Having come so far, she decided to climb one more flight, and take a look at the castle from the top of the tower. The steps led up to a circular roof surrounded by an iron railing. To one side, the central dome loomed, surrounded by towers and their wild web of bridges and looking as far away as ever. There was still no sign of Isaac.

What happened to him? Something was badly wrong, she could feel it. She wanted to track him down, to grab him and make him tell her what it was, but her pride wouldn’t allow it. Why should I go running after him? The image of Garret and Ellen cuddling together on the level below sprang to mind, unbidden, and Alice felt herself blushing again. She turned away from the stairs and grabbed the railing, the smooth metal cold under her fingers. It’s not like that at all.

She stood there for some time, staring out at the castle without really seeing it. When she finally turned around, fingers stiff from gripping the railing too tightly, she discovered she was no longer alone on the platform.

“You don’t know how hard it is.”

There was a boy standing there. He was taller than Alice, but so thin, he was painful to look at, as though he hadn’t eaten for days. His brown hair was a ratty mess, and his cheeks were sallow and sunken, giving his face the look of a skull. Blue eyes stared out at her from deep, dark sockets.

Beside him there was another shape that Alice could hardly make out. It was inky black, not the glossy, furry black of a black cat but black like a hole cut out of the world. She could only tell it was there at all by its silhouette against the stars, until it turned its head toward her. Then a few details became visible—long ivory fangs, yellowed and sharp at the points, and a broad, canine tongue the color of old blood. Above them was a pair of eyes, as blue white as river ice, the pupils huge circles in the dim light.

It was a dog—not a dog, Alice thought, a wolf—the size of a horse. In the depths of its gaze she felt a frightening intelligence, and she was forcibly reminded of the first time she’d met Ending, staring into her yellow cat-slitted eyes in the shadows of the library.

Chapter Eleven: Torment

CHAPTER ELEVEN

TORMENT

THE BOY SHOWED no awareness of the wolf at his shoulder. He gave Alice a hesitant smile, and waved one hand weakly.

“Hi,” he said. “We thought . . . I thought . . . we’d have a visit. You know. Talk about things. We don’t think . . .” He trailed off, as though he’d lost his place, and shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s hard to remember. What’s your name?”