He heaved a feline sigh and coiled away, all wounded dignity, tail flicking back and forth behind him. Geryon stepped out of the way and let Alice through, then closed and locked the door behind them.

“Every Reader keeps a single open portal into his fortress,” Geryon said as they walked down the corridor. “A front door, if you like. Most of us maintain many other portals as well, of course, but this one is for official business. The place it leads to is heavily warded and alarmed, so it’s impossible for one of us to use it to sneak up on the others. That helps prevent . . . misunderstandings.”

He stopped at the door that led to his vault and placed his hand against it. Something inside the room clicked, and the door swung open.

“Of course,” he added, “I keep the portal carefully locked away in any event. Better safe than sorry.”

Alice peered around the corner. The dog-spider-thing she remembered from when Isaac had broken in was gone, and if another guardian had replaced it, it wasn’t visible. The shelves full of chests were still there, though, and Geryon went to a corner and picked up one of the smallest lockboxes. It was a solid metal cube, with no visible hinges and only a slight bulge to suggest a lock. Geryon tapped the protrusion with his finger, and the shiny surface rippled like still water broken by a flung pebble. A circle in the top of the box dissolved into thin air, revealing an interior lined with red velvet. A thin book, barely more than a pamphlet, lay inside.

Geryon lifted it out and handed it to Alice, pressing his hands around hers for a moment. His skin was rough, and he smelled of ink and the weird, too-sweet concoction he used for gluing and binding new books.

“I want you to be careful,” he said. “Don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“I thought you said it wouldn’t be dangerous.”

“Assaulting a Reader’s fortress by the front door would be impossible,” he corrected. “With the defenses gone, I said it would not be difficult. But there may still be dangers. Creatures from the books will have found their way into the world, and some of them will be hostile.”

“Ah.”

“And you must watch your fellow apprentices. If any of them attempt to steal books or treasures from the fortress, report them to me, and their master and I will . . . have words.” The old Reader cleared his throat. “I don’t anticipate outright treachery. But every Reader trains his students as he sees fit, and not all of them are as liberal in their approach as I am. Remain alert.”

“Yes, sir.” A thought occurred to Alice. “Will they speak English, sir? If they’re from all over . . .”