Poppy’s eyes flickered to Sophia’s, and Sophia was surprised to realize that she already knew that look. Sophia reached under the table and squeezed Poppy’s hand, wondering when she’d begun to care about Poppy so suddenly, so fiercely. But Sophia had come to realize that she was the type of girl who some respected but few liked—like a shot of something bitter and strong. And she’d always clung to those who’d been willing to tolerate the burn.
Poppy collected herself with all the poise of a politician’s daughter. She deftly changed the subject. “I brought notes.”
She showed them a whole page spread in her notebook. It listed several names of the players in Bryce’s game, with a chart filled in with a few known targets. It was cleanly organized and easy to read, though she’d written it all in glittery gel pen.
“It’s not complete, but I thought it would be useful,” Poppy told them. “From what I understand, even if players were to volunteer their cards to reach a string of five, those players would die at the game’s end because they wouldn’t be in possession of their target’s cards—”
“Exactly,” Harrison agreed. “And do you know anyone noble enough to volunteer?”
“Well, I wanted to see if there was a string of five that...” Poppy bit her lip for a moment’s pause, then forced out, “Five people who’d we’d be willing to see dead.”
Delaney made a strangled noise. “That’swhy you’ve been making that chart?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” Poppy shot back. “There are some despicable people in this game.”
Her gaze fell on Harrison.
Harrison pursed his lips, as though irritated when he should’ve felt uncomfortable, or better yet—guilty. “That would be fortunate for us indeed,” Harrison said in a low voice. “May I?” He nodded at her notebook, and she slid it to him. He pulled a ballpoint pen from his blazer’s pocket and wrote in a few extra names. Then he returned it to her. “Now you have a larger chart. You tell me who you’d be willing to sentence to death.”
Poppy straightened and tucked a stray blond hair behind her ear. “Well, Scythe and Ivory—or whatever her real name is—are killers. Bryce is the one who started this game. Zula Slyk, Creighton Holt, and...” she glanced nervously at Sophia “...Jac Mardlin are already dead.”
“So I learned when Harvey gave me Zula’s card, Zula’s target was Sophia,” Harrison said, pulling out the Sunand laying it faceup on the table. “So I’m afraid that path is a dead end.”
Vianca would’ve had no qualms sacrificing her omertas, Sophia knew. So maybe that did make Harrison better than his mother, if only marginally. Not that his morals should matter to her.
But theyweresimilar, as he’d said. Sophia wondered if she was terrible for missing her family, if she was allowed to miss people who’d committed such heinous crimes. But Harrison still wore his Augustine ring, and he’d destroyed his family’s empire just like she had. If he was even a little bit good, then she could be good, too.
“You said Creighton was beheaded,” Harrison continued. “That sounds like the work of Scythe. Creighton was probably his target. We could start there, but we don’t know Scythe’s card. Process of elimination will only get us so far. And Bryce already has Harvey’s card, and like I said, even if Brycecouldbe killed, I’d like to see the four of—” he nodded at Poppy “—thefiveof us safe.”
“So even if we did fill in this entire chart,” Sophia said, “there’s no string of five players that we’d be willing to see dead.”
“Then what do we do?” Delaney asked.
“We wait,” Harrison answered. “There are nineteen players left. Not everyone has made their first move.”
Delaney scowled as she looked out the window to the view of the Financial District. “By ‘wait,’ you mean wait for people to die who we’d rather not kill ourselves. That’s real honorable of us.”
Poppy scoffed. “You really expected honor from him?”
Harrison folded his hands neatly across the table and leaned closer to Delaney. “You’rethe one from the House of Shadows.You’rethe one who knows more about shades than any of us. So tell us—what are our other options?”
Delaney swallowed. “I don’t have any.”
“Then we stick to the original plan. We learn more about the Bargainer’s weaknesses. If we have her, we have negotiating power with Bryce.” Harrison glanced at Poppy’s notebook. This time, he did not ask permission. He flipped to a new page and wrote a new list of names. “These are people I’ve heard have made deals with the Bargainer. Maybe we can get insight about her weaknesses there. Maybe if we collect enough pieces, we’ll be able to discern the whole picture.”
The list wasn’t a lead—it was a last resort. And the idea of meeting with others like herself didn’t sound comforting. Only the most desperate made a deal with the Bargainer, and Sophia felt just as desperate now as she had before. To get her memories back. To keep the players who mattered to her safe.
“Then I guess this is all we have,” Delaney said quietly, sounding defeated.
“With my inauguration approaching,” Harrison said, averting Poppy’s steely gaze, “I won’t have a chance to meet for some weeks, but I hope that gives you time to find answers. If they can be found.”
“Fine, then.” Poppy stood up. “I’m not hungry. Let’s just leave.” She walked to the exit and motioned for the other girls to follow. Delaney did, but Sophia lingered, only for a moment.
“You have cursed pieces from the House of Shadows, too, don’t you?” Sophia asked Harrison.
“Of course,” he said coolly. “I keep myself protected.”
“Because you had Worner Prescott assassinated?” she said.
