A pair of yellow eyes opened in the darkest part of the room, cat-slitted and glowing faintly. Below them was the faintest gleam of ivory, as though of moonlight catching sharp, white teeth. After a moment, two more pairs of eyes joined them, one huge and round like a startled hare’s, the other faintly green with weird, horizontal pupils.

‘This is the girl?’ said a voice, reedy and whispering.

‘Hmm,’ said another voice, so deep and resonant, it made Alice’s teeth buzz, even through the glass. ‘She doesn’t look like much.’

‘It’s not a matter of what she looks like.’ The third voice was Ending’s dark, feminine purr. ‘She’s the one we’ve been waiting for.’

‘So you say,’ said the first voice. ‘And yet you plan to risk her against our brother?’

‘It’s a good point,’ the second voice said. ‘She is nowhere near strong enough. And Geryon has the Dragon. If he’s able to bind it . . .’

‘I have been forced to . . . improvise,’ Ending said. ‘Too many powers were on the trail of the Dragon. It will be safer under Geryon’s protection, and he is cautious to a fault. It will be some time before he dares make an attempt. But the girl learns rapidly. In a year, perhaps two, she will be strong enough to defeat our brother and bind him to our cause.’

‘If she lives,’ said the first voice.

‘Hmmm,’ said the second. ‘He’s right. If Geryon catches the scent, he will not let her survive.’

‘She may not,’ Ending admitted. ‘I’m doing my best. But if she does—’

‘If she lives,’ the second voice rumbled, ‘I’ll be ready.’

‘Hmph,’ the first voice said. ‘If she survives, then . . . we’ll see.’

Two pairs of eyes closed and vanished. Ending remained, two luminous yellow circles in the shadows.

‘Perhaps I am a fool,’ she said. ‘It has been such a long time. But . . .’

The eyes half closed.

‘Good luck . . .’

Alice stepped back from the porthole. For some reason her heart was beating fast, and she looked up at her father for reassurance. He smiled, but she thought he looked a little sad.

‘Who were those things?’ she said. ‘Do you know?’

‘You’d know better than I would,’ he said.

Before she could ask him anything further, he was continuing down the corridor. Instead of another porthole, there was a door, identical to the one they’d come in by. Alice’s father gave the central wheel a few turns, grunting with the effort, and pulled it open a few inches. Beyond it was darkness, as heavy and complete as black velvet.

‘We’re going in there?’ Alice asked uncertainly.

‘You are,’ he said.

She thought about that for a while.

‘I have to ask,’ Alice said. ‘I know it’s – it doesn’t make any sense. But I have to ask.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Are you dead?’