Something touched Adrian's leg.
He woke instantly.
There was no slow return to consciousness. No moment of wondering where he was.
One second there was nothing.
The next, his body moved.
Adrian jerked backward so violently that his shoulder struck packed earth. His hands came up in front of him, fingers spread. His legs pulled close. Something behind him hit the roots.
His ears flattened against his head.
A sound tore out of his throat.
“HSS—!”
“FUCK!”
The man outside the hollow jumped backward.
A stick dropped from his hand.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
Adrian's heart hammered hard enough to hurt.
Rain.
Trees.
Grey daylight.
The hollow beneath the fallen tree.
Not the facility.
Not the corridor.
Not the creature.
A man.
Just a man.
He stood several metres away, staring at Adrian with almost as much alarm as Adrian felt looking at him.
Maybe fifty.
Possibly older.
Heavy work trousers disappeared into mud-covered boots. A weatherproof jacket hung open over several layers of clothing, and thick gloves covered his hands. A small pack sat high on his back.
There was nothing magical about him.
No armour.
No visible field.
No weapon beyond the tools hanging from his belt.
Just a man standing in a wet forest.
Adrian's breathing slowed by degrees.
The man's did too.
“What the hell?”
Adrian didn't answer.
The man looked at the hollow, then back at him.
“I thought you were dead.”
Adrian followed his gaze to the stick lying between them.
The man noticed.
“I called out first.”
Adrian swallowed.
He couldn't remember hearing him.
The man bent slowly and picked up the stick.
Adrian tensed.
Immediately, the man stopped.
Then he tossed it aside.
“All right.”
His hands remained where Adrian could see them.
“Sorry.”
Adrian said nothing.
The man's gaze moved over him.
Mud.
Blood.
Bare feet.
Bare legs.
The ruined lab coat.
One side had fallen open while he'd been sleeping.
Adrian followed the man's gaze and looked down.
The coat had slipped far enough aside to expose part of his chest.
His chest.
For a second, exhaustion made the sight feel strangely disconnected from him. Pale skin. The curve of one breast, partially exposed where the wet fabric had fallen away.
Then the reality of where he was caught up.
Adrian grabbed the front of the coat and pulled it closed.
The man's eyes moved away immediately.
“Sorry.”
Something tightened in Adrian's stomach.
The man hadn't stared.
Hadn't said anything.
He wasn't even looking anymore.
But Adrian suddenly became painfully aware of how he must appear.
He was sitting on the ground in what was effectively his only piece of clothing, holding it shut with one hand.
The man was standing.
Broad shoulders beneath a work jacket. Heavy boots. Thick gloves. Strong hands.
A utility knife hung from his belt.
Probably nothing more than a tool.
Adrian still noticed it.
Yesterday—or however many days ago yesterday actually was—he wasn't sure he would have.
Now he was barefoot, injured and exhausted, his only clothing torn badly enough that letting go of it could expose him again.
Smaller than the man.
Much lighter, probably.
And sitting on the ground.
If the man came closer, Adrian wasn't sure what he could do about it.
The thought arrived quietly.
That made it worse.
His eyes returned to the knife.
The man followed them.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the man stepped backward.
“I'm staying here.”
Adrian looked up.
The man indicated the ground beneath his boots.
“I'm not coming closer.”
Adrian gave a small nod.
Only then did he notice the marks on the trees.
Bright orange paint crossed one trunk. Another carried a smaller symbol.
There were traces of the same colour on the man's gloves, and a marking canister was clipped to his pack.
A forest worker.
A normal reason to be here.
The realization helped.
A little.
The man's attention returned to the blood covering Adrian's coat.
“Are you hurt?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Badly?”
Another pause.
“I don't know.”
“Can you stand?”
Adrian looked at his legs.
“I think so.”
The man frowned.
“Did you fall?”
“Were you attacked?”
Adrian's fingers tightened around the coat.
Images came too quickly.
The van.
Restraints.
The laboratory.
The woman reaching for the gun.
Claws curling around concrete.
“Yes.”
The man's expression changed.
“By who?”
Adrian looked past him into the trees.
“I don't know.”
He knew faces.
Nothing useful.
No names.
No organization.
Not even where the facility was.
The man waited a few seconds.
When Adrian said nothing more, he moved on.
“Anyone else out here?”
Adrian thought about that.
“I don't know.”
The answer came quieter this time.
The man's eyes moved briefly through the surrounding forest.
“Do you know where you are?”
Adrian shook his head.
“How long have you been out here?”
“I don't know.”
The man studied him.
Adrian lowered his eyes.
He knew how it sounded.
The man didn't comment.
Instead, he looked at the blood again.
“Is that yours?”
Adrian followed his gaze.
“Some.”
The man's attention sharpened.
“Some?”
Adrian didn't answer.
He wished he hadn't said it.
Silence stretched between them.
Then the man's gaze moved higher.
Adrian felt it settle on his face.
His hair.
His ears.
One ear shifted before Adrian could stop it.
The man's eyes followed the movement.
