The Journal of Curious Letters 1r-1

by James Dashner

  “Then how did-”

  “SILENCE!” Jane had endured this stupid man for quite long enough. “Leave me. I don’t want to see you for a very long time.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Jane watched him get to his feet and shuffle away, murmuring incessantly his thanks for her gracious decision to let him live. He was lucky-losing the Wand was a major loss; its parts and mechanisms were equally as important as the Chi’karda Drive itself-but she had much more important things flying through the recesses of her brilliant mind.

  How had they done it? How had they manipulated the Chi’karda powerfully enough without the Drive? And in the heart of her personal fortress at that? Did it have something to do with the twisted version of the mysterious force that existed in the Thirteenth Reality? Jane tapped a sharp fingernail against her lips, thinking.

  Did one of those bratty kids have some kind of special power over the Chi’karda? Many questions indeed.

  The implications were vast, the possibilities endless.

  Despite the setback, Mistress Jane smiled.

  To any outside observer, it would have seemed as though Tick and his friends had just won the Super Bowl, the World Series, and the NBA Championship in one fell swoop. Having been through so much, and after having hundreds of creepy yellow fangen within inches of tearing them to pieces, winking away to complete safety seemed reason enough to jump up and down, screaming and hugging and cheering and then to start all over again.

  “What took you so long!” Paul yelled, whacking Tick on the back with a huge smile on his face.

  “I was trying to decide if I wanted to take you or leave you behind,” Tick replied, grinning.

  They celebrated inside a room very similar to the one they’d left in the Bermuda Triangle, though a much smaller version-a couple of couches, a chair, a cold brick fireplace. A single window was placed directly across from the fireplace, and it looked out upon a dry palette of colors-oranges, reds, browns.

  Tick brought his giddiness back to reason and walked over to get a better look at the view. Beyond their room was a huge drop-off that led to a brown strip of river far below. Sheer walls of striated rock rose up from the valley on all sides, stretching in all directions as far as Tick could see. This was the satellite location Master George had said he’d send them to?

  It was a canyon. No, it was the canyon.

  “Are we inside the Grand Canyon?” he asked to no one in particular.

  “That we are,” Mothball answered. “This big crack’s brimming over with Chi’karda, it is.”

  “Then where are Master George and Rutger?” Sofia asked.

  A fallen mood filled the room like a sluggish oil spill, and no one said a word.

  ~

  Master George worked furiously on his Barrier Wand, welding and wiring and hammering. He and Rutger had managed to repel the attack from Mistress Jane with an odd assortment of weapons, but not before the creatures had smashed his Wand in half with an axe. At least they’d missed severing the Chi’karda Drive.

  Knowing his deadline to pull the Realitants out of the Thirteenth Reality was only a couple of hours away, he wiped the sweat off his brow and doubled his efforts.

  “Master George!” Rutger yelled from the other room, followed by the quick series of heavy thumps that always marked the little man running on his short legs.

  “What is it, Rutger?” Master George asked, annoyed. “Can’t you see I’m under considerable duress?”

  His friend stopped in the doorway, panting like he’d just run three miles. “Master George!”

  “Speak, man, and be quick about it!”

  “The nanolocators… Mothball, Tick… everyone-they winked to our station at the Canyon!”

  His old friend’s news made Master George regret the harshness of his words. “That’s wonderful, Rutger! Wonderful, indeed!” He went back to work on the Wand, very encouraged indeed.

  Three hours after Tick and the others arrived at the Grand Canyon-three long and boring but happy hours-Master George and Rutger suddenly appeared by the fireplace without any warning, disheveled and dirty, but faces beaming.

  Tick didn’t know how to react; he felt shocked, relieved, elated, confused. He jumped up from the couch, his emotions swirling from all the highs and lows he’d felt since he’d awakened that morning. Mistress Jane’s Barrier Wand lay on the couch next to him and he picked it up, excited to show Master George, who was already talking a mile a minute.

