Chapter 20

chapter twenty I march toward one of the weapons the strayfur knocked over. It's an enormous blade made from some metal we don't have on Earth. It must weigh a hundred pounds. But, thanks to the Cosmic Hand, I'm able to lift and wield it, though just barely. "Quint," I say, "I'm gonna go punch Wracksaw in the nose. Wanna come?" "Indeed, friend," he says. "And if we live through that," I say, "then you're gonna tell me the thing you're not telling me." Quint tilts his head. He's thinking, about to speak, when— The ceiling splits above us! It's ripped off like the top of a tin can. Light pours in, so that—for a moment—the figure above us is only a huge, looming shadow.

SO YOU LIKE HISTORY? CONVENIENT, BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT YOU WILL SOON BECOME. Wracksaw dismounts his strayfur, clumsily sliding over the top of the monster, mashing its head into the jagged ledge where the ceiling was torn off. I hear a muted howl from the strayfur—then spot its body, mangled and broken, heaving over the ledge as Wracksaw descends. I spin around, looking for Stargrove. Instead I hear stampeding feet and then feel a sharp pain as Debra

Bulb bursts through the door, nicking my side with one of their long blades. Wracksaw moves forward, howling with maniacal laughter as one armacle smacks me. Light flares behind my eyes. Sharp, exploding pain sends a scream up my throat—but it's silenced as Wracksaw's next blow knocks me out of the museum, the window shattering, rock-candy glass flying, black sand kicking up as I hit the street and tumble end over end. I manage to lift my head, which feels like a fifty- pound bowling ball. Black sand on my lips. My whole body feels like a stubbed toe—hot, sharp, stinging pain. Rolling over, I realize I managed to hang on to the huge blade. The Cosmic Hand's nearly magnetic suction-cup grip kept it in my hand. A cloud of sand billows past. Squinting, eyes burning, I see Wracksaw speeding toward me on tentacle legs—his movement is something between a slide, a glide, and a slither. One armacle snaps back, the air cracking then whistling as it comes crashing down. I can barely lift my weapon chest-high—but it's just enough, and it's just in time. The armacle crashes against the blade, violently twisting my wrist, slamming my shoulder into the ground. Without the Cosmic Hand,

the weapon would be halfway to Pluto right now, sent flying like a paper football flicked by Donkey Kong. Wracksaw circles, gifting me a split second to breathe. My eyes dart, blinking away stinging tears, scanning the museum, then— Stargrove! I see her, and I shoot her a quick mind- doodle: Stargrove, attacking Wracksaw. Her response is near-instant. The ground quakes as she rumbles down Warrior's Way, looking like a wrestler racing down the ramp, about to dive into the ring and join the fight. A dozen long, heavy strides— and then she's there, launching herself into the air, limbs outstretched, looking like a two-ton throwing star in a belly-flop contest. But then, with startling speed, Wracksaw spins, armacle raising. I hear a syrupy explosion sound, and about a billion little beads burst out of Wracksaw's armacle. A buzz fills the air. I know that sound, but this is tinier, weaker— like a familiar song played through cheap portable speakers.

Strayfurs, I realize. But the size of plump houseflies. Like... strayfur larvae. Most slam into Stargrove. Others zip past her, exploding against the wall of the visitors' center like a swarm of thumbnail-sized water balloons. The eruption looks like a crate of silly string was detonated. Stargrove hits the wall. I expect her to rebound immediately''... but she doesn't. She seems to be stuck, the larva goo holding her in place like

superglue. Her many arms struggle, but she can't free herself. Stargrove flashes two mind-doodles: Stuck. Gross. My heart sinks. Stargrove, the undefeated fighter, is down for the count. She got us this far, but she can't take us any farther. But then I hear— "Swing one of your arm tentacles at Jack again," Quint says, "and I will summon a conjuration so powerful it will turn you inside out." I spin. Quint is wielding his conjurer's cannon! But it looks different...