Alice found herself wrestling with her feelings. On the one hand she was relieved, as it seemed unlikely she would have to make any decision about Jacob after all. It felt a bit cowardly to simply let Garret or Ellen handle everything, but it wasn’t like they’d given her a choice in the matter. Ashes was right. Geryon sent me here just to . . . show the flag, I suppose, and make sure none of the others get away with anything.

On the other hand, just going along with the group grated, in a way she had a hard time explaining. She’d usually followed the rules, because they were good rules, set down by people who cared for her and knew better than she did. Part of the reason she and her father had gotten along so well was that he’d never demanded anything of her that she couldn’t see the sense in.

She was certain Garret didn’t care for her, and she wasn’t at all sure he knew better than she did. Alice bridled at his cocksure attitude, but she couldn’t see what she could do other than follow. And be extra careful.

And then, on the other other hand—

If I’m going to find out what happened to my father, I can’t just trail behind Garret and Ellen. My best chance is to find a way to talk to Jacob alone, and make him tell me if he knows anything. Or maybe Esau kept some kind of records?

She fixed her eyes on Ellen’s light. Isaac was a shadowy figure, just behind it. And what’s wrong with him, anyway? I know we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms—she found herself unaccountably blushing—but if anything, I should be angry with him! He’s the one who stole the Dragon book.

Maybe that was it, she reflected. He thinks I’m furious with him, so he’s staying away from me. She certainly had every right to be. But this isn’t the time to be petty. We have to work together. When she finally cornered him, she’d have to give him a fair chance to apologize.

Slowly, the constellation of lights ahead grew clearer, flickering on and off in a strange pattern. When they were close enough to see the softer glow of starlight reflecting on stone, it suddenly snapped into focus, and Alice gasped and pulled up short.

It was a castle. But not like any castle Alice had ever seen, even in a book of fairy tales. It was composed of a series of tall, flat-roofed towers, connected by long walkways. They spread out, up and down, staircases, ramps, and slides connecting each tower to its neighbors and other, more distant towers in a dozen ways. The paths curled over and under one another, crisscrossing like the web of an insane spider cast in stone.