The 13th Reality, Volume 3: The Blade of Shattered Hope

by James Dashner

  Instead of being taken aback, Rutger nodded, as if in approval. As if he were proud of his own son standing up here. This annoyed Sato greatly.

  Next to Rutger were the Higginbottoms—Mom and Dad, Lisa and Kayla—the four of them having not separated an inch since being reunited. Of all the things that worried Sato about what was coming up, Tick’s family was Number One. They obviously couldn’t fight—not with Kayla to care for. They protested, of course, when Sato had pointed that out earlier, but even then it was halfhearted. Their first priority had to be keeping Kayla safe, and going to off to battle wasn’t the best way to do that. But Sato didn’t know what else to do with them.

  He realized he was staring at the family; Mr. Higgin-bottom tentatively waved at him. Sato shook his head slightly and tried to save himself by smiling. Okay, he thought, I have to get on with this.

  He returned his attention to the waiting rows of Fifths. “I guess it’s time for my big motivational speech. We could be winked away from here at any second to the Thirteenth Reality, where very dangerous stuff is going to happen. I hope you’re all a little more aware of things like winking and other worlds by now—I know Mothball and her family have been around talking to you all about it. Well, none of that matters much. All we need to care about is that we’re going to a bad place, and we need to save some good people and a lot of children.”

  He was relieved to hear a low rumble of positive responses—“Yeah,” and “Let’s get ’em,” and “Ruddy ready, we are”—along with vigorous nods and shaking of fists. These really were a warrior people—Sato would never doubt it again. How the Bugaboos had lasted this long against them, he had no idea. Of course, they came from the same stock, he supposed . . .

  “We’ve got no weapons!” someone shouted from the back, breaking into his thoughts. Then another person called out, “Don’t even know who we’re ruddy fighting! Or what!”

  Instinct told Sato what he needed to say in response. If their confidence was going to be solidified, it needed to come from within. “Good questions! So, are you saying we should give up? Not even try? Throw in the towel?”

  A chorus of angry denials thundered through the vast space, a deafening roar backed by red faces and pumping fists. Some even stood, looking as if they might charge Sato and wallop him for even suggesting such a thing.

  “No, I didn’t think so!” he yelled as loud as he possibly could. The Fifths quieted. “We’ll fight with our hands and our feet, with sticks and stones! We’ll fight with our elbows and knees! Whatever it takes!”

  A shocked silence greeted this last part. Mothball finally said from her spot, “A bit much, but I like your spirit, I do.” A few chuckles rose from the crowd.

  Sato would have none of it. “I don’t care if it’s a bit much. If you guys wanna take this as a joke and treat me like a little kid, then fine! But we don’t have weapons, so we have to be willing to do terrible things to stop the terrible things we’re about to see! Are you willing or not?”

  Impossibly, the chorus that greeted him was even stronger than before, piercing his eardrums with a needle of sharp pain. The roar went on and on, and this time every single Fifth stood up, arms raised to the sky, shouting and screaming. Sato let it go on, looking around with a stoic face, accepting their display of devotion.

  When it started to die down naturally, he lit into them again. “When this is over, when we’ve gone to the Thirteenth and rescued our friends, when we’ve destroyed this unnatural and evil factory of creatures, we won’t stop. We’ll go back to your world, we’ll gather more people—the greatest army the world has ever seen—and we’ll wipe the Bugaboos from existence!”

  More shouts, more cheers. Sato kept going, trying with all his might to increase the volume of his already strained voice.

  “We are the Fifth Army! Say it with me! The Fifth Army!”

  He raised a fist to the sky and screamed the words, ripping his throat to pieces. “The Fifth Army! The Fifth Army! The Fifth Army!” His soldiers shouted the words along with him, a sound so loud it seemed to shake the strange floor upon which they stood.

  Sato stopped, knowing he’d need his voice in the hours to come. The others didn’t quit, however, and kept chanting as if they never planned to stop.

  Rutger stepped to Sato’s side. “Nice work. Now what?”

  “Now we wait for the call,” Sato said. “It’s coming, and when it does, we’ll be ready.”

  ~

  Lisa watched the pep rally with mixed feelings—a whole barrage of them.

  Her parents sat to either side of her, Kayla in her lap, the four present members of the Higginbottom clan clasped in an awkward but wonderful hug. Despite having everything in their world turned upside down, Lisa felt safe at the moment. But deep down she knew the feeling was fleeting, and there were a thousand and one things to worry about.

  Sato’s speech had really shocked her. He’d seemed quiet for one thing, and then to suddenly stand in front of this crowd of human giants and speak so loudly and convincingly was quite a thing to see. She thought his speech was a little bit on the cheesy side with a few roll-the-eye moments, but that’s what you needed for something like this. Overall, very impressive.

  But still.

  What could they do? What could a few hundred people—even tall, gangly, gimme-some-blood warrior giants—do against this psycho lady Mistress Jane? And more importantly—personally, selfishly—what was going to happen to Lisa and her family? They couldn’t go to this Thirteenth Reality place and fight. The idea was ridiculous. She almost laughed at the picture of herself running around like a chimpanzee trying to jump on bad guys and, what—bite their ears?

  Plus, there was Kayla to think about. Lisa and her parents had already decided that the battles and the mysteries and the monsters should be left to the Realitants—including her own brother, Tick. For the rest of the Higginbottoms, staying away from danger and protecting Kayla was all that mattered. They couldn’t do much else, anyway.

