"Maybe," I said. "There's some research to be done. I totally understand if you want to get while the getting's good. But if you're willing, we could use your help."

"Research," Butters said. "What kind of research?"

I told him.

Butters chewed on his lip. "Is it… is anything going to try to kill me for doing it?"

"I don't think so," I said. "But I can't lie to you. These are some dangerous people. I can't predict everything they might do."

Butters nodded. "But… if you don't get this information, what happens?"

"It gets harder to stop them."

"And if you don't stop them, what happens?"

I put my fork down, suddenly not very hungry. "One of them gets phenomenal cosmic power, and all the living space he can take. I get killed. So will a lot of innocent people. And God only knows what someone could do with power like that over the long term."

Butters looked down at his pancakes.

I waited. Thomas said nothing. His appetite hadn't been affected, and the sound of his knife and fork on the plate was the only one in the kitchen.

"This is bigger than me," he said finally. "It's bigger than polka, even. So I guess I'll help."

I smiled at him. "Appreciate it."

Thomas looked up, studying Butters speculatively. "Yeah?"

Butters nodded, and grimaced. "If I walk away when I know I could lend a hand… I'm not sure I could live with that. I mean, if you were asking me to shoot somebody or something, I'd head for the hills. But research is different. I can do research."

I rose and clapped Butters gently on the shoulder. "Thomas will fill you in."

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I have to figure out how to call up the Erlking," I said.

"Is that why everyone wanted that book?"

"Apparently."

"But you had it. Heck, you read it."

I rubbed at my eyes. "Yeah. I know. But I didn't know exactly what I was looking for."

Butters nodded. "Frustrating, huh."

"Just a bit."

"It's too bad you don't have a photographic memory," Butters said. "I knew a guy in college with one of those, the bastard. He could just look at a page, and then read it back to himself in his head a week later."

A thought struck me hard, and I felt my limbs twitch with sudden excitement. "What did you say?"

"Uh. You don't have a photographic memory?" Butters asked.

" Yes," I said. "Butters, you are a genius."

"I am," he said. Then his brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I am?"

"Brilliant," I said. "Certifiably."

"Oh. Good."

I rose and started gathering my things. "Where is that backpack I had you wear?"

"Living room," Butters said. "Why?"