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the order of another day? They stared, fighting, she knew, the same bitterness that had taken deep root in her own mind.
    Gamil finally approached the altar. He touched the amulet gingerly, followed by Adah, then Mattius. In hours to come, the door to the chamber would be laid open to the others, who would cometo express their sorrow. But for now they must decide what to say to those who had placed trust in their leaders.
    “He died quickly,” Jordin said. “A single blow.”
    “You call this Jonathan’s intervention?” Gamil said.
    I don’t know what to call any of this.
    “No. I call it his doing that I’m still alive.”
    Adah turned, robe swirling. “We’ll be out of food in two days. We can’t go on like this, Rom. The children need protein and starch. They’re starving in their beds, under orders not to get up and expend unnecessary energy. And the older ones—Celinda, Rojert, Mekar—I have more than ten aged souls who will be too weak to walk if we delay any longer. This Sanctuary will become our grave.”
    “Ironic,” Jordin heard herself murmur.
    “Make the food stretch,” Rom said, ignoring her. “Jordin and I will get the rice.”
    “When? These missions are clearly far too dangerous now.”
    “Tonight,” Jordin said. “The Dark Bloods around the warehouse are most likely dead at the hands of the Immortals who saved me. Either way, they won’t expect us to return tonight.”
    “Immortals?” Gamil said. “Why would they save you? These are the same hosts of hell who slaughtered so many of us a year ago and now keep us trapped in the city.”
    “They didn’t mean to save me. But I can guarantee you they made quick work of the Bloods that had me surrounded.” She gave a curt nod.
    “We can’t afford to lose both of you.”
    “Then Rom stays and you come with me. You heard Adah. We need the rice.”
    “We need to get out of the city while the elderly can still walk,” Adah objected.
    Rom said in an even tone, “We’ve been over this before. The Immortals hold the wastelands to the north, south, east, and west. They’ll smell us from miles away and hunt us down in the open. Wehave no choice but to stay deep, where our scent is masked by the city above us. Leaving isn’t an option.”
    “I say we stand a better chance begging for mercy than being starved out here.” Adah pointed a finger toward the chamber door and the chambers beyond. “Have you seen the state of those who remain? Please, we can’t sit here and allow what’s left of our kind to die. We do nothing here but waste away.”
    “I understand your concern, Adah. But we have done what we as a council agreed to be Jonathan’s will since his passing. He will make a way; we have no choice but to stand fast.”
    “Adah’s right,” Gamil said. “We have fewer than ten able bodies who might hold a sword, none of them with any fighting skills. If we stay, we will die. We’ve done as we thought Jonathan willed, but now it’s only a matter of time before the Dark Bloods snuff us out. We have to protect the blood that runs in our veins. Jonathan came to us for a purpose, and that blood is his legacy.”
    Rom looked at Jordin for support.
    She studied them, noting Mattius’s silence. The older man with graying hair in his neatly trimmed beard wore an unyielding stare. Before the Book’s passing, the pair of alchemists had been inseparable, at work day and night with their acolytes. They would bring life to all Corpses in one fell swoop, they had said. Jordin had placed no faith in such a drastic measure—nor did she want anything to do with involuntary conversions between the species. Sovereigns converted through choice, not force. But she had held her tongue in the face of desperation and missing answers.
    “Rom’s right. We stand no chance of survival in the wastelands—Roland’s set on ridding the world of us, we all know that much. We’re hunted through the city and out of hiding places. Our only option is to