It was still alive, though, and its glowing eyes sent short bursts of orange light across the lawn, blasting smoking craters from the ground and setting fire to the trees. Alice couldn’t see any of the other apprentices, until a pair of steel blades flashed through the air and struck the sunhawk in the throat. This seemed to irritate without causing much damage, and Alice saw the small figure of Michael running full-tilt across the lawn. He dove into a hole just as the beams of fire licked out.
Jen circled overhead, still in hawk form. Alice wrapped threads around herself for strength and toughness, then sprang out of her hiding place, running for the spot where Michael had taken shelter. The sunhawk shrieked, and Alice dove to the left, to avoid a blast of flame. She rolled, jumped, and skidded down the crater wall, dislodging a small avalanche of dirt.
Michael was pressed against the side, his normally well-coiffed hair wild and glasses slightly askew. He sounded as calm as ever, though obviously relieved to see Alice.
“You made it.”
“Somehow,” Alice said. “Is everyone okay?”
Michael swallowed. “Some of the library creatures got caught in the open. I didn’t see what happened.”
Alice remembered the ant-like specks, vanishing into the orange glow. She gritted her teeth. “What about Isaac and the others?”
“Dex took Isaac into the trees,” Michael said. “Jen’s still up there. I’ve been trying to stop this thing, but I can’t hit it hard enough.”
“Can you get it in the eyes?” Alice said.
Michael shook his head. “Not unless I get a lot closer.” He looked sheepish. “I’m not as good a shot as I ought to be.”
“I’ll draw its attention, then,” Alice said. “That should get you close enough.”
“All right.” Michael straightened his glasses, hand shaking only a little. He looked at once both very grown-up and very young. “I’ll try.”
Here goes nothing. Alice scrabbled in the dirt until she found a good-sized stone. It wasn’t one of Dex’s spears, but it would do. I don’t need to hurt the thing, just annoy it. She peeked over the lip of the crater, then pulled herself over, bare feet sliding in the warm earth. The sunhawk was looking up toward Jen, which gave Alice a moment to wind up and whip the stone at it as hard as she could.
This time, she managed to hit it, the rock thunking off the side of its skull. The sunhawk’s head snapped around, orange rays reaching out for Alice, but she was already moving. Running with Spike’s strength had taken a long time to get used to; she took huge, loping strides, almost jumping over the ground, landing hard enough to sink into the grass before pushing off again. It made her fast, faster than a galloping horse. Now she tore across the lawn in a curving path, outrunning the line of flames that blossomed behind her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael scrambling forward. Alice turned her next jump into a dive, landing in another crater and letting the flames pass overhead. She came up with two more rocks and hit the sunhawk, then started running again, drawing its attention back the way she’d come. Ahead, she saw Michael concentrating, a dozen shining blades hovering in the air around his head. As the bird turned to face him, the flying knives shot forward with a hum. They struck home, biting into the thing’s eyes, and there was an explosion of light and flame.
Michael shouted in triumph. Alice started to cheer with him, but the sound died on her lips. Michael had half turned, looking for her, and behind him the sunhawk was still moving. Its great head came forward, its blackened eye sockets trailing smoke, its huge, curved beak open wide.
Spike gave Alice strength, but even that strength had limits. She was moving the wrong way, away from Michael, and she had a great deal of momentum. She planted one foot, trying to stop, but that only turned her run into a slide, tearing up a strip of grass. Michael looked back toward the sunhawk, his eyes going wide as it lunged. A scream tore free of Alice’s throat—
And a streak of brown and white hit Michael in the side, just as the massive beak snapped closed. The boy was thrown to the ground by the impact, sprawling in the dirt just in front of the sunhawk. Alice recognized Jen, still in bird form, trapped in the sunhawk’s beak. The monster shook her wildly, like a cat with a captive mouse, then snapped its head sideways and hurled her against the half-shattered wall of the house. The bedraggled ball of feathers hit the stone and fell limply to the earth.
“Jen!” Alice screamed.
She ran directly at the sunhawk. Unable to see or use its beams of fire, it snapped wildly, missing her by yards. She jumped, landing high on the creature’s chest, clutching its soft belly-feathers in both hands. It twisted beneath her, but she was able to climb higher, getting her arms around its throat. As it reared up in panic, Alice broke its neck with a quick twist, as though it were a chicken in a farmyard. She jumped free as the sunhawk collapsed, hurrying over to where Jen had fallen.
Michael was already there. Jen was back in her human form, lying on her side in the dirt. There was no blood on her, no obvious wounds, but she wasn’t moving. Alice fell to her knees beside her, hands raised, not sure what to do.
Breathing. Is she still breathing? She looked hard, and was able to convince herself that there was still a slight rise and fall to Jen’s chest. There was so much she still didn’t know about Reader powers—Jen had been hurt while she was in another form, and Alice knew from experience that meant pain when you changed back, but what would happen if you almost died?
“I . . .” Michael’s glasses were gone. Without them, he looked like a different person, wild-eyed and frantic. “Alice—”
“We’ll take her to the library,” Alice said. “Magda’s there, and Ending. They’ll know what to do.”
