“Okay,” said the Ogre. Then he stepped forward, then took another step, pushing himself up against the bed frames . . . then forced himself through, like fudge pushed through a screen. For a moment, he stood there halfway in, halfway out with the brass and steel of the cage right in the middle of him. “Feels funny,” he said. Then he took one more step and he was outside the cage, leaving chocolate dripping from the frame.

“You did it!”

“Yes. Your turn now!”

But Mikey knew he couldn’t squeeze through any more than he could become a circus monkey.

That’s when Clarence woke up and panicked. He stood, the chair flying out from behind him and tumbling to the ground. “What? How did you? Don’t you . . .”

Mikey leaned as close as he could to Nick and whispered, “Don’t let him touch you.”

But Clarence seemed more afraid of the Ogre touching him. “Stand back! Stand back or I swear I’ll . . .” Then Clarence turned and ran back to the farmhouse.

“Go,” said Mikey. “Go and find Allie. You can do it. I know you can. Just follow the tracks.”

“Follow the tracks to Allie,” repeated the Ogre.

“Think about her,” Mikey told him. “Think about her as much as you can. It will help you to remember!”

“Allie,” said the Ogre. “We met in the dead forest. Only it wasn’t dead.” For a moment, there was more shape in the Ogre’s face, cheekbones and a firmer chin. A different shade of brown in his eyes. It lasted for only a moment, but then it was gone. “Find Allie,” the Ogre repeated. “Follow the tracks.”

The door of the farmhouse banged open again, and Clarence came out holding a sawed off shotgun—which was only sawed off in the living world. In Everlost the barrel was hard and solid and pointing right at the Ogre.

“Don’t move . . . don’t move or I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”

If the touch of a scar wraith could extinguish you, could the blast of the scar wraith’s shotgun do the job too? Mikey didn’t want to find out.

“Run, Nick!”

Nick did what he was told. He ran, and although Clarence aimed at him, he didn’t fire. In a moment the Chocolate Ogre had disappeared into the night.

“Damn it all to purgatory!” shouted Clarence and aimed the shotgun at Mikey, who put his hands up.

“If you shoot me, you’ll never know.”

“Never know what?”

“Everything,” Mikey said. “All the things you want to know.”

Slowly Clarence lowered the weapon. “Tell me,” he said. Then he went to get the toppled chair, set it upright and sat down again, laying the half-dead shotgun across his lap. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” said Mikey. “What do you want to know?”