I carefully write, cautiously wishing to verify my assumption as my stomach sinks.

  Shrinking back again, the little, mousy creature scowls as he timidly answers my question.

  “Of course. Who else would make deals other than the head?”

  Oh sacred deep mind, thank you for making me doubt that awful, disgusting fruit. Would I have also ended up as some bloody mess if I’d eaten it? Or Ha’koff? Imagine all the evil that may have come to pass if I had listened to that jerk and his friends. Enough of this gruesome subject. Need to change topics before he gets too depressed and retreats away from everything again.

  “The heart?” the suddenly very eager little critter practically squawks, instantly thrusting forward and out of his hole entirely. “The heart are so heroic! Champions of the cause, always courageously charging to the front and bravely commanding. Brilliant orators, genius strategic planners, and wizened defenders of fairness. The glorious, valorous heart, oh how I miss them all. If only I was amongst them once again!”

  Clearly he believes the heart to be a force for good. All of them? That must mean that there’s more than one. Curious. However, what about the deals and the blood then? Is the heart not also related to that? Do I really want more information about this? Is it really worth risking a visit to anyone else connected to all this blood that he clearly fears so much?

  I write, attempting to politely change the subject over to my more immediate needs.

  “Maps? Why would anyone need a map? Just tell the foot where you need to go. That’s what that wonderful spirit is here for, after all. Assuming you possess the mud to call it.”

  “Oh, I see your conundrum. I’m very well travelled. However, I always simply followed the heart and never really concerned myself with the details. Perhaps you should also follow the heart?”

  “Have faith! They’ll always be there when you need them most. Just wait. You’ll see!”

  This conversation is proving even less productive than the one with the memory. I’m running very low on safe, new exploration options. I’ve already attended to the hand, head, memory, and ears. The mouth as well on Kyklos, come to think of it. That leaves the blood, heart, eyes, stomach, and nose. Unless I learn of more. The blood, heart, and stomach sound far too risky. The eye is incredibly intimidating, but perhaps worth a try. Assuming that I can find him. That leaves the nose.

  The creature shrinks back into his hole, retreating in fear from the question.

  “The nose? Why do you want to know about him?”

  “He does seem to know everyone, doesn’t he? If he calls you, assure that you drop everything and go with him. It’s very dangerous to refuse. He gets angry whenever anyone tries to tell him no, after all. I don’t recommend doing it.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Ugh. Do I really want to visit someone like that? Is this another dead end then? What’s left to ask? Oh, what about the big picture? His commentary at least stands a chance of being far more sane than the memory’s.

  The mousy creature freezes solid. Is it afraid again? Did I do something wrong?

  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to forgive me,” he slowly explains after roughly a minute’s wait. “I couldn’t think of anything nice to say. I needed the time.”

  Is he angry at the Will? How interesting! That’d make him the first aspect that I’ve met who takes issue with it. All the others are almost worshipful. Adoring. Is there some sort of schism?

  “How can you not know the Will? That’s so… charming. It’s so obvious and clear. We’re all united in the Will. It’s everything and everywhere and everyone. The fact that you don’t know that, it’s so… blessed.”

  Never mind. This was just as useless as with the memory. Time to drastically change tactics.

  “Who? Anatoly? Who is that? What a ridiculous question. The Will is the Will and only the Will. It needs no other names.”

  That confirms that the big ones aren’t obsessively chasing after us, if they even know who we are. Whoever this Anatoly person is, he must be entirely unrelated to our bizarre, hodgepodge confederacy. Oh, come to think of it, that’s another good question.

  Again, he freezes solid. I wish he’d just verbally chastise my stupid questions. It’s so much more insulting this way.

  “I apologize. The Will is the clear leader of us all. There is no question. There may be no other. No one would ever accept it.”

  Bursting out from his hole again, the mousy creature sprints up to my feet and brightly stares straight up into my eyes with an intimidating twinkle.

  “The heart! Ah, now I see your very understandable confusion. They do indeed stand in the front and command, but ultimately it is the Will who truly leads. Even the brave heart wisely answers to the Will, after all.”

  Out of questions, I decide to grab Ha’koff and head back to the mound to mull things over. There must be something of value buried in all the information that I’ve gathered. Besides, I can always come back and ask more questions later. That may be a terrible idea with the memory, but the ears seems nice and welcoming. Hardly a monster at all. Unlike all the others. Exceptions make the rule, I suppose.

  “Oh? But you can’t leave,” the ears whispers, showing his deeply saddened, teary eyes and placing a tiny, reassuring paw on my foot.

  “Wat?” I ask in surprise at the little creature’s strange, longing comment.

  “I was wonderfully surprised that you made it inside in the first place. Very clever, very clever. However, now that you’re in, this place is completely sealed. That’s the only way to keep all the blood out, after all. Lock up all the doors very, very tight!”

  “Ind? Wat ind? Agob Jok?” I nervously question, uncomfortable with the sudden change in tenor of his words.

  “No, of course you’re not trapped here, silly. I would never stoop to something that lowly against someone of your immense stature. You simply can’t get out. Can’t leave. Have to stay here forever! Or at least until your current mud expires and returns you both to the pits, I suppose.”