Isaac summons whatever strength he has. Magic zings through him, sharp and bright. Isaac and Amelie fall through the door into utter black, and the door disappears, leaving the heaving city on the other side.

*   *   *

They stand in an echoing, pitch-dark space. The ground beneath their feet is solid and firm, and Isaac takes a deep breath. Amelie’s hand is warm in his.

“Where are we?” she whispers.

“I don’t know,” Isaac says, and as he speaks, a dim yellow light, from no clear source, grows around them as if sensing their presence.

“Do you think your parents meant us to feel that earthquake?” she asks.

He thinks about this. “I am not sure,” he says. “They said my travels would be dangerous. But it seems I am to experience a number of dangers.” Isaac wonders why his parents would do such a thing. Then he remembers his father’s word: “training.”

Maybe this is his fate. Isaac must learn to face this kind of danger. But, why?

The door behind them has vanished, the wall a smooth gray plaster. The man has disappeared. Isaac runs his hand down the silky-smooth wall where there had been a door. He turns.

They are in a long, windowless room, or series of rooms, the far wall disappearing into shadow. The walls on either side are lined with shelves, and a long table runs down the center.

On the shelves are myriad odd and wondrous objects.

“Look,” Amelie says. She moves away from him now that they are alone and goes to the table. There, perched on it, frozen into its coiled bracelet self, is the snake. “Do you think this is its home?” Amelie says.

“It led us here,” he says. “To this place. To that man who wore the pendant and seemed to know about the snake.” Isaac’s grateful to be away from the terror of the earthquake, and grateful for the hushed safety of this place. Whatever this place is.

The shelves are crowded with objects of all shapes, sizes, colors, types. They’re labeled by hand in an array of languages.

“Wow,” Isaac says.

“You said it.”

“It is like a museum,” Isaac says. Amelie begins to walk down the room examining the objects on the shelves. “My grandfather would have loved this.”

On the table next to the snake-bracelet is an open ledger. Isaac bends over it and can see entries and lists, also in a number of languages.

Amelie says, “Look at this.” She’s pulled out a sword, its hilt encrusted with rubies and emeralds. “And that,” she says, and points.