“Your wounds are fresh. If you struggle, you will die. If you can’t understand that, I will tie you down.”

Kyra stared at the woman. “You’ve made a mistake.”

“You’ve noticed that you’re different, have you not? You can see better, do things the humans can’t.”

“There are others who can move like me,” Kyra said. Like her, but not exactly, a small voice insisted. No one else from the Guild could have broken into the Palace like she had.

“And you smelled our blood in your own. You can’t deny it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Very well, tell me this. How do other animals treat you? Do they fear your scent?”

“I’m a dog talker,” Kyra said. “But there are plenty of dog talkers in Forge.”

For the first time, Pashla looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“We call them beast talkers. Animals are drawn to them and do their bidding…” Kyra trailed off upon hearing her own words. The truth was, she’d never been a proper beast talker. Amongst the street children, there had once been a bird talker. Birds had flocked to him and sung him songs, perched on his arms. They’d adored him. Animals had never responded to Kyra like that.

“They fear you, don’t they?” said Pashla. “They cower or run away or panic. If our blood was weaker in someone, diluted by generations, perhaps animals would be drawn to him. But with you, they would flee.”

Pashla gathered Kyra’s soiled bandages. Kyra watched the way Pashla walked, the grace with which she negotiated the uneven floor. She felt an involuntary tightening in her own limbs as part of her recognized the woman’s movements as her own.

When Pashla returned, she made no further effort to convince Kyra, but settled in front of her and waited.

“There must be some mistake. I never even knew you existed. And I can’t—” Kyra waved her hand vaguely toward the corner of the tent where the woman had changed shape. “If I were one of you, I’d know.”

The woman nodded. “Your blood is mixed, and the ability to change shape doesn’t always pass on to those with human blood. But you’re right. Even if you couldn’t change, you would know. It would show through in dreams and the way you move, see, and smell, the speed with which you heal, or a preference for the darkness….”