It was Isaac, hanging limp from her jaws by his battered coat. Ending dropped him in a heap at Alice’s feet. The big cat’s tongue licked out, cleaning a dark spatter of blood from her muzzle.
“Isaac!” Alice shouted. She couldn’t see much of him under his long coat, but he wasn’t moving. She was suddenly back in Esau’s fortress, watching as another labyrinthine casually tore out Jacob’s throat. “Isaac!”
“You want him to live?” Ending said. “Is that it? Stop fighting me, and I’ll grant you that, at least.”
Alice struggled to free her legs. “I’d never trust you,” she spat.
“You don’t have much alternative.” Ending yawned. “I might as well keep him alive, if you cooperate. He’s no threat to me. Not like you are.”
“If you’ve . . . if you’ve hurt him, I’ll kill you,” Alice said, breathing fast. Her right leg came free. “I don’t care what it takes.”
“You won’t, you know,” Ending said, looking on with interest. “This isn’t some stupid storybook where the underdog wins in the end. This is the real world. The strongest do what they want, and everyone else has to live with it. Or”—she glanced significantly at Isaac—“not.”
Alice finally got the last knot in space undone. She was free, but Ending was standing right in front of her, as though daring her to make a move. Isaac lay motionless between them.
“You know me,” Alice said. “You know I won’t give in.”
“And you knew from the start that you couldn’t beat me,” Ending said. “So what are you doing?”
Alice felt the fabric of the labyrinth shiver as someone twisted a pathway from here to there.
“Buying time,” she said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ONE LAST TIME
ENDING SPUN AS AN enormous portal shimmered into being. There was no doorway, no convenient corner to hide the twist of space. Just the utter impossibility of it, a place where one that could take you from this desolate island—
Back to Geryon’s library, with its toppled shelves and book-strewn floor.
In the center of the circular hole in space stood the Dragon, towering above Ending. Its head snaked through the portal, followed by one foot.
“Sister,” the Dragon said.
“Brother,” Ending snarled. “So this was her gambit.”
“Yes.”
“You know it won’t be enough.” Alice felt Ending’s energy ripple through the labyrinth. “However large you are, your power is no match for mine. You couldn’t beat me when I locked you away the first time, and I am so much stronger now.”
“Nevertheless.” The Dragon took another step forward.
Once again, two labyrinthine fought, their colliding energies shaking the fabric of space. Alice ignored them for a moment and ran to Isaac, rolling him onto his back and pulling his coat out of the way. She was relieved to find him breathing, though his eyes were tightly closed. There was blood on his shirt, but the cuts beneath didn’t look serious.
“This time,” Ending grated, “I’m going to find a more unpleasant world to lock you in.”
Alice looked up and saw the air between the maze-demons shimmering. Ending was right. The Dragon’s influence was shoved back, step by step, and bonds of folded space wrapped themselves around its legs, pinning it halfway through the portal. It was all the huge creature could do to maintain the link between the library and the island.
Alice got to her feet, her legs shaky, ready to add her scant remaining strength to the battle. The fact that Isaac was all right gave her a kind of peace. I’ll do everything I can.
Someone else emerged from the portal, stepping around the Dragon. It was an Enoki girl, not much older than Alice, with purple toadstools growing in her hair. She carried a long spear, little more than a straight stick with a sharpened end. Her eyes were wide with terror, but she managed to move a few steps forward and lower the spear in Ending’s direction.
The huge cat stared at this defiant display, then looked over her shoulder. She chuckled, then began to laugh, pawing at her ear.
“Really?” she said, between breaths. “Really? I expected better of you, Alice.”
“It’s Gulitheps, isn’t it?” Alice said, loud enough to carry over the labyrinthine’s mockery.
“Y . . . yes.” The mushroom-girl’s voice was nearly inaudible.
“Thank you for coming.” Alice got to her feet.
Two more Enoki, a man and a woman, stepped through the shimmering portal. They also carried spears, and they took up positions on either side of Gulitheps. The woman put a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulders, and she steadied a little. Another half dozen of them were close behind, forming a line of sharpened points in front of Ending. Next came Coryptus, the old man who led the Enoki, with at least two dozen of them. He waved cheerily to Alice, the fungal growths on his back shaking.
Magda the bone witch was right behind him. Her long coat, made of sewn-together bones, was fully animated, dozens of skeletal limbs rising around her.
“By Ushbar, it’s good to see you!” she called to Alice.
“You too,” Alice said. She felt strength returning to her exhausted limbs.
More of the magical creatures of the library filed through. Sprites of every description, multicolored hair sparkling, all carrying swords or spears or bows and arrows. Lool, the clockwork spider, had equipped herself with what looked like an enormous circular saw. Ephraster the harpy-girl flapped above the rest, her talons outstretched.
Alice almost missed Jen in the crush of people. She fought free of the press and ran toward Alice. Ashes, Alice saw, was riding on her shoulder.
“Is that Isaac?” Jen said.
“He’s all right,” Alice said. “Are you okay?”
