Broken bones hurt like no other injury. Jagged edges digging into torn flesh. Dislocated joints burning as though brimming with acid.

The inside of the car smelled like burning oil. The smoke stung her eyes, clogged up her throat.

Mia lay against shattered glass, the concrete of the street warm against her skin. Mother hung from her seatbelt, her body twisted at too many angles for her to be alive. The back of Father’s head rested limply against the door, blood dripping from the hidden wounds on his face and neck, splattering on the driver’s side window like the leaky faucet in the kitchen.

Fiery pain jolted up her right leg.

The angle of her leg was wrong. Impossible. Bent completely out of shape. With bones sticking out of her skin. So much blood.

Mia blinked.

The smoke-filled interior of the family car faded from her vision, replaced by a dark concrete chamber underground. She shut her eyes again and wiped the back of her hand across her damp face. She didn’t make a habit of indulging the memories of that horrible day, but when the old knee injury flared up, she couldn’t help but remember.

Grunting, she reached for the throbbing gash in her side and froze.

Her fingertips brushed against coarse bandages wrapped around her stomach.

Did I do that?

She’d lost a lot of blood. The head wounded hadn’t stopped bleeding, and after the ceiling had come down behind her, she remembered wandering aimlessly through the tunnels. She was still wearing her blouse. She was still wearing her shorts.

Where had the bandages come from?

“Finally awake, are you?”

Mia caught her breath and scrambled to sit up, the room spinning in front of her eyes. Pain lanced down her leg and up her side, and she whimpered, clutching the wall as nausea roiled in her stomach.

“Easy.” A gentle pressure on her knee. Cold fingers brushed her face. “No harm will come to you.”

The man’s deep voice rumbled in his chest, every word carefully pronounced with the graceful cadence of a British accent.

She reached out to push him away, and her hand clutched at the coarse fabric of a long sleeve.

“Open your eyes, Miss Davalos.”

Stomach still somersaulting, Mia forced her eyes to open, a bright light overhead blinding her for a moment. As she squinted through the brightness, the man kneeling in front of her came into focus.

High cheekbones. Proud brow. Unblinking eyes a shade somewhere between ice and sky.

The man arched thick eyebrows. “Be still.” He set a hand on her knee, long, slender fingers cold against her skin.

She jerked backward, and he lifted his hands, palms facing her. “Be still. You are safe for now.”

Her breath came in shallow gasps. Mia forced herself to draw a long, slow breath. It made her head ache.

“Who—where—?”

“About fifty yards from where I found you.” The man nodded toward the far wall, the expression in his strange gray eyes concerned. “You have lost a fair quantity of blood. It is fortunate I discovered you.”

“We’re still—” She gulped.

“Underground. Yes.”

As the spinning room slowed down, Mia focused her gaze on his clothing. She scowled.

The man wore a sand-colored haori, a thigh-length jacket of coarse cotton, open at the front and embroidered across the shoulders with intricate dark blue vines. Beneath, a slate-colored kosode and set of hakama blended in with the shadows.

But the man wasn’t Japanese. Not with his deep-set eyes and sharp, thin nose.

“Who are you?” Mia whispered.

He clicked his tongue as he stood. “Not important.”

Tall. Taller than she expected. Not as tall as Sam, but at least as tall as Ryan.

She leaned forward on the cot—she was on a cot?—and her arm jerked with a metallic jangle. Mia frowned at her left wrist where a heavy metal cuff chained her to the cement wall.

“Yes, sorry about that.” The man turned back to her with an apologetic smile. “Couldn’t have you wandering off.”

Mia swallowed again and took another steadying breath. “Not important?” She raised her eyebrows. “Your name is becoming important.”

His smile didn’t fade.

But it wasn’t malicious either. It was—friendly. And sad.

Who is this guy?

“Here I am called Yamainu.” He bowed his head to her, the harsh lights shining in his short waves of dark brown hair. “I am pleased to meet you, and I am sorry.”

Mia narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“What follows will not be pleasant.” He spun on the ball of his foot and faded into the darkness behind the blinding stand light.

Mia pressed her hand against her face and tried to calm her breathing. She must have passed out in the tunnels after she’d run from Jinsoku. Everything felt fuzzy. She sagged against the wall and shut her eyes, exhaling.

“Please do be careful not to sleep, Miss Davalos.” Yamainu spoke from the darkness around her. “I’m quite certain you have concussed yourself.”

“What do you want from me?”

He didn’t answer, but the swishing of his hakama rustled in the shadows.

“Where is here?” Mia folded her hands in her lap and picked at the hinge on the metal cuff.

The rustling stopped.

“You said here you’re called Yamainu,” Mia said. “But you also said we’re still in the Dupont Circle Underground.”

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should have clarified that among my colleagues, that is what I am called.”

Mia sat forward. “And who are your colleagues?”

“That I am confident you can discern for yourself.” Yamainu threw a switch on the wall, and a flood of light exploded from the ceiling.

Mia gasped and covered her eyes. Blinking the tears away, she lowered her arm, and her mouth went dry.

The chamber was much larger than she’d realized. The darkness had made it feel cramped and close, but in the harsh lights from above, the chamber expanded into a huge area. And it was full of soldiers.

Hundreds of soldiers. Maybe even thousands of them. Standing at attention from one wall to the other, in line after line after line. The harsh lights glinted on their gray armors, but the darkness within their helmets seemed empty. Normally red glowing eyes would flare from the depths of the helmet.

Were they turned off?

Mia cast her gaze back to Yamainu, bustling back and forth between two tables in the corner, each one loaded down with heavy slabs of computer equipment. Screens and towers and keyboards all connected with wires in various colors and thicknesses.

“You work with Thallia.”

Yamainu paused for a moment and met her gaze across the room.

