“I’m afraid we’re long past the time for bargains, girl,” Torment said, his words rising into a growl. “Though you were right, of course. Your friends would have died one way or the other. That was the whole point of this farce, you see. Not that killing the lot of you is any kind of an achievement, but it’s a beginning. Readers. The world will be better off without you.”

“Sister Alice!” Dex called.

Alice looked over her shoulder. Wolves were emerging from among the statues, slinking out of the shadows and into the torchlight. They were long and lithe, smaller than Torment but still twice the size of the biggest dog Alice had ever seen. Their shaggy coats were black, brown, or streaky gray, though none had the utter light-drinking darkness of Torment’s ebony fur. At least a dozen of them surrounded Dex and Soranna, and more slipped among the statues to approach Alice and Isaac.

“My children,” Torment said. “My pack. I’ve heard that some of Ending’s offspring are nearly as smart as their mother, but I’m afraid in my case we don’t breed quite as true. They understand me well enough, though.”

A gray wolf stepped in front of Alice, lips curling back from ivory fangs. It growled, low and dangerous. She risked a glance at Isaac, who was still staring fixedly at Torment and Jacob.

“That’s enough to make them useful tools,” Torment went on. He prodded Jacob’s limp body with his paw. “Unlike this one. A useless tool is broken, and a broken tool is fit only to be disposed of.” The huge black wolf fixed his ice-blue eyes on Alice. “Something you would do well to keep in mind, girl.”

Then, with sudden, violent speed, Torment’s jaws snapped downward.

Isaac screamed, an incoherent shriek of rage and pain. Cold wind lashed out from him, and a long, dagger-sharp icicle formed between his hands and lengthened into a spear. His hand thrust out, and the weapon followed the gesture as if it had been launched from a cannon. It embedded itself in Torment’s hide just behind his shoulder, biting deep, but against the wolf’s bulk, the spear looked like a toy. Torment, steaming muzzle stained red, glanced briefly at Isaac, then dipped his head in Alice’s direction.

“Save me this one,” he said, loud enough to fill the room. “Kill the rest.”