Because I think you’re one of them. Alice took a deep breath. A labyrinthine. You can sense the labyrinth, and Ending called you her brother. When Torment called her his sister, I thought—

I see. Very logical.

Is it true?

. . . yes. We are kin.

So do you think Torment singled me out because of my bond with you?

Perhaps.

In that case, Isaac would probably be safe as well. Alice’s fear eased a little more. Isn’t there anything you can do to help? Can you . . . fight him, or show me the way out of here?

I cannot.

Alice drew herself up tighter against the tree trunk. Is it because I’m not strong enough to use your power?

It has nothing to do with you. The matter is between myself and my siblings, and I am under no obligation to explain it. Suffice to say I cannot intervene. I have said too much already.

A spark of anger surfaced in Alice’s mind. Then it doesn’t matter to you if we all die?

I do not believe Torment means to kill you. Indeed, he saved your life when you fell from the bridge. As for the others, they are not my concern.

I suppose you’ll still be safe in your book.

As you would be safe in a prison cell. The Dragon’s mental voice became a snarl. Spend a thousand years locked in irons before you presume to lecture me.

Then it was gone. Alice breathed out and relaxed her grip on the thread, leaning her head back against the rough bark.

An invitation. She stared down the broad avenue at the dome. I’m supposed to just follow along? At the bridge she’d been reduced to a bystander. Now she was apparently to be a passenger following along a set of rails.

She got to her feet, dusted herself off, and gave the dome a vicious glare. All right. You asked for it.

A few minutes later, a distant scream drifted across Esau’s fortress. Alice stopped in her tracks, straining to listen, but it wasn’t repeated. It had been a girl’s voice, though, and as far as she knew, there were only three human girls in the fortress at the moment.

The domed keep was just ahead, but Alice turned away from it and ran in the direction of the voice. She followed it down a narrow, curving bridge that arched through the night air for a considerable distance before ending in another tower, pausing every so often to listen. Another scream, louder, told her she was at least headed in the right direction.

She reached the end of the bridge, and the tower loomed ahead of her. She could see another bridge, two stories up, so she ducked through the archway and up the familiar spiral staircase, two steps at a time. The doorway out was right where she expected, and she ran through to find herself—