directly across from him. The stone hearth to their right was dark and cold.

  Bringing her mask back to a smooth, calm expression, she crossed her legs under the loose folds of her robe, instinctively suppressing the pain with her power the instant she felt it. “Let’s be clear. All twelve of my Alterants are currently chained to the Blade devices, in each Reality, including Prime, within the specified ranges of the needed coordinates?”

  Frazier nodded, his face now pale. Ah, she thought. She had gone too far. When the man got too frightened, he became useless. Somehow she needed to learn how to hold back.

  “Are you certain they’re undisturbed?” she asked, trying to speak with a soothing voice. For all his tendency to fear her, he usually melted back to stupefied worship easily enough. “They’re all alive and well?”

  He only nodded again, but some of the color had returned to his face.

  “Any potential problems?”

  “Well, Mistress,” he said, croaking a bit on the last syl-lable. He cleared his throat. “The coordinates in each Reality were in pretty remote areas, except for two. Your Alterant in Prime is in a basement, and in the Seventh, in the bottom floor of a parking garage. I left a couple of Sleeks in each of those locations to guard against potential intruders. As long as we stay on schedule, we should be okay.”

  Mistress Jane nodded slowly, pleased. If Frazier was correct, all the pieces wer
e in place and everything else was up to her. All she needed was the Blade Tree, her witnesses, a quick wink to where she needed to go, and a few minutes of the most intense concentration she would ever embark upon.

  She stood from the chair and held a hand out to Frazier. “Then I think we’re ready to induce the Blade of Shattered Hope.”

  Frazier took her hand without the slightest hesitation, even though the hideous scars and melded chunks of gold were plainly evident. His touch warmed her, and the fact that he had no reservations or prejudice against her new nature . . .

  That meant something. She felt ashamed of how she’d treated him earlier.

  “Frazier,” she said, pulling him up from the couch so he stood in front of her, just inches away. Her mask flowed into the most sincere smile she could conjure up in her mind. “You’ll be by my side when we do this. Agreed?”

  A trickle of . . . something pricked her heart when she saw tears glisten his eyes.

  “Yes, Mistress,” he said. “I’d be more honored than words can say.”

  “Good. Then let’s go change the Realities once and for all.”

  Chapter

  16

  ~

  A Diabolical Plan

  When Tick woke up, his parents had disappeared from the prison cell.

  At first, he didn’t quite notice, his mind still numb from sleep. Almost absently, he scanned the dimly lit room from left to right, expecting them to be somewhere. Huddled in a corner, maybe. Or hidden behind Master George, Paul, or Sofia, still dozing. Veiled in a shadow to which his eyes hadn’t adjusted quite yet.

  But then it hit him. They were gone.

  His body jerked to full awareness like a bucket of water had been dumped on his head, and he jumped to his feet. “Where’s my mom and dad? Where’s my mom and dad!”

  The others stirred, his shouts waking them.

  “Huh?” Paul said groggily.

  Sofia was looking around the room, much like he’d done just moments earlier. Master George grunted as he got to his feet, also searching with his eyes.

  “Goodness gracious me,” he said. “Where could they have gone off to?”

  “We would’ve heard the door open,” Sofia said. “No way we could’ve missed that.”

  That familiar panicky feeling threatened to consume Tick. “Where could they be?” He ran over to the bars of the cell, gripped his hands around the cold iron. “Mom! Dad! Mooooom! Daaaaad!”

  First his sisters were taken, hidden in any one of who-knew-how-many horrible places. Now his parents were gone. “This can’t be happening,” he murmured, whispering it over and over. Then, “I’m gonna stop her. Once and for all, I’m gonna stop her.”

  “Calm down, Atticus,” Master George said, hurrying to his side and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Remember the whole point of why Jane took your sisters. To prevent you from doing anything reckless.”

  For the first time since they’d left the basement of his house, Tick felt the surging boil of Chi’karda within him, burning and growing. But he also knew that Master George was right—he couldn’t take a risk. Not now, not yet. Closing his eyes and concentrating with all his might, he pushed the power away, urged it to cool and dissolve.

  “Why would she have taken my parents?” he asked when he felt the episode was safely over. “Why now?”

  “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,” Paul said. He stepped up next to Tick and squeezed his arm. “Sorry, dude. Seriously, though, we’ll figure this out. We’ve been in worse shape, haven’t we? We’re like superheroes, man—we’ll win this time, too.”

  Sofia walked over and hugged Tick, squeezing him tightly. Surprised, it took him a second before he squeezed back.

  “Paul’s an idiot,” she said as she let go and stepped back. “And he never knows how to say anything. But he’s right. We’ll get your family back, don’t worry. There’s no way she’ll . . . hurt them. Then she’d have nothing to threaten you with. I think she’s terrified of you.”

  “Terrified?” a voice asked behind him.

  Tick spun around to see Mistress Jane standing in the hallway, her red mask glaring at them with eyebrows raised.

  “Where are they?” he shouted at her.

