"Fascinating."Adom leaned back in his chair, studying the unconscious changeling tied to the opposite seat. They'd moved to one of Valiant's safe houses—a nondescript building in the artisan quarter that looked like it stored pottery but actually stored people who needed to disappear for a while."What's fascinating?" Valiant asked. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking like he was trying to figure out if he should be impressed or worried about Adom's methods."He's unconscious," Adom said, "and yet he's retained the form he changed to."Valiant squinted at the changeling. Average height, brown hair, the kind of face that belonged on a dozen different wanted posters but never quite matched any of them perfectly."Or maybe this is his real form?"Adom shook his head. "I've read descriptions of changelings. Seen sketches from Imperial archives. Their natural form isn't human. Not even humanoid.""Then what is it?""Closer to slimes, actually."Valiant blinked. "Slimes? Like, the things that eat garbage in sewers?""Similar concept. Different biology." Adom gestured at the changeling. "They're essentially shapeshifters with no fixed form. Pure adaptability. This human appearance? It's a choice he's maintaining even while unconscious. That suggests either incredible control, or—"The changeling's eyelids twitched."—or he's starting to wake up," Adom finished quietly."Oh!" Valiant straightened up immediately. "Okay, okay. You be the good guard, and I'll be the bad one. Classic approach. I come in aggressive, you offer him water and sympathy, he spills everything.""We're not doing that.""Come on, it's a proven technique.""It's also going to turn into you getting distracted and asking him about changeling biology for twenty minutes.""I would not—okay, I might do that. But the principle—""Valiant." Adom looked at him steadily. (...)