I shimmy my arms through the sleeves of a plain white tzotzomatli and smooth its front. It’ll need some tailoring to bring out my hips—the only way to keep me from looking like a tree trunk draped in a sack. But that’ll have to wait.

Surprised by my own emotion, I force back tears while holding my dirty tzotzomatli out for examination. It’s not like I could wear it at the academy. And maybe that’s the thing. Whatever happens, the next four days will change my and Olin’s lives forever.

I fold the garment carefully. I’ll leave it with the shopkeeper, a quality seamstress and faithful client. She can find another home for it—an uninfected girl, a mere carrier of the twitch virus, who can spend her long years raising children and being a wife.

Outside my changing room, Olin barks a warning followed by the clatter of an overturned clothing rack.

An instant later, a bullish chadzitzin rips through the curtain, pushing me into the corner. I lunge for his throat with two fingers.

Lightning quick, he clenches my hand. Bending it back, he demonstrates the ability to snap my wrist before letting it go. Shirtless and dripping with sweat, he hesitates. As Olin rushes up behind him, he raises his hands and backs away. “Neca says to tell you, if you ever wanna visit your garden again, you’ll do exactly what I say.”

I open my mouth to argue.

Olin shakes his head. “It’s Huatiani. He’s onto us.”

The chadzitzin nods, grinding a strip of tzapotl bark in his teeth. “You drew his attention with your stunt at the entrance to the underground. Now he’s had time to surround the place.”

“And you are?”

“Yetic.”

I nod. It takes only a moment to place the name—another well-known psych-fighter. “Well, listen here, Yetic, I don’t take orders from you or Neca, so—”

“Neca also says to tell you, if you want your brother to survive until registration, shut up and run.” Grabbing Olin with one hand and me with the other, he thrusts us out of the dressing room and toward the back of the shop. “The JP’s man guarding the meat market won a lot of money off my last match.”

In a blur, we reach the interior corridor connecting the shops. Yetic sprints to our right. “He let me in. Hopefully he’ll let us out.”

“And why are you helping us?” I don’t like trusting sweaty strangers.

“Neca promised me something I’ve wanted for a long time.” He bursts through the back door to the meat market. “Don’t you worry, Bluehair. There’s no way this side of the underworld I’m not fulfilling my end of the deal.”

The three of us duck behind a counter where a worried butcher does his best to ignore our presence. Brandishing a cleaver, he hacks apart the rib cage of what looks to be a coyotl. I note to avoid his store in the future, then remember I won’t be back. “And what deal is that?”

“Deliver you and your brother safely to the agreed location.” Yetic strips the last of the gummy resin from the piece of tzapotl bark with his teeth before tossing the woody portion. He stares at me while chewing the remaining gum.

I grip Olin’s hand. “And where—”

“Now,” Yetic rushes around the end of the counter.

I’ve no choice but to follow, Olin in tow. We sprint past the open front of the shop and onto the walkway. A man with a stun stick faces us. When he spots Yetic, he nods and looks the other direction. Slapping the pavement with our bare feet, we dart away from the underground’s central entrance—away from Neca. I want to go back, but I keep running. As we sprint down an alley, a hover sled loaded with blockades slides to a stop behind us, removing all possibility.

“We’re not out of the trap yet.” Yetic is as fast as Neca, but not as graceful.

I continue the comparison against my will. The muscles rippling across Yetic’s shoulders and back with each stride reveal he’s more powerful. Power isn’t everything. “Is Neca okay? I mean, Huatiani didn’t—”

“He’s still underground. Said he’d meet us at the rendezvous.”

“How is it you got past Huatiani if Neca couldn’t?”

“Huatiani’s got no problem with me. I’m not even a chadzitzin, at least not for long.”

“Wait, you’re registering?”

“Of course.”

“But you’re a psych-fighter.”

“Hey, just because I fight doesn’t mean I’m an urchin.” Yetic stops and pokes his head around a corner before waving us on. “I live at home with my parents, nice and legal. Which is more than I can say for you and your brother.”

“I’m taking care of that.” Whether Yetic is helping us or not, I resent his air of superiority. And I wish it were Neca leading us to safety.

“You better hope so.”

As we round another corner, Olin squeezes my hand. Glancing at my little brother, I jolt at what I see. His eyes are flickering, the irises rolled into his head. “Olin?”

“I can see them.”

“Olintl, what are you—”

“See who?” Yetic interrupts without slowing our pace.

“Volunteers setting up a checkpoint three blocks ahead.”

Yetic clutches my arm, yanking us into the shadow of an adobe apartment building. He stares at Olin, the whites of his eyes still blank. “Gods. It’s impossible. How is he—”

I shake my head and hold Olin tight. “I don’t know.”

“The only opening is east,” Olin points.

“Xoxochueyi,” Yetic swears between loud smacks of his gum.

“What?”

“It’s exactly what I thought.”

“What?” I’m starting to find Yetic more frustrating than Neca, something I thought impossible.

“Our only way out,” he lopes across the walkway, now heading east. “Come on. We better hurry, or we won’t have any way out, ugly or otherwise.”

Olin and I catch up with Yetic halfway down the block. Eyes now closed, somehow my little brother is able to run normally.

“Will you complete a thought for once,” I huff, “and tell me where we’re going?”

“How’s the foot, by the way?” Yetic doesn’t slow or look back. “I saw the bandage. It looks like the bleeding has stopped.”

I had forgotten about the injury since Neca treated it at Centavo’s. Amazingly, there’s no pain despite the constant use. “Stop changing the subject.”

“Hey, I’m just concerned for your well-being.”

“Sure. Out of the kindness,” I gulp down air, “of your heart.” A raindrop slaps my forehead, drawing my attention toward the dome. The clouds have returned early today, promising a soaker. It doesn’t matter. My new tzotzomatli is already half-drenched in sweat. “Answer the question, or so help me,” I shake my fist at his back, “I’ll knock out my second psych-fighter in the last twenty four hours.”

Yetic chokes, nearly swallowing his gum, before slowing to a jog. “I don’t see the harm in being straightforward, considering the situation.”

“Please, I wish nothing more.”

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Calli Bluehair.”

“What?” My confusion reaches a new high, unable to make the leap Yetic is now suggesting.

“My deal with Neca aside, I’ve been looking for the opportunity to prove myself to you.”

I can’t think of how this boy even knows who I am, much less of why he’s set his sights on impressing me. “Look, Yetic, all I know is if you don’t answer my question, I’m gonna—”

Olin interrupts, “The Shadows.”

I stop in my tracks.

My brother’s eyes have returned to normal. He takes my hand as if to comfort me. “It’s where we’re headed, but it’ll be okay.”

Yetic returns to join us.

I grill him with an angry look.

He shrugs, “Your brother’s right on both counts.”