‘All right.’

Alice’s hands ached with cramps, but her mental grip was still strong. She pulled on the thread, tugging in the direction she thought of as ‘reality’. It resisted at first, then gave a little, and there was a little pop from beside her. She felt a sudden pressure on her knee, and there was a well-remembered quirk.

The swarmer stood quietly, its claws dimpling her skirt, its body cocked at an angle that seemed almost quizzical. Its tiny black eyes gleamed. It took all her self-control not to jump up, or to grab the vile little thing and hurl it against the wall.

‘I thought I killed those things,’ Alice said, keeping her voice as calm as she could.

‘And so you did. I’d quite like to hear how you managed it, incidentally. But that was inside a prison-book, and in there, matters are a bit different. Time doesn’t progress, you see. It just goes round and round.’ Geryon shrugged. ‘Think of it like a novel. If a character dies on page four hundred, he’ll still be alive if you flip back to the beginning.’

‘So it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d drowned?’

‘It would have mattered a great deal to you, I suspect. As far as the book was concerned, when it went round again, you would just be gone, never to be seen again. To follow the analogy, as a Reader, you’re not part of the story, you just insert yourself into it for a while.’

The swarmer shifted, its claws pricking Alice’s thigh. She gritted her teeth.

‘But what is this thing doing here?’

‘You brought it here,’ Geryon said. ‘The thread you hold leads back to the prison-book. When you defeated the Swarm, you formed a bond between its essence and your own. It is yours now, and will be for all time. It will lend you its strength, fight your enemies, die for you if need be, and be ready to spring into action again afterwards.’

‘But—’ Alice looked down at the swarmer’s glassy black eyes. Her stomach churned.

‘This is the power of the Reader,’ Geryon went on. ‘The prison-books give us the power to bind another being to our will. You’ve taken your first step, and I congratulate you. But there’s a long way to go yet.’

Chapter Fourteen: A Second Chance at a First Impression

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A SECOND CHANCE AT A FIRST IMPRESSION

‘I still say they’re creepy,’ Ashes said.

‘I don’t think you get to decide what’s creepy,’ Alice said. ‘You’re a talking cat. You’re creepy. This whole place is creepy.’

‘Hmph.’ Ashes’ fur bristled with indignation.