James Dashner - The Blade of Shattered Hope

Then he remembered those psycho people dressed up like clowns and fighting each other with swords. The big stone wall and locked iron gate. Maybe life here wasn’t so blissful after all.

“Which one’s yours?” Sato asked. “And where is everybody?” He’d yet to see one other person.

Mothball absently pointed somewhere up ahead. “Just a bit farther. And most folks are off to town, doin’ their jobs and such. Thems that ain’t are havin’ afternoon tea in their parlor, I ’spect.”

“I don’t think my feet will ever forgive you,” Rutger said through heavy breaths. “We need to bury a bunch of dead people in your backyard so we can wink straight there next time.”

“Mayhaps we’ll start with you,” Mothball replied.

Rutger barked a fake laugh. “Well, the way my heart’s beating, you just might be right! I’ve probably lost ten pounds already.”

“Walk another few weeks straight, and maybe you can fit through me mum’s door without me kickin’ ya in the ruddy bottoms.” She laughed, a rolling stutter of thunder that lifted Sato’s spirits even more.

“You guys are the weirdest best friends I’ve ever met,” Sato said. “Maybe you should just go ahead and get married.”

“Married?” Mothball roared. “What, and have little monster babies with my ugly face on little balls of fat? Methinks I’d rather marry a horse.”

“Feeling’s mutual!” Rutger countered.

“Would eat a lot less, that’s for sure,” Mothball murmured.

“And wouldn’t complain at your incessant gibbering!”

“Smell better, too.”

“You know what they say-sometimes a husband and wife look like brother and sister. You and a horse-well, perfect!”

Mothball scratched her chin, acting like she couldn’t hear him. “There’d be horse patties lyin’ ’round about me flat. Might get a bit messy.”

“Okay, this is getting creepy,” Sato interjected. “Where’s your house?”

Mothball stopped, then threw her arms up and clapped once as she looked at the large home to their right. “Well, bite me buttons, here we are!”

The house and yard looked a lot like the others, though the front door was pink. Mothball’s proclamation had barely ended when the door swung open and a gigantic woman with a huge mop of curly black hair on her head came rushing out to greet them. Her clothes were the same style as Mothball’s-loose, dull colors, hanging off her skin-and-bones body like drying laundry. Or maybe dying laundry.

“Me love!” the lady yelled as she ran down the stone steps, all gangly legs and arms making her look as if she might collapse into a heap of sticks at any second. “Oh, me sweet, sweet love! Been ’specting you, we ’ave!”

She reached Mothball, and they squeezed each other tightly, circling around, both of them crying. Sato looked away, uncomfortable at intruding on something intimate and personal. When they finally let go of each other, Mothball pointed straight at him.

“This here’s Master Sato,” she said proudly. “And, of course you know Rutger, me best friend.”

“Ah, yes, yes,” her tall mom replied, the enormous smile she’d worn since opening the door still there. Sato noticed her teeth were just as crooked as her daughter’s, but much whiter. “So good to see you again, Rutger. And you, Sato, welcome. My name is Windasill, and I’m so happy to say we’ve finally met. I’ve been waiting for months.”

“Really?” Sato said, surprised.

“Of course.” She looked at Mothball, a slight look of confusion on her face. “You didn’t tell him?”

Mothball shrugged, clearly embarrassed.

Sato couldn’t imagine what was going on. “Tell me? What didn’t you tell me?”

Instead of answering, Mothball nodded at her mom.

Windasill grinned again and curtsied-quite the display from someone so big. “You do look just like him, I must say. A wee bit shorter’s all.” Then, inexplicably, she started crying, the stifled sobs accompanied by tears streaming out of her eyes.

Now he was beyond confused. “What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

Rutger answered for them. “Sato, you’re the Alterant of Grand Minister Sato Tadashi, who was the supreme ruler of this entire world-in this Reality anyway.”

“ Was? ” Sato repeated, not knowing how to react to the strange revelation.

Mothball’s mom answered, right after spitting on the ground. “Bugaboos killed him last month, they did, just weeks after he took office. Sacrificed hundreds of blokes to break through security and get to him. He was the most respected leader we’ve had in ages, despite being so young. Gone and dead now.”

“Why… why’d they kill him?” Sato asked. He had an uncomfortable feeling this was leading somewhere he wouldn’t like. Mothball’s answer confirmed it.

“They thought he was you.”

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

That was all Tick could hear, and it was driving him crazy. The others were asleep, and even though the soft sighs and snores of their slumber floated through the air, all his mind could focus on was that stupid dripping water.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Everything had happened so fast after Jane revealed that she’d kidnapped his sisters, Lisa and Kayla. The news shocked every bit of surging power out of him, and he’d collapsed to the floor in defeat, knowing he couldn’t take the risk she might be lying. He couldn’t risk their lives. Not them.

As soon as he’d given up, Jane had winked them all away. He didn’t know how she did it, or who helped her, but one instant they’d been in his basement, and the next they were here, in some kind of cell made of gray stone, damp and cold and dark, with that maddening drip of water as a constant companion. The only light was faint, coming from somewhere down a long hallway outside the bars of their prison.

They’d been there for hours and hours. Every question in the world had been asked, every nook and cranny of the room examined, and they had shouted and screamed for help until their voices went hoarse. Then exhaustion crept in, and now everyone was asleep.

Except Tick. He huddled with his back against the hard, cold wall, his arms wrapped around his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. He felt empty, like his mind and heart had become a complete void of space, sucking every last bit of strength and will away. Jane had his sisters-but who knew where or how or why. And he was here, with his mom and dad, his two best friends, and the leader of the Realitants, all of them captured and helpless.

He’d tried several times to summon even the smallest trace of the power he’d felt against Jane in the basement of his house, but nothing came. Just emptiness. He floated in a void. A yucky, blecky, hopeless void.

“Tick?”

The voice startled him. He put his hands down to the ground, ready to spring to his feet. But a second later he realized it was Sofia, just a few feet from him, lying down with her head resting on her folded arms. She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked at him. He could barely see the features of her face, but they didn’t look as sad as he would’ve expected.

“Still here,” he replied. “Did you actually fall asleep?”

She yawned in response. “Think so. Had a bad dream.”

“I wish this were a bad dream.”

“Yeah.”

“Dude, I finally snooze and you guys wake me up.” Paul was getting to his feet, rubbing his eyes. He made his way over to sit next to Tick and Sofia. “You think the geezer and your mom and dad are actually sleeping?”

“I hope so,” Tick said. “They’re old-they need it.”

“Actually,” Sofia whispered, “the younger you are, the more sleep you need. Just for the record.”