If he took everything at face value, if everything were true, if he were some kind of savior, then…if he walked away, the only peace his mother knew was gone. And as attractive as he might find the emptiness and timelessness of nonexistence, that was a cold exchange for where she was now.

“How does it work?” he asked. “What do I do?”

Nigel smiled. “Seven deadly sins. Seven souls swayed by these sins. Seven people at a crossroads with a choice that must be made. You enter their lives and affect their path. If they choose righteousness over sin, we prevail.”

“And if they don’t…”

“The other side wins.”

“What is the other side?”

“The opposite of what we are.”

Jim glanced over at the table with its white linens and sparkling silver. “So…we’re talking about a bunch of ass-scratchers sitting on Barcaloungers watching Girls Gone Wild and drinking beer.”

Colin laughed. “Not hardly, mate. Although that is an image, indeed.”

Nigel glared at his buddy and then looked back at Jim. “The other side is evil. I shall let your mind summon the appropriate reference, but if you should want a place to start, you have but to think of what was done to your mother and know that those who hurt her enjoyed it.”

Jim’s gut clenched so hard, he leaned to the side and dry-heaved. When a hand smoothed over his back, he had a feeling it was Bertie. And he was right.

Eventually, Jim’s gag reflex cut the crap and he got his breath back. “What if I can’t do this?”

Colin spoke up. “I shall not lie—it is not going to be easy. The other side is capable of everything. But you shall not be without resources.”

Jim frowned. “Wait, the other side thinks I’m going to be a bad influence? During the crossroads of these people?”

Nigel nodded. “They have the same faith in you that we have. But we had the advantage of reaching out to you.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Coin toss.”

Jim blinked. Right, because…that’s how they did it at the Super Bowl.

Focusing on the gates, he tried to see his mom not as how he’d left her on that kitchen floor, but as these princes said she was. Happy. Relieved of burden. Whole.

“Who are the seven people?”

“For the identification of this first one, we shall give you a bit of help and make it obvious,” Nigel said, getting to his feet. “Good luck.”

“Hold on a minute—how will I know what to do?”

“Use your head,” Colin cut in.

“No,” Bertie said, cradling his wolfhound’s face, “your heart.”

“Just believe in the future.” Byron pushed his tinted glasses up on his nose. “Hope is the best—”

Nigel rolled his eyes. “Just tell people what to do. It cuts down on the conversation, freeing up time for more worthwhile pursuits.”