Dragonwatch, vol. 4: Champion of the Titan Games

by Brandon Mull

  “What should I give her for admission?” Seth asked.

  “I’ve heard money always fails,” Virgil said. “Give what you have.”

  “Except not a turnip,” Seth said.

  “Something of value,” Virgil said.

  They reached Virgil’s townhouse, and the satyr opened the door with a key. The main floor looked quiet, so they headed for the stairs.

  “Seth!” Calvin called. “You’re back!”

  Seth paused at the foot of the stairs. Calvin came running across the floor.

  “How was your day?” Calvin asked.

  “Interesting,” Seth said. “How was yours?”

  “Amazing,” Calvin said. “I went to Humbuggle’s estate.”

  “Really?” Seth asked. “Did you get inside?”

  “There were barriers to keep me out,” Calvin said. “But I made friends with a maid out hanging clothes. She confirmed that one of Humbuggle’s staff—a woman named Sable—has a little woman like me.”

  “It could be Serena,” Seth said.

  “That’s my hope,” Calvin said. “The maid caught me and tried to keep me as a pet. I got away, though. What are you up to now?”

  “We’re going back to the Mystery House,” Seth said. “Are you up for it?”

  “Anywhere,” Calvin said. “Always.”

  Seth placed Calvin in his pocket, then climbed the stairs. He found Reggie in the bedroom, standing still.

  Welcome back, Master, Reggie communicated.

  Seth looked around. “Have you seen Hermo?”

  He’s hiding beneath the bed, Reggie conveyed.

  Seth knelt down and looked under the bed, but he saw only clutter.

  “I know you’re under there, Hermo,” Seth said. “Come out.”

  “Dirtman tattletale!” Hermo complained, sliding out from under the bed and hopping to his feet.

  “We’re going to the Mystery House,” Seth said.

  “No,” Hermo said. “Me stay.”

  “You can’t make a lair in here,” Virgil said, entering the room.

  “How you know?” Hermo complained.

  “Because this is my home,” Virgil said. “You are here as my guests. And if you want to be my guests, you have to help in my research. Come along to the Humburgh Mystery House.”

  “Fine,” Hermo said. “Me solve mystery for slowpokes. Then Hermo sleep.”

  This time the troll on the balcony of the Humburgh Mystery House wore a striped jacket and a dapper straw hat. Most people passing by did not look twice at him.

  “Do you see her?” Virgil asked Seth.

  “Not yet.”

  “I’ll hang back,” Virgil said. “You should show up with the same group as before.”

  Seth approached the alley beside the painted door, and the woman bundled in dark fabric emerged from the shadows. Seth walked up to her.

  “Have you a better offer?” the hag asked in her creaky voice.

  “Would you be interested in secrets?” Seth asked.

  “Depends if I already know them,” the hag replied. “Also depends if I care to know them.”

  Seth stepped closer and lowered his voice. “I’m a shadow charmer. I helped Ronodin the dark unicorn and the Underking free the undead from the Blackwell to destroy Wyrmroost.”

  “Not bad,” the hag said. “There is value in learning what forces are combining in this conflict. I need more, though. Why have you come to Titan Valley?”

  “Humbuggle took my memories,” Seth said. “I want them back. I’m trying to figure out the Games.”

  “You want the Wizenstone,” the hag said.

  “I don’t care about the stone,” Seth said. “But I need to beat Humbuggle.”

  “Much better than a turnip,” the hag said. “You have my attention. Secrets spoil. I need something tangible that you value.”

  Seth had retrieved his satchel from the townhouse. He rummaged inside and pulled out a glove. “This makes you invisible if you stand still.” Seth knew he could get many of the same benefits the glove provided by shade walking, but the thought of losing the item still stung.

  The hag accepted the glove and gave it a sniff. “Fair enough. You may enter, along with your servants.”

  “Me no servant,” Hermo said.

  “Then you must provide your own admission,” the hag said.

  Hermo glanced at the Mystery House and sniffed, then waved a dismissive hand at the hag. “Me get in own way.”

  The hermit troll waddled off into the alley.

