Thomas and Butters both stared at me, expressions apprehensive.

"Maybe it's the cloak," Bob suggested brightly. "Harry, do you feel any more judgmental and self-righteous than you did this morning?"

I took a slow and deep breath. "Sorry," I said. "Sorry. That came out kinda harsh."

"Maybe a little," Butters said, his voice all but a whisper.

I rubbed at my face and glanced at the battery-powered clock on the wall of Murphy's kitchen. "Okay. Sundown's in just over an hour. I have to be ready to call up the Erlking by then."

"Um," Thomas said. "Harry, if it's the Erlking's presence that's going to attract all of these old spirits to their old tools and stuff, then won't it do the same thing no matter who calls him up?"

"Yeah," I said. "Unless the one who calls him traps him in a circle to contain his power and leaves him there."

Bob made a spluttering sound. "Harry, that's a dangerous proposition. No, scratch that, it's an insane proposition. Even assuming you have the will to trap something like the Erlking in a circle, and even if you keep him there all night, he is not going to let that kind of insult go. He'll come back the next night and kill you. If you're lucky."

"I can worry about that after I've done it," I said.

"Wait," Butters said. "Wait, wait. I mean, will it really matter? These guys don't have the bad magic book, right? Without that book, all they can do is call up the spirits. They can't, you know, eat them. Right?"

"We can't assume that they don't have it," I said. "Grevane might have found it."

"But the other two couldn't, right?" Butters said.

"Even if they haven't, they'll still be there," I said. "They can't afford to assume that their rivals haven't gotten the book. So they're going to show up with everything they have to try to prevent one of the others from going through with the ritual."

"Why?" Butters asked.

"Because they hate each other," I said. "And if one of them goes all godly, he's going to enjoy crushing the others. It will probably be the first thing he does."

"Oh," Butters said.

"That's why I need you to do something for me, Thomas."

My brother nodded. "Name it."

I grabbed a blank piece of paper and a pencil and started writing. "This is a note. I want you to take it down to the address I'm writing down and get it to the Wardens."

"I'm not going anywhere close to the Wardens," Thomas said.

"You don't have to," I said. "They're at a hotel. You'll leave it at the desk and ask the clerk to take it to them. Then clear out fast."

"Are they going to trust a note?" Thomas asked, skeptical.