“This is Lameh,” he said. “She’s a guardian.” That was another kind of angel, the kind that spends a lifetime with a human and records everything he or she does and says and thinks, then advocates like me use the information they’ve collected to defend the soul at judgement.

“Hello, Lameh,” I said.

“She doesn’t really talk any more,” Temuel said. “Not out loud, anyway. She’s very old.”

Which was an odd thing to say. I’d never heard anyone mention a guardian angel’s age.

“But she’s going to help you. She knows a lot, and she’s going to share it with you.”

“Knows a lot about what?”

“About Hell, of course.” Temuel did something, and suddenly the spark was smoldering on the end of his index finger. “You need to know much more than you do, or you’re going to be spotted as soon as you get there.” His face grew stern. “This isn’t a game, Bobby.”

“I know, I know!” But I couldn’t help wondering why this Lameh had so much information about Hell—not the normal college major for a guardian angel. Before I could think of a discreet way to ask, the archangel leaned forward and put his finger to my ear and something jumped into my head. That’s the only way I can describe it. It was just as odd as it sounds. Then Temuel took me by the arm and steered me back out of the Zipper again before closing the fiery, midair hole behind us.

“Now go home, Bobby,” my boss said. “Go to sleep and Lameh will do the rest. She’ll tell you what you need to know, then take you where you need to be.”

I knew the feeling of a guardian passing me information, so I wasn’t too upset about having something foreign in my thoughts, but I still had questions for Temuel. He, on the other hand, seemed to be finished with the conversation and was climbing the stairs that led out of the plaza. I called to him but he didn’t reply. Halfway up he broke into a trot, then a run, as if he were exactly the twelve-year-old kid he looked to be.

“Call me when you get back!” the archangel shouted as he melted into the shadows of the surrounding buildings.

When I got to the Walker house, I didn’t bother to check in with G-Man, but just climbed in through one of the unlocked windows and made my way upstairs. The sheet was still there from earlier in the day, and I took it with me as I slid under the bed, then rolled myself in it so it was under me and over me, covering my face and everything else. It was hard to ignore the fact that it was pretty much exactly like the shrouds people get buried in.