Bruno had spent most of the morning looking for a woman who did not exist.
The woman in question was currently eating her second breakfast.
He could see her through the glass wall of his office, sitting at one of the common tables with a borrowed tablet propped against a cup.
White hair tied badly behind her head. One ear angled toward the screen, the other following every sound in the room. Her tail moved behind the chair in slow, distracted sweeps.
Six days ago, she had arrived barefoot in a bloodstained laboratory coat.
This morning, she had asked him whether the CSA network blocked game downloads.
Progress, apparently.
Bruno turned back to his screen.
The search results had not improved while he was looking away.
No biometric match.
No missing-person report matching her physical description.
No registered resident within Rovenmark.
No relevant portal entry.
No temporary residency record.
No displaced-person registration.
No medical record accessible through the standard interregional system.
Nothing.
That was unusual.
Not impossible.
People crossed borders without documents. Portal records failed. Children were born outside registered settlements. Refugees arrived through routes that had never seen a customs officer. Some species maintained their own records. Others maintained none at all.
The Crossworld Services Authority existed, in part, because the world had spent fifty years becoming considerably more complicated than its paperwork.
Usually, though, people existed somewhere.
She did not.
Bruno widened the search parameters.
Age was useless.
She looked young.
That meant less than people liked to think.
Some Aniel lines aged similarly to humans. Some didn't. A handful were irritating enough to make visual estimation nearly meaningless.
He set the range wide.
Nothing.
He removed Rovenmark entirely.
The system thought about it.
Still nothing.
Bruno rubbed one hand over his muzzle.
"Of course."
He closed the search.
Another file waited beneath it.
ADRIAN VOSS.
Human.
Male.
Thirty-eight.
Calden.
Missing.
Bruno opened it.
There had been no meaningful update.
Voss had left work.
He had not reached home.
His vehicle had remained near his workplace.
No banking activity.
No registered travel.
No portal transit.
No confirmed sightings.
Family and employer contacted.
Search ongoing.
According to the woman in Bruno's care, Adrian Voss had been held in the same place she had.
Alive.
At least when she'd seen him.
Bruno looked at the photograph.
Ordinary face.
Short dark hair.
Tired eyes.
Nothing about the man suggested any connection to the unidentified Aniel woman in Bellwick.
Bruno closed the file.
He had questions.
Many of them.
He was also reasonably certain she was lying to him.
Not about everything.
Probably not even about most things.
But enough.
She remembered more than she claimed.
Bruno had suspected that before yesterday's assessment.
Afterward, it had become difficult to pretend otherwise.
*I work in an office.*
Then:
*I think I did.*
Later, standing inside an arcane scanner:
*I had magic issues before.*
People with no memory did not generally have previous opinions about their magical performance.
She knew how assessments worked.
She knew what Reinforcement was.
She understood modern infrastructure, payment systems, police procedure, personal devices, network access, and enough ordinary social behavior that nobody would mistake her for someone newly arrived from an isolated world.
She also didn't know how to walk properly with her own tail if she thought about it too hard.
Bruno had stopped trying to make those facts fit together.
For now.
He was reasonably certain she was lying to him.
He was considerably less certain that the lie was any of his business.
She had been restrained.
Injected.
Held somewhere against her will.
Whatever had happened there had left marks on her wrists and ankles, punctures in her skin, gaps in her memory, and enough fear of medical equipment that she'd needed explicit confirmation that an assessment scanner would not close around her.
If she wanted to keep parts of herself private, Bruno could live with that.
Unless those parts became dangerous.
Yesterday's assessment had made that possibility more complicated.
He opened the report.
Sera's physical assessment appeared first.
The summary was irritatingly concise.
Upper-body strength: moderate.
Lower-body power: above expected baseline.
Acceleration: exceptional.
Reaction response: exceptional.
Balance: high potential; conscious interference observed.
Auditory perception: high.
Directional auditory discrimination: exceptional.
Coordination: significant discrepancy between instinctive and conscious movement.
Endurance: incomplete assessment due to existing injury.
