“Thank you for sharing, dear,” Windasill said, patting her husband on the arm. “’Eard it a thousand times, I ’ave, but I marvel at your courage every time. Never forget you saved your mum that day, dear. Never forget.”
“Wish I could’ve met Grandpa,” Mothball said, a choking clog in her voice. “But ’tweren’t for you, Daddy, I wouldn’t’ve spent me whole childhood with Grandma. Thanks be to ya, Daddy. Thanks be to ya very much.”
Sato was stunned. He’d expected a story more along the lines of a fairy tale, maybe a funny or an embarrassing moment. But Tollaseat had just shared probably the most terrifying, pivotal moment of his life. And Sato had absolutely no idea what to say. He stared at his plate, feeling the heavy weight of all the food he’d eaten.
“Right cheerful, don’t ya think?” Tollaseat said, a smile breaking through the gloom on his face. “Not quite sure why I told that story. Meant to tell somethin’ else, I did. But it just popped out of me mouth.”
“Important we remember,” Mothball offered, giving her mom an uncomfortable look.
“Yes, me sweet,” Tollaseat replied. “Reckon I wanted Master Sato ’ere to understand why them Bugs aren’t just a joke, even though they look it. Crazy, they are. Vicious little rats. But underestimate ’em, and you’ll be lookin’ up at ten feet of dirt soon, you will. Be wary while you’re about these parts, is all I’m sayin’.”
Sato merely nodded, still unable to speak. He didn’t know why, exactly, but that story had touched him, made his heart ache with sorrow. And then it hit him why.
Sato, too, had seen his father killed right in front of him. Burned to death by Mistress Jane’s flying flames. Maybe that was worse than seeing your dad stabbed by a sword. Maybe not. It didn’t matter. Something came over him in that moment.
He stood up. “Mister, um, Master . . . Tollaseat?”
Mothball’s dad lowered his pipe, looked at Sato with dark eyes, and Sato somehow knew the old man had already figured out what he was about to say.
“I want to help,” Sato said, trying to sound like an adult and hoping no one laughed. “I want to help your people fight the Bugs.”
Chapter 18
Towers of Red
Tick,” Master George whispered. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. And do me a favor.”
Jane had brought them to a room several levels above the prison cell in which they’d been held captive. She’d left a couple of guards at the door. The creatures in full armor were human in shape but all comparisons ended there. Tick hadn’t gotten a good look, but he swore he saw horns or tusks coming out of their shadow-hidden faces and large bulges on their backs.
“What?” Tick asked.
In response, Master George handed him a small, metal tube.
“What’s this?”
“What do you think?”
Tick looked over at Paul and Sofia, hoping they were listening. But both of them were trying to look through a grime-covered window. “Is it a message for somebody?”
“Precisely,” George whispered.
“For who?” Tick asked. “And what do you want me to do?”
“It’s a message for Sally. It’s short, but he should get the point. I want him to gather the Realitants so they’ll be ready on a moment’s notice. For what, I have no idea—but he needs to get them to headquarters straightaway.”
That made perfect sense to Tick, but he had a bad feeling about this all the same. “And . . . what does that have to do with me?”
Master George looked at him, his eyes shifting slightly back and forth. “Well, er, well, I need you to . . . wink it to Sally.”
“What?” Tick rasped, way too loudly.
Sofia noticed. “What are you guys talking about over there?”
“Never you mind,” Master George answered, surprisingly harsh.
Sofia, of course, completely ignored him and walked over, dragging Paul with her. “No secrets, boss. What’s going on?”
Tick couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Master George look so perplexed. His face was red, eyes darting around the room, sweat trickling down his temples. “Someone’s going to hear us!” he exclaimed in a half-shout, half-whisper.
Tick didn’t like it that Master George had asked him to use his power in the first place. Only a half an hour ago, Jane had threatened to kill his family one by one if she sensed him using Chi’karda. “How am I supposed to wink the message? Even if I could, even if I had a clue how to do it, I can’t risk Jane finding out.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Master George said, throwing all the frustration he could into the last word. “But perhaps you can risk it when she’s . . . occupied with whatever she has planned. If we don’t gather the other Realitants to help us, it may all be quite moot anyway.”
Tick slid the message tube into his pocket. The old Brit was being coy, but Tick knew exactly what he was really trying to say. “So you think it’s okay to sacrifice my family for the greater good. Let them die if it’ll save the world. Worlds. Whatever.” Tick couldn’t believe how bitter he sounded. To make it worse, Master George had a point. But not one Tick could accept.
For the hundredth time, he felt an overwhelming, gloomy sorrow squeeze his chest and lungs. His sisters. His mom and dad. Jane had them. No matter what, he had to save them. No matter what.
But how?
“Tick?” Sofia asked, jolting him back to reality. “You okay? What does he want you to do?”
“We need to stop talking about this,” Master George said. “Right now!”
“Dude,” Paul said, “what are you two freaks talking about?”
Tick looked at him and shook his head. “It’s nothing—George just wants to get a message to Sally.” He turned his attention back to Master George. “Don’t you have a way of talking to him? Through your nanolocator or something?”
Master George shook his head. “I think she’s done something to us. Shielded us somehow. I’ve tried making contact several times. Nothing.”
“Since when is Sally in charge?” Paul asked. “Rutger finally explode or something?”
“Maybe he ate one of his own Ragers,” Sofia added.
By the looks of it, Master George was not amused. He turned his back to the three of them and walked over to a corner.