Leaving the swarmers behind for the moment, she pushed the study door open and went inside. Geryon sat at his desk, examining a book by the light of an oil lamp. He looked up as she came in, and gave her a brief smile absolutely devoid of humor.

“Hello, Alice,” he said. “You look like you’ve been in the wars.”

The ice giants had stitched up the holes in her coat, but there was no disguising the fact that it had been six days since Alice had washed, or changed her clothes, or slept in her own bed. Her hair was a tangled rat’s nest, thick with dirt and ash, and her skin was smudged with grime and sweat. The ice-bandages had melted, leaving her mottled with half-healed cuts and bruises.

“Mr. Wurms tells me you went off into the library,” the old Reader went on, glancing back at the book on his table. “Would you care to explain yourself?”

“It’s a long story, sir,” Alice said stiffly, letting a little bit of her nervousness into her voice. He expects me to be afraid, after all.

At the same time, she looked around for the red book that matched the one Ending had given her, but she couldn’t see anything that seemed close. There were hundreds of books in the room, piled against the walls and tossed carelessly into corners. If it’s buried under something, I’ll never get to it!

“I daresay,” Geryon said. “I’m listening.”

Calm down. It has to be easy to get to, if it’s such an important defense. He wouldn’t leave it under a pile. Geryon was now looking down at his desk, and Alice risked turning her head. There it was, behind her, on a side table just beside the door. She took a step sideways, putting her body between it and Geryon.

“I heard a rumor,” she said. “That there was a lost book on the other side of one of the portals.”

Geryon looked up. “Heard a rumor from whom?” he snapped.

“Isaac.” The lie came easily. I just have to keep him talking . . .

Behind her, under her careful mental direction, the four swarmers crept into the room with the trapped book on their backs. The rest of the swarmers followed, a flowing black mass, moving slowly so their claws wouldn’t catch on the carpet.

“Isaac told me about it,” Alice invented. “He said that he’d eavesdropped on his master trying to figure out how to get to it through one of our portals.”

“And you offered to get it for him?”

“No, sir!” Alice said. “Please believe me. I was going to get it for you.”

The swarmers had maneuvered the book to the base of the side table. Two of them climbed up one side of it, claws scratching as they dug into the wood. Alice pretended to cough to cover the sound.