  Seth looked back at Virgil. “Want to be my servant? It gets you access.”

  Virgil scrunched his face. “I’ve been in there several times. Today is part of your journey. Tell me about it later.”

  The hag motioned Seth toward the picture of the door on the wall of the Mystery House. Seth reached for the doorknob, and, right before he touched it, the picture became an actual door.

  Seth glanced back at Reggie. “Ready?”

  I will go where you lead, Reggie responded.

  Seth entered and stared down a winding white hall with a bloodred carpet running down the center. The door closed behind Seth, and he turned to find a bare wall with no evidence that a door had ever existed there.

  Seth advanced along the carpet with Reggie right behind him. The floor began to tilt until the carpet was on the wall, but Seth’s feet stayed firmly attached. The corridor continued to twist until Seth strolled along the ceiling, as if gravity had been reversed.

  The red carpet ended at a yellow door. Seth opened it and found a room beyond, oriented as if he were walking on the floor rather than the ceiling. He entered, and the door closed behind him, making it easy to believe he was indeed on the floor, though he felt sure the room was actually upside down. Exotic potted plants were spaced around the room, as were a few benches and seven grandfather clocks. Seth saw no windows or doors, though velvet curtains masked most of the walls.

  The curtains bulged near the bottom on one side of the room, then lifted, and Hermo emerged. “Hi, Seth.”

  “That was fast,” Seth said. “How’d you find us?”

  “Easy. Me find other way in, then me join you. You want meet Diviner?”

  “Yes,” Seth said.

  “Over here.” Hermo held up the curtain.

  Seth ducked under, then went through a narrow door into a fancy parlor, sumptuously furnished. Seth turned to find Reggie following.

  “What do you think of this place?” Seth asked.

  This building is old, Reggie expressed. And larger than it seems from outside.

  Hermo led them to a life-sized portrait of a young lord in a powdered wig, then pulled it open like a door. They stepped into a small room behind the painting—small until Seth looked up. The room extended upward like a hallway. A red carpet ran up one of the walls, so Seth stepped onto it, and he found himself standing as if gravity was now pulling sideways. With this new orientation, Seth and Reggie followed Hermo straight up the shaft.

  Hermo stopped at a tapestry and pulled it aside to reveal a door behind it. “In there,” the hermit troll said.

  “You’ve never been here before?” Seth asked.

  “First time,” Hermo replied.

  “You’re amazing,” Seth said.

  “Not amazing,” Hermo said. “This simple.”

  “Are you coming?” Seth asked.

  “Not as servant,” Hermo said.

  “How about as a friend?” Seth suggested.

  Hermo smiled. “Okay.”

  The door had no handle, but when Seth pressed, it swung inward.

  “You first,” Hermo said.

  Beyond the door, Seth discovered a large room where a giant pivoted in a pit of sand, carefully making patterns with a hoe. The giant had red, barklike skin and a head like that of a rhinoceros without the horn. Seth gauged that he would come up to just below the waist of the creature.

  The high ceiling held a skylight of stained glass, gently illuminated by moonlight. On on
e side of the room, a pond containing diverse fish and amphibians bordered the edge of the central sandpit. On the other side of the room, instruments were displayed in stands and cases, including kettle drums, cymbals, a xylophone, a harp, racks of chimes, a bassoon, a cello, a flute, a French horn, and a gong, all on a scale to match the giant. Worktables at the back of the room held oddments ranging from clocks to kaleidoscopes to dice of unusual size and shape.

  “You found me swiftly,” the giant said in a deep, calm voice. He did not look up from scoring the sand. “Please, come inside.”

  Seth, Reggie, and Hermo stepped into the room. Seth ventured to the edge of the sandpit. “Are you the Diviner?”

  “We are all components of the same great whole,” the giant said. “Some call me the Diviner. You may do so as well. If you are thirsty, use the pump.”

  Seth saw an old-fashioned water pump with a bucket beneath the spout. A drink sounded good, so he levered the handle up and down until water poured into the bucket, some splashing onto the marble floor. Claiming one of several tin cups near the pump, Seth took water from the bucket and tried a sip. It tasted slightly metallic.