  “I can hardly believe my eyes, old chaps! You did it, you really did it, indeed! I couldn’t be more delighted if Muffintops bore twelve kittens this very instant. Why, I-” He stopped, catching sight of the now-filthy and battered Wand in Tick’s hands. “Master Atticus, I simply knew you were up to the task. Congratulations to all of you.” He focused on the Wand, holding his hands out timidly. “May I, er, see it?”

  Tick handed over the golden cylinder, glad to be rid of it.

  As soon as Master George took it in his hands, he frowned, his brow crinkling in confusion. “Why, it’s so… light. Has Mistress Jane altered the construction somehow?” He turned the Wand over and unscrewed the bottom until it popped off. He then held the now-open cylinder up to his eye like a telescope, closing his other eye as he examined its insides.

  Master George dropped the Wand to his side, a look of complete bewilderment on his face.

  “What’s the matter?” Mothball asked. “Look like a mum what’s lost her kiddies, ya do.”

  Master George looked at Tick, dark thunderclouds gathering in his eyes.

  “What?” Tick asked, taking a step back.

  “Have you taken any pieces out of this Wand?” Master George asked, his tone accusatory.

  “Huh?” Tick looked over at Sofia, then Paul. Both of them shrugged their shoulders. “No. I didn’t even know you could open it up.”

  Master George looked like he didn’t believe him. “Young man, you are telling me you used this Barrier Wand to wink yourself and these good people to this place?”

  “Um… yes, sir,” Tick stammered, worried he was in serious trouble.

  Master George harrumphed and paced around the room, mumbling to himself, throwing his arms up in frustration as if he were in a great argument. He looked like a gorilla on a rampage.

  “What in the name of Reality Prime’s wrong with ya, Master George?” Mothball asked.

  Master George stopped, turning sharply to face the group. “My dear fellow Realitants-because you are all most certainly full-fledged members now-you have all witnessed something that could very well change the Realities forever. Tick, my good man, have you ever had anything remarkable happen before in your life? Something quite… miraculous, if you will?”

  “Why? What do you mean?” Tick thought of the incident with the letter from Master George that Kayla had burned, and its magical return as though it had never happened. But he didn’t want to say anything about it, feeling suddenly very embarrassed and confused.

  “I don’t know what I mean, actually,” Master George said. “But you’ve just done something that defies logic.”

  “What are you talking about?” Paul asked. “What did Tick do?”

  Master George held up the Barrier Wand for everyone to look at. “This Wand is missing its Chi’karda Drive.” He paused, waiting for a response, as if he’d just revealed a mystery recipe stolen from the Keebler elves, but only Mothball and Rutger reacted, exchanging a startled glance with each other before turning to stare at Tick.

  “Good people, this thing is completely useless without the Drive. It cannot work without the Drive. Better off using a turnip to wink between Realities.”

  Tick was stunned, his mind on the cusp of realizing what had happened, but resisting its huge implications.

  “Then how did Tick make it work?” Sofia asked.

  “I have no idea! All I know is that the only way he could’ve winked here is by a deliberate control of Chi’karda the
likes of which I’ve never seen in my life.”

  Master George walked over to Tick, put a hand on his shoulder.

  “You, sir, are a walking enigma. This changes everything.”

  Chapter 51

  Homecoming

  The next day and a half were a complete blur for Tick. Mothball broke the news of Annika’s death to Master George and Rutger, neither of whom bothered trying to hide their emotions, weeping like children on each others’ shoulders. Not much was said after that, except that Annika’s courage in sacrificing her life to steal the Barrier Wand would never be forgotten. Tick hadn’t known her at all, but he still felt sad she was gone.

  As for how Tick had winked them away to safety, no one understood what had happened, least of all Master George. He kept saying that the amount of conviction Tick had channeled, the sheer energy of his desire to wink himself and the others back to Reality Prime should’ve killed him. It must’ve been such an unusual display of Chi’karda that the instruments back in the Triangle didn’t know how to measure it or surely Rutger would’ve noticed an anomaly.

