by Brandon Mull
A painting flew off the wall and frisbeed straight at him. Seth sidestepped and ducked, barely avoiding it. The picture crashed against the floor, cracking the frame.
“Stop it,” Seth said. “I came to talk.”
How do we talk when you can’t hear me? the voice complained.
An incorporeal force shoved Seth into the center of the room. He staggered to stay on his feet.
“I hear you fine,” Seth said. “Sorry I barged in. I’m here to help.”
The room immediately grew still. The hostile feeling in the space had changed.
You hear me?
“I hear you.”
Stand on one foot.
Seth lifted a foot.
Turn around.
“Can I put my foot down?”
Yes.
Seth turned around.
You hear me.
“And you hear me too.”
The voice became small. I can hardly believe it. Please, who am I?
“I’m not sure,” Seth said. “You tell me.”
I can’t. Please help me. Who am I?
Seth wondered if the being could read his mind and was mocking him because of his lost memories. Can you hear me? Seth projected.
There came no response.
“Can you hear what I’m thinking?” Seth asked.
No, the presence answered. Who am I?
“That is for you to know.”
But I don’t know. I need help. Please. Have mercy. Who am I?
“I wish I could tell you.”
The atmosphere in the room became intense again. The door flew open, and Seth was lifted into the air and catapulted out to land half on the pebbly path, half on the weedy lawn. He skidded and rolled to a stop as the door banged shut.
“How it go?” Hermo asked.
Seth stood up and dusted himself off. He could tell his legs had been bruised and scraped. “You okay, Calvin?” he whispered.
“I’m fine,” Calvin said. “You?”
“I’m doing well,” Seth said. “I think we’re hitting it off.”
“You need more charm,” Brunt said.
“You need lucky potato,” Hermo said.
“This is all part of my technique,” Seth insisted.
“Flying out door?” Hermo asked.
“Showing flexibility,” Seth corrected. “Rolling with the punches.”
“That big punch,” Hermo said.
“More of a push, really,” Seth said. “Or a fling.”
“Did you fail?” Brunt asked. His expression became menacing. “Dante won’t like it if you fail.”
“Who mentioned failing?” Seth replied. “Phase one went great. We established contact. Measured up each other. Phase two is more important. I’m going on a short walk. You two guard the road.”
Seth went around behind the cottage. A path led into the trees where an outhouse stood.
“Do you have a plan?” Calvin asked.
“Could you hear him?” Seth asked quietly.
“Was it a him?”
“The voice in my head sounded male.”
“I heard no voice.”
“He wants to know who he is,” Seth said. “He sounds desperate. How could we figure it out?”
“Dante didn’t know what this thing is,” Calvin said, “let alone who.”
“Right,” Seth said. “Since they just call it a presence, I bet nobody knows much about it.”
“Strange that you lost your identity and this presence did too,” Calvin said.
“Coincidence?” Seth asked. “Could he have been mirroring me?”
“Who knows?” Calvin said.
“I need to find out who I am,” Seth said. “My mission can’t turn into uncovering the history of this presence.”
“Unless it won’t take much to find out.”
Seth walked around the house and to the road where the trolls stood. Brunt and Hermo watched him approach.
“Do you know anything about the history of this cottage?” Seth asked.
“Many years ago, an old alley troll named Merglebrax lived there,” Brunt said. “He fled when the presence arrived.”
“Has the presence spoken to anyone?” Seth asked.
“Not that I know of,” Brunt said. “Are you stumped? Bested?”
“Just asking questions,” Seth said. “Preparing for round two.”
Seth walked back to the red door, gravel crunching underfoot.
“Are you sure about this?” Calvin asked quietly.
“Nope,” Seth said. “But I’ll try to bluff my way through it.” He knocked, then raised his voice. “Can I come in?”
Come in, Seth heard in his mind.
Seth entered and shut the door behind him. “I’ve come to help you. I can hear you.”
Who am I?
“I was hoping my presence would jog your memory,” Seth said.
