“The Thirteenth Reality,” she continued, not taking her eyes off Sato, “has . . . unusual qualities. We’ve explored it extensively, realized its potential.”

“Why didn’t you tell us before?” Sato’s father asked, his voice laced with anger. “If you’ve been exploring it this long—”

“The Chi’karda there,” Jane said, ignoring the interruption, “is different. More powerful. More potent. It’s mutated into something quite extraordinary. We may finally have the secret to finding our Utopian Reality. If this place isn’t it, the power in the Thirteenth will help us make it ourselves.”

No one spoke for a long time; a few people exchanged nervous glances.

“Why all the sad faces?” Jane asked. “Haven’t you trusted me all these years? Don’t you still trust me?”

“Not if you break the rules,” Sato’s mother said. “How can we trust you if you break the rules and hide things from us?”

“This calls for an immediate Discretionary Council,” Sato’s father said. “George, you know it does. I demand you call in the Haunce, this instant.”

George stood. “Now, Master Sato, let’s not be hasty—”

That was the line. Those seven words would stick in young Sato’s mind, making it even harder for him to trust the man in the future, when his own recruiting call came. That was the line, because after George said it, not another word was spoken by him before Sato’s parents were dead.

“I don’t have time for this,” Jane said. “I thought this might be the reaction, so I brought along something to show you all how important this discovery is. For all of us. For the Realities. For humanity.”

“Stop,” Sato’s father said. “Stop this instant. I demand it.”

“You . . . demand it?” she replied, her lip curled ever so slightly. “You demand it?”

“Yes,” Sato’s mother answered for her husband. “You’re scaring us. This doesn’t feel right.”

Mistress Jane smiled then, an image Sato would never forget. The smile held no humor, no joy, no kindness. It was an evil smile.

The next moment, the windows erupted, blowing inward with a shower of tinkling glass shards. Shouts of pain surrounded him as streams of fire poured in from outside, streaking spurts of lava that whisked around the room like flying eels of flame.

The dream always grew dim at that moment, the memory fading into horror. He remembered his father’s comforting grip on his shoulders disappearing, his mother’s hand
letting go of his own. He remembered intense heat. He remembered people running around, their clothes on fire. He remembered Jane vanishing into thin air. He remembered crying, turning to find his parents, wanting to run away.

But then, like always, he saw one last thing in the dream before it ended. One last image that would haunt him forever. His mother and father, lying on the ground, side by side.

Screaming. Burning.

Dying.

Sato woke up.

Chapter

18

~