“What do you have in mind?” Milo asked.
“The one that got away,” Edgar said. “It’s a story I was told by a very dangerous man, name of Dacre Shanks. You heard of him?”
Milo shook his head. Amber didn’t bother.
“Dacre Shanks was a particularly nasty serial killer back in the late sixties, early seventies. This small-town Sheriff’s Department eventually tracked him down, in 1974 I think, and went in all guns blazing. Shanks fell in a hail of bullets. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. Anyway, I met him a few years ago, and he told—”
“Wait,” said Amber. “You just said he died in 1974.”
“He did,” Edgar said, nodding. “But before the cops closed in on him, he’d already made his deal with the Shining Demon.”
“He’s still alive?”
“Technically? No. But he’s still around. Last I heard he was in his hometown of Springton, Wisconsin, happily killing a bunch of teenagers, but that was fifteen or so years ago. If you can find him, he might be able to help you.”
“You want us to ask a serial killer for help?”
Edgar shrugged. “It’s a scary world – you got to be prepared to meet scary people. Dacre Shanks qualifies as a scary person. He’s up there with Elias Mauk and Leighton Utt … maybe even the Narrow Man. Outwardly, charming as all heck, but … well. Serial killer, you know? I met him through a mutual acquaintance and arranged an interview of sorts. The man just wanted someone to talk to, and he talked a lot. I got some very graphic descriptions of what he’d done to his victims, some very disturbing insights into his mind … We talked about death, about how it felt when those bullets riddled his body, about what happened after. Milo knows what I’m talking about, right?”
Milo said nothing, and Amber frowned.
“And we talked about the deal he’d made with the Shining Demon,” Edgar continued. “How he summoned him, what the terms were, how he found out about him in the first place. And he told me a story I’d never heard before, and I thought I’d heard all the stories about our shining friend. He told me about a man who’d made a deal – I don’t know the circumstances surrounding it, but it was a deal like any other – and then welched on it. The Shining Demon granted him whatever he wanted, but, instead of paying him back in the agreed-upon fashion, this guy skips town, and the Shining Demon loses him. And the Shining Demon never loses a mark.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Amber asked.
Edgar smiled. “If you can find this guy, you can offer his location to the Shining Demon in exchange for getting your parents off your back.”
“You know where he is?”
“Haven’t a clue,” Edgar said, almost happily. “Shanks wanted to talk, sure, but he was pretty cagey with the things he had to say. You’d have to ask him yourself. You might like him. He’s got some pretty funny stories. They’ll give you nightmares, but they’re still pretty funny.”
“Uh,” said Amber, “I don’t really want to talk to a serial killer.”
Edgar chuckled. “You’ll be perfectly safe. Milo here will look after you.”
Amber glanced at Milo. Just how dangerous was this guy?
“Why don’t you come with us?” Milo asked. “You know him, he knows you, you can make the introductions.”
“I’d love to,” said Edgar, “but he said he’d kill me if he ever saw me again.”
“Why?”
Edgar shrugged. “The conversation turned sour – what can I say? Serial killer, you know?”
EDGAR WENT TO FETCH the paraphernalia Amber would need to summon the Shining Demon, and the moment he was out of the room Amber looked over at Milo.
“I’m doing it now?”
Milo shrugged.
“Imelda said it took days of fasting and loads of preparation.”
“There’s more than one way to summon the Shining Demon,” said Milo. “Sometimes you don’t even have to summon him – he’ll appear right when you’re at your most vulnerable.”
“Milo, I don’t know …”
“If you don’t want to do this, say so. We’ll find some other way.”
“Is there another way?”
Milo didn’t answer.
Amber slowly clasped her face in her hands and dragged her fingers down her cheeks.
Then she sat forward. “So what do I say? How do I greet the Shining Demon? Do I call him sir, or lord, or master?”
“He’s not your lord and not your master, so you don’t have to call him anything. Relax, okay? You don’t have to be so nervous. Talk to him like you’d talk to me, but don’t agree to anything other than the terms you want. Ignore everything he says that isn’t on topic. He’ll try to trick you. Listen to every word he uses, because he uses them for a reason.”
“You’re not making me any less nervous.”
“Sorry.”
“Do you think this is a good idea?”
“It’s the best one we have.”
“That’s not saying a lot, though, is it?”
“No, it’s not.”
Amber sat back. Her insides were in knots. “What do you think Imelda will do when she finds out I actually met the Shining Demon?”
“That all depends on whether this plan works.”
“How do you know her, anyway?” she asked.
“How does anyone know anyone?”
“I don’t know. They meet?”
“There you go,” said Milo. “We met.”
Edgar came back in. Amber didn’t know quite what she had been expecting – maybe a robe, or a ceremonial dagger, or a box full of candles with pentagrams moulded on to their sides. She wasn’t expecting a large leather pouch, shaped like a deflated balloon.
“It’s a gunpowder flask,” Edgar said proudly, handing it over with something approaching reverence. It was heavy, filled to its leather stopper with what felt like sand. “Persian, nineteenth century, made from a camel crotch.”
“Ew.”
Edgar chuckled. “Don’t worry, the camel’s long dead.”
“Still ew.”
“See those engravings on the hide? Those intricate little engravings? I don’t know what they are. Pretty, though, aren’t they?”
“There’s gunpowder in here?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Something far more powerful. Far more valuable, too. The only reason I’m letting you use it is because I couldn’t get it to work myself.”
Milo frowned. “You tried summoning the Shining Demon?”
“Everyone wants something,” Edgar said, a little sadly, “but I just wasn’t interesting enough for him to bother with. Story of my life, huh? But, if this will work for anyone, it’ll