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Basically, it’s saying that God made everything and everything is just great.

This thing is a damn Disney nightmare.

God made everything and everything is great.

Only . . . God didn’t make everything. The angels built most of the universe. Is that important?

One more time with the lyrics.

Fuck.

I am finally and truly going to murder Samael. None of this makes sense. Him. His stupid song. Looking into my sodden heart. It’s all a waste of time. It’s all infuriating.

And a little light goes on in my head.

Everything Samael said, every bit of it, every stupid clue, is connected to pissing me off. And if this mess is connected, it means that everything else is connected too.

Thank you, Samael, you smart-ass sage.

I hope. But I don’t have time to worry about it for another hour.

I take a bite of the fritter and get on the bike.

Getting to Janet’s place through the afternoon traffic is slow and frustrating. I want to ditch the Hog and go to their place straight through a shadow. But I’ve already taken too many chances lately. I let Gentry’s neighbors see me shadow walk. Maybe the cops at Thivierge’s place. Pretty much everyone in the Lodge. As anxious as I am to get to Janet, I have to think things through better and not peg the dial at 100 all the time. They’re not going to listen if I show up at their apartment jabbering like an ape. I have to slow down and think. Janet isn’t going to like what I have to say, so I have to go in the right way.

When I get to their place I take a breath before pressing the buzzer.

Janet’s voice comes through the door speaker a moment later.

“Hello?”

“Janet, it’s Stark. I know you don’t want to see me right now, but please listen. I think you’re in danger. Let me explain. After that, if you don’t want to see me, I’m gone for good.”

They don’t say anything, but the lock buzzes and I go in.

The door is open when I get to their apartment. Janet stands all the way across the room scowling and with their arms folded. Not a promising beginning.

They say, “Talk fast. I have things to do.”

I close the door and stay where I am, hoping the distance might relax her a little.

“Since I’ve been involved with the Lodge, I’ve been ambushed by ghosts twice. I’m only standing here now because a friend warned me about a third attack. One big enough that I might not have been able to get out of it. You remember how scary that first attack was? Imagine that times ten.”

They shift their stance a little, like they’re at least listening.

“I’m sorry about all that and I’m happy you’re safe, but what does it have to do with me?”

“All of the recent Stay Below manifestations have been the same. A tiny spot of light. A Thurl opens and turns sort of liquid. There’s singing. The ghosts appear and then they attack.”

“I know all of that. What’s your point?”

“The manifestations in Little Cairo go exactly the same way. I’ve seen a lot of spooks in my life. But these ones come and go in very specific patterns.”

They look down, then back at me.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. So, get to the point or leave now.”

I take a step closer and they don’t pull back. Progress.