Mr. Bunce turns back to the ritual and shakes his head. “Nicks and Slick, what a predicament…” I must look miserable, because he pats my hand and says, “Well. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You couldn’t have known what you were getting into.”

“Well, he did know he was summoning a demon…” Penelope says.

Her dad shoots her another reproving look. “It’s remarkable that you have a translation,” he says to me. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Do you mind if I take photos?”

“Go ahead.”

He gets out his phone.

“We need to find a way out of this,” Penelope says.

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Bunce agrees. He’s taking very careful photos. “Hold that paper flat for me?” I spread out the papers.

“Dad.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you have any ideas?”

“Well.” He blows out a long breath and sits back in his chair. “I mean, there’s more legend than actual scholarship. I’ve read about people promising their souls to demons in exchange for power or wealth or some sort of intervention … What did you get out of it, Shepard?”

“Nothing,” I say. “I didn’t ask for anything.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Penelope is rolling her eyes.

“No, that’s good,” her dad says. “It would be harder to get out of the contract if you’d spent the money or cured your cancer.”

“Could we argue that I didn’t know what I was doing?”

“We could,” he says, “but it’s not like there’s a judge and jury to hear the case.”

“Then how can I possibly get out of this?”

He rubs his chin. “Well, you could appeal to the demon himself.”

“Herself,” I say.

“Herself,” he amends. “Demons are historically very law-abiding. They love signatures, terms, contracts…”

Penelope looks surprised. “They do?”

“Oh yeah,” her dad says. “That’s how they get you.”

“So we have to find a legal way out of the engagement?” she asks. “We can’t just break the curse? Or dissolve it? Or kill the demon?”

Her dad frowns at her. “Promise me you won’t try to fight a demon.”

“Is there scholarship on that?”

“No,” he says.

“What about…” She’s rubbing her chin, too. “Could we find someone else to marry the demon?”

I hold up my hand between them. “I’m not damning someone else.”

Penelope cocks her head. “You never know, we might find someone who’s into demons…”

“No,” I say.

“Well,” she says, “I’m not ruling it out.”

“I don’t suppose you’d been married before?” her dad asks me.

“No.”

“That’s too bad. Any children?”

“No.”

Mr. Bunce covers the lower part of his face with his hand, like just holding his chin wouldn’t be thoughtful enough. “Hmmm…” He shifts his fingers down. “Previously baptized?”

“No. Sorry.”