Jack struck straight at the hive mind's core, not holding back.

  "Go away, Ki'moto!"

  He knelt in the darkness, afraid one wrong step would send him plummeting down the hole. His mind raced with visions of the desperate scramble—hands clawing for purchase on the rungs, fingers slipping free, his body surrendering to gravity's pull until he met the bottom with a sickening crunch.

  The room held its silence for a moment before a soft white light materialized, revealing the creature's face mere inches from his own, twisted into a wicked grin.

  "Jack, why do we feel you're unhappy to see us?"

  "Friend? Not friend! Not happy," came the chorus.

  Jack leaned away, scowling. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

  "Oh, Jack. Isn't it obvious? Are we so different that you cannot recognize our needs? We are like you. We seek to share, to belong. Are we not worthy of your circus?"

  "Circus freaks! Freaks of the circus! Accept!" the chorus wailed.

  Jack leaned in until he was nose-to-nose with the shifting faces—or at least those with noses. He kept his voice low, not wanting his friends below to hear.

  "Are you out of your fucking minds? I don't need this right now."

  The creature fell silent, its grin melting into a somber glare, but the chorus made their hurt clear.

  "Hurtful words! Mean words! Hateful," the chorus wailed and whimpered.

  Jack pinched the bridge of his nose—a habit he had picked up from Rugr.

  "Look, I'm in the middle of something right now. Didn't we just do this?"

  "Yes, Jack. For us, it was merely a blink of time. We have not forgotten our name just yet. The trick is not to try—we must not try to remember. The very act of grasping for it makes it flee."

  A calm settled over the creature's faces as it contemplated.

  "We wish to join Jack. To perform our act. To stand for the applause. We long to be part of this traveling circus—to be where the action is."

  "Join! Perform! Belong!" the chorus cried with enthusiastic fervor.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Jack wouldn't even consider it. "No," he said, stretching the word for emphasis.

  "Rejected. Unworthy. Alone for all times. For all eternities."

  The chorus made a mournful, pitiful sound.

  The creature hissed for silence. "The day is not lost. Let me bargain with him!"

  The buzz of the chorus faded away, and then, without warning, the form shifted. The collage of faces melted away, replaced by the image of a frail, elderly man sitting cross-legged. His long gray beard draped over his lap, his eyes burdened with an incomprehensible tiredness. He looked like a figure torn from a forgotten fable.

  "This is my original form, Jack," the old man wheezed, his voice brittle. "A form I can return to when I know my true name. That is why I value it so dearly. For only in fleeting moments can I be... by myself."

  Jack blinked, unnerved. "Okay."

  “You are the first living soul to see this form for a thousand years. How do I look?”

  Jack squinted, trying to find the trick in the question.

  “Old?”

  "Hmmm. Do you prefer my other form?"

  "Maybe?" Jack said, his mind still confused by the sudden change.

  The old man wheezed a laugh that ended in a coughing fit. Jack could only watch, horrified that the man might die in his lap.

  "You're not going to die on me, are you?"

  The old man wheezed again but regained his composure more quickly.

  "You're a funny man, Jack, but we must be serious for a moment."

  "Okay," was all Jack could muster.

  “I would urge you to consider what will be offered. There is more danger than you may realize. There are things far worse than death, and the fates draw you into their devious web, hoping your suffering will provide entertainment. I cannot say more. In this form, I am bound by the limitations of a singular mind. I urge you to listen, Jack. Weigh it with care. Goodbye, for now, Jack. I can say no more.”

  Jack watched as the figure vanished.

  Like a nightmare taking form, the hive mind emerged from the shadows, its many faces glaring at him with malice.

  "What did that fool tell you, Jack? Does he seek to undermine us?" the creature hissed through clenched teeth.

  "Fool! Foolish! A foolish fool!" the chorus growled.

  “I’m not sure. It was hard to understand with all the wheezing and coughing,” Jack lied.

  Ki'moto turned away, and Jack sensed they were having an internal discussion among themselves.

  When they turned back, their faces held an unsettling serenity that put Jack on edge.

  "We have a secret, Jack. An urgent secret—dark and dangerous. We offer it in exchange for a small part in your circus. A side-show only."

  "No," Jack said, waving his arms.

  "Perhaps you don't care about protecting Kleo as much as you claim. One of your troupe poses a grave danger to the others."

  Jack froze. "What?"

  "Yes, Jack. Now you understand the value of what we offer. Perhaps we're asking too little in return."

  "More! Demand more! He must accept!" the chorus wailed.

  "The spider? Is it a trap?" Jack's voice wavered, the fear creeping in.

  "No guesses! And I quote your own words, Jack: It is not a game. It is a bargain."

  From below, Kleo’s voice rang up.

  "Jack, don’t make me climb back up there!"

  "I’m coming!" Jack shouted, the frustration clear.

  He glared at the creature. "Tell me now. No riddles."

  "Agree to the bargain," the creature whispered, its faces trembling with anticipation.

  "If the information is valuable, then the bargain is agreed. That’s the condition. Understood?"

  A chilling laughter spread through the air.

  “Oh, Jack. It is a secret, most juicy, and delicious. Regret will not burden you—but woe the dilemma you will find.”