Amber led the way through the carnival until they came to the Hall of Mirrors. She stared at the door, the very memorable door with its shiny silver surface. When she was satisfied, she nodded.

“You sure about this?” Milo asked.

“Now is not the time for doubt,” she answered.

He shrugged.

Planting Jesper’s double doors firmly in her head, Amber took the brass key from her pocket and slid it into the lock. The dull metal door did its best to squirm into her thoughts, but she kept it out, and turned the key once, then twice, and with Milo’s hand on her shoulder she opened the mirrored door and stepped through.

The mayor’s drawing room. Colder than when they’d been there last. The lights were on, dimming the sky outside. The doors had shut behind them. Milo went to open them, but stopped. Footsteps and voices approached.

“Here they are,” they heard Jesper say. He sounded tired. “The troublemakers. When did they arrive?”

“Early this morning.” Novak. “Caught the big guy over on Broken Branch Road. The other one my officers nabbed as he was walking along Main Street without a care in the world.”

Milo opened the door a crack, and they peered through. Two men, one tall, the other tall and hulking, were on their knees with their hands cuffed behind them. The bigger guy was deformed – his head a misshapen lump, while the other was masked. Both were silent.

Chief Novak was standing at their backs while Jesper stood in front, gazing down at them.

“How many of you will we have to execute before the Shining Demon stops sending you into our quiet little town? Eh?” He looked up at Novak. “What’s the matter with them? Can’t they talk?”

“Neither of them do much more than grunt,” said Novak.

Jesper sighed. “The silent types, huh? We’ve seen plenty of their kind over the years.”

“Yes, we have,” said Novak. “But I wouldn’t get too close, sir. They heal fast.”

“Well, of course they do,” said Jesper. “They wouldn’t be any use to Astaroth otherwise. Weapons of choice?”

“Machete,” said Novak, then nodded to the smaller guy. “Butcher knife.”

“Always popular,” said Jesper. “Gentlemen, we have a zero-tolerance policy here in Desolation Hill for serial killers of both the living and undead variety. But you knew that. Everyone knows that your kind is just not welcome here. Chief Novak, please tell our guests what lies in store for them.”