"Got it in one," says Gideon, her voice bleak, full of ash and chips of bone. She'd left her sneakers in the sand when she hit the beach, and she bends to snag them, putting them back on before they step off onto the street. "Wait all this time for a fucking necromancer and along comes the wrong one." Guilt twists through her belly, and she shoots him an apologetic glance. "Sorry."