hundred and thirty acres? The campus isn't that big.”
“It sold off some of the land to raise money for construction, back when it was still a college.” Andy held out a hand, and Jack handed him the book.
“Is there any indication of how the owners died?” Todd asked.
“Nope. Old age?”
“It wasn’t old age,” Andy said, reading. “They were only in their forties, according to the birthdates given here.”
“Amon!” Todd called out. The demon slinked out from the shadows, scraps of charred flesh trailing behind it like dark streamers. “I need a favor.”
Amon scuttled across the floor and crawled into Todd’s lap, pressing its knobby head against the theologian’s sweater.
“What can I do for you, beloved?” it asked, its dark tongue flickering out to wipe its beak.
“Hey!” Andy frowned, looking up. “Get that thing out of here. We don’t need a devil’s assistance.”
“Do you plan to read books while Rome burns?” Todd asked. His large hand touched Amon’s skull with apparent affection. “Amon’s specialty is telling the past and future. Now that we know what we’re looking for, he can search hell for an answer and bring it to us.”
“And if they’re in heaven?”
“Then your friend Jack can conjure us an angel.”
“I generally avoid conjurations,” Jack said. Conjurations of any kind were dangerously close to black magick, and conjurations intended to compel another being into service were especially risky.
Todd ignored him, lowering his head. “Amon, beloved, can you tell us how the Gudruns, who once lived in this house, died? Does it have anything to do with the field of bones?”
Amon placed three legs on Todd’s chest, their claws snagging in his sweater, and thrust its beak into Todd’s mouth like a baby bird seeking a meal. Then it withdrew, its muzzle shiny and dark. It twisted, stepping from the theologian’s lap into nothingness.
Todd lifted a hand and wiped his mouth with his wrist. Blood streaked his dark skin.
Jack looked away, revolted. At least with the devil gone, his protective wards settled back down into watchful passivity.
“I’m concerned about the wisdom of working with you, Edward,” Andy said.
“Amon says the same thing about you,” Todd replied, his voice thick as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He swallowed and dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief, then wiped off his wrist. “Sorry. Tongue.”
“Andy,” Jack said uneasily, “here’s something for you to think over.”
“What’s that?”
“Todd doesn’t set off my wards, and neither do those giant worm-things.” Jack jammed his hands into his jacket pockets. “Why not?”
“I don’t know why your spells wouldn’t register Edward’s magick. The...worms...could be some kind of natural phenomena...although I doubt it.”
“You don’t suppose they’re working together, then?”
Todd laughed softly, behind them. “Why would I work with a worm?” he asked.
Andy and Jack exchanged looks. The professor jerked his head slightly to one side, and Jack lifted a shoulder.
“If Edward is really what he claims to be—someone who stands between God and Satan—then perhaps his power doesn’t set off your wards because it’s neutral,” Andy suggested, after a moment.
“Power has to come from somewhere. God or Satan—there ain’t any third choice.”
Andy sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe what he does is as unmagickal as an internal combustion engine, but we just don’t understand it.”
Jack thought about those infernal crematoriums spewing the ashes of the damned over burnt-branch catwalks and couldn’t bring himself to agree.
The earth jolted and something crashed somewhere in the house. Sirens began wailing again in the distance.
“Did the university keep any of the Gudrun family’s belongings?” Todd asked, standing. He spoke as clearly as ever, as though whatever injury Amon had inflicted on him a minute ago had already