“Well, but why would You create something that had the power to hurt You? Or any of Your creatures? Why don’t You help us? Do You have any idea how much we hurt? How much we suffer?”

A stern glance. “I know all things, daughter.”

“Well, okay, then know this.” Janet put her hands on her hips. She had struck an unexpected vein of bitterness in herself, and it was running away with her. “We human beings are unhappy all the time. We hate ourselves and we hate each other and sometimes we wish You or Whoever had never created us or this shit-ass world or any other shit-ass world. Do You realize that? So next time You might think about not doing such a half-assed job.”

A ringing silence followed her outburst. The torches guttered against the walls. They’d left streaks of black soot all the way up to the domed ceiling. It was true, what she was saying. It made him angry. But there was something about it that made him nervous too.

“You are incensed, daughter.” Ember’s eyes were full of kindness.

“I’m not Your daughter.” She crossed her arms. “And yeah, no shit I’m incensed.”

The great old ram sighed deeply. A tear formed in His great liquid eye, spilled over, and was absorbed into the golden wool on his cheek. In spite of himself, Quentin thought of the proud Indian in the old anti-littering commercials. From behind him Josh leaned into Quentin’s shoulder and whispered: “Dude! She made Ember cry!”

“The tide of evil is at the full,” the ram was saying, a politician staying relentlessly on message. “But now that you have come, the tide will turn.”

But it wouldn’t. Suddenly Quentin knew it. It all came to him in one sick flash.

“You’re here against Your will,” he said. “You’re a prisoner down here. Aren’t You?”

This wasn’t over after all.

“Human, there is so much you do not understand. You are still but a child.”

Quentin ignored him. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why You’re down here? Somebody put You down here, and You can’t get out. This wasn’t a quest, this was a rescue mission.”

Next to him Alice had both her hands over her mouth.

“Where’s Umber?” she asked. “Where is Your brother?”

Nobody moved. The ram’s long muzzle and black lips were still and unreadable.

“Mmmm.” Eliot rubbed his chin, calmly assessing. “It is possible.”

“Umber’s dead, isn’t He?” Alice said dully. “This place isn’t a tomb, it’s a prison.”

“Or a trap,” Eliot said.

“Human children, listen to Me,” Ember said. “There are Laws that go far beyond anything in your understanding. We—”

“I’ve heard pretty much enough about my understanding,” Janet snapped.