"Kicked me right out," he says. "No more collar or blessing the water in their fancy little birdbaths for me."

For awhile he'd been much angrier about it. Even since coming to Darrow, those first few weeks after going into the Church and finding they had his papers in their hands had been difficult, he'd struggled with the idea that everything he'd ever been had just been snatched away, not only in the world he'd come from, but here, too. But he's had some time to think since then, time to talk to a few people and his anger has eased off significantly.

"I'm Marcus," he says, twisting to offer the young man his hand, though it's a bit dirty with the charcoal and he laughs. "Sorry, maybe best not to shake."