The Blade of Shattered Hope - Page 41/83

“Atticus,” the Haunce said. “We can feel your thoughts. We can feel your mind and see this dark path which you choose to walk. You must stop. Immediately. You do not understand even the slightest parcel of the whole.”

Tick was staring at the floor. He didn’t remember looking away from the Haunce, but he returned his gaze to the glowing entity at its words. He sensed some hope, maybe some redemption, in what it had said.

A young woman stared back at him, her face full of compassion. Tick wished desperately she could stay, that her face not change. But a few seconds later it slipped into an older man, the kind look not as reassuring on him.

“We are soulikens, Atticus,” the Haunce said. “Do you know what that means?”

Tick shook his head.

“We sense in your memories that you have recently come to understand the heart of the human body and how the power of electricity is vital to its life-giving properties. Without electricity, the heart would not pump. If the heart did not pump, blood would not flow. And if the blood did not flow, there would be no life.”

Tick nodded, surprised by this turn in the conversation, but intrigued.

“Most people do not understand that electricity is a natural phenomenon,” the Haunce continued. “Much of its uses are unknown and immeasurable to scientists. Similar to how Chi’karda is not understood by most quantum physicists in the Realities, except for those who have joined ranks with the Realitants. Electricity is the key. Electronic pulses. Electronic imprints. They intertwine with almost every function of your mind and body, creating permanent stamps in the fabric of Reality—of time and space—that represent the person from whence they came.”

The Haunce paused, and Tick realized if he moved one more inch forward, he’d fall out of his chair. After an interminable few seconds, the glowing pool of faces continued.

“That is what soulikens are, Atticus. They are your imprints on the universe, and they can never be erased. They pool together every second of your life, collecting and gathering and forming into something that is undeniably as much you as . . . you. That is what we are. We are the soulikens of billions of people, a bank of memories and thoughts and feelings. We give life to the spaces between the atoms and neutrons and electrons. We give life to the universe of quantum physics. We give life to Chi’karda.”

Tick stared at the morphing faces, completely and utterly engrossed in every word.

But then the faces frowned, the endless eyes filled with a deep sadness.

“What’s wrong?” Tick asked quickly.

The Haunce wiped away the frown, but it still looked unhappy. “It works both ways, Atticus. The Chi’karda also gives us life. One cannot exist without the other. Mistress Jane has severed the Realities from one another, destroying the bonds between them. And when the fragmenting begins, when all of Reality begins to fall to the lasting and eternal grip of entropy, so will we. Everything will end. Everything.”

Tick didn’t know how to respond. Impossibly, he almost felt as if his grief and worry for this collection of ghosts was as strong as his concern for his family. He was starting to understand that what Jane had done would not only kill all those living today, but also all those who had lived in the past. It would be a holocaust of all time and of all people, of all thoughts and ideas and memories. Everything would be wiped away into the oblivion of dark matter.

The Haunce spoke again, snapping him back to attention.

“But not all is lost.”

“What do you mean?” Tick asked.

“We believe there is someone who can save us. Save the Realities.”

Tick had the horrible feeling he already knew the answer, but he asked anyway. “Who?”

The Haunce glowed brightly. “You.”

Chapter 28

Come Together

Sato and Mothball stared at each other for what seemed like a full hour, eyes locked, eyebrows raised. She was filthy from head to toe, her hair hanging in ratty strings to her shoulders. Sato kept thinking she’d disappear any second, sure that he was having a hallucination. The staring became almost comical. Especially when she broke into a grin and simply said, “’Ello.”

Hearing her speak snapped Sato from his trance. “Mothball! What are you doing here? Where are we? What happened to everyone else?”

Mothball limped forward, eyeing Lisa as if she’d just noticed Tick’s sister was there. “No idea what’s ’appened. Felt like I’ve been nappin’ for a full week, just woke up, and ’ere I am in a ruddy place that can’t possibly exist. How long you been ’ere?”

Sato realized he had no clue. “I . . . don’t know. Maybe an hour? I wasn’t here very long before Lisa showed up. By the way, this is Tick’s sister.”

Mothball couldn’t hide her surprise. “What in the name of the Grand Minister is Tick’s wee little sis doin’ ’ere?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Lisa said in deadpan voice.

“So sorry,” she said quickly, holding out one of her gigantic hands. After Lisa shook it, Mothball continued. “Just surprised, is all. What are the ruddy chances of us meetin’ ’ere with you?”

Lisa shook her head. “You think you’re confused? Guess how I feel.”

Sato felt it too. Everything seemed to have gone completely insane. He turned in a circle, throwing his arms up to gesture at their strange surroundings. “Where could this possibly be? What is it? Why would the three of us—”

Before he could finish, that same humming noise vibrated through the air, this time coming from a spot directly in front of him. At the same time, a dark blue square of marble rotated on an unseen axis, completely turning over until what had been the bottom was now the top, though with dark-red squiggly lines scratched across its surface. As soon as the tile settled into place, a person appeared on the marble square, instantly flashing into existence.

It was Mothball’s mom, Windasill.

Sato swore right then he was done being surprised.

Mothball ran to her mom and pulled her into a massive hug as Windasill looked about in confusion.

“Don’t worry,” Mothball said after stepping back. “None of us know a ruddy thing, but thank the heavens we’re together. Mayhaps the old man’ll show up soon, he will.”

“It was so dreadful,” Windasill said after giving her daughter the kindest smile Sato thought he’d ever seen. “The shaking, the lightning. Last thing I remember, a bolt of energy came straight down on me head. Burned like the dickens, it did. Then it was dark, like sleep. I was barely aware. Next thing I know, I’m ’ere. Mothball, what’s going on, dear?”