Alice looked up into Geryon’s smiling face. He looked almost the same as ever—the same as she’d seen in the magic mirror—but she thought she could sense a change. Something around the eyes, a tiny hint of suspicion peeking through his kindly facade. Or is it me that’s changed?

“Yes, sir,” she said, in a business-like tone. “Jacob is dead, and none of the other apprentices stole anything from the fortress.”

“Good, good. I imagine there’s a lot of cleaning up to do there.”

“Yes, sir. Quite a bit.”

“All in good time. You’ve done well, and you must be tired. We can go over the details later.”

“Thank you, sir,” Alice said. “I’m going to go and get some rest.”

She nodded politely to Geryon, turned, and left the study. The weight of exhaustion was suddenly oppressive, and she shut the door and rested against it for a few moments.

She didn’t notice Emma, as silent as a solid ghost, until she was standing right in front of her with a platter bearing a pitcher of water and a plate of sandwiches.

“For me?” Alice said.

Emma nodded.

“Please put it in my room, and then come back here,” Alice said. The girl marched up the stairs at once, and Alice followed when her legs felt up to the challenge. Ascending to the third floor was a torture of aches and bruises. It felt like a thousand years ago that she’d been sprinting down the hallways of Esau’s fortress with wolves in hot pursuit. Emma, platter delivered, passed her on the stairs, going back down to wait for further orders.

Ashes was curled in a tight ball outside her door. As Alice came down the corridor, he got up and wove back and forth in front of her like he was trying to get stepped on.

“She returns at last!” the cat said. “It can’t have been that bad. You’ve still got all your limbs!”

Alice was not in the mood for Ashes’ humor, and that comment only reminded her of Dex’s misadventure with the crocodile. She stepped past him.

“Alice?” Ashes hurried after her. “Wait. Alice!”

For a moment she wanted to slam her door, but it wasn’t really Ashes she was angry at. She left the door cracked open, and a moment later his head popped through, with the chagrined look of a cat expecting a smack.

“You are all right, aren’t you?” he said. “Was it really terrible?”

“I’m fine,” Alice said, though she wasn’t sure that was the truth. “It was . . . hard.” Then, seeing Ashes’ drooping ears, she added, “Honestly, though. I’m okay. I’m just . . . very tired.”

“All right,” Ashes said. He still sounded dubious.

“We can talk in the morning,” Alice said.

“It is the morning.”

“In the evening, then. Or tomorrow. Whenever I wake up.”