“Fat lot of good you are,” Alice muttered. She leaned back against the pile of books, which shifted slightly under her weight. A small volume with one cover torn off slithered down and bumped against the back of her head.

I’ll figure something out, she told herself. There was a gnawing, jittery feeling in the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t banish, no matter how she tried. Ashes told me we were going to die when we fell into the Swarm book. And Isaac said the same thing when we fought the Dragon. We’ll get through this too.

Somehow . . .

Alice opened her eyes.

She hadn’t intended to sleep, but exhaustion had crept up on her. There was no indication of how long it had been—the night sky visible out the doorway was the same, and the flickering torches still burned at intervals around the walls. Her legs ached abominably, with the bone-deep feeling that warns of aches to come. Nevertheless, she struggled to her feet, causing another small landslide of books.

Dex and Soranna were both asleep too. The others were nowhere to be seen. Alice circled the book-pile, in case Isaac had nodded off on the other side, but there was no sign of him. She looked at the spiral staircase, sighed, and started to climb.

I have to try and convince them. One more time. Even Garret must see that we can’t keep this up forever. And if she happened to find Isaac dozing off, then she could pin him down and demand to know why he was avoiding her. This is getting ridiculous. Could I have done something to upset him? He was the one who trapped me with the Siren song and stole the Dragon’s book!

There was no one on the next level or the one after that. Alice shook her head and kept climbing, trying to force some life into her aching thighs.

On the next floor—just below the roof, she judged—she heard the quiet sound of breathing under the low crackle of the torches. Thinking it might be Isaac, Alice padded around the ubiquitous mound of books as quietly as she could.

Instead she found Garret, leaning back against the pile with his head tipped back and his nose in the air. He looked so silly Alice almost giggled. His cloak flared out to one side, and it took her a moment to realize that it was Ellen underneath it, pressed up tight against him. Her head rested lightly on his shoulder, and his hand was snugged around her waist.

Cheeks turning beet red, Alice retreated as quietly as she had come, back to the stairway. She shook her head. I could have sworn she couldn’t stand him. They do nothing but argue. It was, she thought, a very odd way to behave.