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.”
“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,