  Eventually, everyone grew tired of so many questions without answers, and looked ahead to what came next.

  Going home.

  Master George said that even though Mistress Jane had kept her Chi’karda Drive, it was useless without the Wand casing. It would take her several months to build a new Barrier Wand capable of using its power. For now, she-and her newfound dark and twisted magic-were trapped within the Thirteenth Reality. The new Realitants’ successful mission had bought them considerable time, time which Master George needed to repair his headquarters, plan for the future, and think about the potential meaning of Tick’s unexplained ability.

  As young as the Realitants were, with worried families, Master George thought it best that they return to their homes, explain their futures, and continue their studies-all until such time came that Master George needed them again.

  And need them he would, he assured them over and over.

  And so late that night, Tick, Sofia, Sato, and Paul stood in a circle by the roaring fire-Master George loved fires, even in the middle of the desert in summer-with Master George and his two assistants, Mothball and Rutger. Everyone was silent, the reality of saying good-bye a heavy weight on their hearts.

  As for Tick, he felt like his soul hurt. Though he’d only known these people a short time, the experiences they’d been through had solidified them as the very best friends he’d ever had. He felt excited to see his family, but dreaded the thought of going to bed tonight, alone in his room, not knowing how long it might be before he’d see any of the Realitants again. It took every ounce of will in his bones to keep from crying.

  “Sato, my young friend,” Master George said, finally breaking the somber silence. “I’d like to invite you to stay with us, to help us at the Triangle. These others have families to return to, but, er, well-I think you’d likely agree that joining us at headquarters may be in your best interest. Your, er, guardians will barely notice you’re gone, I expect.”

  Tick looked at Sato, shocked. The quiet boy from Japan hadn’t said much since their return from the Thirteenth Reality.

  Sato looked up, trying to hide the relief on his face, but failing. “I will stay.” He looked at Tick, then the others, as if he wanted desperately to say something. Instead, he folded his arms and looked away.

  Tick’s whole perception of Sato changed in that instant. What mysteries are hidden inside that brain of his?

  “We’ll be simply delighted to have your help,” Master George said. “Now, then, it’s almost time to wink everyone back to their homes. But first, I have something to give all of you.” He reached into the folds of his suit and pulled out a handful of thin gold-link chains, a heavy pendant swinging from each one. “These will forever mark you as official and bonafide Realitants.”

  Tick stared at the shiny gold ornament as Master George placed the chain over his head like he’d just won an Olympic medal. Tick studied the object hanging on his chain, bringing it close to his eyes for a better look. It was a miniature replica of a Barrier Wand, dials and all, solid and heavy.

  “Be sure and wear them under your shirts,” Master George said as he stepped back in front of the group. “No need to go around advertising you’re a member of the most important society in the world. Plenty of enemies about.”

  As Tick tucked the Wand pendant under his scarf and shirt, feeling the cold hardness warm up against his skin, Rutger began passing out small pieces of thick paper to each of the kids. “These are your official membership cards, so don’t lose them.”

  Tick accepted his, a stiff brown card that simply said, “Atticus Higginbottom, Realitant Second Class.”

  “Whoa,” Paul said. “No one will mess with us now. I’ll just whip this puppy out and they’ll run like scared dogs.”

  “Very funny, young man,” Rutger said, folding his chubby arms. “You just be sure and hold onto your Wand pendant and that card-you’ve earned them both.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Master George said. “And now, we must really let you be on your way. Atticus, your name begins with an A, so let’s send you off first.”

  Tick’s stomach leaped into his throat. “Um, okay.” He stepped forward.

  “Wait a second,” Paul said. “We need a send-off to pump us up.” He held his hand out to the middle of the circle.

  Tick joined him, then Sato, then Rutger, and Mothball. Master George chuckled and put his hand out, too. Rolling her eyes, Sofia finally did as well.

  “Go Realitants!” Paul yelled. He groaned at everyone else’s half-hearted attempt. “You guys need more team spirit.”

