Glo settled her account, and we left the store.
“It’s hard to believe some of these things are real,” I said. “Where does she get extract of dragon tail?”
“I asked her that one time and she said Slovakia.”
It had stopped raining but the sky was overcast and the air was unseasonably cool. I was wearing a sweatshirt over my jeans and T-shirt. Glo was wearing a bright pink fluffy rabbit fur jacket, her usual motorcycle boots, black tights, and a short black tunic. We jumped in my car, buckled ourselves in, and headed for the lighthouse.
“You’re driving super slow,” Glo said. “The car behind us isn’t happy.”
“How do you know he’s not happy?”
“He’s honking his horn.”
I blew out a sigh. “I didn’t notice. I’m distracted. I don’t want to get to the lighthouse. I’d like to get onto the highway and not stop until I reach California.”
“I’m game for California. I’m not crazy about this gig, either. What if my undo spell doesn’t work and Martin Ammon tears me to shreds?”
“That would be a bummer.”
“No kidding.”
I’d been driving at a snail’s pace, but I still managed to reach Derby Street.
“I suppose I should park,” I said.
“Yeah,” Glo said, gathering her things together. “Showtime.”
We left the car and walked the length of the pier to the lighthouse. Two men in suits stood midway. I nodded to them, and they nodded back.
“Freaking creepy,” Glo said.
Hardly anyone ever visited the lighthouse. It didn’t look historic or interesting, and there were no signs to indicate that it was open to the public, so the public never showed up.
I pushed the door open and flipped the light on. Nobody home. We were ten minutes early. A text message from Diesel came in on my phone. Conduct the ceremony on the second floor by the beacon. I’m in place.
The lighthouse floor was cement, as were the walls. Hidden behind the spiral staircase was a door. I opened the door and saw circuit breakers and electrical feeds crammed into a small closet. The floor was wood planking. Trapdoor, I thought.
We climbed the spiral stairs. Glo set Broom aside by the door leading to the balcony and then got busy setting up her workstation. She turned Ripple’s to the appropriate page and placed the jar next to the book of spells.
“It seems bare,” Glo said. “I should have brought a candle or some flowers.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “It’s not like it’s a dinner party.”
I left Glo in the beacon room, and I went downstairs to wait for Rutherford and Ammon. They arrived precisely on time, both dressed in black with red ties. I supposed this was the standard Mammon wardrobe. Ammon’s eyes were glazed, and he looked totally tranquilized.
“Is he okay?” I asked Rutherford. “He’s a little zoned out.”
“Mr. Ammon? Zoned out? No, no, he’s just relaxing,” Rutherford said.
“Glo needs to do this upstairs where there’s less interference from the earthly stuff that, um, interferes.”
Rutherford looked at the spiral staircase, gauging if he could get Ammon to climb it.
“It would be more convenient to perform the ceremony down here,” Rutherford said.
“Glo can’t guarantee it will work if Mr. Ammon’s feet are on terra firma.”
We led Ammon to the staircase and eased him up step-by-step. I had no clue what Rutherford had given Ammon, but I was thinking I wouldn’t mind having some. My palms were sweating, and my heart was skipping beats. I was terrified that Ammon would wake up and go into mad-dog mode or worse. What if he actually became Mammon? Crap on a cracker!