Holy.

Shit.

I sat stunned. That was a little too close to home. How much had she heard last night? I’d only just learned this stuff myself, and she couldn’t have overheard me tell Cookie. She’d already been at school. But how did she know about the thirteenth warrior? How did she know he could tip the scales in the uprising of Satan and his army on this plane?

Without further ado, Amber snapped back to the present and held out her hand. “Three dollars, please.”

I replaced my lagging jaw and dug into my bag for some ones. Either Amber was one of the best actresses I’d ever seen, or she just channeled Edgar Cayce.

“Hon, did you hear Reyes and me talking last night?”

“Pfft, no. I was out like a lamppost.”

Kids and metaphors didn’t always mix. I handed her a five and told her to keep the change.

“Sweet,” she said, stuffing the money into a cup beside her. “Next!” she yelled, effectively kicking me out.

I stepped out and saw Ubie. Still stunned by Madam Amber, I asked, “What are you doing here? Is there something new on the case? Is it Dad? Did you find him?”

He raised his brows and waited for me to notice the fact that he was holding Cookie’s hand.

“Oh. Oh! So, you’re here in a nonprofessional capacity.”

“Yes, pumpkin. I’m surprised you’d forget so easily after all the trouble you went to to get us together.”

Cookie blushed a pretty pink.

“Next!” Amber shouted from her blanket tent. She was so impatient.

“I’ll go next,” Cookie said. “She practiced on me, so this should be short and sweet.”

Quentin was busy checking out two kids trying to juggle samurai swords. Middle school boys and samurai swords. Those boys had very brave parents. Or really good health insurance.

I sidled up to Reyes and said, “Did you hear any of that?”

“I did. And can I just say, what the f**k?”

“Right there with ya. You know, part of the prophecies say that those who can serve and protect the daughter will be drawn to me. Maybe all of this, everything, me moving into that building, meeting Osh, meeting Quentin, knowing Pari, who can also see the departed, and now with Amber, maybe it’s all part of some big plan. Some kind of security system for Beep.”

“I’m beginning to wonder. And I’m really beginning to wonder who the thirteenth warrior is. If he could tip the scales and he could tip them out of our daughter’s favor in her most desperate hour, maybe we should see to it that he doesn’t live long enough to choose.”

“I’m beginning to wonder. But how will we know who he is?”

“Next!” came Amber’s insistent shout.

“Your turn. Maybe she’ll shed more light onto this situation.”

He nodded, then ducked, really low, to get into the tent. I stepped closer and listened in, but Amber went through the usual routine with him. No trances, just her giggles and fascination with my affianced, which was utterly charming.

He paid up, lest he face the wrath of Amber the Astonishing, and ducked back out again. Not an easy task for someone who was six-four.

After a round of games and some of the unhealthiest fare in the state, Reyes, Osh, and I left Cookie at the carnival. She’d promised to help tear down.

“Okay,” I said, sidling up to her, “don’t forget about the plan tonight.”

“How could I forget about the plan?” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not. If it works, it’s not ridiculous. And it’s going to work.”

“Okay, but I don’t even own a shovel.”

“I have two. No worries.”

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

She asked it as though there were a chance I’d soothe her qualms. “Duh.”

I did a little research when we got home, before going to bed. Osh took Sophie again, lounging against her armrest as I typed in everything from the Twelve, to hellhounds, to the thirteenth warrior, which yielded much Antonio, so that was fun. But I found nothing on my current-slash-future predicament.

Having synchronized our watches earlier, Cookie snuck into the apartment right on cue.

“Are you ready?” she asked, whispering.

“Ready as a drunk virgin on prom night.”

I went to the bedroom. Reyes was fast asleep, his breathing deep and rhythmic. I hated to wake him. I didn’t, however, hate to wake Osh. He’d supped on the souls of many a desperate man in his time, and he deserved to be deprived of a few hours of blissful slumber. Someone had to go with us. No way was I going out into the night without backup. There were beasts out there. Twelve of them. Once we got to the cemetery, we’d be safe. Consecrated ground and all. It was the in between here and there I worried about. But the only time we could dig up a grave with any hope of going undetected was at night.

So, I tiptoed over to him, put a hand on his mouth, and leaned close to his ear.

“Osh,” I said, kneeing his hip. “Wake up.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he said from behind my hand.

I snatched it back. “Sorry.”

“So, grave digging, huh?”

“How’d you know?” I asked, holding a shovel in my other hand.

“Okay, that was a good drive,” I said, looking over at a traumatized Cookie as I pulled to a stop in the cemetery.

“You ran three red lights.”