There was a guinea pig here, that was for certain. It was in a cage on a table at the far end of the shed. It was long-haired, black and appeared very, very old, with wise black eyes pressed into its face like tiny ancient raisins. It had the beginnings of a gray beard. All around the cage and down on the floor, members of the Cosmic Web—squirrels, rabbits, robins, blackbirds, shrews, mice, voles and hedgehogs—were . . . were . . . Neptune moved into the shed to see more closely. But yes, how bafflingly peculiar. The animals seemed to be . . . they seemed to be . . .

They were actually worshipping the guinea pig.

The babbling he could hear was some kind of ancient Cosmic Web chant: a Song of the Divine from the very olden days. Not that the Cosmic Web experienced time in the same way as humans and domesticated animals, of course. For them, the olden days were now, and vice versa. Time wasn’t a line; it was more of a blob. Soon, Neptune began to make out some of what they were chanting. “Oh venerable one, wise one, mighty one.” (The guinea pig didn’t look very mighty, or even very meaty, in fact, but whatever.) “Sagacious master, knowledgeable one, long-haired sage, seeker of the ultimate mystery . . .”

Then, abruptly, the chanting stopped.

A new, quite different song began.

“Cat!!! Cat!!! Danger!!! Danger!!!”

The Cosmic Web was good at removing itself quickly when it had to. In a haze of fur and feathers and claws and beaks, the shed began to empty as all the small mammals and birds escaped through the many holes and burrows by which they’d entered. In a few moments, the shed had cleared, and Neptune faced the guinea pig alone.

It seemed to take forever before the voices—the Russian one, the haughty one, the Northern European one and the slightly sulky one—faded and eventually disappeared from the University Library.

Laurel Wilde let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She released her grip on her daughter.

“Now will you tell us what’s going on?” asked Raven.

“Soon,” said Laurel. “Where are your other friends?”

“Maximilian and Effie?” said Raven.

“And Wolf,” said Dora.

“Wolf isn’t here,” said Lexy. “But Effie and Maximilian are still in the other wing, I think.”

The Old Town University Library’s Special Collections section had two different wings. Although there were no signs, and no real classification system, it seemed that just under half the books related to the Realworld, and just over a third to the Otherworld. There was also a small section of dark-looking volumes devoted to the Underworld. Maximilian had last been seen there. Effie had remained in the Otherworld section, browsing through maps and guidebooks.

“Please tell me you haven’t become a Diberi,” said Raven to her mother.