“You're Aniel.”
Adrian went still.
For a moment, the forest seemed quieter.
He knew the word.
Of course he did.
Everyone did.
Aniels—the broad term for the animal-hybrid peoples—were among those who had become publicly known after the Emergence, though some communities had apparently existed long before that.
Different lineages.
Different appearances.
Different parts of the world.
Adrian knew that much.
He had seen Aniels on screens.
Probably passed some in cities.
They had simply never had much relevance to his life.
Until now.
The man was still looking at him.
“You are, aren't you?”
Adrian's throat felt dry.
He looked down at himself.
At the white hair hanging across the front of the coat.
He didn't need to see the rest.
“Yes.”
The answer felt strange.
Not because he knew it was true.
Because he didn't.
The man nodded slowly.
“Don't see many of you around here.”
Adrian looked up.
“Around here?”
“Not this kind.”
Adrian hesitated.
“What kind?”
The man looked surprised by the question.
His eyes went briefly to Adrian's ears again.
“I couldn't tell you exactly.”
Adrian waited.
“White ones are rare, though.”
Adrian felt something sink in his stomach.
White ones.
Not an accident of the procedure.
Not some meaningless cosmetic change.
The man was looking at him and seeing something recognizable.
Something that existed.
Adrian had spent every moment since waking trying to understand what had happened to him.
This stranger had looked at him for less than five minutes and already knew more about what he was than Adrian did.
“Where do they live?”
The man frowned slightly.
“Your people?”
Adrian nodded.
“Mostly farther east. Some communities north of here too, I think.”
That wasn't much.
It was still more than Adrian had known.
The man tilted his head.
“You really don't know?”
Adrian looked away.
“No.”
The answer came out barely above a whisper.
The man didn't ask why.
Adrian was grateful for that.
After a moment, Adrian asked the question that mattered more.
“Where am I?”
The man seemed surprised by that one.
“Rovenmark.”
“Western Rovenmark,” the man added.
Adrian knew the name.
Not well.
Rovenmark was one of those places that existed mostly as a shape on maps and a name that occasionally appeared in weather reports or the news.
Forests.
Smaller towns.
A lot of land between them.
He had never been here.
And it was nowhere near home.
Adrian tried to picture the map.
“How far is—”
He stopped.
The man waited.
Adrian didn't finish.
He wasn't ready to tell a stranger where he lived.
Not yet.
But he already knew enough.
They had taken him far.
The man glanced toward the trees behind him.
“My truck's back that way.”
Adrian's attention snapped to him.
A vehicle waiting somewhere out of sight.
A stranger asking him to follow.
For one sharp moment, the forest disappeared.
White metal.
The side door of a van.
A woman saying his name.
Magic locking every muscle in his body.
Adrian pulled himself farther against the roots before he realized he was doing it.
The man's expression changed.
“Hey. It's all right.”
He stayed where he was.
“I work out here. That's how I got here.”
Adrian knew that.
The orange paint on the trees made that obvious.
It didn't stop his heart from beating faster.
The man seemed to understand enough not to push.
“There's a road about fifteen minutes from here.”
That had to be the road Adrian had heard.
The one he'd tried to reach.
“There's a village nearby,” the man continued. “Clinic. Police post.”
Adrian's stomach tightened again.
Police.
Clinic.
White rooms.
Metal.
Needles.
Restraints.
“No.”
The word came out too quickly.
The man paused.
“No police?”
Adrian shook his head.
“Clinic?”
Another shake.
The man stared at him.
Adrian knew how this looked.
Bloodied.
Barefoot.
Barely dressed.
Unable to say where he was or how long he'd been there.
Claiming someone had attacked him.
Refusing the obvious places to go.
For several seconds, the man said nothing.
Then he sighed.
“I can't leave you here like this.”
Adrian looked at him.
“I've got work to do.”
There was no anger in it.
Just fact.
The man adjusted one strap of his pack.
“My truck's near the road. Village is another ten minutes from there.”
Adrian's fingers tightened around the coat.
The man noticed.
“I'm not going to make you come.”
He stepped farther away from the hollow.
“If you want to stay here, you stay.”
Adrian looked past him.
Wet trees.
Mud.
The direction he'd been trying to reach before his body gave out.
Then back at the man.
Work clothes.
Orange paint.
Mud-covered boots.
A knife he hadn't touched.
Nothing remarkable.
Nothing that proved he was safe.
But Adrian had no phone.
No food.
No shoes.
No idea where he was.
And somewhere beyond those trees was a road.
“How far?”
“To the truck?”
Adrian nodded.
“Fifteen minutes.”
The man looked at him for a moment.
“Maybe longer.”
Adrian lowered his eyes to his injured hands.
He couldn't stay here.
That much hadn't changed.
He pulled the coat tighter around himself.
“Okay.”
The man nodded.
“Take your time.”
He turned and walked several steps away before stopping.
Far enough to give Adrian space.
Close enough that he hadn't left.
Adrian watched him for a few seconds.
Then he put one hand against the earth and began trying to get up.