Oliver recovered from his surprise at seeing the Trebbon. “Hello, Melkem. What brings you here?”
“I have been conscripted by Young Vamira,” the Trebbon said genially. “She wanted me to check on you and see how you were faring.”
“Oh,” Oliver said, unable to keep his voice from slipping a little. “That’s kind of her.”
The Trebbon stared for several seconds at Oliver. He squirmed a little under the carven eyes, leaking sap, as they always did. Then, Melkem sighed creakily. “I see she was right to be worried.”
“Huh?” Oliver said, taken off guard.
“It hardly takes a mind reader to see that you are upset, Young Oliver.” Melkem steepled his twiggy fingers beneath his chin. “I can’t help but feel that I share a good deal of blame for that.”
“Oh, no,” Oliver assured him quickly, "I've been fine, really."