Chapter 228: Terms (1)

On the morning of the eleventh day, Sera began leaving honey cakes on the stone bench beneath the plum tree.

Encrid watched her from his window.

She came out of the house carrying a small plate in both hands. After setting it on the bench, she arranged the cakes in a neat row and stepped back to admire her work. Then she clapped twice and called toward the garden.

"Pudding! Breakfast!"

Something came tumbling out of the hedge.

It was about the size of a cat, although Encrid suspected that was where the similarities ended. The creature had far too much fur and far too many legs. When it turned its head toward the house, he counted six eyes before deciding that counting the rest would be a waste of time.

Pudding ran in a wide, unsteady circle around the bench, caught one of its own feet beneath another, and tumbled into the grass.

Sera burst out laughing.

"Not there, silly. Up here. The cakes are on the bench."

Pudding looked at the bench, then at Sera. After a moment, it lowered its head and began sniffing the grass.

Encrid watched in silence as Sera tried to coax the creature into climbing. She pointed at the bench, called its name several more times, and even demonstrated by placing one foot on the stone seat. None of it helped.

Eventually, she gave up and scooped Pudding into her arms.

"You’ll never learn if I have to carry you everywhere," she told it, brushing grass from its fur as she took it inside.

The plate remained on the bench.

An hour later, Sera returned to the garden and stopped in front of the empty plate.

"Pudding!" she exclaimed. "You did it! You finally managed to get up here!"

From his window, Encrid could see the creature sitting in her arms. All six of its visible eyes were fixed on the plate, and its expression was difficult to interpret.

He turned away before Sera could look toward the house and catch him smiling.

? ? ?

The same thing happened the next morning, and the morning after that.

Every day, Sera left a plate of honey cakes on the bench. Every day, Pudding failed to climb up and was carried back inside for one reason or another. And every day, the plate was empty when Sera returned, prompting another round of praise for the creature.

Encrid never mentioned what he had seen.

He also made a point of keeping his eyes away from the top of the garden wall.

By the fourth evening, however, his curiosity had become difficult to contain.

"Do you like honey," he said silently.

The answer came from behind his eyes.

{ I do not know what you mean. }

"The honey cakes. You have been eating them every morning." ℯ𝐥.𝒄ℴ𝓶

{ The many-eyed creature ate them. The girl said so herself. }

"Pudding can’t climb a bench."

The voice fell silent.

For a moment, Encrid thought the dragon had decided the conversation was beneath it. Then its answer came, carrying the same cold certainty as before.

{ It is a very stupid animal. }

Encrid pressed his lips together.

He decided not to pursue the matter any further.

? ? ?

On the fifteenth day after waking, Encrid managed to sit on the stone bench without assistance.

The Sage had accompanied him outside, though he had spent most of the walk complaining about how much trouble a single patient could cause. Once Encrid was seated, the old man returned to the house, muttering about a pot he had left on the fire.

The morning was cool, and the sunlight fell gently across the garden. Encrid’s recovery had been slow, and even the short walk from the house had left him tired. The wounds along his side were still healing beneath their bandages, and his body had not yet recovered enough strength for him to move without care.

A little distance away, Sera was attempting to teach Pudding how to fetch.

She had rolled a piece of cloth into a ball and thrown it across the grass. Pudding watched it sail through the air, apparently giving the entire exercise considerable thought. Then, instead of chasing the ball, it turned toward the bench and spotted Encrid.

Its many eyes brightened.

Before Encrid could react, the creature came charging toward him.

For something with so many legs, it moved remarkably quickly. Its feet carried it across the grass in an uneven rush, and a high, excited sound escaped its mouth as it approached the bench. ℯℓ.

Encrid saw what it intended to do a moment before it happened.

Pudding gathered its legs beneath its body and prepared to leap straight into his lap.

The stitches along his side were still raw. A single careless impact could reopen the wound, and he was in no condition to catch the creature or turn it aside.

He tried to move, but his body was too slow.

Pudding jumped.

Then it stopped in midair.

The creature hung a hand’s width above Encrid’s knees, its legs stretched forward and its eyes wide with confusion. It struggled briefly, but whatever held it in place did not yield. After a moment, it began drifting sideways, moving as gently as a leaf carried by a slow current.

It descended onto the grass beside the bench and landed upright.

Pudding remained where it was, blinking in bewilderment.

Encrid stared at it.

He had not seen anything. He had not heard a spell being cast, nor felt the disturbance of Star Energy. Yet the creature had been lifted out of the air and placed safely on the ground without anything touching it.

There was only one explanation he could think of.

Sera hurried over, her face filled with concern.

"I’m so sorry! Did he hit you?"

"No," Encrid replied. "He must have slipped."

"Slipped?" She looked at Pudding, then back at him. "He was jumping straight at you. I’ve never seen him do that before."

She bent down and picked up the creature, examining its many legs as though she expected to find an explanation hidden among them.

"Pudding, you can’t jump on people like that. He’s still hurt. You could have pulled his stitches."

Pudding made a small sound that might have been a protest.

"I don’t want to hear it," Sera said, carrying him away. "You’ll have to learn to behave eventually."

Encrid watched them cross the garden before lowering his gaze to his hands.

He had been certain the dragon was watching him. Now he had proof that it was willing to interfere, even if it refused to admit it.

{ It was going to step on you. }

The voice appeared behind his eyes, carrying a faint note of disgust.

{ You are fragile. }

? ? ?