◂ The board · Hunt 10 of 99 · Opening Run
The Dealer
Hunt 10: Painted Eyes
Hunt 10 · Heist
Painted Eyes
The Dealer · Marl
The Dealer has dealt at the Sleeping Kaiju for fifty-one years without blinking, because his eyes are lacquered onto the lids over copper and stone. Kellen takes the empty chair at his table to win a hand that must stay under nine thousand chips, while the last of the paint crazes and flakes.
Abigail's notebookDurbo's back. The floor breathes.
Nine to One. Durbo's Back. Tuesday local, Friday House.
This casino is on an animal.
I'm trying to think how to tell you. You come in along a ramp, up something that looks like a long hill with lanterns on it, and the hill's breathing about once every eleven seconds. It's a Drum beast the size of a town, with a promenade along the spine and a vault in a cool spot under the ribs. And these gray domed things as big as a city bus sit around on the shoulders, drinking. What are they? Ticks. Livestock, actually. A Drum family owns them, and they brand them and go have breakfast. I'm told lamp oil on this side of the galaxy is mostly them.
Rules: the beast sleeps as long as nobody wins too big. Nine thousand chips and he rolls over, so everything in the building's arranged around not waking it. The Marl pit bosses keep a kid on the roof with a whistle, watching the sky, because when a giant's about to roll over, every scale lark for a mile goes up at once, four breaths before.
A heart the size of a tram goes under your feet, so slow you forget it. Then it goes again.

The people
Marl
Hard-skinned and stocky, with stone-like patches that can be struck without pain.
Reliable if you're paying, dangerous if you're owed.
ALSO ON THE BOARD: The Doorman (43), The Pit Boss (75), Brother Anvil (98)

