“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,