  “I haven’t seen a giant like you,” Seth said.

  “There are seventeen tribes of giants represented here at Titan Valley,” the Diviner said. “I am one of the Kurut Oi, commonly called the gentle giants.” Setting his rake aside, the Diviner crouched and began plucking pebbles out of the sand.

  “You can help us find things?” Seth asked.

  The giant climbed out of the sandpit and loomed over Seth. “We shall see,” he said, bending down and holding out a broad hand with ten pebbles in it. “Select a stone.”

  Seth picked out a round, smooth, tan pebble. The giant offered the remaining pebbles to Hermo.

  “Me no need rock,” Hermo said. “Me find things better than you.”

  “Anyone else?” the giant asked.

  “Reggie?” Seth prompted. “Would you like to choose a stone?”

  Should I? Reggie asked.

  “Sure,” Seth said.

  The dirtman approached the Diviner. He leaned over the hand displaying the pebbles.

  I can’t pick, Reggie conveyed. Master, which should I take?

  “He must choose for himself,” the Diviner said.

  I’m sorry, Reggie agonized. Decisions are hard.

  “Indecision can be telling as well,” the Diviner said.

  “It’s all right, Reggie,” Seth said. “You don’t have to choose.” He looked at the Diviner. “You can hear him?”

  “There are diverse ways to communicate,” the Diviner said.

  “I’ll pick one,” Calvin offered.

  “Be my guest,” the Diviner said, holding out the hand with nine pebbles.

  Seth took Calvin from his pocket and placed him on the Diviner’s palm. After inspecting the pebbles for a long moment, Calvin pointed out a flat one with square edges.

  “Interesting selection,” the Diviner said. “Follow me.”

  He led them over to one of the worktables, where he picked up a tuning fork and tapped it against his thumbnail. He held the vibrating fork beside Seth’s left ear, the tone becoming rather loud at that proximity.

  “What would you most like to find?” the Diviner asked.

  “My memories,” Seth said as the Diviner passed the tuning fork over his head in an arc to end up beside his right ear.

  “That is correct,” the Diviner said. “Good awareness. Hold out the little person.”

  Seth held out Calvin on his hand.

  The Diviner tapped the tuning fork again and asked the same question.

  “Serena,” Calvin said.

  The Diviner nodded. “And the truth behind the nipsie curse.”

  “Amazing,” Calvin said. “Yes, those two things.”

  The Diviner tapped the tuning fork again and passed it over Reggie. “What do you most want to find?”

  I already found it, Reggie expressed. I know who I am.

  “But you’re wrong,” the Diviner said. “You wish to find your true identity.”

  I am Master’s assistant, Reggie declared.

  “For now, yes,” the Diviner said. “But you are more.”

  The dirt figure turned to Seth. Master, am I more?

  “I’m sure you are,” Seth said.

  “What about you, hermit troll?” the Diviner asked. “What do you most want to find?” He flicked the tuning fork and held it to the side of Hermo’s head.

  “No secret what me want,” Hermo grumbled. “Perfect lairs. Secure. Private.”

  The Diviner swept the tuning fork over Hermo’s head to the other side. “Interesting.”

  “No interesting,” Hermo said, swatting the tuning fork away. “This game boring. Me wait outside.” He turned and stalked from the room.

  “He used to be most concerned with finding ideal lairs,” the Diviner confided after Hermo left. “A shift recently occurred in him. Now he most wants a friend.”

  “You can hear that through the tuning fork?” Seth asked.

  The Diviner set down the tuning fork. “I get a sense for the harmonies of the desires expressed, and I glimpse the dissonant yearnings beneath, conscious and unconscious. Truth is more available than most suppose, especially to those ready to perceive it.”

  “Are you trying to help us?” Seth asked.

  “That depends on what you want,” the Diviner said. “I find hidden things. I unmask truth. I have been loved for it, and I have been hated for it. Come.”

  The Diviner led them over to a gong. “Seth, stand before the gong. I recommend you cover your ears.”

  Seth complied. Even with his hands over his ears, he heard the splashy toll of the gong and felt an outpouring of vibrations.

