The Palace of Glass (24 page)

“Master Vin won't let me have a cat,” she said, letting Ashes go. “What's your name? I was going to name my cat Precious.”

“Ashes. And I'm not a cat, I'm a half-cat.”

Aggrieved, he walked in circles a few times, then sat down in front of Jen to indicate that he'd suffer being petted, but only on his own terms. He closed his eyes and sighed as she scratched him behind the ears. Alice turned away from the pair of them and went to the other end of the table, where Michael sat opposite Dex and Isaac.

“Brother Isaac is an old friend of Sister Alice's,” Dex was saying. “He's here to help us work things out.”

“Did your master send you to negotiate?” Michael said.

“That's not important right now,” Isaac said. “What matters is that we can all fight each other, the way the masters want us to, or we can work something out like reasonable people.”

Michael glanced at Alice. He spoke quietly enough that Jen wouldn't hear. “Speaking as the ones who would probably
lose
a fight, we can hardly object to that. But I notice Ellen and Garret aren't here yet.”

He has a way of getting right to the heart of things, doesn't he?
“I've left them for last,” Alice said. “If the rest of us all agree, it might make things easier.”

Michael nodded. “Well, you've got my support, for what it's worth. And I think your cat has distracted Jen.”

Ashes, Alice noted, had consented to receiving a belly rub.

“All right,” Alice said. “I'll bring Ellen and Garret through.”

REVELATION

A
QUICK PINCH OF
THE
fabric brought Ellen and Garret to Mr. Wurms' table. Ellen was pressed tight against Garret's side, their fingers interlocked. When they saw the others waiting for them, they stopped.

“Garret,” Alice said. “Ellen.”

“What's this?” Garret said. He stepped forward, away from Ellen. “A tea party?”

“We've decided we'd rather talk about things than fight amongst ourselves,” Alice said. “We were hoping you would join us.”

“What's there to talk about?” Garret said.

“That's what I'm hoping to find out,” Alice said. “But you have to sit at the table.”

“Listen to Sister Alice,” Dex said. “We should not have to hurt one another just because our masters disagree.”

“Talking can't hurt,” said Michael.

“Hmph,” Jen said again. It seemed to be her favorite expression. She tickled Ashes' belly. “I mean. We can always start the fight afterward.”

“It's too bad we're not putting it to a
vote,
” Garret said. “In case you've forgotten, our masters sent us here to do a job, and we were specifically told that Alice might be under the influence of the monster. What makes the rest of you think this is a good idea?”

“Garret, maybe we should—” Ellen began.

“Don't
you
start.” Garret looked at the assembled apprentices. “Is this what happened in Esau's fortress after I was . . . inconvenienced? This girl just took over?”

“Sister Alice saved us,” Dex said. “None of us would have escaped alive if not for her.”

“She's right,” Isaac said.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Garret said. “I don't recall anyone inviting you.”

“Alice needed my help,” Isaac said.

“Very touching. You know, I have had about enough of this. Ellen, let's get things started.”

Ellen stepped closer to Garret's side, her halo dim and
flickering. “Dex is right, she
did
save us back in the labyrinth. I owe her.”

“
You
owe her,” Garret said. His face grew dark with rage. “She didn't do anything to save
me
.”

“I would have,” Alice said, “if I could.”

“Just sit down,” Ellen said. “What can it hurt to try?”

“Shut
up
!” Garret said. “I said that's
enough
!” He put his hand between Ellen's shoulders and pushed, sending her stumbling toward Alice. “Destroy her already, Ellen.”

There was something in his voice that sounded familiar. A faint static buzz.

Dex said Garret joined them in the library, not before they arrived . . .

“I . . .” Ellen raised one hand, then looked back over her shoulder. “Garret?”

“No,” Alice said, stepping around the table to face him directly. “You're not really Garret, are you?”

“What are you talking about?” Garret said.

