“Fortunately,” Esau said, “your cooperation is no longer required. I will simply take this ship apart until I find what I’m looking for.”

“No!” Alice’s father hesitated. None of the other people on deck seemed to understand the Reader’s words, but they saw the conversation, and a wide, empty circle had formed around him. Some of the passengers were fleeing back belowdecks, or to the other side of the ship. More children were wailing in terror.

“These people have nothing to do with this,” Alice’s father said. “Listen! Alice—she’s not here! I swear it!”

“I find that unlikely,” Esau said. “After protecting her so carefully, I doubt you would simply leave her behind. But in either case, best to make certain.”

“She is not here!” Alice’s father looked around wildly. “Take me, if that’s what you’ve come to do. Kill me if you have to. No one else here deserves to suffer!”

“I’m afraid it’s a little late for that, Mr. Creighton,” Esau said. “You might have given that a thought before you got on board.”

At a gesture from the Reader, huge black tentacles shot out of the water, rising straight up like rubbery pillars. They curled downward, fastening around the ship, crushing the railing with a shriek of twisting metal. The decks groaned and popped, and glass shattered in the windows. Alice heard the crack of gunshots, as some brave crewman fired a pistol into the thing, with as little effect as a slingshot on an elephant.

“Damn you,” Alice’s father said. “Damn you!”

“Now, now, Mr. Creighton,” Esau said. “I tried to do this politely.”

There was another crack, louder than the pistol, and a simultaneous explosion of light. One of the moth-bats was outlined for an instant in the brilliant white glow of a lightning bolt. It burst into flame, folding up and falling into the sea.

The point of view shifted as Esau looked up. The sky, which had been clear moments before, was now a mass of dark thunderheads, illuminated from within by a continuous, flickering barrage of lightning. At the forefront of the storm hung a single dark figure, outlined by the wild bolts of electricity.

“I ought to have known!” Esau shouted, above the roar of the wind.

He rose, hovering above the ship. The dark figure came closer.

“You can never keep your nose out of my business!” Esau said.

“The opportunity was too good to miss,” the dark figure said. “It’s not often I can lure you out of hiding.”

“And I, in turn, appreciate the opportunity to destroy you once and for all.”

A bolt of lightning slashed between them. In that brief moment, as bright light illuminated the shadowed figure, its face was burned into Alice’s retina. It was a face she knew well.

Geryon.