“And maybe it made her more powerful, too,” Sofia added. “Maybe she somehow kept the powers of Chu’s weapon. How else could she have winked into your basement and winked us all here?”
“Huh?” Tick asked. “How do you know she did it? Not someone with a Barrier Wand?”
Sofia pointed in front of her as if Jane were standing there. “Because I was staring at her the whole time. As soon as you quit trying to do whatever you were doing with your orange hocus-pocus stuff, she reached out with her hands and swept them through the air, like she was picking up a big pile of leaves and throwing them. Then I felt the tingle, and next thing I know, we’re here.”
“What were you doing to her, anyway?” Paul asked.
The question hit Tick like a thump in his chest. He hesitated, not knowing what to say.
“Hello?” Paul pushed. “Earth calling Atticus Higgin-bottom.”
Tick shifted to get more comfortable. “I don’t know, man. It’s hard enough to understand it in my brain, much less explain it to you guys.”
“Well, try,” Sofia said. “If we can help you figure out these freaky powers of yours, we might get out of here someday.”
Freaky powers, Tick thought. Did she have to say it that way? After a long pause, he cleared his throat and resolved to tell them everything. “Every time I’ve had an . . . episode, I feel this heat in my chest and gut, something burning inside me. I’ve been able to push it down a couple times recently and make it go away.”
“Hey,” Paul said, “at least that’s progress over what you did at Chu’s shack. Maybe you’re learning to control it.”
Tick nodded. “Maybe. Anyway, in my basement, I kind of panicked when Jane started talking, and when the heat came, I didn’t stop it. I . . . encouraged it, tried to hold onto it, make it grow. It was like I had these mental hands, trying to clasp invisible fingers around an invisible . . . something. I don’t know—I can’t describe it. It took a lot of focus and concentration. Then, I just mentally threw it at her. I guess I attacked her just by thinking it and wanting it.”
Paul and Sofia stared at him, apparently at a loss for words, a minor miracle with those two.
“Anyway,” Tick continued, “it felt really good. I still think I’m a long way from controlling it anytime I want to, but this was about a billion times better than what happened a few months ago. Back then it was like somebody had ripped my spirit out of my body, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“What is the power?” Paul asked. “I mean, you’re doing some crazy stuff here, dude.”
“It’s Chi’karda, brainiac,” Sofia answered. “We know that much. For some reason Tick has a ton of it.”
Paul shook his head. “I know it’s Chi’karda—at least, that’s what Master Georgie boy over there thinks.” He pointed to the snoozing man, who looked a little ridiculous all dressed up in a prison cell. “But what does that mean?”
“What do you mean, what does it mean?” Sofia said.
“I mean, what does it mean?”
Sofia blew out a loud breath. “I don’t know what it means.”
“Man,” Tick said, “we are really making progress here.”
They stayed quiet for awhile, and then Sofia broke the silence. “Well, we can leave the science side of it to Master George and the Realitants. We just need to help you learn how to control it so we can use it. As a weapon.”
“Yeah,” Paul agreed. “How about right now? I don’t think I’m up for hanging around here much longer.”
Weapon. For some reason that word gave Tick the chills. He didn’t want to think of himself as a potential killing device. “It doesn’t matter right now. I can’t feel anything, not even a flicker.”
“Maybe you need to be ticked off,” Paul said. “Here, let me kick you in the—”
“I’m good, thanks.” Tick scooted away.
“Just start thinking about stuff,” Sofia suggested. “Think about Jane and what she’s done to us and how we’re sitting in this prison. Think about your . . .” She didn’t finish, looking at the ground as if she’d just confessed something horrible.
Tick felt tears glisten his eyes. “You were going to say sisters. Think about my sisters.”
Sofia looked up at him, then nodded.
“Maybe that’s why I’m so empty,” Tick said, hearing the gloom in his own voice. “She threatened to hurt them if I try anything, so my subconscious won’t even let me get close to trying.”
“Man,” Paul said, “guess we shouldn’t expect you to, then. Too risky.”
“What are we going to do?” Sofia pleaded.
Master George stirred to their right, grunting as he rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position. He let out a huge yawn while rubbing his eyes. “Goodness gracious me, how long have I been sleeping?”
“Couple hours,” Tick said.
“I had the strangest dream,” the leader of the Realitants said in a groggy voice. “I was in your basement, Master Atticus, and I saw a person in a big rabbit suit. It was a very creepy bunny. Quite disturbing. I woke up just as the person started to take off his head. What I would give to have seen the face beneath the mask.”
“It’s symbolic,” Sofia said. “Jane wears a mask now. I’m sure it’s her you would’ve seen.”
“Uh, what about the whole bunny thing?” Paul asked with a slight snicker.
“Well,” Master George began, clearing his throat, embarrassed. “I was, er, a bit frightened of bunnies as a child.”
Tick shocked himself when he laughed out loud. So did Paul.
“Poke fun if you must,” Master George countered, though he had a smile on his face. “You try falling into a cage filled with a dozen hungry rabbits and see how—”
A loud metal clang cut him off, and they all turned to see the iron-grilled door to their cell swing open. Standing behind it in the hallway was Mistress Jane, still dressed in her yellow robe and her expressionless red mask. There was a cart next to her, loaded with several plates of steaming food.
“My, you all look cozy,” she said. “I’ve brought you something to eat. I can’t have you starving to death before our big plans come to fruition.” She pushed the cart into the cell then swung the heavy door shut again. Its clanking ring echoed like some haunted musical instrument.