  “They are safe for now,” she replied, her face melting back into that non-expression she wore most of the time. “I decided there were too many of you to keep track of. Plus, your parents have been winked to a different location than where your sisters are. I now have double collateral to hang over your head. I sense even a spark of Chi’karda surge out of you, and one of them dies. On and on until they’re all dead. If something bad happens to me, they all die at once. I trust you’ll not test me on this.”

  Tick fumed more with every word that popped out of her mouth. It took all his concentration to keep the warmth from igniting to pure heat inside his chest. But he also felt a slight glimmer of hope. Based on what she’d said, it seemed like she couldn’t sense his surges of Chi’karda as long as he kept them at bay. Maybe, when the time was right, he could let the power build and build, unleashing it all in one powerful explosion before she could react or send a message to anyone.

  What am I thinking? he thought. I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I can’t control this stuff. It was just as likely he’d kill himself and his friends as it was he’d kill Jane.

  “I’ll take your silence as a sign that you understand the situation.” Jane’s arm shifted slightly, and the lock on the door sprung open with a loud click. The metal hinges groaned and squealed, and the door swung open. “And the same goes for any one of you. Try anything, and Tick’s family will suffer the consequences. If we run out of Higginbottoms, we’ll just have to do some hunting for Pacinis and Rogers. Or perhaps the tall ugly woman and her little pet, the ball of fat named Rutger. Do we all understand one another?”

  When no one responded, Jane’s scream pierced the air like a burst of thunder. “Answer me!”

  “Yes,” Tick said quickly, as did Paul and Sofia. The best she got out of Master George was a firm nod.

  Jane stepped through the door and into the cell, standing very close to Tick. “We will be winking to a specific location here in the Thirteenth. Frazier has set up several spinners and monitors so all of you can best witness what happens today. When it’s over, you’ll spread the word, and we can begin the process of my taking over the Realities and putting the Utopia Initiative into full swing.”

  Master George laughed, a slow, condescending chuckle. Tick braced himself for Jane’s reaction. He didn’t see what was funny. Though he didn’t know what she was talking about, her words had been like icy daggers scraping down his spine. She had something terrible planned, no doubt about it.

  But Jane didn’t explode with her usual anger. “Laugh all you want, George. Giggle, chortle, snicker, whatever pleases you most. A couple of hours from now, when you see what I do, you may never make such jolly sounds ever again. The Blade of Shattered Hope, George. Soulikens. Dark Matter. These are things you aren’t even close to understanding yet.”

  Master George’s face now showed no humor whatsoever. It burned red, almost as if he wore his own mask. “Words, Jane. Anyone can say fancy words, trying their best to sound smarter than others. You keep telling us you have this diabolical plan. Well, then, what is it?”

  Jane paused before answering, the corners of her metallic lips curving upward slightly. “I’m going to destroy the Fifth Reality.”

  Master George huffed. “Destroy it? What kind of nonsense is this? A mess of atomic bombs come across your path recently?”

  Jane’s mask turned a darker shade of red, something Tick hadn’t thought possible. However, her expression didn’t change. It was still set in that mocking half-smile. For a long time, she just stared at Master George.

  “Jane,” he finally said, “I worry your mind has slipped down a slope from which it can’t be saved.”

  “You mistake my silence, George,” Jane replied. “I’m surprised, actual
ly. I’m baffled that you could be so short-sighted. So . . . stupid.”

  “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you really not understand my power over Chi’karda? Even before my . . . union with the core of Dark Infinity, I almost had the ability to do what I plan for today. Now, it will be done with absolute certainty.”

  “Well,” Sofia chimed in, “quit talking about it and tell us what your big bad plan is.”

  Tick winced. She and Master George weren’t being smart about this. Couldn’t they see that Jane was deadly serious? Ticking her off even more was a very, very bad idea. But when Jane responded, her voice was as calm and collected as anything Tick had ever heard come out of her mouth.

  “The Blade of Shattered Hope will collect every souliken from my Alterants, channel them into the necessary components, and ignite the dark matter within. The Blade will then slice the Fifth Reality from existence. Forever.” She paused, then took a step forward. “Let me say it slowly for you, George. The Fifth will . . . be . . . no . . . more.”

  Chapter

  17

  ~

  Tale of the Iron Poker

  As Sato devoured his third helping of the duck dumpling stew, he realized he’d gone at least five minutes without thinking about the whole nonsense of his Alterant being the ruler of a Reality before being murdered. There is something about tasty food that tends to wash your troubles away. And Tollaseat’s food was, without hesitation or doubt, the most excellent stuff Sato had ever put in his mouth.

  “This is good,” he mumbled between bites, probably having said those three words a dozen times by now. “This is really good.”

  “Glad ya like it, I am.” Tollaseat leaned back in his chair and puffed on his pipe. He’d lit it after eating only one helping, and seemed to be enjoying every second of watching Sato eat like a starved hyena.

  “Quite good, it was,” Mothball pitched in, folding her arms and looking very satisfied.