“Much better,” Jen said. “Magda says I’m back to normal, more or less. But Michael—”
“We’re going to get him back,” Alice said. “Right now.”
Still more creatures were coming through the gate. People Alice didn’t recognize—lithe, elegant figures in white masks and black tailcoats, stumpy three-legged monsters with long, waving tentacles, a great clanking knight in rusty armor with a sword as tall as he was. A blaze of orange and red light marked a cluster of fire-sprites, and Alice recognized Actinia at their head. Bringing up the rear was a phalanx of ice-giants, huge women in armored blue steel and bearing enormous double-headed axes. Erdrodr and her mother, Helga, were leading them.
“There’s so many,” Alice said. “Ashes, how did you do it?”
“I’d like to say it was all my own talent, but cats are naturally modest,” Ashes said. “They barely needed any convincing. Once I said you needed help, they started spreading the word, across the library and into the books.”
“They believe in you, Alice,” Jen said. “We all do.”
Alice blinked back tears. “I don’t . . . I can’t . . .”
“I think that you should take charge,” Ashes said quickly. “Before Mother does something drastic.”
Ending was no longer laughing.
Alice pushed her way through the throng of creatures, with Jen by her side. A shout went up, so many voices at once that she couldn’t understand them. She nodded, eyes blurred with tears, and they parted to let her through.
Actinia, at the head of the small band of fire-sprites, was waiting near Helga, Erdrodr, and the other ice-giants. He handed off his spear and ran to wrap Alice in a hug, while Erdrodr, looking formidable in gleaming armor, gave a hesitant wave.
“When Flicker didn’t come back, I wanted to go after him,” Actinia said. He’d been one of Flicker’s closest friends in the fire-sprite village. “Pyros wouldn’t let me, so I asked Erdrodr to help convince him. When word came that you needed us—”
“It ended the argument,” boomed Helga, Erdrodr’s mother. She had a massive double-headed a
xe in either hand. “I told that fussy old man that you had earned our faith.”
“Thank you.” Alice gently separated herself from Actinia. “Flicker’s alive. We’ll get him back, I promise.”
“Of course we will,” Actinia said. His glowing hair flamed a bright orange-red.
The front rank of magical creatures had their spears lowered, a wall of sharp points that Ending regarded with slitted eyes. Alice had feared she’d attack at once, but she was outmatched and she knew it. If Alice and the Dragon could keep her space-warping power at bay, even Ending couldn’t fight an army.
Alice stepped between spear points, and once again stood facing the labyrinthine.
“The strongest don’t always get what they want,” she said to Ending. “Not when the weak can work together.”
“Very touching,” Ending said. “You know that if we play this out, a lot of those people are going to die.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Alice said quietly. For a moment, she saw Reaper’s hovering shadow again, and shook her head. “Do you think they don’t know it?”
Ending’s eyes narrowed further. Then she sighed and sat back on her haunches.
“I underestimated you,” the big cat said. “A hard mistake to admit. I should have known better.”
“Don’t make us fight you,” Alice said. Her throat felt tight. “You can’t beat us all.”
“You’re right.” Ending yawned theatrically, her tail whipping. “You win. How does this sound? You get the library, and my siblings and I agree to leave you in peace for a reasonable period. You can be included in our councils if you like; it’s your birthright as a labyrinthine. We can even find some territory for my fool of a brother over there.”
“No,” Alice said.
“I wouldn’t get too pushy, if I were you,” Ending said. “You may have me at a disadvantage, but you still have to deal with the others—”
“I mean no terms,” Alice said. “I’m going to break the Great Binding. Stand aside.”
There was a long pause.
“You’re serious,” Ending said.
“Of course,” Alice said. “You thought I was doing this for . . . for territory? For power?”
“I thought you were upset that I imprisoned you in the void,” Ending said. “That would be reasonable. Freeing the First is not. Do you have any idea what would happen?”
“She would return home,” Alice said. “Taking the labyrinthine with her.”
“It’s one thing to try to win the game,” Ending said. “It’s another to set the board on fire!” She was speaking quickly now. “I know I’ve hurt you, Alice, but—”
“It’s not a game,” Alice said. “Don’t you understand? There are people out in the real world, in the libraries, and the books, and you’re hurting all of them.” She took a deep breath. “Geryon killed my father, and I hated him for it. But it wasn’t just my father he hurt, it was everyone. Everyone he touched. All the old Readers were the same. And so are the labyrinthine.”
Another, longer silence. When Ending spoke again, all the humor was gone from her voice, replaced with a low, dangerous growl.
“You were a mistake,” she said. “I should have known. I wanted a labyrinthine with the powers of a Reader, and I got one, but I left it to be raised by humans.” Her lip curled back. “We’re hurting people? So what? People hurt each other all the time, every day. We’re just better at it.”
“Get out of the way, Ending.”
“So that you can destroy us all?” She drew herself up to her full height, fur bristling. “No. I’ll send every one of you to the void if I have to.” Her voice rose to a full-throated roar. “Let’s see you get out this time!”