Tell me who I am!
“You’re my assistant,” Seth said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Your assistant?
“I wasn’t sure at first,” Seth said. “I had to be certain. How long have you been here?”
Not sure. Too long. What’s my name?
“Reggie,” Seth invented.
What’s your name?
“I’m Seth. I’ve been looking for you.”
You found me.
“You don’t want to be here, Reggie. This place is no good for you.”
This is where I am now. This is what I have.
Seth looked around at the cottage, unimpressed. “This place is a dump. This place is no good. The Reggie I know wouldn’t want to live here.”
You know me. I am Reggie.
“You sure are,” Seth said. “You’re sounding more like yourself every minute.”
What is Reggie?
“My trusty assistant,” Seth said.
What is Reggie made of?
“What do you think?” Seth tried.
I don’t know. Please tell me what I’m made of.
“You’re made of dirt,” Seth improvised. “You belong outside.”
Dirt?
“Yeah, dirt,” Seth said. “You lost your dirt, though. That confused you. Reggie, you wandered off and got lost. You need a shape.”
I belong outside.
“You sure do, Reggie,” Seth said. “Should we go out?”
I belong. Outside.
Seth opened the door.
Yes. I am made of dirt. I belong outside.
Seth felt something whoosh past him, and then he exited, closing the door.
The ground to the right of the pebble path began to tremble and churn, as if being aggressively tilled by invisible tools. Grassy chunks of earth and clods of dusty soil merged together and rose up into a vaguely humanoid form, about the height of Seth. The trolls retreated to the far side of the road, poised to run away.
I am Reggie, the earthen figure spoke to Seth’s mind. I am made of dirt. I am your assistant.
“Good to see you again, Reggie,” Seth said, baffled that the entity had successfully taken shape.
You see me, Reggie said. You hear me. I exist! I knew it!
“You exist.”
What now, Master?
Seth had to silently admit he liked the sound of that. “You stand there for a minute. I have to talk to some trolls. Then we go on a journey.”
I will stand here until our journey, Reggie said resolutely.
“If one of the trolls gives me trouble, I’ll call you,” Seth said.
Nobody troubles Master, Reggie said.
Seth started walking to the trolls.
“He’s coming with us?” Calvin whispered.
“I guess so,” Seth said. “He’s eager to help. We don’t want him returning to the cottage and making Dante mad. You still can’t hear him?”
“No, but I guess a friend made of dirt could come in handy.”
“I got the presence out of the cottage,” Seth told Brunt. “We’re buddies now.”
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“So I see,” Brunt said. “Not bad.”
“He wants to serve me for a while,” Seth said. “You know how these things go. What now? Do we go back to Dante?”
“No need,” Brunt said, producing an envelope. “This letter of introduction will secure assistance from an expert on the Games. Virgil, son of Galdo, can be found at the address on the envelope, in the town of Humburgh, not far from the arena. Head down this lane to the crossroads, then go left. If in doubt, follow the signs or ask the way to Humburgh. Should the presence return to the cottage, you should forever sleep lightly.”
“Thanks for the letter,” Seth said, accepting it. “Give Dante my regards.”
Brunt replied with a snort, then turned and trudged off.
“We go Humburgh?” Hermo asked.
“Are you sticking with me?” Seth asked.
“You survive Dante,” Hermo said. “You survive presence. You survivor.”
“Time will tell,” Seth said.
“And you have little helper,” Hermo said.
“I do my best,” Calvin said. “But don’t blow my cover. Sometimes it’s smarter for me to hide and listen.”
“Are you sure you’re done with Troll Tavern?” Seth asked. “You were pretty excited to go there.”
Hermo waved a disgusted hand toward the tavern. “Stew good. Trolls rude. Humburgh famous. Humburgh better.”
“Come on, Reggie,” Seth called. “We’re going to Humburgh.”
The figure of dirt came walking toward him.
Where is that?
“We’ll find it together,” Seth assured him.