“The real Garret could be a jerk, but he wasn't a bad person,” Alice said. “And he cared about Ellen.”

Garret narrowed his eyes. “How would
you
know?”

“I have to say I think Sister Alice is correct.” Dex got to
her feet. “The Brother Garret who retrieved my arm from the crocodile would not be so callous.”

“The Garret
I
knew,” Isaac said, “wouldn't shout at someone else to fight for him. He'd do it himself.”

“That can't be right,” Ellen said. “It's him, I know it is. None of you understand him—”

“I'm sorry,” Alice said. “But I think Garret is dead. This is . . . something else.”

She tugged on her threads, calling a swarmer into her and pulling on Spike's power. Winding up like a major league pitcher, she winged the little creature snout-first, right at Garret's shoulder.

A human would have at least flinched—the swarmer's beaks were sharp, and getting impaled by one was like having a nail hammered into you. But when the little creature hit, it stuck and hung there quivering, like an arrow shot into a target. Garret didn't move a muscle, as though he were carved from stone.

“Well,” he said, after a moment. “Enough
is
enough.”

Garret reached up and grabbed the swarmer. It
melted
in his hand, vanishing as though it had been sucked into his palm. Alice gasped. Whenever one of her creatures died, she felt it as a physical pain, like a needle in her
chest, but this was ten times worse. It felt like a fraction of her energy, of her
life,
had been torn away.

Garret grinned. His eyes were black from edge to edge.

“Stay away!” Alice shouted as the Garret-thing advanced on her. She backpedaled, moving to put the table between her and whatever creature was wearing Garret's skin. The other apprentices followed suit, spreading out around the clear space. Ashes was a gray streak, vanishing among the shelves.

Only Ellen didn't move. She stood directly in the thing's path, halo flickering.

“It's not true,” she said. “It's not true, is it? I thought you were dead, and you came back.” Her eyes were full of tears, and her voice cracked. “You wouldn't lie about that, would you?”

“Ellen!” Alice shouted, frantically wrapping herself in her threads.

Garret came forward another step, until he and Ellen were face-to-face.

“You wouldn't hurt me, would you?” Ellen said.

She leaned in, standing on tiptoe, to kiss him. The Garret-thing's hand came up, fast as a snake, and grabbed her by the front of her shirt. Ellen's eyes went wide as he lifted her without apparent effort.

“Please,” she said, eyes streaming with tears. “Please.”

He tilted his head, his movements suddenly utterly inhuman. Ellen tried to scream but couldn't find the breath. Something began to flow between them, a stream of brilliant light bursting from Ellen's eyes and mouth, crossing the few inches to flow into the dark void that lurked under the Garret-thing's eyes. It was
life,
swirling away like water down a bathtub drain.

The stream lasted only a few moments, and then Ellen slumped. Garret tossed her aside like a rag, and she landed on her back on the dusty floor. Thick white smoke rose from her eyes and mouth, as though something inside her had burned to a crisp.

“Like I said.” The Garret-thing's voice had a strange buzz to it now, like radio static. He reached into Ellen's pocket and pulled out the green book she'd shown Alice. His grip tightened, and he ripped it in half, leather cover and all. “Let's get things started.”

Dex was the first to react. Her caryatid armor flashed into being around her, and silver swords dropped into her hands. Isaac, standing beside her, raised one arm and sent out a stream of fire. Garret made no effort to avoid it, and Alice could see his hair burning, the fire spreading to his cloak. But when Dex came at him, sword swinging
at his neck, he moved as though the flames didn't bother him at all. His hand closed around her blade. The bright silver warped and vanished, sucked away inside him. His other hand grabbed her wrist, wrenching her close to him.

“Dex!” Alice shouted.

Dex's second sword bit into his waist, but that bothered him no more than the swarmer had. He grabbed Dex by the chin, and her silver mask melted away. Before the deadly streams of energy could form, though, Spike slammed into Garret at full tilt, knocking the two of them apart. One of his horns sank six inches into Garret's chest, and the dinosaur's momentum picked the boy up and carried him into a nearby shelf, which toppled in a thunder of dust and falling books.

