Page 125 of Amber Gambler

Harrow hesitated for the briefest second before bellycrawling to join Carter. They scooted out, got to their feet, and fanned out to begin their search. They must have seen or heard something to make them think Audrey was being held in one of the other train cars on display.

No sooner had my temples quit throbbing than pebbles scattered behind my head. I flipped over toward the motionand bitterly regretted my life choices as my brain sloshed from the motion. The sleep spell, a favorite of Ankou’s, packed a whammy. No wonder it had taken Matty hours to shake off its effects.

“Badb?” I exhaled with relief. “You are real, aren’t you?”

“As real as I’ve ever been, me duck.”

The Yorkshire accent made zero sense for a crow living in Georgia, though I suppose Kierce could have met her anywhere. And duck? She pronounced it to rhyme with book. Almost like duke but not quite.

Not that pinning down her nationality was important.

That was definitely the head injuries talking.

“You’re a figment of my imagination, but that’s okay. I don’t mind the company.”

Unable to tell if I was truly awake, and with no clue where reality began, I could only go with the flow.

“You must have hit your head harder than I thought.”

“Which time?” I resisted the urge to touch the sticky headband fabric. “Concussion maybe?”

It’s time to play dream or concussion. I’m your host, Frankie Talbot.

“Oh, dear.” She hopped closer. “Himself won’t be pleased about this.”

“Kierce?” I scratched her head. “Where is he, anyway?”

Questioning a figment of my imagination couldn’t be healthy.

“Don’t worry about him.” She nipped my finger gently. “The only way to save Audrey is to mark Little for Dis Pater and summon him to collect.”

That was oddly specific informationifI was still dreaming. Had I overheard Kierce mention Dis Pater by name but was only remembering it now? Or had I made a guess based on things I had read? Either way…

Gulp.

“Dis Pater,” I squeaked out. “The Roman god of the underworld?”

That was who Kierce worked for? That was his boss? I… I hadn’t been thinking big enough.

Vi would have a heart attack when I told her if I didn’t have one before I got the chance.

“Well, yes, but he mostly writes cozy mysteries from his cottage in Manchester-by-the-Sea.”

Massachusetts. Kierce had told me his god was fond of it. But the god of death wrote cozies?

“You are a very convincing hallucination.”

“Hmm.” She swiveled her head the way birds do. “Then why don’t you humor me?”

“You want me to mark Little for death.” I followed her out from under the train car. “That’s…harsh.”

“Her failure to set boundaries for Ankou meant the first person she killed was the one she loved most.”

“Farah,” I agreed, figuring my subconscious was combing over facts I already knew for clarity.

“Ankou killed the others. He expected Harrow would use their deaths as leverage to keep Audrey cooperative while she was under house arrest. Ankou counted on Harrow’s warnings to backfire. He expected Audrey to panic. To think Farah might be next and rush back to save her.”

“And Little would have been waiting there to pick off Audrey and close the deal.”

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