He flinched, clearly terrified, and was brought up short by his chains. Shit, Miriam thought, a sense of horror stealing over her. She peered at him in the dim light. “They’ve been beating you,” she said quietly. The things on the gatehouse walls—no, she didn’t want to be involved in this. It was all a horrible mistake. Multiple contusions, some bleeding and inflamation around the left eye. He stared past her left shoulder, shivering fearfully, but didn’t say anything. Miriam resisted the urge to turn around and yell at the guards: She had a hopeless feeling that all it would do was earn the kid another beating when she was safely out of the way.

Her medical training wouldn’t let her look away. Up until this moment she’d have sworn she was angry with him: But she hadn’t expected them to treat him like this. Breaking into her house on the orders of someone placed in authority over him—sure she was angry. But the real guilty parties were a long way away, and if she didn’t do something fast, this half-starved kid was going to join the grisly carcasses displayed on the gatehouse wall, for the crime of following orders. And where was the justice in that?

“I’m not going to hit you,” she said.

He didn’t reply: His posture said he didn’t believe her.

“Fuck!” She pulled one of the chairs out from the table, turned it around, and sat down on it, her arms folded across the back. “I just want some answers. That’s all. Lin of, what did you call yourself?”

“Lin. Lin Lee. My family is called Lee.” He kept glancing past her, as if trying to conceal his fear: I’m not going to hit you, but my guards—

“That’s good. How old are you?”

“Fifteen.” Fifteen! Holy shit, they’re running the children’s crusade! A thought struck her. “Have they been feeding you? Giving you water? Somewhere to sleep?”

He managed a brief, painful croak: Maybe it was meant to be laughter.

Miriam looked around. “Well? Have you been feeding him?”

The sergeant shook himself. “Ma’am?”

“What food, drink, and medical attention has this child had?”

He shook his head. “I really couldn’t say, ma’am.”

“I see.” Miriam’s hands tensed on the back of the chair. She turned back to Lin. “I didn’t order this,” she said. “Will you tell me who sent you to my house?”

She saw him swallow. “If I do that you’ll kill me,” he said.

“No, that’s not what I’ve got in mind.”

“Yes you will.” He looked at her with bitter certainty in his eyes. “They’ll do it.”

“Like you were going to kill me?” she asked quietly.

He didn’t say anything.

“You were supposed to find out if I was from the Clan,” she said.