Jim smirked. “I guess the Judge thought you needed some help. What are we up to here? What’s the mission?”

“Mazikin found a way to breach the wall of the dark city and enter the land of the living,” I began.

“Wait. Who’s Mazikin?” Jim asked.

Malachi’s brows shot up. “You … do not know what a Mazikin is?”

Jim shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

“Me neither,” said Henry, taking in Malachi’s expression. “Maybe the two of you should come in.”

I touched Malachi’s back gently because the stiffness in his shoulders told me exactly what he thought of being invited into his own Station by a newcomer. The old wooden floors creaked beneath our boots as we followed Henry and Jim into the parlor, which contained a few mismatched easy chairs and a couch covered in embroidered flowers. Henry sat on the arm of the couch, looking a bit like a praying mantis. I sat in a carved wooden chair, and Malachi stood next to me. I almost reached up to take his hand, but then remembered I was the Captain—of all these guys—and I needed to act like it. “How were you two chosen for this mission?” I asked.

Jim, who’d settled himself in a leather recliner, looked down, suddenly fascinated by his own feet. Henry turned his dust-colored eyes to me. “We were called to the Sanctum, and the Judge offered it to us.”

“But she didn’t say why?”

“He didn’t.” I guess the Judge appeared to him as a male, but the Judge I’d seen was a woman. Apparently, she could appear however she wanted to. “He told us we would be joining a new field unit, and that we would get everything we needed when we arrived.”

“But you have never faced a Mazikin.” Malachi’s voice was flat with anger.

Jim rubbed his hand down his face. “Maybe you should give us the benefit of your wisdom.”

Malachi’s jaw clenched. I could almost read his mind—he was pissed that we had been given this tiny misfit army and was wondering if we might have been better off on our own. I was wondering the same thing.

“Mazikin are not human,” I explained. “They’re spirits, and they can possess people. Inhabit their bodies. Access their memories and skills.”

“The Mazikin infest the dark city where I was a Guard,” Malachi said. “I find it hard to believe they did not inhabit your cities as well.”

“I don’t,” said Henry. “The Wasteland is a place where no one would choose to go.” He looked thoughtful for a second. “You know, part of the Wasteland is taken up by a huge desert, and there’s a domed city at its far edge. Rumor is that it’s full of monsters.”

A hard chill rode straight down my spine. “Malachi, could that be their realm?”