‘You must have a way of getting in touch with Vespidian. I want you to set up a meeting, in the library. Tell him I can get him the Dragon book, and I’m willing to make a deal.’

Mr Black met her gaze again. ‘If you turn that little flying rat over to Geryon, it’s as good as turning me in.’

‘You don’t have to worry about that,’ Alice said. ‘I just have some questions of my own for him.’

One huge hand came up and scratched the bristly black hair on his chin as Mr Black pondered.

‘So that’s it?’ Mr Black said darkly. ‘Just send him a message?’

‘More or less. And I need you to answer one more question . . .’

Chapter Twenty-nine: Vespidian

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

VESPIDIAN

The place Alice had chosen for her meeting with Vespidian was a cluster of shelves that, according to Ending, hosted a portal-book to a world of endless forests and vicious, six-armed monkeys. On the library side, the book’s atmosphere had leaked out, creating a humid tropical air. A huge banyan tree dominated the circle of shelves, with the book nestled somewhere in its upper branches. Vines webbed it together with half a dozen smaller trees, creating an interlocking network of tendrils and creepers.

Alice sat on a ridge in the banyan’s complicated root system, tapping her foot and trying not to jump up and pace. Technically, she was sneaking out after hours again – Vespidian had agreed to meet her at midnight – but somehow the looming dread of breaking the rules had lost some of its sting. Instead, she was worried that the fairy would smell a trap and not turn up at all, and she was worried about what she would say to him if he did.

And whether my ‘friend’ will do her part. Alice strained her eyes, staring at the shadows, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement. She said she’d be here. It irked her that, after everything, she had to put her trust in Ending once again.

A flicker of colour caught her eyes. Yellow-and-black striped wings, the bold, ugly colours of something poisonous and unpleasant. Vespidian pulled himself out of a crack between bookcases and took to the air with a drone, looking around with a curious, unhurried attitude. He was just as Alice remembered him from that night in the kitchen, in what seemed like another lifetime: a few feet high, with a flat, nose-less face and huge wings that beat so fast, they were an insectile blur.

He caught sight of her and drifted over, threading his way easily between the hanging fronds and vines. Alice got to her feet, and Vespidian stopped in midair slightly above her head, so she was forced to crane her neck to look at him.