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of stolen children. The meat is delicious, seared and salty. Venison. He takes another bite. His dormant stomach comes alive with hunger and he begins stuffing bite after bite into his mouth. Around him the other boys are doing the same.
    Ezbeth appears at the entrance, leading the band of girls. They curve around the partition and enter the opposite side of the dining hall, scrubbed and wearing fresh clean dresses of simple linen, with little leather slippers on their feet. Ezbeth guides them through the same process and soon they are huddled over their plates, devouring every last scrap.
    Ezbeth and Nisaq confer privately by the entrance.
    “How are they?” she asks.
    “Fine. A fine group.”
    “Have you had any trouble from this one,” she says, pointing to Jack. “He may be violent.”
    Nisaq breathes deeply, thinking. “He’s calm. I think he’ll come around. We’ll fix him if he doesn’t. And the girls?”
    “They’re lovely.”
    “Wonderful.”
     

     
    Ezbeth takes the girls to a rough-hewn lodge, built off to the side of the amphitheatre, overlooking the bluffs, a temporary structure while the Temple dormitory is constructed. Stewards corral them inside like little ducklings while two sentries stand guard.
    “Come in, girls, and see your new home,” sings Ezbeth. “You can each pick your own bed and start getting settled in.”
    The girls take hesitant steps through the lodge, stealing cautious glances toward their captors. Ezbeth and the stewards smile and wave them forward. They choose their bunks and stand nervously by, awaiting further instruction. Lia picks one in the back corner, as far away from the door as she can get.
    Jeneth stops in the middle of the room and turns to face Ezbeth.
    “Why did you bring us here?” she asks, her voice cracking. “Who are you?”
    A few of the girls shush here brusquely, fearful her questions might trigger another windfall of violence from the killers stationed at the door.
    “It’s okay,” says Ezbeth, “What is your name, young lady?”
    “Jeneth.”
    “Jeneth, those questions and many others will be answered tonight at the welcoming ceremony. Right now, all you need to do is make yourself at home.”
    “This isn’t my home.” Her voice is firmer now, stronger.
    “Jeneth, shut up.”
    The other girls step back instinctually and press their backs to the walls.
    Ezbeth’s demeanor remains calm and cheerful.
    “I know it doesn’t feel like your home now. But it will. That I can promise.” She strides to the door, turning back before she leaves. “You have some time to rest—use it. We’ll come for you shortly.”
    Their captors exit and the girls can hear the bar being slid into place outside, locking them in. Silence falls on the lodge. The little wallflowers, as if drawn by magnetism, gather in the center and embrace each other wordlessly, their tender sobs the only communication any of them can manage for some time.
     

     
    “Enjoy your quarters, boys. We worked hard to provide them.” Nisaq’s deep voice booms as he walks through the chamber, situated in the completed wing on the west side of the Temple. Narrow shafts cut through the sandstone reveal thin fragments of the outside world. “Take a bunk, whichever you like, they’re all the same. And probably more comfortable than what you’re used to sleeping on.”
    The wide-eyed boys scatter around the room, staking tentative claims on the bunks.
    “I think, with a little time, you’ll grow to like it here,” he says, letting his sparkling gaze dart about the room from face to terrified face. “For now, just relax. I’ll be back very soon.”
    The door closes with a thud and they are locked inside.
    Braylon is up first, coursing along the wall, peering out the thin vertical windows.
    “We’re up high,” he says, “and I don’t think any of us could fit through these windows anyway.”
    William furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”
    “Running. That’s