Last, but certainly not least, Miss Kendra, we will find the door to your suite up here on the left,” Raza said, leading her down a hall constructed to human scale. A few inches taller than Kendra, Raza moved with grace and formality, keeping his body unusually erect. A female servant stayed with him, about his same height, with fair skin, fiery red hair, and turquoise eyes. She wore a flattering cheongsam dress and, just like Raza, had a snug silver choker around her neck.
Although the others had already been escorted to their rooms, Vanessa had skipped settling in to remain with Kendra. Raza used a key to open the door.
“Forgive us, Miss Vanessa, if your habitation is not equal to Miss Kendra’s,” Raza said, ushering them into a spacious salon. “As a former caretaker, she merits elite accommodations.”
“No offense taken,” Vanessa said.
“Giselle will be your personal attendant,” Raza told Kendra. “Inquire about anything you need, including food, laundry, security, navigating Terastios, sightseeing, and privacy.”
Giselle gave a small curtsy, red tresses swaying. “I am at your service, day and night, throughout your stay.”
“Thank you,” Kendra said.
“I will leave you in Giselle’s care,” Raza said with a small bow. “You can find me or a fellow servant inside the first door of the hall that I showed you, or else through Giselle.”
“Thanks,” Kendra said.
Raza handed Kendra the key to her room, glanced at Vanessa, and departed.
“Allow me to show you the suite,” Giselle said. Kendra and Vanessa followed Giselle into a bedchamber where a veil screened a lavish circular bed piled with cushions. The attendant led them to a bathroom, a kitchen, a sunroom, and finally to a large, tiled space dominated by a waist-deep pool accented by tiled pillars.
“My own pool?” Kendra asked.
“You may swim or bathe here, as you choose,” Giselle said.
Kendra noticed the piles of thick towels and the cabinet full of fluffy robes. Cakes of soap waited alongside fragrant lotions and ointments.
“You’re living the good life,” Vanessa said, fingering a robe.
“You have to come here and swim with me,” Kendra said. With her glamorous appearance, Kendra thought Vanessa would look more at home in this glossy paradise than anyone.
“It’s not just for pool parties,” Vanessa said. “You can wash up.”
“I wouldn’t want to get the water soapy,” Kendra said. “It’s too nice.”
“We will clean the water after each use, of course,” Giselle said.
“Or I guess I could save you the trouble,” Kendra said softly, patting her unicorn horn.
“Tell us about the collar you are wearing,” Vanessa invited.
“All palace servants wear one, milady,” Giselle said.
“Is its purpose more than adornment?” Vanessa asked.
“If I knowingly lie, the choker will constrict and strangle me,” Giselle said.
“I thought I recognized the nature of it,” Vanessa said. “The giant Thronis at Wyrmroost gave out similar collars.”
“They are an application of magic devised by giants,” Giselle said. “Thronis wore one when he was exiled to Wyrmroost and placed in the care of Agad.”
“How did you become a servant here?” Vanessa asked.
“It is a long story,” Giselle said.
“Are you mortal?” Vanessa asked.
“I need not answer personal questions,” Giselle said, lowering her eyes.
“You’re a dragon,” Vanessa guessed.
Giselle raised her eyes and gazed at Vanessa steadily. “I have not taken dragon shape for centuries. The choker would kill me if I tried. I took an oath to serve Imani, and if I break that vow, the choker will ensure I perish.”
“Raza too?” Kendra asked.
“All servants in silver collars are dragons,” Giselle said.
“It doesn’t seem like dragons are treated fairly here,” Kendra said.
“I appreciate your opinion,” Giselle said.
“At Wyrmroost the dragons were free to live as they chose,” Kendra said. “To hunt, or sleep, or hoard treasure. They had their own society.”
“I have heard rumors,” Giselle said. “Forgive me if it is difficult to believe.”
“The dragons rebelled and overthrew the sanctuary,” Kendra said.
A small smile flickered on Giselle’s lips. “I have heard rumors,” she repeated.
