by Brandon Mull
“You destroyed the Wizenstone,” Humbuggle said slowly.
Seth inspected both sides of the Unforgiving Blade. “The knife survived it.”
“I admit I had hoped for this,” Humbuggle said, as if in shock. “But I hardly believe it.”
Looking closely at the demon dwarf, Seth noticed he looked more haggard than before, with deeper creases in his skin and more gray in his forked beard. “You wanted me to destroy the Wizenstone?”
“I had to keep the hope secret,” Humbuggle said. “Quiet embers in my heart, simmering beneath conscious thought.”
“Secret from who?” Seth asked.
“From the Wizenstone, my boy.” Humbuggle rubbed his hands together. “My bargain with the stone was struck long ago, after Graulas failed to master it. Graulas was much more powerful than I and significantly stronger. I knew if his might failed, mine could never be sufficient. So instead I made an arrangement. I became the servant of the stone.”
“You could hear it?” Seth asked. “Talk to it?”
“Anyone could,” Humbuggle said, “if they knew how to speak, and how to listen.”
“The Wizenstone controlled you?” Seth asked.
“Not entirely,” Humbuggle said. “But in most ways that really matter. It was pure pleasure at first. Being the servant of the stone came with enormous privileges. As part of the agreement, I ran contests in which others could try to win the stone. Graulas may have been more powerful, but I have yet to meet anyone more clever than I am. I devised Games that nobody could win. And if somebody did win, the only real option would be to take my place as the servant of the stone, because none are strong enough to wield it for long.”
“If I had killed you, I would have had to replace you,” Seth said.
“Or to step aside and let somebody else replace me,” Humbuggle said. “Perhaps Celebrant. One with enough power could handle the Wizenstone for a time, but it would eventually destroy them. The vast majority would dissolve to ashes on contact. Only by letting the stone wield me have I survived.”
“And now I have freed you,” Seth said.
“Exactly,” Humbuggle said. “I set up the final Game with the Unforgiving Blade so there would be a hidden option of destroying the stone—a secret choice that I had to hide from myself and therefore from the stone controlling me. That part was not so hard. I learned self-deceit long ago. Most of us do. What I needed was somebody who might see and actually exercise the option. A champion who could win the Games, but who would do so without having ownership of the Wizenstone as their primary motive.”
“You set me up for this,” Seth said.
“I’m always laying plans,” Humbuggle said. “I could not know what you would do. I only felt sure it would be interesting.”
“You couldn’t destroy the stone yourself?” Seth said.
“No,” Humbuggle said. “That would have violated my arrangement with the stone. You did what I needed.”
“How many times have I met you before?” Seth asked.
“Some of them you don’t remember,” Humbuggle said. “At Stormguard Castle I appeared to you as myself, and also as a lad named Augie, and as an old man named Pietro, modeled after one of the Sleeping Giants here at Titan Valley.”
“You appeared as a giant?” Seth asked.
“A scaled-down version,” Humbuggle said. “Human sized. I have also appeared to you in three forms here at Titan Valley. Can you guess who?”
Seth thought about it. “The hag?”
“Yes, Esmira,” Humbuggle said. “I wanted to point you toward the Diviner. Who else?”
“Not Virgil,” Seth said.
“The satyr is authentic,” Humbuggle said. “But I sent you to him.”
“Wait, you were Dante?” Seth asked.
“I’d show you,” Humbuggle said. “But without the Wizenstone, I can’t transform like that anymore. I hoped you would collect the memories of the Dragon Slayer.”
“You manipulated me,” Seth said.
Humbuggle shrugged. “I provided introductions. I was also the gladiator Per, who guided you toward Merek back when he was Fenrick.”
“Would you have really let me kill you just now?” Seth asked.
Humbuggle nodded. “I wanted this to end hundreds of years ago. I accepted death as a viable escape. I’ve been a slave to the Wizenstone far too long. But I couldn’t deliberately die, any more than I could purposely sabotage the stone. I could only set the right person on a course and hope they would destroy it.”
“Are your powers gone?” Seth asked.
“So much is gone,” Humbuggle said. “Many aspects of Humburgh were sustained by the power of the Wizenstone, along with the protections hiding this treasury.”
“The pocket dimensions!” Seth exclaimed.
“The pocket dimensions are designed to unravel slowly in the event that the sustaining power of the Wizenstone is lost. Those dimensions are collapsing, including the island with the arena, but the people there will be thrown free.”
“What about the gladiators?” Seth asked.
“All of the combatants will be freed,” Humbuggle said. “Some have been there for eons. Most will lack their memories. Those memories will also be roaming free.”
“What will happen to this place?” Seth asked.
“My treasury does not rely on the Wizenstone for structural or electrical support,” Humbuggle said. “But the spells hiding it have dissipated, and the magical defenses are down. This treasure house is now vulnerable.”
“Don’t you have any power of your own?” Seth asked.
