“I grew up amongst humans.” It felt strange, talking of humans as if they were a separate group.

“What did James want with you?”

Kyra repeated what she had told Pashla earlier, hoping that any quaver in her voice would be interpreted as nervousness instead of deception. She stuck to the truth up to the point where James commanded her to kill Malikel. Then she told the story as if the disagreement had happened right before James tried to kill her.

Pashla stepped in front of Kyra. “Our blood runs strong in her. You can’t see it because she’s injured, but you can smell it clearly in her blood.”

“Let me see.” Leyus held out his hand.

Pashla nudged her toward him. “Let him smell your blood.”

“What?”

Pashla motioned with her hand toward her mouth. “Draw blood, like I did to show you.”

Kyra stared dumbly at her palm. Choking down raw meat was one thing, but this…Her hand refused to move any closer to her mouth.

Pashla exhaled in frustration and grabbed Kyra’s arm, clamping her teeth down before Kyra had a chance to react. Kyra flinched, but she felt only a pinch. When Pashla released her arm, a small patch of skin was broken and a drop of blood pooled on top. With one last exasperated look, Pashla offered Kyra’s arm to Leyus. He pulled her closer and held her arm beneath his nose the way a nobleman might sample fine wine.

“Half human,” he finally said. “Can you change?”

“I’ve never done so.”

“We can try after her injuries heal,” said Pashla.

Leyus regarded her closely. “It’s unusual to find a halfblood so far from any clan. Are you sure you remember nothing of where you came from?”

She wished people would stop asking her that. “I’ve always been in the city, amongst humans.”

“Her injuries are severe,” said Pashla. “She must stay at least until she heals enough to travel.”

“In these times, it may not be wise to harbor a halfblood,” said Leyus.

A chill went up Kyra’s spine as she looked from Leyus, to Pashla, and back to Leyus. If it wasn’t wise to harbor a halfblood, what was the alternative? She doubted it involved sending her off with a basket of food and well-wishes.

“She’s under our care now,” Pashla said. “I found her and brought her here on your orders.”

Pashla switched to their own language as Kyra studied their faces, trying desperately to read their conversation. It was madness to escape death just to be executed here, but she was too weak to run. After a few more exchanges, Leyus put up a hand.

“You’ve made your case. We will keep her with us until her injuries heal,” he said.

“This is madness!” shouted a man from the crowd. Everyone turned to find the new speaker.

“You speak out of turn, Brona,” said Leyus.