Just before she planned to leave for the treasure hold to write more fortunes, Pinhead and four Ugloids broke into her room without knocking.

“He wants you on deck,” Pinhead said. “He wants you on deck now.”

This wasn’t unusual. The McGill called for people on a whim, as if all the clocks in Everlost were set by his personal schedule. This was the first time, however, that Pinhead had barged in without as much as knocking.

“What does he want?”

“You,” was all Pinhead said, and although he had been helpful to her in the past, he offered no hint of an explanation, not a wink, not a grin. “You’d better not keep him waiting.”

When Allie came to the throne deck, the McGill sat there, his claws clenched together, the look in his terrible eyes more terrible than usual. Next to the McGill stood a large Afterlight Allie hadn’t seen for a while. The one dressed in that ridiculous wrestler’s outfit.

“Good evening” the McGill said.

“You wanted to see me?” said Allie.

“Yes. I would like to know steps eight through twelve.”

“Finish step seven,” Allie said, “and then I’ll let you know step eight.” Allie had really come up with a good one for step seven. As the McGill was so fond of bullying people around, Allie decided that the seventh step would be a seventy-two-hour vow of silence. So far the McGill couldn’t even make twenty-four. “You just spoke,” she said. “I guess you’ll have to start all over again.”

The McGill motioned to the wrestler kid. “Piledriver, you can bring it out now.”

Piledriver dutifully went into a side room, and came back rolling a barrel that he set in the center of the room.

“Are you putting me in there?” Allie asked. “Is that it? If you do you’ll never know the last four steps.”

The McGill nodded to Piledriver again, and he pried open the barrel. It was full of liquid—but there was also something else in the barrel—something that glowed—and once the lid was off, it rose out, dripping in slimy pickle juice. The moment Allie saw who it was, she knew she was in serious, serious trouble. It was the Haunter.

“You!” said the Haunter, the moment he saw Allie.

The McGill stood up. “I am the one who brought you here,” the McGill told the Haunter. “You will answer my questions.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll seal you back in that barrel.”

The Haunter held up his hand, and various loose objects began to fly around the room, striking the McGill.

“Stop that, or your next stop is the center of the Earth!” the McGill roared. “Your skill at moving objects does not impress me, nor does it bother me. I bested you before, and if you fight me, I’ll do it again—and this time I’ll show no mercy.” Slowly the flying objects fell to the ground. “Good. Now you will answer my questions.”

The Haunter looked at him with hatred so strong it could have warped time. “What do you want to know?”