James Dashner - The Blade of Shattered Hope

Sato stood to join her, wincing at the gasps of anticipation his action elicited from the crowd. “Okay, fine by me. Good luck with that.” He started through the crowd of Fifth citizens standing between him and his Realitant friends.

“You people listen up!” he heard Lisa shout from behind him. “Sato will be right back. He has to, um, go use the bathroom.”

Sato stopped for half a second, thinking, That is the best she can come up with? But then he pushed on, making his way toward Mothball and Rutger.

Tick did his best to explain what the Haunce had said about Sato and the others being taken to some kind of way station anomaly in the Realities for safekeeping. But it was kind of hard when he didn’t really understand it himself.

“What is this place?” Paul asked. “ Where is it?”

“I don’t know!” Tick practically shouted, though he toned it down to a rough whisper on the last word. They couldn’t risk Jane’s creations finding them yet. “All we care about is that they’re all safe-including my family, thank goodness-and that the Haunce is gonna move them very soon. Which is why I need to hurry. As soon as I get this note winked, we’ll have time to talk about stuff while we walk toward the Factory.” Annoyed, Tick pointed the flashlight in Paul’s face. “Okay?”

Paul reached out, flailing with his hands. “Alright, dude, get on with it!”

“Yes, Atticus,” Master George pitched in. “I’m very anxious to see what you’re about to do. Quite anxious indeed. And when we’re done, I’d love to hear more about this hideaway spot in the Realities you mentioned.”

Sofia reached out and lightly punched Tick in the arm. “We’ll leave you alone, now. Do your thing. I can’t wait to see it.”

Tick had a sudden rush of terror. He had no idea what he was about to do-or even where to begin. The Haunce had left him with some parting words of advice-mainly about envisioning a conduit between him and Sato and opening an imaginary slice through space and time. But mostly, he was supposed to sit back and let his power do its thing. He needed to believe in it and let the Chi’karda take his vision of need and manifest it for him.

His mind knew what it wanted. His heart did as well. He had all the power he needed, waiting for a spark to set it boiling. All the ingredients were there, even if he couldn’t lay out the scientific formulas on any chalkboard no matter how many times he tried. It was all there. The need, the ability, the power.

He just had to set it in motion.

He just had to believe.

“Tick, you waitin’ on something?” Paul asked.

Sofia shushed him. “Seriously, Paul, shut up!”

“Sorry,” he whispered.

Tick barely heard the exchange, but realized he was standing completely still, staring at some dark point in the distant woods. Giving his head a little shake, he knelt down on the ground, feeling the prick of a twig. Then he heard it snap, along with the crunch of leaves. He placed the flashlight on the ground, still lit, and brought the silver tube up with both hands to look at it, turning the thing slowly between his fingers.

Now or never, he told himself.

Now or never.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and urged a sea of calm to wash across his body. He thought back to his two main encounters with Chi’karda, the times when he’d actually been able to see it visually.

Sparkling, orange clouds of mist.

Heat.

Raging, burning heat.

Something flickered inside him. He’d found the spark. It grew, warming him from the inside out. Surprisingly, it didn’t terrify him. It felt more like comfort.

He squeezed his eyes tighter and threw all of his concentration into his thoughts. In the amoebas of darkness swirling there, he tried to form a picture of Sato. Different images kept flashing in his mind, different faces. Tick tried harder. The face of his friend wavered, then held. Unbelievably clear, it was like a photo had been implanted in his brain. Tick almost opened his eyes in shock.

But he controlled himself, focusing on keeping the picture clear. Sato. He thought of the silver tube, clearly told… who? — himself? maybe the Chi’karda itself-that he wanted that tube to dissolve into the quantum realm, travel through spacetime, and reach his friend.

The heat increased, forcing beads of sweat to break out all over his skin. He didn’t dare look, but he knew that misty swirls of orange were floating around his body, lighting the darkness of the forest with an eerie glow. He held onto that vision of Sato and onto the precise and clear thought of what he wanted to happen.

Then, not quite sure if he was doing the right thing, he formed words inside his mind.

The silver tube. To Sato. He waited. Now.

As a tingling wave sent goose bumps bursting out all over him, he felt the weight of the tube disappear from his hands. He heard Sofia and Paul gasp. Master George shrieked with excitement like an old woman. But Tick didn’t truly believe it until he opened his eyes and saw for himself.

The tube was gone.

The message had been sent.

Sato never thought he’d be so happy to see Rutger.

“Why, you look a little uncomfortable!” the short man shouted when Sato finally made it through the crowd to his Realitant friends and Mothball’s parents. “I was, uh, just about to come out there and rescue you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you were,” Sato muttered.

“They’ve all taken quite the likin’ to you, they ’ave,” Mothball said, an enormous grin revealing her big, yellow teeth.

Those two were enjoying this ridiculous scenario way too much, and it was really starting to annoy Sato. “What am I supposed to do? We’ve all been winked to this psycho place, and those people act like I’m gonna save them or something. Just because I look like their murdered leader. What am I supposed to do?”

Tollaseat and Windasill were holding hands, looking on with pinched up grimaces as if they were embarrassed by the whole affair. Tollaseat reached out-and down-to pat Sato on the shoulder. “There, there, little man. Don’t take it the wrong way, and don’t be feelin’ any pressure ’cause of this lot. We’re all a wee bit scared, and a familiar face gives a lift, it does. Even I’ll admit you seem like the natural person to take charge ’round these parts.”

Windasill laughed, a sound that held nothing but kindness-no hint of mockery or condescension. “Reckon I ruddy agree with me love on that one. Can’t you just pretend to lead a bit? Give ’em all a good talkin’ to? Bring ’em straight out of the doldrums, you would. I’d bet me own two ears on that.”

Sato knew he had to quit whining. Their problems were piling up by the minute, and An object appeared in front of his face-instantly, one second not there, the next second there-a small, elongated stretch of shining silver. He barely had time to see it or register what it was before the tube of metal fell. He reached out to catch it, but he didn’t move in time. The tube smacked onto the weird marble floor and bounced with a couple of clings and clangs before rolling several inches and coming to a rest next to Rutger’s foot.

No one moved for a couple of seconds. Sato could tell they were all staring at the mysterious-and magical-visitor just as he was. He finally gained his wits and leaned over to pick up the tube, turning it this way and that for the others to take a look.

Sato was about to ask what it was when Mothball blurted out, “That there’s one of them fancy message tubes from Master George.”

“Open it!” Rutger yelled, jumping up and down in excitement-maybe reaching a grand height of three millimeters off the ground. “I knew he’d find us! I knew it! Don’t you worry, we’ll be out of here…”