Jacob favoured her with his usual nasty smile. “Hell, does anybody? ”

“You’re not a hologram, are you?” said Giles.

“Wouldn’t lower myself,” said Jacob. “I am one hundred percent ectoplasm, and proud of it. I can walk through walls on a good day, though mostly I don’t because it’s very disconcerting. What’s the matter, warrior; don’t they have ghosts in the future?”

“No,” said Giles. “We’re civilised.”

“Let’s get to the Sanctity,” I said. “If only because this conversation is starting to make my head hurt. Molly, Giles, stick close to me, and don’t kill anyone unless you feel you absolutely have to. Jacob, you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the netherworld,” said the old ghost, grinning unpleasantly.

I used the Merlin Glass to transport us to the corridor right outside the Sanctity. It seemed even a glass made by Merlin couldn’t break through Strange’s other-dimensional protective barriers. So we all stepped through the enlarged mirror into the corridor, and immediately found ourselves facing half a dozen men standing guard outside the doors. They were all big muscular types, who might as well have had the word thug tattooed on their low foreheads. There’s always a few, in every family. I blame bad toilet training. The guards moved quickly to block our way, scowling in their best intimidating manner. One actually flexed his muscles at us.

“No admittance,” the head thug said coldly. “The Patriarch is not to be disturbed.”

“What a pity,” I said. “Because I really feel like disturbing him. You don’t recognise me, do you?”

“No,” said the head thug flatly.

“How soon they forget,” murmured Molly.

“Don’t care, neither,” said the thug. “Doesn’t matter who you are. No admittance, no exceptions. Now piss off, or we’ll hurt you.”

“No one does decent threats anymore,” said Molly. “They just can’t be bothered to make the effort to be decent henchmen.”

“I really don’t have the patience for this,” I said. “Jacob, do you think you could . . .”

The ghost thrust his ancient grinning face forward, his eyes blazing, and all the thugs took one involuntary step back. Jacob drew his awful aspect around him, and the corridor was suddenly full of the presence of death and horror, and the cold, inescapable embrace of the grave. It was like waking up and finding a corpse in bed with you, like suddenly knowing when everyone you loved was going to die.

It was sometimes all too easy to forget what James really was: a dead man walking, only held together by an inhuman effort of will.