  The Diviner nodded, then played a flute in close proximity to Calvin and rang chimes beside Reggie. Seth watched with a mix of fascination and skepticism.

  “Seth,” the Diviner said, “you are a shadow charmer.”

  “Yes,” Seth agreed.

  “And you assume that the presence you named Reggie is one of the undead,” the Diviner continued, “because you hear him.”

  “True,” Seth said.

  Am I undead? Reggie asked.

  “That assumption is wrong,” the Diviner said. “The presence you call Reggie is a collection of memories that were separated from a living being. That being is not dead; therefore the presence you call Reggie is a metaphysical fragment separated from a greater whole.”

  Seth’s mouth was dry, and he felt slightly queasy. “From me?”

  “No,” the Diviner said. “Wouldn’t that be convenient? The presence you call Reggie was separated from a living being who dwells in the coliseum here in Humburgh. The presence has extremely limited free will and longs to be made whole.”

  Master, Reggie inquired tentatively. You lied to me?

  “I was helping you as best I knew how,” Seth said.

  I am not dirt?

  “I needed to move you,” Seth said. “You needed a shape.”

  I needed to know who I was, Reggie conveyed, sounding betrayed.

  “I didn’t have all the answers yet,” Seth said. “I’ll keep helping you.”

  The dirt body crumbled to the floor. I am memories?

  “You were attacking anyone who came to that cottage,” Seth said.

  Nobody could hear me, Reggie expressed. I didn’t know where to go, who to be. It made me angry.

  “For disembodied memories, you are unusually powerful,” the Diviner said. “Humbuggle keeps his disembodied memories in a certain location, and you escaped. You did not want to be held by him. But after winning your freedom, you gradually lost your sense of self and most of your ability to choose.”

  Who am I? Reggie asked.

  “As an independent entity, you have no true name,” the Diviner said. “Reggie serves for the present. You are an extensive lifetime of memories divided from a living being. With some minor tinkering on my part, you are n
ow vibrating in such a way that, if taken to the coliseum, you could find and reunite with your true self.”

  I would like that, Reggie conveyed. Master helped me?

  “Seth helped free you from a prison of your own making,” the Diviner said. “He helped you make choices you could not make on your own.”

  I left the cottage, Reggie communicated. I became dirt. I became his assistant. Master will still help me?

  “I’ll help you find who you were taken from,” Seth said. “I wish somebody would do the same for me.”

  “I will aid you,” the Diviner said. “Seth, it might interest you to know that your memories also escaped the place where Humbuggle contains such things. You will need cooperation from Humbuggle to find them. There are many forces with an interest in you, Seth. Yours is a grand and complicated destiny. I cannot see your full path, but mending Reggie will help you as well.”

  “Can I help Seth too?” Calvin asked.

  “You have and you will,” the Diviner said. “Remember the old saying: ‘Help thy brother’s boat across, and lo, thine own has reached the shore.’”

  “I like that,” Calvin said.

  “Much hinges on you breaking the nipsie curse, Calvin,” the Diviner said. “Seth is not yet the champion of light that you need, but one day he could fill that role, if he so chooses.”

  “What should I do now?” Calvin asked.

  “Serena is at Humbuggle’s manor,” the Diviner said. “Learn what she knows.”

  “She is?” Calvin exclaimed. “Really? For sure?”

  “I’m sure,” the Diviner said.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense,” Calvin said. “How is she? What has she been doing?”

  “Her story belongs to her,” the Diviner said. “My role is to reveal your story to you. And I don’t see all. If I feel the rail vibrating, I know a train is coming. With sensitive attention, perhaps I can discern the speed of the train, perhaps the size, but not the paint color or the favorite food of the engineer.”

  “Has Serena learned important things?” Calvin said.

  “That much I can confirm,” the Diviner said. “A breeze with a certain smell and a particular amount of moisture can reveal a coming storm. A raging storm is heading for Titan Valley, literally and figuratively. You cannot stop it. You can choose whether to work with it or against it. My suggestion? When the gales come, raise a windmill, not a dam.”