The Magister indulged in one of his last remaining vices: watching The Price Is Right on a little portable TV he kept hidden under some rugs in the corner of the sacred chamber. He always watched with the sound off, so he’d become pretty good at reading lips. Some dunce in a Hawaiian shirt bid way too high for a Barcalounger, not unlike his. The Magister shook his head and his back spasmed.

Destroy the world soon, Lord Abaddon, and rid me of this accursed flesh.

They were coming up on the big showcase at the end of the show when his phone rang. He took it out, already angry at whoever it was. “Hello? Who is this? I’m busy.”

A quiet voice on the other end of the line said, “It’s me. Coral Snake.”

“Who?”

The Magister heard a sigh. “Carol.”

His mood brightened infinitesimally. “Carol. How nice to hear from you. Any news from our Caleximus friends?”

“Yes. They got the girl.”

“What girl?”

“Coop’s girl.”

“Who’s Coops?”

There was a short pause before Carol said, “Craig. They got Craig’s girl and they’re holding her until he brings them the box.”

The Magister pumped his fist in the air, which just made his back hurt again. “Excellent. Now all we have to do is get the girl and he’ll bring the box straight to us.”

“Except I don’t know where she is.”

“What?” said the Magister, his mood going quickly back to miserable.

“They sent me for fries and then drove off without me.”

“I don’t want to hear about fries. All I want to know is where’s the girl?”

“That’s what I’m telling you. I don’t know. She’s not at the site. But here’s the thing. Steve made a deal with Coop—Craig—to bring him the box in forty-eight hours.”

“Priest Steve again?” The Magister thought for a minute. “Can you find out where they’ll make the exchange?”

“I’m sure I can, but not until right before it happens.”

The Magister nodded, grim wheels turning grimly in his head. “That’s fine. Forty-eight hours will give us plenty of time to get ready. You did a good job, Carol.”

Tommy sighed. “My name’s not . . . Forget it. And we still have a deal when the end comes. You’re taking me with you, right?”

The Magister used his silkiest voice. “Lord Abaddon will reward you with riches beyond your wildest dreams.”

“Cool.”

“Cool indeed. Call me as soon as you hear anything.”

“I will. Bye.”

The Magister coughed. “Is that how we say good-bye?”

“Sorry. Good-bye, Dark High Magister.”

“Good girl, Carol.”

The Magister hung up and dialed another number. Adept Six answered.

“Yes, Magister?”

“Do we have a trusted crew in the restaurant?”

“Not now, I’m afraid. There are a few unbelievers. We’ll have a full crew in the morning.”

The Magister scratched his ear, pondering the situation. “Good. When they come in, tell them to thaw out Fluffy.”