However, there was one detail that remained sharp—one anatomical anomaly that had survived whatever mental conditioning or trauma had eroded the rest of her memories.
"The horns," Tara whispered, her eyes wide with a flicker of primal terror. "He had three horns."
She described them with haunting precision. Two curved outward from the sides of his head, jagged and dark like the obsidian glass of a volcanic ridge.
The third sat in the center of his forehead, shorter and straighter, pointing toward the ceiling like a spearhead.
It was a feature so alien, so physically impossible for any known race on the continent, that it had seared itself into her mind, standing out from the rest of her blurry explanation like a lighthouse in a storm.
Noah felt a cold ripple of realization wash over him.
'Three horns…' he thought, his mind racing through every scholarly tome and history book he had read over the past few weeks. 'That means he can't be human.'
