With a swarm of butterflies in his belly, Tick finally turned out the lights and headed up the stairs to his room, ready for one last night before the Big Day he’d been preparing for since November.

It took him over two hours to fall asleep.

Part

4

~

The Barrier Wand

Chapter

36

~

Among the Dead

The next evening—Monday night, May sixth—Tick stood on the front porch with his dad, looking at his digital watch every ten seconds as the sun sank deeper and deeper behind the tree-hidden horizon. The last remnants of twilight turned the sky into an ugly black bruise, a few streaks of clouds looking like jagged scars. It had just turned seven-thirty, and the temperature couldn’t possibly be any more perfect for a romp in the town cemetery. Warm, with a slight breeze bearing the strong scents of honeysuckle and pine.

“Are you ready for this?” Dad asked for the fifth time in the last half hour.

“I guess,” Tick replied, tugging at the scarf around his neck, in no mood to offer any smart-aleck response. He felt like he should have done more to prepare, but there was nothing he could think of to do. The only real instruction he’d been given in the Twelve Clues was to show up and do a couple of ridiculous cartoon actions.

He did have a backpack full of warm clothing, some granola bars and water, a flashlight, some matches, and—most important—his Journal of Curious Letters. He didn’t know if he’d be stranded somewhere and suddenly realize he needed to search for clues he’d missed before. Or maybe he needed it to enter the realm of Master George—kind of like a ticket.

Tick was as ready as he possibly could be. He looked at his dad, who seemed ten times more nervous than Tick did, wringing his hands, rocking back and forth on his feet, sweat pouring off his face. “Dad, are you okay?”

“No.” He didn’t offer anything else.

“Well . . . there’s nothing to worry about. I mean, it’s not like I’m going off to war or something. Mothball and Rutger will probably be there in the cemetery waiting for me. I’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?” Dad asked, almost in a whisper.

“How do I know what?”

“That you’re not going off to war?”

“I . . . I don’t know.” Tick couldn’t believe how the minutes dragged by.

“Many lives are at stake. That’s what the man said, right?”

His dad’s voice shook, worrying Tick. But he had no idea what to say. “I promise I’ll come back, Dad. No matter what, I promise to come back.”