Durability: insufficient data.
Bruno paused at that one.
Technically true.
They had some data.
It had arrived in the form of a drunk man punching her in the face.
Sera had declined to include that as a standardized measurement.
Probably wisely.
He scrolled.
Daven's report was longer.
Arcane capacity: measurable; above expected untrained baseline.
Output: unresolved variance.
Control: minimal conscious response.
Primary identifiable affinity: Reinforcement, probable physical expression.
Secondary affinity: lineage-associated; unresolved.
Observed components: sensory / concealment or veiling / fire-adjacent.
Classification confidence: insufficient.
Then the note that had created Bruno's current problem.
Recommend specialist review by assessor familiar with White-Line Aniel lineage structures.
Bruno stared at it.
"Easy for you to write."
Daven was not there to defend himself.
That was probably why Bruno said it.
He opened the CSA specialist directory.
Again.
He had already spent part of yesterday on this.
The first result was an academic researcher in northern Rovenmark whose listed work focused on historical Aniel migration patterns.
Not useful.
The second specialized in hereditary arcane disorders.
Potentially useful.
Currently off-world.
The third had worked with White-Line profiles.
Retired.
Seven years ago.
Bruno had sent a message anyway.
No response.
The fourth result was an institutional contact rather than an individual.
He had skipped it twice.
Bruno looked at it now.
VAELARI REPRESENTATION
Cultural, Lineage & Crossworld Affairs
Accredited consultation partner.
Diplomatic status.
External jurisdiction.
Wonderful.
Daven had asked for a specialist.
Unfortunately, the best specialist appeared to come with diplomatic credentials.
Bruno opened the contact information.
He knew enough about the Vaelari to know what they were.
That was different from knowing much about them.
They had communities on Earth. Representatives in several major cities. Trade arrangements. Cultural offices. Their own world, their own government, and their own internal structures that Bruno had never needed to care about professionally.
White-Line Vaelari were rarer.
Much rarer.
Bruno knew that much.
The pale phenotype was strongly associated with old Houses and certain hereditary lines. He had seen one in person exactly once, years ago, during a crossworld residency conference.
There had been security.
Titles.
A considerable amount of standing up when people entered rooms.
That was approximately the point at which Bruno's useful knowledge ended.
He could have continued searching.
He probably would have found someone eventually.
The woman outside could also spend another week not knowing what her own body was capable of.
Bruno looked at Daven's report again.
Then at the contact entry.
"Fine."
He initiated the call.
It connected quickly.
A woman appeared on screen.
Human-form Aniel.
Dark reddish hair.
Triangular ears rising through it.
No visible tail at this angle.
Professional clothing.
Professional expression.
"Vaelari Representation, Crossworld Affairs."
"Crossworld Services Authority. Western Rovenmark, Bellwick office."
Her expression changed slightly at the location.
Not surprise.
Recognition, perhaps.
"How may I assist you?"
"I need a lineage consultation."
"Medical or arcane?"
"Arcane."
"Registered individual?"
"No."
Her fingers moved somewhere below the camera.
"Citizenship?"
"Unknown."
"House affiliation?"
"Unknown."
"Region of origin?"
"Unknown."
The woman stopped typing.
Bruno waited.
"Do you have anything you know?"
"Female Aniel. Unknown identity. Probable White-Line phenotype. No registry match through CSA systems. Recovered in Western Rovenmark under circumstances consistent with unlawful confinement. General arcane assessment returned an unresolved lineage-associated affinity."
The woman resumed typing.
"Age?"
"Unknown."
"Approximate?"
"Young adult."
"Name?"
Bruno paused.
"Unknown."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"Does she speak?"
"Yes."
"Memory impairment?"
"Possibly."
That was the easiest answer.
"Do you have assessment data?"
"Yes."
"Send the report and raw scan."
Bruno attached both.
His finger hovered over the final file.
The intake photograph.
It had been taken the day after she'd arrived.
Clean clothes.
White hair loose because nobody had yet convinced it to cooperate.
Amber eyes.
