by Brandon Mull
“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 now 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.”
“What does that mean exactly?” Seth asked.
“I can get no more specific,” the Diviner said. “You have all the direction I can currently offer.”
“Can we see you again?” Seth asked.
The Diviner stared off into the distance for a moment. “The way out of here is simple. Follow the blue carpet. If you should find me again, you will. If you should not, you will not. Let that supply what peace it can.”
Tess sat cross-legged on her bed, watching the light of dawn bleed into the sky. She knew if she crawled under her covers, she could probably fall back to sleep. But she felt eager
for a new day, and she was enjoying the cool tranquility of the early hour.
Yesterday morning, a fairy had come to her window. Her name was Nina, and she had streamlined yellow wings, unusually sparkly. They had played for a time, and Nina had promised to return this morning, but Tess saw no sign of her.
Padding over to the window, Tess rested her arms on the sill and leaned out, conscious of the tremendous drop to the ground below. She saw no fairies.
Tess got dressed, then went out to the sitting area that separated her room from Knox’s. She crossed to Knox’s door and opened it just enough to see he was still sleeping beneath the covers. Closing the door and backing away, Tess retrieved the card she had made the previous evening and decided to seek out Emery, the beautiful servant who attended their group.
After unlocking the front door of their suite, Tess peeked into the hall. Emery stood talking with Raza. Tess felt strange remembering they both were dragons. Marat had looked nothing like a dragon in his human form, so she knew it was possible.
Emery waved at Tess, said something to Raza, and came her way. “Up early again?” Emery asked.
“I made you something,” Tess said, trying not to feel shy.
“Let me see,” Emery said, approaching and accepting the card.
Tess had drawn a picture of a dragon reading to a little girl. THANKS FOR THE STORIES was printed in all caps. Tess knew the art was imperfect, but she hoped the characters would be recognizable. “That’s you and me.”
Emery’s eyes widened, and Tess thought that tears might have glimmered for a moment. “Is this why you asked for colored pencils yesterday?”
“I wanted to thank you,” Tess said. “Would you tell me more stories?”
“I am here to serve you,” Emery said with a little curtsy. Her long black hair was pinned back in a complex style Tess had never seen. “Would you care for breakfast?”
“Sure,” Tess said. “Could I have eggs again?”
“Scrambled with cheese?” Emery asked. “Toast on the side?”
“Yum,” Tess said, following Emery to the dining room shared by all the companions except Kendra.
“What would you like to hear about?” Emery asked as she tied on an apron.
“Yesterday you told me about the different giants,” Tess said. “How the night giants and the hill giants protect the gentle giants. And how the sea giants almost went extinct. And how the sky giants used to live in a floating kingdom.”
“Good memory,” Emery said.
“What was it like being a dragon?” Tess asked.
Emery paused, an egg in her hand. “Dragons are a difficult topic for me. Too many painful memories.”
“Sorry,” Tess said. “It seemed interesting.”
“It is very interesting,” Emery said, cracking another egg into the pan.
“Why is this sanctuary called Titan Valley?” Tess asked. “Are there titans here?”
“There is one actual titan,” Emery said. “The father of the Giant Queen.”
“How big is he?” Tess asked.
“Much bigger than the Giant Queen,” Emery said. “But he has slept for centuries.”
“Where does he sleep?” Tess asked.
“In the Valley of the Sleeping Giants,” Emery replied.
“Are there many sleeping giants?” Tess asked.
“It’s hard to be sure,” Emery said. “Some can be clearly identified. They are the servants of the titan.”
“Are the servants big?” Tess asked.
“You tell me,” Emery said, leading Tess to a window. “See that ridge out there? Do you see how it kind of looks like an old man lying on his back? Hands on his chest? Feet poking up? See his face in profile? His nose and chin?”
“It does look like a man,” Tess said.
“He is Pietro, one of the sleeping giants,” Emery said.
“He looks bigger than the Giant Queen,” Tess said.
“Don’t say that too loudly,” Emery cautioned. “But yes, he is. Most of the sleeping giants are larger than the queen.”
“Is he made of dirt and rocks?” Tess asked. “He has trees and bushes on him!”
“The sleeping giants have slumbered so long that they are merging with the landscape,” Emery said. “Some claim they are long dead and will never awaken. Others maintain the sleeping giants are merely dormant and may someday rise again.”
“Where is the titan?” Tess asked.
“I’ve heard that the titan, Garocles, slumbers in a vast cavern at the far end of the Valley of the Sleeping Giants. He hibernates on a huge slab by the blue light of an eternal flame.”
“Does he look like a giant?” Tess asked.
