“Ya could’ve sliced someone’s ruddy head off,” Mothball said.

“I’m quite aware of that, thank you very much.” Master George looked angry, but it quickly flashed into a smile and a snicker. “I imagine it gave them a jolly good fright, don’t you?”

“I bet you did it on purpose,” Rutger said. “I know I would have.”

“But they got it?” Mothball asked.

“Yes, yes, they got it. I hope they’ll forgive me the debt of mending their wall, however.” Master George cleared his throat, then his face grew serious again. “I’m afraid we have tough times ahead, my friends. This . . . problem is growing, and we haven’t the slightest clue as to its source. If I could, I would begin our meeting this very instant. But, alas, not everyone will be here until the appointed time.”

“What do you have planned for Tick and his friends?” Rutger asked.

Master George put the Barrier Wand on the table and absently rolled it back and forth. “Well, the most essential matter is to figure out Master Tick’s odd ability to manipulate the Chi’karda. Perhaps we can use it to our advantage in this dreadful mess.”

“Figured out where yer gonna send ’em yet?” Mothball asked.

“Oh, yes, indeed I have.”

Mothball and Rutger waited, expecting their boss to tell them the plan. But he stayed silent, staring at an empty spot on the other side of the kitchen.

“And . . .” Rutger prodded.

Master George finally looked up, focused on Rutger, then Mothball. “My dear friends, I’m afraid my plans for them are quite . . . hazardous.”

“Hazardous?” Mothball repeated.

Master George nodded. “I daresay I hardly expect all three of them to survive.”

Chapter

8

~

Guilty

Tick’s eyes flickered, then opened.

Though shaded by trees, the faint forest light looked like atomic explosions, blistering his eyeballs with pain, making him squeeze his eyelids shut once more. He groaned, every inch of his body feeling like someone had mistaken him for a human pi–ata. He hurt. He hurt bad.

To his right, he heard movement—the rustling of leaves, moaning. Tick brought his hands up to his face, wincing as the movement sent shockwaves of pain coursing through his body again. He froze until it died down, then rubbed his eyes. He finally opened them again, and the light didn’t seem nearly as bad. Carefully, delicately, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

Darkness had crept into the forest, more and more insects revealing their presence in a growing chorus of mating calls. Paul sat with his arms folded, leaning against a nearby tree, his face set in a grimace. Sofia was curled up in a ball several feet to Paul’s right, still moaning, leaves sticking to her clothes as if she’d been rolling around in them since morning. The strange devices Mr. Chu had attached to them were gone.