“Are you all right?” Alice said, falling to her knees. Dex nodded, coughing, the rest of her silver armor fading away.

“I am, Sister Alice,” she managed, “but—what's wrong?”

Alice doubled over, as though she'd been kicked in the stomach, and slapped one hand over her mouth to keep from throwing up. Spike had died—not just died, been snuffed out like a candle, all at once—and the same weird
suction had taken a chunk of her energy. Her fingers and toes prickled, as though she'd dunked them in ice water, and her vision went gray at the edges.

“Sister Alice!” Dex struggled to her feet, pulling Alice with her. “Get up!”

Isaac had his eyes closed, and Alice could hear just the edge of the Siren's melody, the hypnotic song directed into the cloud of dust. Jen had her bird hovering over her head, and Michael stood at the center of a swarm of tiny metal shards, buzzing around him like silver bees.

“It's not working,” Isaac muttered. “It feels like there's nothing there at all.”

Garret was up, his cape shredded and burning, hair askew, bloodless cuts and tears all over from Spike's horns and Dex's sword. His grin was still there, but his eyes were just empty holes.

“Now!” Jen shouted. Her hawk dove, tearing its claws into Garret's face. Michael pointed, and the silver shards zipped toward Garret in a single stream, slashing at him and impaling him like the spines of a porcupine. Isaac, giving up on the Siren, sent a blizzard of sharp-edged ice fragments blasting into the creature's face.

The hawk snapped its beak at him, coming away with a flapping, torn piece of
something
, like a ripped cloth.
Garret's hand shot up, grabbing the bird by the throat, and it screeched in protest. Then it melted, losing focus and flowing into Garret's hand like colored smoke. Jen gave a choking cry; her eyes rolled up and she collapsed, Michael only just catching her before her head hit the flagstones. Isaac backed away, letting the icy wind fade for a moment, and Alice gasped.

Half of Garret's face was gone, torn away by the hawk, and the rest dangled in strips and flaps. There was no blood—it was as though he'd been wearing a rubber mask, and beneath it was only blank, black nothingness. His clothes were falling away, revealing more of the same, as though inside the outer shell that looked like Garret was a hole in the world, a void in the shape of a man.

“If at first you don't succeed,” the creature said, the half of its mouth that was left twisting horribly, “then you die.”

“Alice?” Isaac said. “Any ideas?”

“Run,” Alice said. “Back into the aisles. Isaac, help Michael with Jen.”

“But—”

“I'll be right behind you, don't worry,” Alice said. “Go!”

They did as they were told. Between them, Isaac and Michael lifted Jen, her head lolling, and hustled her away,
with Dex following behind. Alice backed up to the table as the creature advanced.

Think. Think! Magic doesn't seem to work; it swallowed the fire and the ice without a problem. It sucks up our creatures.
Spike had at least
stunned
it, though.
So maybe . . .

Alice grabbed for Spike's thread again, but it was as though the creature's touch had coated the thread in oil. She had to bear down in order to wrap it around herself, strength flowing into her limbs. As the Garret-thing got closer, she bent and picked up one of Mr. Wurms' benches, a solid length of wood a good eight feet long. She stepped clear of the table, wound up, and swung the bench at his head.

Without Spike, she couldn't even have lifted it, but with him, the wood whistled through the air like a baseball bat. Garret put his hand up to block, but as strong and fast as he was, he didn't have the weight, and Alice's impromptu club slammed him off his feet. He skidded along the floor in another cloud of dust, and before he'd come to a stop, Alice brought the bench down vertically, like a lumberjack splitting a log. The far end broke with a mighty
crack,
the blow tearing away most of Garret's scalp. Alice tried another swing, but this time Garret grabbed the splintered end of the bench and twisted, ripping it from her hands.