“An enormous giant in a white toga,” Emery said. “The sky giants pattern their dress after him. He is technically the Dragon Slayer of Titan Valley, though none of us have ever seen him active.”
“Can he wake up?” Tess asked.
“Only the Giant Queen knows.”
“Can I go see him?”
Emery shook her head. “None are allowed in the Valley of the Sleeping Giants, let alone into the titan’s shrine. It is sacred ground for the giants.”
“I bet it isn’t sacred to dragons,” Tess said.
“I would rather not speak for the dragons,” Emery said. “As for myself, I think it is best to let sleeping giants lie.”
“Probably smart,” Tess agreed.
“Your eggs are ready,” Emery said, using a spatula to slide fluffy scrambled eggs onto a plate beside two pieces of wheat toast.
“I’m not sure I can eat so much,” Tess said.
“Eat what you can,” Emery said. “Through the eyes of a giant, it is a miniscule portion, so any waste will seem small.”
Knox sat at breakfast with the satyrs, munching a crisp piece of bacon, hot and crunchy, the way his dad made it. For some reason his mom and sister liked their bacon less done, a little chewier.
Newel took a long sip of apple juice and wiped his lips with his hairy forearm. “This is the life. I hope we’re exiles forever.”
“It really is the only way to travel,” Doren said. “I’ve never had servants. Doesn’t take long to grasp the appeal.”
Knox forked a fragment of pancake and used it to mop up some of the excess syrup on his plate. “Doesn’t it make you a little nervous that breakfast was made by something that could eat you for breakfast?”
Newel glanced toward the kitchen. “Emery? In her dragon state, I wouldn’t want to come within a hundred miles of her.”
“She knows our names,” Doren observed. “And we sometimes get a little bossy.”
“You were the one who wanted french fries in the middle of the night,” Newel accused. “I was content with those leftover croissants.”
Knox lowered his voice, eyes on Emery, who was washing dishes. “I have a feeling that if this preserve falls, we will have some really furious dragons on our hands,” he said. Did a small, knowing smile bend Emery’s lips? If so, it vanished as swiftly as it came.
“For now, we’re just following instructions,” Newel said. “Don’t forget, they’re serving us, but they’re also spying for the Giant Queen.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be courteous,” Doren murmured. He raised his voice. “Emery, these pancakes are a dream come true. And the bacon! I ate twice my normal helping.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed the food,” Emery said.
“Can I help with the dishes?” Doren asked, clearing his plate and utensils.
“Please, no,” Emery said. “Allow me the privilege of doing my duty.”
“Sorry I asked for those french fries the other night,” Doren mentioned.
“Ask again,” Emery said. “Make your wishes known, and I will endeavor to fulfill them.”
“This is the life!” Newel mouthed.
Warren poked his head into the dining room. “Meeting at Kendra’s. We’re receiving assignments.”
Knox wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m not getting left behind,” he said.
Newel looked at him with a deadpan expression. “We have very different goals.”
The three of them rose from the table and hurried down the hall. Knox found Tess, Vanessa, Tanu, Warren, and Kendra ready and waiting.
“The Fairy Realm has fallen,” Kendra announced gravely.
“What?” Tess exclaimed with a gasp. “How?”
“We’ve gotten word the Fairy King let Ronodin in with a bunch of dragons,” Kendra said. “The dark unicorn stole the crown from the Fairy Queen, so fairies are now under his command.”
“What about satyrs?” Knox asked, glancing at Newel and Doren.
“I’m offended,” Doren said, folding his arms.
“Ronodin is now technically our king,” Newel said. “We’ve never paid much attention to those protocols. Maybe a little on holidays. He has no practical power over us, but the fairies are a different matter.”
“The fairy explained that satyrs are more loosely bound to the crown,” Kendra said.
“Can he mess up your fairykind status?” Tess asked.
“The fairy didn’t think so,” Kendra said. “Except I may not be able to give fairies orders anymore.”
“This is horrible news,” Newel said. “If we keep losing ground, what will be left?”
“We have to fight back,” Kendra said. “Warren, Tanu, Vanessa, and I are going to the Dragon Temple to recover the Harp of Ages. It can put dragons to sleep.”
“I’m going too,” Knox said. “Final answer. I have spoken.”
“We need you to lead a different mission,” Kendra said.
“Lead?” Knox checked.
“You, Tess, and the satyrs must go to Humburgh and find Seth,” Kendra said. “Knowing you guys are taking care of that problem will allow us to raid the Dragon Temple.”
“How far away is Humburgh?” Knox asked.
“Too far to walk,” Kendra said. “But we have friends in high places who will smuggle you there through the same passage the Giant Queen uses. It will take a matter of minutes.”