James Dashner - The Journal of Curious Letters

With each passing day May sixth grew closer and closer and Tick became more dejected, moping around like an old man searching for his lost soul in an Edgar Allan Poe story. He just didn’t get it-he was smart. He’d always thought he was way smarter than anyone his own age, and many who were older. Yet for some reason he couldn’t figure out those stupid magic words! Paul and Sofia did it, why couldn’t he?

As Tick opened the last letter, hoping against hope it somehow held the final link to the magic words, he thought again about how odd it was that Master George traveled around the world to mail his messages. And how Mothball and Rutger got around the world so quickly. It had to be something magical, and Tick sure hoped he’d find out all about it in three days.

He pulled out the white cardstock. The last clue. Scared to death he’d finish it and be no better off than before, he almost reluctantly read its words:

Everything you need to determine the magic words is in the first letter. Quit struggling so much and read them, won’t you? Listen to the words of Master George-they’ve been there all along! This is the last clue. I shall never see or speak to you again. Unless I do. Good-bye, and may the Realities have mercy on you.

Tick slumped down on his bed, groaning out loud. It seemed like the last few clues had been a complete…

Wait a minute.

He sat back up and put the paper in his lap, reading through the clue again. Had Master George made a mistake while typing it? The second sentence made no sense.

Quit struggling so much and read them, won’t you?

Read them? Why would he say them when referring to the first letter he’d sent out? There’d been only one piece of paper in that original envelope, so why would he use the plural word them when telling Tick to read it? The first letter…

Tick stopped. He felt like the Earth had stopped spinning and the air had frozen around him in an invisible block of ice; his mind and spirit seemed to step out of his body and turn around to look at him, not believing he could’ve missed something so obvious.

The first letter.

He grabbed his journal, ripping it open to find the clue that had first revealed he needed to discover magic words to say on May sixth. It had been the second clue, telling him that at the appointed time, he would need to say the words with his eyes closed. Master George couldn’t tell him what the words were, but the last sentence told him how he could figure it out himself:

Examine the first letter carefully and you will work them out.

Old M.G. had been purposefully tricky with his language to throw his readers off the trail. When Tick read that clue the first time, his mind had immediately interpreted it as referring to the very first letter he’d received in the mail from Master George. And once that had been set in his mind, he’d never even considered the possibility of a different meaning. But what the mysterious man really meant was something entirely different.

The first letter.

Not the first envelope. Not the first paper. Not the first message.

The first letter.

M.G. meant that Tick needed to literally examine the first letter of something. And only one possibility made sense. Even though some of the Twelve Clues had not seemed like clues at all, Master George had been very clear.

Everything is a clue.

His blood racing through his veins like he’d just done windsprints, setting his heart into a thumpity-thump that he could feel and hear in his ears, Tick went through his Journal of Curious Letters page by page, clue by clue. He kept a finger on the last page of the dusty old book, flipping back there after seeing each of the twelve riddles in turn, jotting down a letter then going back again.

One by one, Tick wrote down the first letter of each clue, twelve letters in all. When he finished, he sat back and stared at the result, wanting to laugh and cry and scream at the same time.

M A S T E R G E O R G E

Tick took his journal downstairs with him, eager to e-mail Sofia and Paul and let them know he’d finally- finally — figured it out. He placed his precious book on the desk and quickly logged in and sent off the messages, his excitement building by the second. He couldn’t wait until his dad got home from work so he could tell him, too.

It’s all in place now, he thought. Just three days and it’s really going to happen!

Of course, he didn’t know what “it” was, but that was beside the point.

Tick stood up from the computer desk and stretched, suddenly happier than he’d been in weeks. He felt stupid for all the jealous feelings he’d had toward his new friends and the whole thing in general; he’d acted like a little baby, at least within his own mind.

But that was all in the past, now. Three days.

So bottled up with energy he could hardly stand it, he decided to run over to the library and hang out like he didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe he’d check out a book and read it as a reward. He’d probably have just enough time to finish it before the Big Day came. He told his mom he’d be back in time for dinner and headed out the door.

Halfway to the library, the sun finally breaking through the storm clouds that had hung over the world all day, he realized he’d left his journal sitting on the computer desk back home and wondered if he should go back and put it away. No, I won’t be gone that long. As he ran on, he hoped he didn’t look as ridiculously happy as he felt.

Kayla noticed the ugly old book sitting on the computer desk, wondering where it had come from. It looked like something from her favorite Disney cartoon. Maybe it was a book of pirate treasure maps! She was a very young girl, but she knew one thing for certain.

Pirate treasure maps equal fun.

She looked around to make sure no one was around, then grabbed the book from the desk, pulling it down onto her lap as she sat on the floor. Words were written in a little box in the center of the cover, but she recognized the first one right away.

Tick.

Uh-oh, she thought. He doesn’t like me to mess with his things.

Well, just a peek couldn’t hurt, could it?

She opened the book up and flipped through the pages, seeing lots of pieces of paper that had been glued to the ones already there. No pirate maps though. Maybe this was an art project her brother had been putting together as a surprise for her, though it wasn’t very pretty. All it had were a bunch of words that looked funny.

Kayla quickly grew bored, sad the book didn’t have anything to do with pirates. She was flipping through it one last time when one of the pieces of paper slipped into the air like it had been shot out of a cannon and dropped to the floor in front of her. She picked it up and saw that this one had more words than any of the others-a lot more.

The glue must’ve cracked, letting the boring old paper escape.

Well, Kayla thought, now I’m in a pickle. Her mom wouldn’t let her use glue without a grown-up around and if she asked for help, her mom might be mad that she’d broken Tick’s book. Plus, she couldn’t remember exactly where the piece of paper had been inside the book.

Maybe, just maybe, Tick wouldn’t notice it was missing since so many other papers were glued throughout. And if she just stuck it somewhere or threw it away, he might find it and then he’d know for sure she’d been messing with his stuff.

Kayla put the book back on the desk, then clutched the loose paper in her hands. With devious eyes, she looked over at the fireplace, focusing on the little knob that started up the gas and flame.

It’d been awhile since she’d had fun with fire…