Alice blinked, and for a moment her head swam. The fabric of the labyrinth, of space itself, shuddered and began to tear. Alice looked around wildly, and saw rents appear in the world, brief glimpses of the blackness that lay beyond. The magical creatures saw them, too, and there were shouts of alarm. Some of the Enoki surged forward, spears jabbing, and Ending twisted lithely away, baring her fangs.
Alice concentrated, throwing her own strength against Ending’s, trying to calm the storm. It wasn’t enough. The fabric frayed further. Alice felt as though she were on the edge of a tabletop, scrabbling to hold on as it was tilted further and further, tipping her into nothingness along with everyone else.
“Enough.” The voice was a deep, bass rumble. “Tantrums ill become you, sister.”
The Dragon stepped all the way through the gate, and let it fade into nothingness behind it. In her rage, Ending had abandoned the twists of space that kept the huge creature pinioned. Alice felt its power flow around hers, stabilizing the world, pressing back against the raw force of Ending’s strength. The magical creatures parted ranks to let the Dragon through.
“Brother!” Ending hissed, back arched. “How can you take her side?”
“Because she is right,” the Dragon said.
Its head snapped forward, jaws spread wide. Ending tried to dodge, but the Dragon was as fast as a snake, and it gripped her in its teeth and lifted her off the ground. She yowled, the whine of a cat in deep trouble, and scratched wildly at the side of the Dragon’s face, but her claws only drew sparks from its scales.
“Now cease your struggling,” the Dragon said, its voice unaffected by the fact that it had a mouth full of angry cat. “If you wish to remain a witness to the proceedings.”
Ending’s assault stopped abruptly. Alice let out a deep breath and let go of the fabric.
“Are you all right?” Jen said. “What just happened?”
“I’m fine.” Alice glanced up at Ending. “We’ll all be fine. I just need to do what I came here to do.”
Jen clapped her on the shoulder and grinned. Wearily, Alice turned to the binding stone, just beyond where Ending had been standing.
“Don’t be a fool!” Ending shouted, from where the Dragon held her high overhead. “Alice!”
Alice stepped forward.
“The First will take every labyrinthine home with her,” Ending said, her voice cracking in desperation. “That means Ashes. That means you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
ALICE’S SACRIFICE
ALICE’S STRIDE DIDN’T EVEN falter. But another figure stepped in front of her as she approached the binding stone, a boy in a long, ragged coat, one hand pressed to a fresh cut in his side, his face white under the grime and streaks of blood.
“Isaac,” Alice said. “Are you—”
“Is it true?” Isaac said.
“You should get Magda to—”
“Is it true? You’re leaving?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Alice nodded. Isaac took a step backward, slumping against the binding stone.
“How long have you known?” he said.
“Since I figured out the truth about what I am,” Alice said. “I was going to tell you, but . . .”
“But what?”
Alice swallowed and squared her shoulders. “I was scared.”
“Of me?”
“That if you knew what would happen when I set the First free, you wouldn’t—”
“Wouldn’t help you kill yourself?”
“I’m not killing myself!” Alice said. “The First is taking the labyrinthine home. It’s just another world.”
“No it isn’t,” Isaac said. “You have no idea what it will be like! Whether you can even live there. And you won’t be able to come back, will you?”
Alice found she couldn’t lie, not now. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. The First only got here by luck. I don’t think she expects any of us to come back again.”
“So don’t act like you know what you’re doing, then!” Isaac said. “Please, Alice. There has to be another way.”
“You think I haven’t thought about
it?” Alice felt herself tearing up again and blinked furiously. “You think I want this? I don’t have a choice. It’s either free the First, or let the labyrinthine take over the world.”
“You’re a Reader,” Isaac said. “You always have a choice. You could leave this world behind and find another one, far away from the labyrinthine, far away from everything.” His voice sank. “I would go with you.”
“I can’t.” Alice stepped forward. She reached out and touched Isaac’s cheek, gently. Tears were cutting a clean trail through the grime on his face. “You know I can’t.”
Isaac swallowed. “After Evander . . . after he left, I was alone. I did what my master commanded. I told myself that had to be enough. Then you came . . .” He closed his eyes. “Now you’re going to leave me, too.”
“The others will still be here. Dex, Michael, Jen, Soranna. They need you.” Alice could barely speak past the lump in her throat. “There’ll be a lot to do. There’ll be people who need help.”
Her hand slipped down his arm, and their fingers intertwined. Isaac squeezed so tight, she thought her bones might break.
“If you can find a way back,” he whispered. “If there’s any way. I’ll be waiting.”
Alice nodded, and laid her hand on the binding stone.
It wasn’t like freeing the Dragon from its prison. This spell was much simpler, and the prisoner was so much greater than anything that could have been bound into a book. Even with all the power of the Great Binding, the First Labyrinthine strained in her sleep, pushing at the restraints. Her dreams leaked out, she said, to touch the world.
Freeing the Dragon had been like carefully cutting a single leaf from the center of a thorn bush. This was more like snipping the string on a helium balloon, and watching it bob upward into the sky.
The Fall of the Readers Page 20