  Could they?

  Lisa hugged Kayla a little tighter to her chest.

  ~

  The Haunce floated in eternity.

  The Haunce floated in the spaces between the spaces, in the darkness between the light, the light between the darkness. It floated in the smallest of the small and the largest of the large. It was everywhere and nowhere, up and down, left and right, big and small.

  The Haunce floated and watched, its countless soulikens observing and communicating on a scale no individual human could ever understand.

  The lull in the catastrophe Jane had started was almost over. The slipping and cracking and shattering of the Barriers would resume soon. And then it wouldn’t stop until all was lost.

  Atticus had reached Jane. They were together in the Factory.

  It was time.

  The Haunce floated—and watched.

  Then it acted.

  First, remembering the most human of emotions—compassion—it sent the family of Atticus back to their home. There, they would be safe, as long as everything went according to plan.

  Once done with that—a thing that took less than a nanosecond of time—the Haunce winked Sato and his makeshift army to the Thirteenth Reality.

  Part 4

  Chi’karda’s Power

  Chapter

  44

  ~

  Talking with the Devil

  Tick and his two friends followed Mistress Jane down a long tunnel dug into the bedrock beneath ground, the hissing flames of the firekelt the only sound and light. No one spoke, no one asked questions, no one made any threats against anyone’s life. Tick rattled his thoughts with each step, trying to come up with the best way to talk to Jane about what needed to happen and to convince her that they needed to put their heads and powers together to stop the Realities from imploding.

  But he didn’t know what to say or do. Was he supposed to wait for the Haunce to show up? He sure hoped so, because he didn’t have the first clue how to go about things.r />
  They turned a corner around a jagged edge of dark stone, Jane and her fiery creation a step ahead of them. But Tick stopped. He felt and heard the same womping sound he’d experienced back in the woods near his home, right before finding Jane in his basement. Right before this whole mess started.

  Womp.

  There it was again—a faint but definite pulse of energy, the vibration of horns and bees.

  Womp.

  Paul and Sofia took another couple of steps before noticing he’d quit walking.

  “What’s wrong?” Sofia asked.

  Jane noticed as well, turning around to face them. She tilted her wooden staff forward as though about to strike him with some magical spell. The wavering splashes of light from the dancing firekelt flames turned her red mask the hue of wet blood.

  Womp.

  “Why have you stopped?” the robed tyrant asked in her painful, raspy voice. “Don’t even think of trying anything—there’s more Chi’karda coiled inside this Barrier Staff than you’ve seen in all your prior glimpses combined. I programmed it especially for you, Atticus Higginbottom. It’s set to unleash its fury on you the second you even breathe a wisp of the power.”

  Womp.

  Tick felt each and every energy pulse like a wall of water crashing over him. “I just . . . I just keep feeling surges of Chi’karda. Why?” He ignored her threat about her Barrier Staff; they had bigger problems to solve before he could worry about himself.

  Jane hesitated, her mask void of expression, probably mulling over whether he was being sincere or trying to trick her. Finally, she said, “You and I are very sensitive to the ripples of energy triggered by Chi’karda, Atticus. I think it’s something you picked up since growing more in tune with the power inside you. Get used to it, or it’ll drive you crazy. Especially in the Factory, where it’s constantly churning. Now come on—I want to show you something.”

  Womp. This time the pulse did feel a little more distant, like a constant breeze that he’d grown accustomed to. Or maybe more like breathing—you realize it’s happening only when you think about it.

  “Jane . . .” Tick began, wanting to bring up the subject of his mission and get it over with. But the words lodged somewhere down his throat.

  “You will call me Mistress Jane,” she said with a flare of anger on her mask. “After the horrible things you’ve done to me, I would think you could at least find a smattering of respect for your elders. For your superiors.”

  Tick didn’t care about his pride anymore. He didn’t even feel an ounce of fear for this woman. The only thing that mattered—that throbbed in his mind like a beating heart—was what the Haunce wanted him to do.

  “I’m sorry. Mistress Jane. Whatever. We’ll do whatever it is you want us to, and we’ll see whatever it is you want us to see, but we need to talk first. Something really bad is about to happen, and I . . . we . . . need your help.”

  Jane’s face melted into a slight frown, a look of curiosity on her mask. She took a few steps toward him. “I can tell you’re not lying. What are you talking about?”

  Her response surprised Tick, and something told him that the only reason she didn’t fly off the handle was because she already suspected the truth. He played for that angle. “You have to know that things really went screwy when you tried to destroy the Fifth Reality with your dark matter Blade of Shattered Hope. Well, things are worse than you think. A lot worse. You made the Barriers unstable and ignited a whole bunch of bad stuff that’s gonna end up wiping us all away. We have only a few hours until we’ll all be dead—thanks to you.”

  Jane didn’t answer for a long time, her eyes concentrating on Tick, her hand gripping the odd staff. Tick wondered if maybe it just looked like wood but was actually something else. She’d called it a Barrier Staff . . .

  She finally spoke. “How could you know these things, Atticus? What kind of trick—”

  “It’s not a trick!” Tick yelled. “You’re supposed to be the grown-up here! Act like it! The Haunce rescued me from you—and it told me all this stuff. Your Blade of Shattered Hope did something really bad to the Realities, and we have one chance to fix it.”

  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 firs
t, 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.”