Don't worry, says Fidella, kindly. Vigor…strange, yes, but harmless. Doesn't Speak very well, but listens.
Owl trusts Fidella's judgement.
Still.
Owl was barely paying attention that night—Cassandra was too full of Anger Scorn Vengeance What-Once-Was-Mine for him to focus—but he's pretty sure Rapunzel said that, if there was anything left of Demanitus, it vanished back into the monkey. And Fidella said she couldn't Hear anything at all from Vigor. So he's probably just an animal now, not an Animal.
Worth looking, though.
Vigor is indeed Silent. For all that he jumps around, chews idly on things, makes odd noises that lead Madame Canardist to write something down on a piece of paper—for all that, Owl doesn't Hear anything.
She gives the piece of paper to Cassandra, who reads it to herself.
"Wha—what's this supposed to mean?"
"You vill know," insists Madame Canardist, in what she probably thinks is a mysterious and foreboding way.
"Look," says Cassandra, at the edge of her patience, "for the last time, we're not here to get a fortune. We're here—"
This is going to take a while.
The monkey turns to Owl, seems to notice him for the first time. One beady eye almost slides over him.
Owl, says Owl, by way of introduction.
The monkey says, Owl.
Every single one of Owl's feathers fluff up at once, and he stretches his wings as far as they can go and he screeches.
Because Vigor is old.
And Vigor is wrong.
(Excerpt from a future chapter of By Running Away, fourth in the Golden Gleam series.)
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