“Why would they build a huge fence around dirt fields?” Sato asked Mothball, who walked beside him, mumbling about how time was a-wasting.
“Has to be a reason,” she answered. “Whoever it is been winkin’ us ’round like pinballs must know what they’re doin’. We’re in the right place, we are. I feel it in me bones. Just need to use them brains of ours.”
Sato knelt down and dug in the mud, throwing handfuls to the side. “Maybe your dad was right. Maybe it’s all underground, and there’s an entrance somewhere in here.”
“Can’t imagine they’d have to dig their way in every ruddy time,” Mothball said, but squatted down to help him. Soon they were a good two feet into the soft earth.
“I know a door wouldn’t be under here,” Sato said. “But if we hit a hard surface, at least we’ll know there’s a building underneath.”
He glanced up to wipe the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and stopped. The Fifth Army soldiers had spread out all over the place, following his example by digging in the ground. Sato rolled his eyes and got back to work. These people had gotten a little fanatical in their loyalty to him.
He was all the way to his elbows in greasy mud when the tips of his fingers finally brushed against a rough, hard surface. Spurred by adrenaline, he dug faster, throwing out huge chunks until he had cleared away several square inches of his discovery—a dark stone. Disappointed, he pulled out of the hole and sat back on his haunches.
“What’s bitten your buns?” Mothball asked, looking up from her own pathetic excavation.
“I thought I’d found something,” he muttered. “Something man-made. But it’s just a big, buried rock.”
“Must be a mighty big-un then. Looks like I’ve found me own slice of it.” She pointed toward the bottom of her hole.
Sato crawled over to her and looked down at the swath of bumpy, dark rock. His heartbeat picked up its pace. “You think maybe Jane’s built something down there made out of this stone? Wouldn’t surprise me, now that I think about it—her castle looks like it was made a thousand years ago. Why would her factory be any different?”
“Want us to keep diggin’ around, do ya?” Mothball asked, eyebrows raised.
Sato got to his feet and cupped his hands around his mouth to shout the order, even though his people were already doing it. His first word didn’t make it out of his mouth before the ground beneath him lurched, throwing him on his back. As he scrambled to regain his feet, the earth continued to shake, knocking him down again. Then again.
“Earthquake!” Mothball roared.
The ground moved and jostled and jumped. The world around Sato looked as if he was viewing it from a shaking camera, his vision blurry and bouncy. He concentrated on the ground directly below him, settling his feet into the mud so he could stand up and figure out what they should do. He balanced himself, holding his hands out as he slowly stood, swaying back and forth to avoid falling.
The soldiers of the Fifth appeared as if they were dancing, leaning to and fro, stumbling this way and that, falling into each other then away again. The quake increased in intensity, shaking everything. Sato couldn’t think of one reasonable order or command to shout. What did you do against Mother Nature?
An earsplitting crack fractured the air, like the sound of an entire mountain shattering. A jagged piece of dark stone erupted from the mud about forty feet in front of Sato, thrusting up from the ground like a primitive knife. One of the Fifths had been standing on the spot, and he rose twice his height into the air before tumbling off, a bloody gash on his left leg.
To Sato’s right, a huge gap in the ground opened up like the yawn of a sleeping giant; several soldiers screamed as they plummeted into the darkness below. More rocky pillars jutted up from the dirt, and more holes appeared out of nowhere, the crack of splitting stone like hammers on nails. All the while, the world shook and trembled. Still, Sato didn’t know what to do. Everything had gone to complete chaos, and he had no idea how to gain back control.
He’d barely noticed Mothball sliding away from him when he felt the ground disappear beneath his own feet. He fell into an abyss, an embarrassing squeal escaping his throat when he landed on top of his tall friend ten feet below. He heard her grunt as she pushed him off. He rolled across dark, wet stone, barely lit by the sky peeking through the long, jagged hole in the roof above them.
Something furry and strong grabbed both of his arms.
He shrieked again as it dragged him into the deeper darkness until he could see no more.
The tunnel was breaking apart, splits and cracks and rocks falling. Everything shook.
Tick had fallen on top of Paul, who grunted and squirmed to push him off. Sofia lay just a few feet from them, not moving. Somehow Jane still stood upright, using her Staff as a brace in one hand. She had her other hand raised, fingers outspread, and Tick realized she was using her powers to create a shield around them, the larger pieces of debris disintegrating before they hit anyone.
“Sofia!” Tick yelled over the sounds of splintering stone. “Are you okay?”
She moved, filling him with relief. When she turned to look at him, trying to smile to show she was okay, he noticed she had a long gash on her forehead—the guilty rock lay right next to her. She must’ve been hit before Jane had created the shield.
“Come on,” Tick said to Paul, grabbing him by the shirt. Losing balance with each movement, they managed to scoot their way to Sofia. Tick looked up at Jane. “This is what I was talking about! The Haunce said we had to work together to stop it!”
They bounced in the tunnel like they’d been thrown down a steep mountainside. Jane’s mask showed no expression.
“Jane!” Tick yelled. “We can’t stay here. We have to get out of here and figure things out!”
“Call me Mistress,” she said, but without conviction. Tick wouldn’t have been able to understand the words if he hadn’t heard her say them before. He couldn’t believe she’d worry about such a stupid thing right then.
“Mistress Jane!” he screamed at her.
She seemed to snap out of whatever trance held her, her mask transforming into a look of concern. Her voice boomed as if she used a microphone. “We need to get above ground—to the dirt fields on top of us. Nothing to fall on us there.”
“Then do it!” Tick called back. “How do—”
He cut off when she gripped the Barrier Staff in both hands and thrust it toward the cracked ceiling of the tunnel. Its upper tip slammed into the rock. A bright burst of white fire made Tick shut his eyes and look down. A new sound overwhelmed the cracking and splitting of rock around them: pounding ocean waves and the familiar shifting of sands. He’d heard that noise before—when his own powers had heightened entropy and dissolved matter.