She trailed off. The yellow eyes had gone very wide, and a deep, rumbling growl echoed off the bookshelves and rattled Alice’s back teeth. She felt like a mouse, going about its business in the kitchen, who suddenly looked up and saw those eyes looming above it.

‘I am bound to Geryon,’ Ending said in a low, dangerous tone. ‘By ancient contract. I keep his library safe in the coils of my labyrinth. I protect his precious books from his enemies. But I am not his servant. And someday . . .’

She stopped, staring into the distance.

Alice cleared her throat. ‘Sorry. I just meant, if someone is trying to steal his book, shouldn’t we tell him about it?’

‘It’s not his book,’ Ending snapped. ‘It’s mine.’

‘All right, all right,’ Alice said. ‘I was only asking.’

The yellow eyes were gone, the shadows dark and empty.

‘What is this book, anyway?’ Alice said, half to herself. ‘What’s so important about it?’

Ending’s voice was a distant whisper. ‘The Dragon . . .’

Chapter Thirteen: The Eyes of a Wizard

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE EYES OF A WIZARD

Alice took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Geryon’s suite. His voice answered at once.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s Alice, sir,’ she said. ‘Mr Black said you wanted to see me.’

Finding the sour-faced servant at her door first thing in the morning was never a pleasant experience, but after a week of hunting through the library for scraps, Alice was more than pleased to receive Geryon’s summons.

He opened the door to his suite wearing his usual shabby jacket and stained waistcoat. His beard and whiskers were freshly combed, though, and there was a gleam of anticipation in his eye.

‘Come in, come in.’ He ushered her into the hall, past the bedroom where she’d woken up after the Swarm incident and half a dozen other closed doors. At the end of the corridor, one door stood open, and Geryon waved her inside.

‘Over here,’ he said. ‘Mind the pillows.’

The room was small, the floor covered in a burgundy carpet so thick that Alice’s shoes sank into it, the walls heavily hung with soft-looking fabric. There was no furniture, not even a bookcase, but tasselled pillows were scattered everywhere, gathered in the corners and built up into a kind of nest. Geryon sat in the middle of these, looking utterly out of place.

‘I apologize for the way this place looks,’ he said. ‘Take off your shoes, please, and make yourself comfortable.’

Baffled, Alice did as he asked, and sat where he indicated, just in front of him, her skirts folded neatly underneath her. The carpet was as soft as it looked, slipping through her fingers like thick, springy moss.

‘How have you been finding your work with Mr Wurms?’ Geryon said.

Weighing her options, Alice decided that honesty was probably best. ‘On the dull side, sir.’