Kendra could see that the idea of a dragon rebellion appealed to her. Considering how dragons were treated at Titan Valley, Kendra couldn’t blame her.
“Do you think the dragons here are treated fairly?” Kendra asked quietly.
“I cannot give an accurate answer to that question,” Giselle said.
“A yes would be a lie, and a no would break her loyalty oath,” Vanessa said.
“You have the right idea,” Giselle said.
“Would you harm me if you could?” Kendra asked.
“I cannot harm you,” Giselle said. “I am assigned to serve you.”
“Will you be spying on me for the Giant Queen?” Kendra asked.
“I serve you under her instructions,” Giselle said. “Her royal majesty Imani is my true master.”
“Would you prefer not to serve me?” Kendra asked. “Would it be better if I send you away?”
Giselle looked distressed. “There could be punishments if I am dismissed. Another will be chosen to serve you. I would much rather serve you than be dismissed from this task.”
“Can you promise not to spy for Imani?” Kendra asked. “Can you promise to do me no harm?”
“I cannot make that promise,” Giselle said. “My first loyalty is to Queen Imani. I can only assure you that I am currently assigned to serve and protect you.”
“Well, you should know that I wouldn’t treat dragons the way Imani does,” Kendra said.
“Perhaps that is why your sanctuary fell,” Giselle said.
Kendra paused. “Maybe.”
“Dragons do not want a cage, however considerate the keeper,” Giselle said.
“Leave us,” Vanessa said. “I wish to talk to Kendra in private.”
Giselle looked to Kendra.
“Yes, please,” Kendra said. “And would you promise not to listen to this conversation?”
“I promise,” Giselle said. “It is w
ise to give specific instructions. Consider the possibility that, at some level, I do not wish to work against you or to help the Giant Queen in any way. Remember that though I must be loyal to the queen, I am assigned to obey your direct orders like a good servant. Sensible commands can limit my opportunities to gather information. I cannot avoid helping the Giant Queen when you leave the opportunity available.”
“Thanks, Giselle,” Kendra said.
Giselle gave a small curtsy and left the room.
Vanessa stepped near Kendra and spoke quietly. “We’re in the middle of some delicate politics here.”
“I can’t believe I’m being served by a dragon,” Kendra said.
“Believe it, but stay on guard,” Vanessa said. “The Giant Queen might be our ally, but she is not our friend. Giselle will serve her as required. And if Giselle were freed, she would immediately turn on any of us.”
“I got that feeling,” Kendra said.
“I’m going to visit my room and then do some reconnaissance,” Vanessa said. “Rest while you can.”
“Andromadus gave me a book,” Kendra said. “I’ll do some reading.”
“It would be worthwhile for you to learn that story,” Vanessa said. “Either Warren, Tanu, or I will always be available right down the hall. Enjoy your book.”
Giselle opened the front door for Vanessa’s departure. After closing it, she turned to Kendra. “May I prepare any food for you?”
“Sure,” Kendra said. “What are the options?”
“I will do my best to prepare whatever you want,” Giselle said.
“How about a sandwich?” Kendra asked.
“What kind?”
“Turkey with avocado,” Kendra said.
“Mayo? Mustard?” Giselle asked.
“A little of each,” Kendra said.
“Cheese? Lettuce? Tomatoes? Oil? Salt? Pepper? Vinegar?”
“Some cheese and lettuce,” Kendra said.
“Anything on the side?” Giselle asked.
“A salad with ranch,” Kendra said.
“No problem,” Giselle said. “Any potato chips?”
“Sure,” Kendra said. “What did you look like as a dragon?”
Giselle gave a shy smile. “It has been too long. I hardly remember.”
“You didn’t forget,” Kendra said.
“Mostly red scales,” Giselle said. “I was long and slender. Streamlined. Very fast.”
“Did you breathe fire?”
“You would call it fire,” Giselle said. “Mine was hotter and more liquid than some dragon fire.”