“Hello, David. It is good to hear from you. How are you doing?”

David had contacted his old guide using the mental discipline Samuel had taught him years ago. Given Samuel’s knowledge of horrors, he seemed the most likely to be able to help David with this current problem.

“Greetings, sir. I am well. And yourself?”

“We’ve talked about this. You have come into your own, and we are equals. No more ‘sir.’”

“Yes, sir. . . . Sorry.”

Samuel gave the impression of a chuckle. “Keep working at it. Now I doubt this is merely a courtesy conversation. What is troubling you?”

“I have encountered a horror.”

HIs guide’s presence lost all sense of light-heartedness. “Your mind is still intact?”

“Yes, s. . .” David caught himself. “I remember my training. The horror is rather small and weak; it is secure and poses no threat. However, the owner of the house where I found it was exposed. Her mind is deteriorating.”

“That is unfortunate. Was she a friend of yours?”

“No. Just someone I was trying to help.”

“Still, I am sorry about her fate.”

“I am hoping you would know how to reverse it.”

“Reverse it? There is no way to reverse the kind of mental damage done by a horror. Even a small one. I’m afraid she is beyond help.”

“That can’t be right. There must be something to be done.”

“If it were you, or someone who had your mental training . . . Maybe. But a lay person with no experience? She is lost.”

“I can’t accept that.”

“David,” Samuel had switched into his “teacher” voice. “I know I taught you that we don’t always win. That sometimes things happen which are beyond our control. If she has fallen victim to the madness, we are helpless. As difficult as it is, we need to acknowledge our own limitations.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are your own person now. I cannot tell you what to do; that is your decision. But if you still value my experience, you will take my advice, my advice as a peer, and let this go.”

“Thank you, s. . . Samuel. I do appreciate your advice.”

The connection between them ended, and David was left with his disappointment. One thing kept nagging at him, though. If there truly was nothing to be done, why bother warning him to let it go? If nothing would help, what was the harm in the attempt? Perhaps there was something that might work, something dangerous. But what?