“Catcher.” This time my voice is barely a whisper. “Please,” I add.

He looks up at me, his face gaunt and oh-so sad and lonely. I want to know if he’s been eating and sleeping and taking care of himself. I reach out a hand to him but he’s so far away. He stands there, a rock in the river of Unconsecrated undulating around him. It’s like he doesn’t exist to them.

And then he raises one hand to his mouth, fingers touching his lips. I raise my own hand to my lips as he fades into the wash of death and disappears.

I stand there shivering, wishing he’d come back, but there’s nothing. Just the dead struggling out onto the partially frozen river before the ice cracks and swallows them, lifeless fingers clambering for the stars.

“Doesn’t look like he’s too interested in you,” a voice says. I turn to find a Recruiter climbing the platform steps. He weaves toward me. “His loss.” His ss come out as a slurred hiss. He stops out of reach, his mouth breaking into a slow grin, then adds, “My gain.”

I freeze. My eyes dart everywhere, trying to determine the best escape. The platform’s long and narrow, stairs down to the island on one end and the other hanging out past the wall over the river. There’s a rickety railing of sorts with a rope ladder leading down to the shore. But even if I were to crawl through it I’d just end up on the wrong side of the barricades with no way to get back inside.

Below me a few Unconsecrated who’ve found purchase on the tiny shore reach up for me. One of them’s bald with a white tunic, like the woman in the cage inside the main building. Their moans rip away on the wind.

I shove my hands in my pockets, feeling the small lump of my switchblade there. It’s not much and probably couldn’t cause any mortal wounds, but it makes me feel calmer just holding the cold metal.

I shake my hair back from my face, knowing that the light from the fire at the end of the platform will highlight the scars along my cheek and neck. I hope it makes me look fierce—like a fighter.

The Recruiter’s smile grows wider. “Not many women on this island anymore,” he says. “Not ones you’d want to have a lot of fun with, if you know what I mean.” My stomach turns as I think of the Unconsecrated woman in the death cage and the others lining the hall beyond. He hasn’t moved any closer, just stands there knowing he’s blocking my only escape. “I keep telling Ox he should parade y’all around more often but he seems resistant to the idea. For now.”