“There is a great deal I could tell you,” it said, finally. “But if I did, I would be no better than the others, who think to use you as a tool for their own ends. Do you remember when you came to fight me, in the prison-book?”

Alice laughed hollowly. “I’m not likely to forget.”

“Do you know why I submitted to you, rather than fighting to the end?”

She shook her head.

“I thought you were there at my sister’s direction. It is her way to use everyone around her as a part of her plans, whether they are aware of it or not. In this, she is no better than Geryon. But you . . . I felt that you would not be used. Would not allow yourself to be used. You deserve the opportunity to make your own choices, to walk your own path. Indeed, I believe you will do so, regardless of what Ending, Geryon, or anyone else intends. You must do what you believe to be right.”

“Right?” Alice said. “What if I can’t tell for certain?”

The Dragon’s face was immobile, but Alice thought she heard a smile in its voice. “Which of us can?”

It was too much to think about, and Alice was too tired. She felt drained, cored, like a rind of fruit after it had been squeezed for juice.

“Right now,” she said, “all I want to do is go home.” That meant the Library, she realized. Her small room on the third floor, with the cracks in the ceiling, the book lying half read on her pillow, and the two threadbare rabbits standing silent sentry by the window. She shook her head, fighting the exhaustion. “But the others. I need to get back to them.”

“Yes. This is good-bye, then. For a time. Someday you will be a powerful enough Reader in your own right to call me up and bend me to your will.” The Dragon inclined its head. “I hope, when that day comes, you remember . . . moments like this, when you were in the power of another. It is something that the other Readers, I fear, have forgotten.”

“I will.” Alice climbed to her feet, shrugging the Dragon’s tail off of her shoulders. “Thank you.”

The Dragon’s black tongue flicked out between its teeth, tasting the air. “Good luck.”

Then, with a rush of air that set the dust to swirling, the vast creature was gone.

Alice was glad to find that the Dragon’s disappearance did not remove her ability to manipulate the labyrinth. But Torment’s absence was like a vast wound in the fabric, and without his power to maintain the twisted, folded space, it was unraveling. For the moment, it was still solid enough that Alice, eyes closed, could pull a doorway into the storeroom, and then connect it to the throne room.