He stopped, looking quickly at the floor. Tick groaned on the inside. The more they got to know Sofia, the more they realized her parents didn’t seem to care too much about what she did. This time they’d even let her come without her fancy butler, Frupey. But the verdict was still out as to why they didn’t care; Sofia refused to talk about it.

“Go home if you want,” she said with a sneer. “They have dead people in Florida, too, don’t they? Find a cemetery there.”

“Ah, man,” Paul said as he dropped his head into his hands with a groan. “You have no idea how hard it was to explain this stuff to my family. I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

“Fine. Then quit.”

“Oh, give me a break. I didn’t say squat about quitting.”

“It’s gonna be hard for all of us,” Tick interjected. “We just need to make them understand.”

“Easy for you to say,” Paul said. “I swear your dad is the single coolest person that’s ever breathed.”

“Maybe. But none of us can quit. Ever.”

Paul leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in anger. “Dude, quit preachin’. Paul Rogers is not gonna quit. I was just saying, man, it’s gonna be killer telling my old lady I’m running off again.”

The full load of spaghetti in Tick’s stomach was starting to churn. “Our parents just have to trust us. That’s all there is to it.”

“Yeah,” Paul agreed in a murmur.

“Okay, you know what?” Sofia said, her voice laced with annoyance. “You guys are getting on my nerves. We just got a letter from Master George—which we’ve been waiting for all summer—and you both are sitting here moping like you just found out you have two hours to live.” She stood up and started walking toward the stairs. “Let’s go look at the tube again to see if we can figure out what M.G. meant by Spinner.”

When neither Tick nor Paul moved a muscle, Sofia turned and cleared her throat loudly. “Come on.” She paused. “I promise I’ll be nice.” Another pause. “Please.”

Paul looked at Tick, as surprised as if he’d just seen an extra arm bloom from Sofia’s shoulder. Tick shrugged.

“Now!” Sofia yelled.

Paul and Tick jumped from the table, stumbling over each other as they followed her up the stairs.

Sofia picked up the broken metal tube and started shaking the two pieces toward the floor of the hallway. A small object fell out of one end and clinked when it hit the carpet. Paul reached it first, holding the odd thing up for everyone to see.

“What is it?” he whispered as he studied it.

Tick took it from him to get a better look. It was a two-inch wide, red plastic suction cup. Attached to the back of the cup was a thin, silvery metal rod bent at a ninety-degree angle. The L-shaped rod was about the size of Tick’s index finger. Tick clasped the cup in one hand, then flicked the tip of the rod with his finger. The small rod spun so fast the metal became a circular blur of silver.

Sofia flicked the rod again, watching it twirl. “Spinner. Master George is so brilliant when he names things.”

“I wonder if it’s from Chu Industries,” Tick said. “Does it say that anywhere?”

Sofia stopped the spinning rod and looked closer. “I don’t see anything.”

“What do you think it does?” Paul asked.

Tick pointed back down the stairs. “Master George said to attach it to a blank wall—let’s try the one in the dining room.”

“Let’s go,” Sofia said, already on the move.

Chapter

4

The Wretched Boy

The Spinner’s suction cup stuck to the middle of the wall with a simple push; the bent end of the “L” pointed toward the floor and swayed back and forth until it finally came to a rest.

“What now?” Tick asked.

“Spin it,” Paul said.

Sofia leaned forward and flicked the rod to make it spin, then stepped back. Without a word, the three of them quickly moved all the way to the other side of the room, pressing against the wall to watch. You couldn’t be too careful when it came to gadgets sent from Master George.

Strangely, the spinning metal rod didn’t slow at all, instead going so fast it appeared as a perfect circle of shimmering silver. A slight hum filled the room, like the soft sound of a ceiling fan. After several seconds, Tick’s eyes started to water as they tried to focus on something. Anything. Then the Spinner changed.

A red light flared from the tip of the metal rod, instantly creating a much larger circle that took up most of the wall, a hazy, flat disk of redness. Sofia gasped; Paul let out his usual, “Dude.” Tick could only stare.

“How’s it making a perfect circle?” Paul asked.

Sofia answered. “It must be shooting out some kind of scaled laser.”

“Ooh, like a light saber,” Paul said.

“But—” Tick stopped.

The red color faded from the projected, spinning disk, replaced by a large image of Master George, dressed in his dark suit, standing in front of a fireplace, staring out at them; he caressed Muffintops the cat in his arms. The picture quality was perfect—as good as any theater—it was just . . . round.

“My fondest greetings to the three of you,” Master George said. The sound of his voice seemed to come from everywhere at once, though slightly warbled. Tick couldn’t help but wonder what kind of speaker could have such power and still be so small—they certainly hadn’t noticed anything when they studied the Spinner a few minutes earlier.

Master George held out a hand. “Don’t attempt to reply—I assure you it will be a waste of your breath. This is only a recording, you see. Quite nice, don’t you think? The Spinner comes in handy when you get a bit depressed and want to watch an old black-and-white. It’s one of my favorite things. Although, it’s a bit difficult to use when you’re in a forest—particularly when you’re being chased by wolves . . .”

Tick exchanged a look with Sofia, both of them trying to hold in a laugh.

“Oh, dear, I’ve already gone off on a tangent,” Master George said, clearing his throat and growing very serious. “My apologies. There is a point, you see, to my sending you this Spinner. I must show you footage of something very frightening—something you must see and prepare yourselves to study with the greatest vigor. I want you to remember two words—entropy and fragmentation. These two things serve as our greatest challenge when studying the Realities; they are also the source of much heartache.”