Europe, 1925. There's the invisible world... and then there's the invisible underworld. The reckoner mobs exist on the fringes of the possible. They traffic in the most precious commodity imaginable: life, apportioned and credited in the Cindered Tally of the Madrugad. You were one of them. Now you're on the run, with nothing but the clothes on your back and a staggering fortune in borrowed years. The reckoner lord you betrayed is intent on extracting every heartbeat you've stolen - even if h...