“That doesn't sound terribly clever to me.”
“Said the boy who bought bad weed at age twenty-four.”
“I didn't die, though. Not exactly, anyway.”
“I'll let you into a secret, shall I?” Jasfoup leaned forward and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Nobody does.” He resumed his nonchalant stance and waved away Dill's incredulity. “There's only so much to go round. God might be infinite but souls get re-used all the time. That's the whole point of bathing in the Styx. Wash away the memories of the old life.” His voice faded and he stared into the middle distance.”
“And?” Dill reached to the demon's arm but Jasfoup jerked back into motion.
“I'm sorry. I have to go.”