The Palace of Glass (28 page)

“That could have gone better,” said Ashes, who'd joined them.

“They're just scared,” Isaac said.

“Of course they are scared,” Dex said. “No one stands up to the old Readers. No one ever has.”

“Is it true, what you said about your father?” Jen said.

Alice nodded. Dex hugged her.

“Oh, Alice,” she said. “I'm so sorry.”

“You know I'm with you,” Isaac said. “I can't go back to my master, not now. He probably thinks I'm dead.”

“The Most Favored . . .” Dex hesitated, her ever-present smile flickering. “I wish to say that she would never sacrifice me to the Ouroborean. But I am not certain. I have realized . . . how little I am certain of.”

“I'm staying with you,” Michael said. They all looked at him, including Jen.

“Why?” Jen said. “You barely know her!”

“Because she's right,” the boy said simply. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ventured a smile. “Shouldn't that be enough?”

Jen let out an exaggerated sigh. “Then I guess I have to stay as well. Someone has to take care of you.”

“Thank you,” Alice said. “All of you.”

“Girl!” said someone behind her.

Alice turned to find the woman dressed in bones looking down at her. She cut a large, impressive figure, with long dark hair bound back in a no-nonsense bun.

“I'm sorry,” Alice said again. “I know it's not enough, but—”

“Never mind that. You're really going to stand up to the old Readers?”

“I'm going to try,” Alice said.

“It's about damn time
someone
did,” the woman said. “They're a pack of nasty cowards, if you ask me. If there's anything I can do, just ask.”

“Oh!” Alice shook her head. “Thank you. I didn't think—”

“Goes for me too,” said the old mushroom man, edging
around the bone woman. “Never heard a Reader talk like you do.”

A half-dozen sprites yammered excited agreement, until the bone woman shushed them.

“I think most of the others will come around too,” she said. “If they don't, I'll tan their hides.”

“I don't want anyone to help if it's not of their own free will,” Alice said hastily.

“Right,” the woman said. “They'll decide to do it of their own free will, or I'll tan their hides.”

“And I'm going to talk to Pyros,” Flicker said, cutting in before Alice could pursue that argument. “Once he hears what happened, I think he'll agree it's safer for us to help you than do nothing.”

“Please don't think too badly of him,” Actinia said anxiously. “He just has to do what's best for our people.”

“I know,” Alice said. “And thank you.” She raised her voice. “Thank all of you!”

“Well,” Ashes said, from somewhere by her ankles. “It's a start.”

THE CIRCLE IS NOW COMPLETE

T
HERE WAS ONE MORE
thing she had to do.

Sitting at Mr. Wurms' table, after sending all the others away, Alice put one hand on the cover of
The Infinite Prison
. Ending had fetched it from its hiding place, deep in the library. Alice closed her eyes and let her awareness brush the edge of the spell, just lightly.

She found herself in a dark place, with no floor or walls or ceiling. Geryon stood in front of her, and beside her, and behind her, mirrored and replicated over and over. All the Geryons looked surprised to see her, the same brief moment of shock copied a million-fold. Then
their whiskered faces smoothed to the usual calm.

“Alice,” he said. “Have you come to get me out of here?”

“No,” Alice said, biting back the “sir.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then it
was
you. A clever trick, I have to admit. Where did you find it?”

“It's not important. I want you to answer a question.”

“What?” Geryon frowned. “Don't presume to dictate to me—”

“I'll presume whatever I like,” Alice snapped. “You're in no position to argue. Now answer the question.
Did you kill my father?
”

He crossed his arms, glaring daggers. Alice shrugged.

“Have it your way,” she said. “I'll be back. Eventually.”

She paused a few heartbeats, and the old Reader cracked.

“Wait!” he said. “Wait. Please.”

“Well?” she said.

“Yes,” Geryon said, a fragment of his composure returning. “You obviously know this already. I was there the night the
Gideon
sank, though it wasn't until afterward that I realized the importance of what had happened.”

“You didn't even
know,
” Alice said. “You killed him and you didn't even
know
what you were doing.”

“He was a human,” Geryon said. “Humans die.”

“We're human too.”