  “Please tell me we don’t have to do that every time,” Sofia muttered.

  “Yeah,” Tick agreed. “I think I’m with Sofia on that.”

  Paul looked devastated. “She’s corrupted you.”

  Tick shrugged. “It is kind of corny.” He paused, grinning. “Dude.”

  Master George cleared his throat. “Time to be off. Atticus, step up here, please.”

  Tick did so, adjusting the tattered and soppy scarf that clung to his neck like a frightened ferret. Mothball began the good-byes.

  “Best of luck, little sir,” she said, leaning down to give him a quick hug. “Get a little older and I’ll be bringin’ ya a nice tall girlfriend from the Fifth, I will. Better than a short fat one from the Eleventh, don’t ya think?” She winked and stepped back.

  “See ya, big guy,” Rutger said, reaching up to pat Tick on the elbow. “Sorry about all the rock-throwing.”

  Tick laughed. “No problem.”

  “Later, dude,” Paul said next. “See ya on the e-mail.”

  “Definitely.”

  Tick turned to Sato, who reached out and shook Tick’s hand.

  “Thank you,” Sato said. “Next time I will save your life.”

  “There’s a good plan,” Tick replied with a smile. He turned to face Sofia.

  She looked at him, her eyes revealing that she was trying to think of a smart-aleck remark. She finally gave up and pulled Tick into a hug, squeezing tightly. “E-mail me,” she said. “Tonight.”

  Tick awkwardly patted her on the back. “Remember our bet-you have to come visit me in America. And I want some more free spaghetti sauce, too.”

  “Count on it.” She pulled away, not bothering to hide her tears.

  Tick turned to face Master George again, relieved the good-byes were over.

  “Master Atticus, my dear friend,” the old man said, his ruddy face beaming with a smile. “Your family will be so proud of you, as well they should. Quite a puzzlement you’ve given us to figure out, I must say. Busy, busy we’ll be.”

  Tick nodded, not knowing what to say.

  “Very good, then.” Master George held up the Barrier Wand, having already set the controls. “Put your hand on the Wand. There we are.”

  “Bye everybody,” Tick said, closing his eyes, hurting inside.

  Mast
er George had one final thing to say, though, whispering in Tick’s ear. “Atticus, never forget the inherent power of the Chi’karda. Never forget the power of your choices, for good or for ill. And most importantly, never forget your courage.”

  Before Tick could reply, he heard a click.

  He felt the now-familiar tingle.

  Then came the sounds of birds and wind.

  Edgar Higginbottom sat on his favorite chair next to the window, staring at the floor, wringing his hands together as he wondered for the millionth time what had happened to Tick. He’s lucky, Edgar kept telling himself. All those times as a kid-something’s protecting him. He’ll be fine.

  But it had been almost four full days since the boy vanished, and the worry ate at Edgar’s heart like a hideous disease. Lorena was no better; they could barely look at each other without bursting into tears. Even Lisa was worried.

  And yet Edgar knew it had been the right thing to do. Somehow, someway, he knew. Atticus Higginbottom was out saving the world, and when he was done, he’d come back home, ready for a new game of Football 3000. But when-

  Edgar heard someone shouting outside. A kid’s voice. Tick’s voice.

  He looked up, his heart swelling to dangerous sizes when he saw Tick running down the street toward the house. For a second, Edgar couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, practically choking as he tried to yell for his wife. It was him. It was really him!

  “Lorena!” Edgar finally managed to scream, squirming to get his big body out of the chair. “Lorena! Tick’s back! I told you he’d be back!” He found himself laughing, then crying, then laughing again as he ran for the front door.

  Lorena thumped down the stairs, faster than he’d ever seen her move in his life. Kayla and Lisa bolted out of the kitchen, eyes wide in surprise.

  “He’s really here?” Lorena asked, her hand on her heart as if she didn’t dare hope Edgar had been telling the truth.

  “He’s back, he’s back!” Edgar yelled with delight as he ripped open the door and ran outside.