As she passed into the library through the narrow bronze door, Alice looked over her shoulder at Geryon’s house. It was still ablaze, and more of the roof had collapsed. Flames glowed through the first-floor windows.
Inside, the library seemed endless, bookshelves standing in serried ranks like soldiers at a review. The appearance of solidity and changelessness was a lie, Alice knew. For all that the shelves were covered in dust and cobwebs, the master of the labyrinth could reshape them to her whim, connecting one place to another with a thought. That master was Ending, Geryon’s labyrinthine, although thanks to Alice’s connection with the Dragon, Alice still shared some of those same powers.
Today, Ending had created a large clear space around the door where the dazed refugees could spread out. Most of those who’d made it inside were sitting in small groups, but part of the crowd was pressed close to the door, trying to get back out. In their way stood Coryptus, the old Enoki, and Flicker. Flicker was a fire-sprite who’d shared Alice’s journey to the Palace of Glass and the fight against the Ouroborean that had followed. He looked mostly human, a slim boy of about her age dressed only in ragged shorts, with eyes that glowed a deep red from edge to edge and long hair whose color constantly flowed and shifted, as though it were a window onto living flame.
“You’ve got to stay put,” Coryptus said to a wailing sprite with skin the color of a cloudless sky. “And that’s that.”
“But Selys is still out there!” the sprite said, eyes dripping huge, greenish tears. “She could be hurt!”
“Alice and the others are fighting,” Flicker said. He had his black spear held horizontally, blocking the doorway. “They’ll protect everyone they can, and the more people who stay here, the easier that’ll be.”
When Alice touched Flicker’s shoulder, his skin was as warm as a rock left in the sun. He glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened.
“Alice! Are you—”
“You can let them out,” Alice said. “The danger’s past, for now.” She raised her voice. “See if you can round up anyone who hid in the forests! Bring them here, where it’s safe.”
Coryptus and Flicker stepped aside, and the crowd of nervous
creatures surged through the doorway, shouting the names of friends or loved ones. They’re not all going to find who they’re looking for, Alice thought with a sick nausea. Some of the refugees were probably injured; others had disappeared altogether in the sunhawk’s fires.
When the door was clear, Alice went back into the anteroom, where Michael waited with Jen. They lifted her together and carried her inside.
“We need Magda,” Alice said to Coryptus.
The old man pointed wordlessly. Alice and Michael carried their unconscious burden in the direction he indicated, and Flicker trailed nervously behind.
Magda had made an impromptu bed for Soranna out of blankets taken from the house, and sat beside her with a bowl of something steaming. Emma waited nearby, patiently holding a basin. When the bone witch saw Jen, she jumped to her feet, and her bone cloak animated with a clatter, lifting the limp girl and setting her down gently on the stones.
“She was transformed,” Alice said, “and something hurt her badly. There was no wound when she changed back, but . . .”
Magda sucked her teeth. “I don’t know much about Readers and their magic,” she said. “But I’ll do what I can. Emma, go and get fresh water.”
The servant girl obeyed silently. Michael sat at Jen’s side as the bone witch bent to her task. Alice put a hand on his shoulder for a moment and tried to think of something comforting, but the words stuck in her throat. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, then looked up at her, expression serious but composed.
“I’ll stay with her,” he said. “You make sure the others are all right.”
Not knowing what else to do, Alice nodded and turned away. Flicker came with her, and eventually she said, “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
Last they’d talked, Flicker had been headed back to his own world, to try and convince his tribe to help in the struggle against the old Readers. He gave an embarrassed shrug.
“I can only spend so long arguing with Pyros before I go crazy. I wanted to see you and talk strategy, but when I got here—” He waved a hand. “Coryptus looked like he needed help keeping order.”
“Thank you,” Alice said.
“What happened?”
Voice low, Alice explained, “The old Readers sent creatures to attack us. Ending can keep watch on the library portals, so they sent them flying through the real world and took us by surprise. It was . . . bad. Not everyone made it.”
Flicker’s hair, always sensitive to his emotional state, darkened until it was as dull as burned-out embers.
“I didn’t expect them come at us this way,” Alice went on. “Maybe we should have kept everyone in the library after all. But there were attacks almost every day, and—”
“I’m sure you did what you could.” Flicker looked at the creatures around them, who were casting surreptitious glances in their direction. “You always do, I should know that better than anyone.”
“But it’s not enough.” Alice lowered her voice to a whisper. “These are people who trusted me to defend them, and now they’re dead. Jen could die any minute, for all I know. Soranna’s hurt, just because she tried to warn me, and . . . and . . .”
“Alice,” Flicker said, glancing around again. “I understand. But . . .”
But not here, he means. Don’t talk about it in front of the others. Not where they might see that I don’t know what I’m doing, and get scared. She wanted to scream. No matter what I do, it’s never enough. She swallowed, blinked away tears, and clenched her jaw so hard, it ached.
“Sister Alice!” This was Dex, approaching with Isaac supported on one arm. Another casualty. At least he seemed conscious now. “I’m glad to see you’re uninjured. Brother Isaac is recovering, but I’m sorry to have had to abandon the battle at such a crucial moment.”
