His expression went flat. ‘What do you think?’

Alice looked back along the corridor. She looked down at herself, in her father’s favourite dress, and up at him, just as she remembered. She ran a finger across her cheek, where the scar ought to be.

‘I think . . .’

He cocked his head, waiting.

‘I think this is a dream,’ Alice said.

Her father smiled. ‘I always said you were the smart one in the family.’

Alice went on tiptoes and wrapped her arms around him, feeling his weight, his warmth, the familiar scent of his aftershave. She kissed his cheek softly, and he ruffled her hair in a way that made her feel like a little girl.

‘I love you,’ she said.

‘I love you, Alice,’ he said.

She smiled against his cheek. ‘I know.’

‘And I believe in you. Whatever happens, I have faith that you’ll get through it.’

Alice nodded. Pulling herself away was cruelly hard. She brushed down her dress where it had got rumpled, wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeves, and turned to the doorway.

‘Through here?’ she said.

‘Through there.’

There was nothing but blackness. And something else – barely audible – music? She could hardly be certain she’d heard it, but the tiny scraps she could make out sounded somehow familiar. A tune she’d heard once before, and forgotten.

She looked back at her father, at his smile, and tried to burn the image into her memory. If everything else faded, as dreams had a tendency to do, she wanted to keep this.

Then she turned away, blinking back tears, pulled open the door, and stepped into the darkness.

Chapter Twenty-four: Sleeping Beauty

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

SLEEPING BEAUTY

Alice opened her eyes.

She lay in the bed in the room in Geryon’s suite, covered in blankets up to her neck. The lamps were out, and the faint silver glow of moonlight outlined the sofa, the chairs and bookcases.

Her hand came up automatically and brushed her cheek. There was a long, thin scar there.

She sat up carefully, expecting protests from her much-abused body. Somewhat to her surprise, she felt quite well. She was wearing a pair of sky-blue pyjamas that were a bit too large for her. Alice threw back the blankets and wiggled her toes, which responded satisfactorily.

She closed her eyes and reached out for the Swarm. The thread was there as always, shining and silver, but it had been joined by another. This one was a deep brown in colour, as though it were made of wood, but it bucked and twisted like a living thing. Experimentally, Alice took hold of it, and it thrashed in her mental grip for a while before settling down.