James Dashner - The Journal of Curious Letters

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

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

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.”