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“A stasis pod,” he said. That certainly explained a lot—like the weakness that was slowly fading from my limbs, the lingering nausea, and the fact that I’d been transported millions of light-years away from home.

Executed for Athol crimes, my ass. The UAR had faked my death, then tried to sell me. How typical. I wasn’t even surprised.

“I see,” I said. “Now what?” He rolled a shoulder but did not answer me, his eyes skirting away from my face this time, looking anywhere but in my direction.

Hiding something, then. Something big. I would have pressed the issue—would have tried to figure it all out—but a noise interrupted my train of thought.

A curtain on one side of the room rustled, colorful fabric in many hues hanging there in swatches from the ceiling.

It had been attached by a carved ivory rod, tied in place with purple leather cord.

A low-tech solution to give the illusion of privacy in this room, incongruent with the rest of the clearly functional machines inside it.

The fabric shifted, lifting roughly at the bottom.

Then a snout poked through, black and white, with beady brown eyes.

An animal trundled into the medical room, no bigger than a medium-sized dog, bristling with quills all along its rump.

It looked like a porcupine and a European badger had a baby, and this was the result. It was… cute, in a sort of punk way.

“Ah, Zap, how nice of you to join us,” Artek drawled at the beast. It had a shiny collar around its neck, a blue gem glowing at the center.

His pet then. The animal snorted and bared teeth that were definitely those of a rodent, squarish and long, with a red hue.

High in iron, hard to wear, so the animal liked to chew on tough things, like a beaver.

It moved into the room, its gait uneven and slow.

My eyes were transfixed by it, fascinated.

I’d always loved animals but had never been able to be close to any.

Once upon a time, I’d wanted to study zoology rather than cartography, but there was no money to be made in the study of animals—not on Earth.

I had a scholarship, and I had to make sure I had a future with a job, so I’d given up on animals.

That didn’t mean I hadn’t read all about them in my spare time.

This Zap, as the strange alien male had called it, had a limp—a crooked hind leg—and something about the gray-white fur on its blunt snout made me think it was a senior animal.

It was certainly entirely unconcerned with my presence, or even that of its caretaker.

It just trundled past, quills ruffled to give it a sort of frazzled, rumpled appearance.

It hopped daintily over a coil of the long, pale tail of the Shaman, then stuck its head in a bowl near one wall and began lapping up water.

I finally glanced away from Zap to meet the Shaman’s eyes, discovering, to my surprise, that he looked a little sheepish, embarrassed.

He raised a hand and rubbed the back of his head, his long, silky silver-and-gold hair lifting at the back from his mistreatment.

“Sorry, Zap is… well, she does her own thing most of the time. She’s been cranky because her latest litter parted with her recently. ”

I looked back at the animal and tried to figure out whether she looked cranky or not, but I couldn’t tell. She just looked calm and collected, doing her own thing. Honestly, I wished I could be as calm as she was, but my body was strung tight with worry and confusion.

A touch against my fingers made me jerk my gaze down and discover that the Shaman had brushed his fingers along the back of my hand.

A gentle, subtle touch to draw my attention, it still felt like a caress, and my pulse spiked for a very different reason.

Our eyes clashed, his gaze bright golden, shimmering like fire.

I felt like I was tumbling into that gaze, trapped there, deep in those golden depths.

“Nala, you’ve been out for quite some time.

It took me a while to figure out how to open your stasis pod safely.

Are you feeling all right?” He certainly had the perfect bedside manner down, I felt his concern, and it seemed genuine.

Very different from the last doctor I’d seen, who’d been brusque and businesslike.

Not a care in the world that my reality had just been upended with that one confirmation.

Just ready to bilk me out of money to ensure the health of my unborn baby girl.

“I’m okay,” I said. Proving the point, I pressed my hands against the firm but comfortable padding of the oddly shaped bed.

Sitting up by myself was tough, but it got easier when I scooted to my knees.

Immediately, Artek withdrew his tail from behind my back.

It was a little freaky to see it twist through the air and slide over the edge.

My eyes wanted to tell me that those scales would feel slimy and cold, but my brain knew better. They were warm, dry, firm.

“I’d like to wash up. Is that possible?” I added, sweeping my eyes around the room as if a bathroom would suddenly reveal itself to me. It didn’t, but I did a double take, my breath rising sharply in my chest. There was someone else here, and I’d never noticed: another patient.

They were lying in the round bed furthest from me, a large shape covered by a blanket up to the middle of his chest. A round silver thing rested on his temple, and bandages covered his face, chest, and shoulders.

He was asleep, or maybe in a coma. A Naga just like the Shaman, but this one had scales in a shade somewhere between purple and blue.

They didn’t shimmer either, and I wondered if that was an indication of how badly he was hurt.

He looked much harder than the Shaman did, though they were both big and muscular.

This guy had sharper features, and a horn jutted from his chin.

His hair was sleek and long, a thick, luscious black with a shimmer of blue as dark as midnight.

I was certain that if he opened his eyes, I’d see nothing but hunter instincts reflected back at me.

“Are you strong enough to walk, Nala?” Artek asked me.

He was so polite, so gentle, and I was starting to wonder if he feared upsetting me.

I met his gaze, flicked my eyes back to his other patient, and—though I didn’t say the question out loud—he nodded.

“Yes, my other patient will be out a while longer still. Khawla was badly hurt and needs to heal in his sleep. This way.”

I took his offered hand and let him guide me to a hidden sliding door. The bathroom beyond it looked blessedly familiar, and I was relieved to have the door slide shut behind me. For a moment, I was alone, and I needed that moment to gather my wits. What had happened to me? I had so many questions.