The drool path led straight to a chamber… Governor-Advisor’s chambers. He paused for a moment, feet curling in the damp, a memory of discomfort passing deep through his belly… but no, it was only a memory. This moment, right now, he felt fine. Smiling, he slippy-slapped into the room.

There was Governor-Advisor all a-tremble. There was the oracle-apprentice, too, quivering in the corner. Oh, and there was the monstrous shadowy thing crouching before them.

He gazed at the thing. It was hairy—but not like an animal. No identifiable shape, it looked more like a jumbled collection of parts—a mouth here, a tail there, a distended, fur-wrapped body.… Even so, the thing seemed familiar—even uncomfortably familiar—but try as he might to remember its name, he was not sure it had one. He could see far, far down the creature’s gaping throat—a whole cavern of emptiness.

Whatever it was, it was hungry, he realized. Ravenous. It was staring, jaws wide and askew, ready to gulp down the figures before it. Governor-Advisor frantically patted the air in front of him, as though that would calm the creature.

Well, he thought, wiggling his toes in the puddle beneath his feet. Ravenous is ravenous. All creatures need to eat. Need some kind of sustenance. And this one looks like it’s been starving most of its life.

How does a creature become so very empty? he wondered. He felt a little sorry for it.

Slippy-slap. He hopped out of the room. He didn’t need to see it fill itself.

Halfway down the hall, he heard a short cry, a terrible crash—then all was quiet. A few moments later, the shadow tore past him again, jaws wet, belly full, and, at least for the moment, well satisfied. It roared out the door and into the night.

Slippy-slap. He bounced through the halls. He wondered briefly where the creature might go; he wondered whether it would find itself hungry again. He thought he, too, would like to go out into the dark.

Slippy-slap, he hopped down the immeasurably long hall. Slippy-slap, he hopped out the enormous door and down the grand stairs. Slap-slap-slap, he hopped over the dry stones until, finally, he felt the softness of grass beneath the pads of his feet. He sighed.

The night air was cool on his skin. The dew-soaked grass was damp on his belly. He hopped through the dark. He knew where he was going.

He knew where he was going, but suddenly, he couldn’t name it.

Hum, he tried to find the word. Hom. Hme. Hm.

No—where there had been a word, there was now just sensation. Green-shadowed, pond-wet, mud-deep.

Hm. It seemed more words were slipping from him. He felt them in his mouth, and then he did not feel them at all. Memories of sweet spoonfuls.

He hopped and hopped. The night was gentle about him. The stars spun above him. He felt himself a shadow in shadows. A shadow in water. Water in water.

He felt himself at last quiet and content and home.