And yet he was still Tick. Still had the cognitive functions of his brain. Still kid enough to simultaneously think this was really cool and also really scary.
The Haunce spoke, and its booming voice made those peripheral sounds dampened and dull. Tick couldn’t see the collection of ghosts—just heard it with ears he didn’t have at the moment.
“Atticus. Jane. Nothing we could have said beforehand could have prepared you for what we have done to you. For that reason, we said nothing. With time running out, we must begin our attempt to rebind the barriers of the Realities, to seal up the cracking splits and seams, to make the universe whole again. In the end, we promise we will do everything in our power to return you to your prior forms.”
Tick didn’t like the sound of that. If they succeeded, there must be a chance he’d never make it back to what he’d had before. Maybe he’d have to float here for the rest of his life.
“Where are we?” he asked, though he had no idea how he did it with no tongue and no mouth, no audible words. It was more like he’d projected his thoughts. “And what did you do to us. What are we right now?”
“Yes.” It was Jane’s voice, but not her voice. “I think we deserve to know what we’ve volunteered for.”
When the Haunce spoke again, Tick heard real emotion in its voice for the first time: impatience. “We have mere minutes, do you understand? It would take us a hundred lifetimes to explain the complexities of what and who and where you are right now. You are in the depths of space, in the smallest of smallest quantum realms, on the infinite path, in the past, present, and future. All at once. You are a trillion miles long and an atom’s width short. You are here and there and everywhere. You are, quite simply, joined with eternity. One day you will understand. Perhaps. But for now, you must do what we say, or everyone and everything will die!”
Tick listened in awe, hoping Jane would shut up and do the same.
The Haunce continued, sounding a little nicer. “The true power of Chi’karda lies not in scientific formulas and complicated theorems and atomic mapping. No. It lies within the heart and mind and spirit. It lies in the power of the soulikens. The two of you have more Chi’karda concentrated within you than any two humans we have ever observed. Far more. We still do not understand why this is so with Jane. Atticus, you have it because every one of your Alterants has died, and their soulikens have transferred to you. Why that happened, we do not know for sure.”
If Tick’s face had existed, he would’ve scrunched it up in confusion. But he remained quiet.
Jane didn’t. “I thought you said we had no time to waste.”
“Silence! Every word we speak is vital. You need to know that the Chi’karda is magnificently potent and powerful within both of you. Almost violently so. You must know this so you will have the confidence that the task you are about to perform will indeed accomplish our mutual goal of saving the Realities. Do not try to understand how or why. The breakdown of the intricate and infinitely complex background of it is for us to worry about. The two of you will use your powers in a way that your minds best decide to present it to you symbolically.”
The Haunce paused then, maybe to let its words sink in. Tick didn’t quite understand—not at all, actually—but he knew better than to resort to any childish antics when everything was on the line. He’d only move forward and do what he was asked to do.
“The two most powerful and effective things in the universe are the human mind and Chi’karda,” the Haunce continued. “They will now work together within you to present what we need in a way you will best understand it. Trust your instincts and accomplish the task. That is all. By doing so, you will put the pieces in place to heal the breaches in the Barriers. No matter what, trust what you see. No matter what, do what is asked of you. No matter what. Do you both understand?”
Tick’s first instinct was to nod, but nothing moved because there wasn’t anything to move. So he verbalized again. “Yeah. Yes. I understand.”
“Jane?”
She didn’t answer until a few seconds passed, probably trying to save a little face, a little power. “Yes. I understand.”
“Then let the process begin,” the Haunce pronounced.
Chapter 54
Words on a Tree
Again, Tick could never have explained to anyone what happened next. The swirling lights and glowing orbs and colored streaks suddenly twisted around him like a
pyrotechnic tornado, spinning and spinning until he wished he could close his eyes or look away. Dizziness filled him, those pleasurable feelings of floating and tingles and warmth gone in an instant.
Everything blended into one bright, all-encompassing light around him, joined by a rushing sound of wind and roaring trains. Tick felt a pressure, small at first then building, as if his parts had been thrown into a compressor and were being squeezed back together. It had just started to hurt when it all stopped, instantly. The light, the sounds, the heavy force.
He felt nothing. He saw only darkness.
Then things began to change.
One by one, his senses picked up new impressions. He heard a soft wind blowing through the branches of trees. Cold prickled his skin as he suddenly felt that same cool breeze, felt the crisp air all around him. The strong smell of pine trees filled his nose as he pulled in a deep breath. He licked his lips, tasted salt. The bottom of his feet pressed against something—he was standing—and they were cold, too.
Wind. Nose. Lips. Feet.
Tick had been put back together. But why the darkness?
Idiot, he chastised himself. His eyes were closed.
He opened them and took in another burst of quick breath.
A forest surrounded him, a thick layer of freshly fallen snow making the whole place a winter wonderland. Huge trees—mostly pine—towered above him, their branches heavily laden with the puffy white stuff. Tick glanced down to see his feet buried clear up to the ankles. Some of the snow had melted, and his socks were wet, his toes beginning to freeze.
He looked around at the tightly packed trees that went on in every direction as far as he could see. He slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in. The place was beautiful and reminded him of the woods near his home in Washington, though this forest seemed even larger and more widespread.
He’d turned about ninety degrees when he noticed a piece of paper stapled to a thick oak tree just a few feet away. The paper didn’t seem wet at all, which meant someone had to have put it there recently, and several lines had been written on its surface. Curious, he stepped forward, slogging through the snow until he reached the mysterious note, now only inches from his eyes.