The copper haze above the registry did not fade gently.
It popped like an overfilled bubble and threw a warm draft across the room.
Marrick took one look at the center of the office and released a high-pitched squeak.
He dove headfirst beneath the writing desk with a speed no tax emergency had ever inspired.
A woman stood on the bare floorboards with dark bronze skin and tangled copper hair.
Two small horns swept back from her temples, half hidden in the glowing strands.
Steam rose from her shoulders while fine dark scales covered her forearms.
The scales glimmered along her collarbone like scattered coins catching a furnace.
Her first breath carried the smell of a vanished forge across the registry.
Hajin understood immediately that her memories were not merely damaged, but buried.
'Whatever she was, something in her refused to look at it directly.'
He tossed traveler's garments from his inventory toward her with a tired sigh.
