“Awe, little Damian was just looking at little Theressa like he’s worried about her, but he’s not doing it anymore,” Mary said disappointedly.
Little Damian took an inconspicuous look around to see who else noticed his little fumble. Everyone seemed interested by his possible display of cognitive abilities, but Vance and old Dean in particular had slightly furrowed brows, like they were trying to discern something.
“Crap,” little Damian though, “those two have really good hearing. They might be listening to my heartbeat.” A mentally challenged infant’s heart shouldn’t sound like a jackhammer because someone pointed and said ‘look.’”
He needed to calm his racing heart. To achieve the world record for holding his breath the longest, a man slowed his heart rate using meditation and ice water.
Ice water wasn’t an option. “Into my cave. Into my cave. Step deeper into my cave,” little Damian hastily thought.
It worked. Little Damian lowered his heartbeat, and though old Dean was still observing him, he switched topics. “So Vance, what did you learn?” he asked the hooded black cat, who’s gaze was also still lingering on little Damian.
“Why all the men and equipment is headed east,” he replied.
Little Damian let the penguin in his mind’s cave drift away and allowed his thoughts to race. He’d have to be especially careful around these two. If he shows a pattern of heart palpitations correlated to circumstances he should have no or limited comprehension of, old Dean would catch on immediately, and Vance doesn’t seem to let anything escape his notice. Little Damian would have to learn how to control his heart rate, breathing, eye moments, and maybe even his pupil dilation. He needed to master these skills, and fast. One sympathetic glance at an adorable kitten nearly got him busted this time. He wouldn’t let there be a next time. Keeping his secret in a world of might and magic was going to be harder than he had realized.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
“If this really was my own doing, I’d like to ask myself one simple question. What was I thinking? One tiny misstep and I’ll get busted, then a thousand years of suffering?” little Damian was inclined to believe that he was not the author of the message. Still, he’d have to carefully coordinate all of his bodily functions from this point forward. His every movement was under scrutiny. Maybe or maybe not by the gods, but this old man had his eyes on him, and his ears.
Before Vance could elaborate, Little Theressa woke up and started crying. Little Damian snapped his attention to the kitten before quickly becoming disinterested, just like he had practiced. Dillon and Rose, who’d been eagerly observing him, looked dejected. Vance rubbed his palm across his face, his thoughts moved onto Little Theressa.
It was old Dean that was worrisome. He was still studying him like one would an unsolved puzzle.
“This is bad,” little Damien thought. He’d have to live there for maybe his whole life. Old Dean was too smart, if he started getting suspicious now, that could spell disaster for a little Damian in the future.
He needed to get his grandfather to stop scrutinizing him, and he needed to do something now. Little Damian played his trump card.
“Did somebody make a pee pee?” Rose happily asked the culprit. It was another rhetorical question. This time little Damian was happy to hear it. He was less happy about the tickling. Though it felt more like violent poking, he was used to it by now, and remained expressionless.
Little Theressa was doing one of her three usual activities, which thankfully, was feeding, so with a steely finger gouging at his undefended abdomen, little Damian was finally able to hear Vance’s report.