Humbuggle looked down at his hands, flexing them. Seth had not noticed so many liver spots before. “The absence of the stone is aging me. I’m not sure how far it will go. I haven’t relied on my own power for so long that it has atrophied. I can do some basic things. Disappear, for example. It will take time to regain my former skills.”
The treasure box shook, then hopped twice.
“Your memories are restless,” Humbuggle said.
“I can still claim them?” Seth checked.
“Yours for the taking,” Humbuggle said. “Consider it a gratuity for services rendered.”
“All my senses tell me that I shouldn’t trust you,” Seth said.
Humbuggle shrugged. “You’ve been deceived by demons in the past. Even without your memories, your instincts are admirably tuned. Whether or not you trust me, for now I am willing to speak the truth.”
“You could have picked a lot of people,” Seth said. “Why me?”
Humbuggle smiled. “I have lived an extremely long time, and I have met many individuals. They come in so many varieties, but there are patterns. Almost all of those willing to risk their lives to win the Wizenstone are the sort who would wreak havoc with its power after they obtained it. By their nature, the Games recruit contestants who should never wield tremendous power. You can witness the same principle in your world as candidates aspire to high political offices.”
“I get what you mean,” Seth said.
“I’ll share a secret,” Humbuggle said. “Demons do not like it mentioned, but being a demon is not a natural heritage. Nobody is born a demon. Did you know that?”
“Don’t demons have children?” Seth asked.
“Less frequently than you might suppose, but yes, some do,” Humbuggle said. “And the babies are not demons. They must be trained. They can choose to become demons. But not one demon started out the way they ended up. They grow monstrous over time. Any thinking being can qualify. It’s why there is so much variety among demonkind.”
“You used to be a normal dwarf?” Seth asked.
Humbuggle nodded and tugged on his beard. “Long ago, once upon a time, I was a mere dwarf. Like all demons, I gradually evolved into the role. It worked for me. Did it make me happy? I have never met a h
appy demon. But powerful? Very few could compete with me in my prime.”
“Would you go back?” Seth asked. “To being a regular dwarf, I mean.”
Humbuggle’s eyes grew almost wistful, and he looked again upon the painting of the sunrise. “If such a thing were possible? Maybe, Seth. Maybe I would. But it would be like cramming an oak tree back into an acorn. I have become something else.”
“I still don’t understand why you picked me,” Seth said. “Except that I wasn’t after the Wizenstone.”
“I chose you because you have real power,” Humbuggle said.
“Because I’m a shadow charmer?” Seth asked.
Humbuggle chuckled. “That was a gift from Graulas. Useful, I suppose, but ultimately insignificant. Real power, lasting power, comes from knowing who you are.”
Seth laughed. “But I lost my memories.”
“Exactly,” Humbuggle said. “And without them, you might have regrown in a totally new way. Except you didn’t, even in the Under Realm with Ronodin to guide you. We like to imagine our identities are fixed, while in reality so many adjust like chameleons to fit the circumstances around them. We tend to develop based on how we are nurtured and to go where we are directed. Even rebellion is a reaction to what we are taught, and it follows its own predictable patterns. But there are also individuals with a deep sense of self that refuses to be denied. They hear an inner voice that overrides tampering. This rare individual will grow to a similar outcome no matter the influences. I can’t explain how this innate compass originates, but I recognize that you have it.”
“Why were you looking for that quality?” Seth asked.
“Because a person like that can see possibilities others cannot,” Humbuggle said. “This task required a certain caliber of character. Somebody with the inner strength to enact what most would consider unthinkable.”
“You saw that in me?” Seth asked.
“I made an educated guess,” Humbuggle said. “Even without your memories, you resisted focused attempts to lead you down alternate paths. It gave me hope you might be who I needed.”
The treasure chest rattled.
“Should I open it?” Seth asked.
“If you wish,” Humbuggle said. “Don’t forget, you won the Wizenstone. Even without the stone’s magic, the value of the gem is high.”
Seth collected the two halves of the Wizenstone and placed them in his satchel. They no longer emitted the same inner light, but they remained beautiful.
Seth faced the treasure chest. Using his power, he willed it to unlock, and the lid flew open. Seth sensed a presence emerge, much like the presence he had perceived in the cottage whom he had named Reggie.
Who locked me up? the presence asked. What am I? Where am I?
“It’s all right,” Seth said. “I’m here. I hear you.”
Did you imprison me? the presence asked angrily.
“No,” Seth said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
What took you so long? the presence asked.
“You weren’t easy to find,” Seth said.
Do I know you? the presence asked.
“You’re part of me,” Seth said. “You’re my memories. I lost you.”
I’m part of you? the presence asked. Don’t you mean you’re part of me?
“That too,” Seth said.
I have wings? the presence asked.
“Not when I lost you,” Seth said. “We have wings now.”
What should I do? the presence asked.
Seth spread his arms wide. “Come back to me. Become one with me again. It sounds weird but it will feel right. I saw a friend go through this.”
You do seem familiar, the presence said. We are one.
