The Shining Demon spoke to her, then, and she listened, and nodded, and said she understood. He walked away, and as he left the light in the hall faded. When he was gone, Amber looked round. Fool was gone, too. Only the Hound and Milo remained, and the Hound was dead.

She scooped Milo into her arms, and walked out the way she’d come. The castle laid itself open to her, and she took each turn with the conviction that she was going the right way.

But the warmth inside was fading. Each moment that passed took with it a little of her height, of her strength, of her horns. Their loss was an odd sensation. Even though she was returning to her normal demonic stature, she felt lessened, like this was the consolation trophy she’d been handed after letting the grand prize slip through her fingers.

She arrived back in the room she’d started in and her mood was already darkening. All of a sudden she was cold, and lost again, and unsure, and the doubts descended on her like spiders from the rafters.

She turned at a noise, and saw a creature in the darkness watching her. It made a sound, a two-syllable utterance that was almost like Amber’s name.

She frowned as it shuffled out from the shadows. Naked, its skin was flayed in places, pulled back off glistening muscle by black wires that pierced its flesh. Its belly was bloated, its fingernails missing, and its lower jaw had been detached. Clumsy attempts had been made to fix it back into place with wire and thread and hooks, so that now it hung there, like a gaping, impossibly wide mouth.

“Hello, Edgar,” she whispered.

At the mention of the name, tears sprang to the creature’s eyes and its face – what there was left of it – crumpled. It turned away from her, as if it was ashamed, and Amber walked on to the circle of fire that was still burning. On the ground before it were six glass vials. She laid Milo within the circle, and examined the vials. Each contained golden liquid.

Astaroth’s blood.

Despite Edgar Spurrier’s racking sobs from behind her, warmth exploded in her heart and she smiled, she laughed, and she held the vials close to her chest and closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

She had six vials. Six more opportunities to get bigger and stronger and more beautiful. The thought made her happy – happier than she’d been in a long, long time.

She pocketed the vials, very carefully, and stepped into the circle of fire. At her feet, Milo moaned, and she took him back to Desolation Hill, and left Bigmouth to his hell.

Chapter 59

IN THE MORNING, the town lay in ruins.