“I work for Thallia.” His left nostril twitched, and he refocused on the machines before him.

Mia rubbed her aching knee and stood slowly. The chain on the cuff was long enough to allow her two steps away from the makeshift cot Yamainu had laid her on. She stared at Yamainu as he worked.

“How did you recognize me?”

“I sent an image of you to Warlord Jinsoku, and he confirmed your identity.”

“And my value?”

Yamainu pinned her with a fierce glare. “Yes.”

“The Reishosan won’t ever join Thallia,” Mia said, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin. “It doesn’t matter what any of you do to me. They promised to protect this world no matter what.”

Yamainu rested his hands on the table, the strange, sad expression from before creeping into his eyes.

“A touching concept, Miss Davalos,” he said quietly, “but flawed.” He picked up a tool and adjusted it. “No one knows the depths of evil that lurk in the hearts of men, but I assure you, Thallia knows the key to accessing it.”

Slowly, Mia lowered herself to the edge of the cot and watched Yamainu work on the equipment laid out before him. If Ronnie had been there, he might have been able to explain what the man was doing, or at least what the equipment was for.

Strange.

Across the room, Yamainu muttered under his breath, readjusted his tool, and leaned over the table.

“You’re a tech guy.”

Yamainu paused again, threw a silent glare at her, and returned to his work.

Mia laughed. “I guess even Thallia needs somebody to fix his email when it breaks.”

Yamainu snorted but didn’t look up.

Yamainu. Yamainu. Mia moved to fold her arms and frowned when the chain wouldn’t allow it. I think yama is hill, isn’t it? And inu is dog. But the meaning isn’t always literal. Sam would know what it means. Mental note: Maybe a few Japanese classes wouldn’t hurt.

The lights glittered on the bronze cuffs around both his wrists. Odd, since they didn’t seem to match the rest of his ensemble.

Mia chewed her lip and watched him for a moment longer.

Why does he have a Japanese-sounding name when he obviously isn’t Japanese? And Korin has always said his people are descended from ancient Japanese people who ended up in the Kayosen Dimension. She stared at the soft curls of dark hair shining on the back of Yamainu’s head. Does that mean he isn’t Kayosen either?

“Where are you from?”

He paused again, still not looking, and didn’t answer, turning his attention to his work and his back to her.

“I’m only asking because you don’t look Kayosen.” Mia inched forward on the cot. “Assuming that the people of Kayos all look like Korin, but you look nothing like him.”

He kept his back to her.

“So where are you from? You sound British.”

Yamainu slammed a case shut on the table and moved to the next piece of equipment.

“You probably don’t know what a British person sounds like, do you?” Mia leaned back against the wall, eyes narrowed. Let’s see how long he’ll let me chatter. Jinsoku would have knifed me by now. “One of the Reishosan, Stan, is British.”

He braced his hands on the table and took a long deep breath that caused his shoulders to raise.

“I don’t speak Japanese.” Mia kept talking, her eyes never leaving his back. “I know a few words, but Sam is the expert in the house. But I know enough to recognize the two words that make up your name. Hill and Dog. At least, that’s what they mean in Terran Japanese. I know it doesn’t always translate.”

Finally, Yamainu turned around and glared at her. “You talk far too much,” he grumbled.

Mia arched an eyebrow. “You must not know many women.”

Yamainu snorted and ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray, the lights sparkling on the bronze cuffs around his wrists.

“So,” Mia started, “where are you from?”

He glared at the floor.

“What does yamainu even mean?”

The man whirled around and stormed toward her. So fast, Mia gasped and scurried back on the cot. Yamainu was at her knees in an instant, leaning into her face with both of his hands pressed against the wall on either side of her.

He smelled like green tea and sandalwood.

Boldly, Mia lifted her chin and held his gaze without flinching. “I am not afraid of you.”

Nostrils flaring, Yamainu lowered himself closer. “I promised you that no harm would come to you, and I meant it.” His voice was a low, quiet thing, like the sound Shirotaro made deep in his throat before he pounced.

“Even if you could promise that, you work for Thallia.” Mia couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice. “Why would I trust you?”

The man’s gray eyes softened slightly. “I don’t expect you to, but I hope you will.” He bowed his head toward her. “I certainly intend no harm to you.” He straightened, pulling away from her. “Believe me, if I had my way, I’d have no part in this at all.”

His fingers inched up to his collarbone where a glass pendant hung, and he enfolded it in his palm. It had tumbled out of his kosode when he’d bent over, and it sparkled in the light.

Mia resettled herself on the uncomfortable mattress. “If that’s true, why are you here? Why are you helping him?”

Yamainu tucked the pendant back into his kosode. “Because I don’t often get what I want.” He turned back to what he’d been doing. “Now be silent. I am happy to tune out your incessant questions, but Warlord Jinsoku will not be as lenient.”

Mia pressed her lips together.

Yamainu stopped at a archway on the other side of the room and spoke in a low tone. With a loud, rhythmic clanking, a gray-armored soldier marched mechanically out of the darkness. The soldier approached her cot, turned a square corner, and stood at attention at the head of the mattress.

Mia gawked at the vibrant green sash laying across the soldier’s chestplate.

Green? The boys said something about blue sashes, but what do the green ones mean?

“Now.” Yamainu cleared his throat. “I have work to do, Miss Davalos.” He bowed his head slightly. “Please be quiet so that I may complete my mission.” He turned away from her and weaved into the long lines of deactivated soldiers.

Mia turned so that she could lean on the wall and fold her arms across her chest. Whatever Yamainu was doing wasn’t good, and however he was involved with Thallia and Jinsoku could only be dangerous.

“Come on, boys,” Mia whispered, shutting her eyes as she let the fear and worry wash over her. “Get your act together. I think we’re running out of time.”