Seth felt the presence flow into him. His whole body tingled, especially in his chest, and his physical strength left him. He sat down hard, the Unforgiving Blade falling from his grasp to clatter against the floor.
Immediately Seth knew what had happened to his memories. He knew his memories had escaped the place where Humbuggle had first stored them, but then Humbuggle had recaptured the memories and kept them in a chest. The time spent in the chest blurred together but was consistently uncomfortable, frustrating, and scary.
He really was Seth Sorenson! Kendra really was his sister! He knew Knox and Tess and Newel and Doren! He remembered his parents and his grandparents! He remembered his old school and discovering Fablehaven and slaying Graulas! The more he thought, the more he found that all his memories were there. It was just a matter of catching up.
Wait. Did he really just abandon his sister on Beacon Hill, besieged by dragons? The deepening realization sickened him. To make matters worse, he had destroyed the weapon that would have given them the best chance for survival. He had known that cutting the Harp would leave them in a compromised position. But he hadn’t understood who he was risking. Kendra was likely fighting for her life at this very moment! What if she died because he left her behind? He could only hope that she might somehow survive with help from Merek and Raxtus.
He remembered Vanessa, and felt the terrible weight of her lost sight. He remembered his job as a co-caretaker of Wyrmroost. And he realized he had caused the fall of the sanctuary.
Biting his lower lip, Seth bowed his head. He had released the undead from the Blackwell. How could he have been so stupid! He had gotten Agad killed. He had enabled Celebrant’s escape. He had helped the Sphinx and Ronodin.
Suddenly Seth wished he could hide from his memories. Their weight was too much! In releasing Celebrant, he had destroyed the sanctuary he had sworn to protect. He had caused the fall of the other sanctuaries Celebrant had toppled.
Seth wasn’t sure he liked himself. His memories felt like enemies that he could not hold back, disproving anything good he had hoped about his identity.
“A lot to sort through?” Humbuggle asked.
Seth slumped forward and puked onto the marble floor. He could not control the sobs. He was a murderer!
“You may want to hurry,” Humbuggle said, rising. “They’re coming for you.”
With those words, Humbuggle snapped his fingers and vanished.
Seth stared blankly at the place where the demon dwarf had stood.
“You heard him,” Calvin said. “We have to get out of here!”
“Is that you, Calvin?” Seth asked.
“I’m still here,” Calvin said.
“Help me,” Seth whispered.
“Always,” Calvin assured him. “Though you have done the hardest stuff alone.”
“I destroyed the things I cared about most,” Seth said. “I’ve been my own worst enemy.”
“You didn’t know,” Calvin said. “Ronodin lied to you. He used you.”
“I let Graulas get free,” Seth said. “Before my memory loss. It got Coulter killed. And now I’ve done worse. I’ve sabotaged us all.”
“You parted ways with Ronodin,” Calvin said. “You figured that out on your own.”
“I need to get out of here,” Seth said. “I abandoned Kendra on a hill surrounded by dragons, in order to break some stupid stone and get my memories back. Careful what you wish for, Calvin. I earned these memories. People paid for them with their lives. They’re mine to own.”
“We still have a war to fight,” Calvin said. “And a curse to break.”
Seth squeezed his head between his hands. “Kendra will do better without me. How is anyone supposed to trust me? I don’t trust myself!”
Celebrant opened the door and entered, flanked by men and women bearing weapons. Seth assumed they were all dragons. He remained seated by his vomit.
“Where is the Wizenstone?” Celebrant asked.
“I destroyed it,” Seth said.
Celebrant nodded slowly. “So it would seem. You made a mess of things out there.” The Dragon King smiled. �
�The war is going well for us. I can live in a world without a Wizenstone, especially when that world also lacks the Harp of Ages.”
“Are you here to kill me?” Seth asked.
Celebrant shook his head. “No. Today I have a pledge to fulfill to the new Fairy King. You’re coming with me.”
Merek kept a tight hold of Kendra, strong hands compressing her upper arms, as the clang of the final string reverberated through her and across the earth and sky. Seth vanished, but the Harp remained, severed strings twisting and curling in unsightly directions.
“What happened?” Kendra asked. “Where did he go?”
“I’m not sure,” Merek said, releasing her arms. “I assumed Humbuggle would appear. Perhaps Seth was transported to him instead.”
“This was part of the Game?” Kendra asked.
“This was the end of the Game,” Merek said. “By cutting the strings of the Harp of Ages with the Unforgiving Blade, Seth just won the Wizenstone.”
“This was about a prize?” Kendra shook her head. “If he tries to claim the Wizenstone, he’ll be killed.”
“Seth knows the basics,” Merek said. “He’ll be smart about it. Meanwhile, we have a situation.”
The dragons that the Harp had put to sleep were waking and rising. The avatars climbing the hill looked around in confusion.
Picking up the damaged Harp, Merek raised his voice. “We awakened the slumbering dragons! Now leave us in peace! Fly away and do not return!”
The demand appeared to increase the confusion among those on the hillside. The dragons did not yet seem to realize the Harp had been destroyed.