“The library creatures are going back outside to look for anyone who got hurt,” Isaac said, raising his head. “We need to organize them, and make sure—” He paused, looking at her. “Alice? Are you all right?”
Alice’s teeth were clenched too tight to speak. Her hands balled into trembling fists.
“Sister Jen was injured,” Dex said. “I’m sure Sister Alice is upset.”
“I’m sorry,” Isaac said. “But we need to figure out what we’re doing next.”
We need to figure it out. Meaning Alice needs to figure it out. She forced her mouth open and gasped for breath. What if Alice doesn’t know? Then what?
“Organize the creatures, look for wounded,” she said, very quietly. She felt like if she spoke any louder, she would scream. “Get Flicker to help you.”
Isaac nodded. “Do you think it would be best to—”
“Figure it out!” Alice snapped, turning away before he could see the tears rising to her eyes again.
Isaac started to say something more, but Alice was already stalking into a nearby aisle. She reached out for the fabric of the labyrinth and tugged a pathway into place, a connection between here and there. Another step, and she was gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
ENDING’S CHOICE
ALICE WALKED THROUGH THE library at random for a while, the dust of the floor coating her bare feet. Then she sat, cross-legged, with her back to one of the shelves. She closed her eyes and waited. As always, it didn’t take long.
“Hello, Alice.” Ending’s voice was a low, soft rumble, nearly a purr.
Alice opened her eyes. The angle of the light had changed, and directly opposite her was a patch of deep shadow. In that darkness, two great yellow eyes gleamed bright. A jet-black tail extended out into the light, swishing gently back and forth and raising tiny waves of dust.
“You heard,” Alice said.
It wasn’t a question. Ending was a labyrinthine, a maze-demon. The twisted, folded space that encompassed the library was ultimately her creation, and she knew everything that happened within it.
“I did,” Ending said. “If anyone can help Jen, Magda can. She is a skilled healer.”
“She shouldn’t need help,” Alice said. “She shouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place. If I’d thought about the old Readers coming at us overland, we could have set lookouts, had more warning. Everyone could have been safe by the time those things arrived.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Jen’s hurt and other people are dead because I can’t think. Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“A great many more would be dead if you weren’t here,” Ending said. “Perhaps everyone in the library, and me along with them.”
“You don’t understand.” Alice’s eyes stung with the tears she could no long restrain. “I saved them once, and now they expect me to keep saving them.”
“You told them you would,” Ending said.
“Because I didn’t know what else to do!” Alice said. “Because I thought we’d have more time, that we’d be able to . . . to do something. We beat the Ouroborean, and I thought that meant we could beat anything they could throw at us.” She took a shuddering breath. “But we have to beat them every time. The old Readers don’t care how many of their creatures I kill. Sooner or later, every one of us is going to end up like Jen, even if we keep winning. And if we lose, even once, then that’s the end. For everybody.”
Alice folded her legs and pulled her knees to her chest. There was a moment of silence, and then the soft padding of Ending’s footsteps. Alice looked up in surprise. Ending normally preferred to remain in shadow, but now she moved over to Alice’s side. She looked like a cat, not quite a house cat but something more akin to a panther, so big that her head was on a level with Alice’s. Her fur was soft, inky black, rippling like velvet, but now Alice could see its smooth perfection was flawed. Long scratches ran down Ending’s sides, half-healed wounds that had scabbed over.
“You’re hurt,” Alice said.
“It’s nothing,” Ending said. “A memento from my struggle to keep m
y brothers and sisters away.”
That meant the other labyrinthine. Each Reader had one as their servant, to guard their fortress and contain their library. Ending had told her that the magical portal-books leaked, allowing whatever was on the other side to slowly trickle into the real world. Putting too many of those books in the same place was a recipe for disaster. Only the labyrinths created by the labyrinthine allowed the Readers to keep their libraries under control.
“I’m sorry,” Alice said. “I know this has been hard on you too.”
Ending sat down beside her, folding herself into a ball in a way that was so like a house cat that it made Alice smile. Hesitantly, she put a hand on Ending’s shoulder, feeling the taut muscle beneath the silky fur. After a moment, Alice leaned against the great cat, inhaling her musky smell and feeling the warmth of her massive body.
“I fight because I have no other choice,” Ending said. Her deep voice resonated through Alice’s skull where they were pressed together, making her teeth buzz. “My siblings will fight until they can banish me, or bind me in a prison. Their Readers will allow nothing less. But you did not have to pick up this burden.” Ending’s head lay on her paws. “You knew it would be dangerous.”
“It’s not the danger that bothers me,” Alice said. “Not the danger to me, anyway. I always knew I could get hurt. But all the rest of them keep looking to me for answers, and I just don’t know. I do everything I can think of, and I’m still failing them. I promised to keep them safe, and I can’t do it.”
“You could walk away,” Ending said.
“You know I can’t. The old Readers would follow me. And I couldn’t leave everyone alone.” Alice took a deep breath. “There has to be something we can do. Some way we can beat the old Readers, once and for all.”
The Fall of the Readers Page 3