“No, we're not,” Geryon said. “We're different from them. You know that. If you left here, went back to one of their cities, would you be able to feel like you were a part of it? The same as the rest of them?”

“I . . .” Alice paused.

“You have power that no king or president ever dreamed of,” Geryon said. “You're confused, I understand. But—”

“Enough,” Alice said.

“Who put you up to this?” Geryon said. “Anaxomander? The Eddicant? Or—” He caught her eye and his face went pale. “No. It wasn't any of them, was it? It was
Ending
.”

“What if it was?” Alice said. “You've treated her just like your other slaves.”

“Oh, child. You have no idea what you've done, what powers you are dealing with.” Geryon shook his head. “She is a
labyrinthine
. You have to let me out of here. I will swear any oath that you care to name that I will take no retribution against you, I'll give you whatever you wish, but you have to let me out.”

“I don't have to do anything of the sort,” Alice said. “I
will
let you out, eventually. But there are some things I need to do first.

Geryon was getting frantic. “You can't trust Ending. You can't trust
any
of them. The labyrinthine lie as naturally as breathing—it's what they
are
. You think we've kept them bound all this time just to be cruel? If she gets what she wants, it won't just be the Readers who pay the price.”

“I don't know if I can trust Ending,” Alice said, shaking her head. “But I
know
I can't trust you.”

“Alice! You don't understand! Please—”

Alice opened her eyes and took her hand off the book, Geryon's pleading scream ringing in her ears.

She went back up to the house after saying good night to the others. It was actually only mid-afternoon, and the sun and snow of the outside world came as a shock after so long in the gloom of the library. The invisible servants made her roast beef and vegetable soup, and she had three helpings, along with a big mug of hot chocolate. Then she had a bath, soaking away the dirt and sweat and prodding her bruises.

When she was clean, she dressed in her nightshirt and brushed her hair. She patted the ancient, threadbare
rabbits in the window, pulled back the covers, and got into bed. Enough sun leaked past the window shade that it wasn't truly dark, but she could feel sleep tugging at her already.

“I'm going to tear it all down,” she whispered.

She dreamed of her father, smiling at her as he had so often in life, the smile that meant he loved her more than anything in the world. And she dreamed of a huge, cat-slitted silver eye, vast and alien, that somehow felt like home.

E
ND

I have run out of pets for the dedication, unless you count parakeets and goldfish. Instead, this time I thank all the hardworking cats of the world, who spend countless hours every day carefully training their humans.

First, I need to thank everyone who read my early drafts: Robyn Murphy, who met up with me at Phoenix Comic-Con to assure me I was on the right track; Cat Rambo, whose reading speed and critical eye practically count as superpowers; and Casey Blair, who managed to find time to help me in spite of her own insane schedule. All three are excellent writers, and my work is always better for their assistance.

Second, as always, my agent Seth Fishman (who doubles as a draft reader in his own right!) and everyone else at the Gernert Company: Will Roberts, Rebecca Gardner, and Andy Kifer. Also as usual, Caspian Dennis at Abner Stein keeps everything going on the UK side.

Third, my editor, Kathy Dawson, and her assistant, Claire Evans, who are insightful and endlessly patient with me.

Fourth, Alexander Jansson, whose covers and artwork continue to be one of the highlights of writing this series.

Fifth, all the excellent people at Penguin and publishers around the world who bring these words to physical (or digital) reality. In particular, this time I'd like to thank the people at Penguin Young Readers who set up visits and Skype sessions with classrooms and libraries across the country. (If you're a teacher or librarian, check them out: www.penguinclassroom.com.)

Finally, of course, my thanks to readers everywhere. I hope you're all having as much fun with Alice's adventures as I am.

is a self-proclaimed computer/fantasy/sci-fi geek. He graduated from Carnegie Mellon University with degrees in creative writing and computer science, worked in artificial intelligence research and as a programmer/writer for Microsoft, and is now a full-time fantasy writer. Django is the author of The Shadow Campaigns, an epic fantasy series for adults published by Roc (an imprint of Penguin), and The Forbidden Library, a classic fantasy series for young readers published by Kathy Dawson Books (an imprint of Penguin Young Readers Group).

Learn more at www.DjangoWexler.com, and follow Django on Facebook and Twitter
(@DjangoWexler).

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