Ears angled slightly backward.
Expression wary enough that Bruno remembered telling the intake clerk to stop after one picture.
He attached it.
"Sending now."
The woman looked toward another screen.
The files transferred.
She opened the assessment first.
Bruno could tell by the movement of her eyes.
She spent perhaps twenty seconds on it.
Then her gaze shifted.
The photograph.
She stopped.
Completely.
Bruno watched.
Her ears, which had been relaxed, turned forward.
For the first time, the professional neutrality disappeared from her face.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
"One moment."
"Is there a problem?"
"Please hold."
The call went silent.
Not disconnected.
Held.
Bruno leaned back.
That was interesting.
A minute passed.
Then two.
At four minutes, the screen changed.
The woman did not return.
The man who replaced her was White-Line.
There was no mistaking it.
His hair was long, perfectly white, and drawn back from a face that looked perhaps forty by human standards and could, for all Bruno knew, have been twice that. Tall white ears rose cleanly through his hair. What little Bruno could see of his clothing was dark, formal, and cut with a precision that made the CSA uniform Bruno was wearing feel suddenly very provincial.
His eyes were pale gold.
Not amber.
Gold.
Bruno recognized him.
That took another second.
Then the name arrived.
Lord Caelen Varess.
Chief Vaelari Representative to Earth.
Bruno had never spoken to him.
He had seen him on screens often enough.
Trade agreements.
Portal negotiations.
The occasional diplomatic ceremony.
There were several people between a Bellwick CSA officer and Caelen Varess on any reasonable organizational chart.
Apparently someone had removed them.
"Officer Bruno."
Not a question.
"Representative Varess."
No greeting followed.
"I understand you have an unidentified Vaelari in your custody."
Bruno's expression hardened.
"Care."
A pause.
"What?"
"She's in our care. Not our custody."
Varess regarded him for a moment.
"Where did you find her?"
Not *what did the scan show?*
Not *what symptoms has she displayed?*
Where.
"She was brought to our Bellwick office."
"By whom?"
"A forestry worker."
"Where did he encounter her?"
"On a forest road west of Bellwick."
"Precisely where?"
"You have the location in the case file."
"I asked you."
Bruno stared at him.
The tone wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It was the tone of a man accustomed to asking questions once.
Bruno had spent twenty-three years in government service.
He had developed an immunity.
"Why?"
Varess's ears shifted almost imperceptibly.
"We are attempting to establish her provenance."
"You can establish it from the case file."
"Officer."
"Representative."
Silence.
Interesting.
Then Varess leaned back slightly.
"The location may be relevant to determining how a member of her lineage came to be in Western Rovenmark without our knowledge."
That was better.
Bruno gave him the approximate location.
"Was she alone?"
"As far as we know."
"Was anyone else recovered?"
"No."
"Any dead?"
"Not at the recovery site."
That answer produced the slightest pause.
Bruno filed it away.
"Does she know her House?"
"She doesn't know her name."
For the first time, Varess's expression actually changed.
Barely.
His eyes moved away from Bruno.
Then back.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing she's willing or able to give us."
"Does she speak Vaelari?"
"I haven't asked."
"You haven't asked."
It wasn't a question.
"Until yesterday, I had no reason to."
Varess appeared to consider commenting on that.
He didn't.
"Has she demonstrated Foxfire?"
"No."
"Veiling?"
"No."
"Illusory projection?"
"No."
"Any lineage technique?"
"None she can identify."
"Has she received formal instruction?"
"Not that she's told us."
Varess looked toward something off-screen.
"Her phenotype is natural?"
"As far as our medical examination can establish."
"No cosmetic alteration?"
"None detected."
"The hair?"
"Natural."
"Eyes?"
"Natural."
"Ears and tail?"
"Natural."
Varess went quiet.
Bruno waited.
"You've seen something."
Varess's gaze returned to him.
"I've seen enough to know this should not be handled by a regional generalist."
"Daven already established that."
"I am not referring to your assessor."
There it was.
Small.
But unmistakable.
Bruno leaned back.
