Free Sovereign by Ted Dekker Page A

beyond.
    The Sanctuary existed beneath the massive footings of a ruin that had never been reconstituted or demolished. Stunted shrubs had taken up residence in the most recent decades, nearly obscuring the crumbling stone.
    Jordin slipped out the opening, glancing back once to make sure the canvas had fallen over the breach in the old wall. Satisfied, she placed the glasses on her face and eased through the brush to check for passersby.
    Only fifty-eight Sovereigns had come to the Sanctuary a year ago. Fifty-eight of the hundreds that had once been so sure, so fervent in their ways, survivors of an Immortal raid on their caves south of Byzantium. They had come to the city for refuge and to escape Roland’s horde…. only to throw themselves in the way of eighty thousand Dark Bloods and two million fearful Corpses.
    The narrow path that snaked past the south side of the ruins was clear. Jordin ducked out and headed toward it, along the ruin wall. Rusted oil drums and heaps of rubble littered the vacant yard. The ancient ruin was located in a sparsely occupied section of the city far south of the Citadel. But she was about to enter the Dark Blood perimeter that monitored all activity to and from the city.
    Keeping her head down, she walked naturally, as any Corpse out for a stroll in the morning might, hands stuffed in her pockets. She was just that, she kept telling herself. An ordinary Corpse out for a walk and lost in thought.
    The first man she saw looked to be no more than in his twenties, squatting on a half wall on the far side of the compound fifty meters distant. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and he was watching her. She diverted her gaze. Had he sensed the spicy scent of her skin and breath? Which way was the wind blowing? Her pulse quickened.
    Just a Corpse like him, Jordin told herself. Nod and walk on. It’s nothing.
    So she did, without changing her pace. It had been at least a month since she’d seen a Corpse in daylight. They looked the same as any Sovereign except for the dullness of their eyes.
    She came to the edge of the abandoned complex and eased sideways through a gap in the fence that circled the rubble and ruins.She angled for an alleyway across the adjacent street, eager to cross before an oncoming bicyclist could scent her. There were far fewer people here than to the north, which lessened her likelihood of exposure. It also made her more noticeable to each Corpse she encountered.
    Only when she reached the relative safety of the alley did her anxiety subside. So far, so good.
    For an hour Jordin made her way south, cutting east and west to access alleyways, keeping as much distance as she could between herself and any Corpse by exiting those narrow ways only when the street was clear of carts, intermittent crowds of pedestrians exiting the underground, and the occasional car or truck, though they were few. The sun had climbed a third of the way into the sky by the time she reached the massive culvert that ran into the waterways beneath Byzantium’s southern neighborhoods. Dark Bloods often took up post at the end of the open drain, but likely more so as evening approached, guarding against any Immortal who might use the passage for easy entrance into the city.
    She made it halfway through the culvert and pulled up hard. The circle of light at the far end was broken by the clear silhouette of a Dark Blood facing away from her. She glanced over her shoulder. Dark. They wouldn’t be able to see her approach.
    The sound of her footfall was another matter. Dark Bloods often patrolled in groups of four, which meant three more might be loitering nearby. The wasteland’s barren hills waited beyond. She would have to reach them without raising an alarm—Dark Bloods had no qualms about giving chase during the day.
    Jordin slung the pack off her back and pulled out the beige tunic and head wrap. Shrugging out of her vest, she changed into the lighter colors that would help her better blend into