"Then what are you referring to?"
Varess ignored the question.
"We will send representatives."
Bruno noticed the plural.
"I asked for a specialist."
"You will have one."
"Who?"
"That will be provided to you."
"Before they arrive."
Varess's expression cooled.
"Naturally."
"Names, credentials, and purpose of visit."
"You are speaking to the Chief Representative of the Vaelari delegation to Earth."
"Then I assume arranging identification won't be difficult."
Silence again.
Bruno was beginning to enjoy those.
Only slightly.
Varess looked down at something.
"Until our people arrive, she will remain at your facility."
Bruno's amusement disappeared.
"No."
Varess looked up.
"No?"
"She's not being detained."
"I did not suggest detention."
"You just told me where she's going to remain."
"This is a matter concerning a Vaelari of potentially significant lineage."
"This is Rovenmark."
Varess's eyes narrowed.
Bruno continued.
"She is under CSA protection. She is not charged with anything, she's not subject to a movement order, and I have no legal authority to prevent her from leaving."
"I am asking you to exercise judgment."
"I am."
The silence lasted longer this time.
Then Varess spoke more carefully.
"We strongly request that she remain available until our representatives arrive."
"You can request."
"Will you encourage her to remain?"
"If I think meeting them is in her interest."
Varess stared at him.
"And if you do not?"
"I won't."
Something moved behind the man's eyes.
Irritation, certainly.
Perhaps disbelief.
Bruno had encountered both before.
"Does she know you've contacted us?"
"Not yet."
"Inform her."
"I was planning to."
"We would prefer that she not travel."
"You've made that clear."
"Have I?"
"Very."
Varess's mouth tightened.
Good.
"How soon?" Bruno asked.
"Tomorrow."
That stopped him.
Bruno glanced at the representation's listed location on his other screen.
Tomorrow was possible.
Priority portal transit made most distances negotiable.
It was still considerably faster than Bruno had expected anyone to arrange for a routine lineage consultation.
"What time?"
"You'll receive an arrival window."
"And the purpose?"
"Lineage assessment and welfare review."
"Only?"
Varess held his gaze.
"For now."
Bruno disliked those two words immediately.
"Anything else?"
"No."
"Then send the documentation."
Bruno moved to end the call.
"Officer."
He stopped.
Varess was watching him.
"When you speak to her, do not speculate about her lineage."
Bruno frowned.
"Why?"
"Because you do not know enough to do so."
There was that tone again.
Bruno's ears flattened slightly.
"I hadn't intended to."
"Good."
The call ended.
Bruno stared at the empty screen.
"Pleasure speaking with you too."
He opened the intake photograph again.
White hair.
Amber eyes.
White ears.
A young woman who had arrived barefoot, hungry, injured, and unable—or unwilling—to give him a name.
Daven had wanted someone who understood her lineage.
A receptionist had looked at her photograph and, within minutes, transferred the call to the highest-ranking Vaelari diplomat on Earth.
That was not the same thing.
Bruno opened the call notes and began typing.
Every question.
Every answer.
Every wording that had bothered him.
*In your custody.*
*Potentially significant lineage.*
*She will remain at your facility.*
*Do not speculate.*
*For now.*
He documented all of it.
Whatever happened next, he wanted a record.
Then he returned to her case.
No identity.
No records.
No registered family.
No known House.
Nothing tying her to the people who had just shown considerably more interest in her than Bruno had requested.
Everyone who met her seemed to arrive at the same question eventually.
What are you?
The forestry worker.
Nessa.
Daven.
Sera.
The police.
Now the Vaelari.
Bruno looked at the photograph.
He was beginning to think the more important question might be who was going to decide.
A notification appeared.
He opened it.
VAELARI REPRESENTATION — VISIT CONFIRMATION
That had been fast.
Bruno scanned the document.
Arrival window.
Transit authorization.
Purpose: lineage consultation and welfare review.
Then the personnel section.
He stopped.
Three names.
Three sets of credentials.
Bruno read the heading again.
He had asked for a specialist.