Think. Think! Magic doesn’t seem to work; it swallowed the fire and the ice without a problem. It sucks up our creatures. Spike had at least stunned it, though. So maybe . . .

Alice grabbed for Spike’s thread again, but it was as though the creature’s touch had coated the thread in oil. She had to bear down in order to wrap it around herself, strength flowing into her limbs. As the Garret-thing got closer, she bent and picked up one of Mr. Wurms’ benches, a solid length of wood a good eight feet long. She stepped clear of the table, wound up, and swung the bench at his head.

Without Spike, she couldn’t even have lifted it, but with him, the wood whistled through the air like a baseball bat. Garret put his hand up to block, but as strong and fast as he was, he didn’t have the weight, and Alice’s impromptu club slammed him off his feet. He skidded along the floor in another cloud of dust, and before he’d come to a stop, Alice brought the bench down vertically, like a lumberjack splitting a log. The far end broke with a mighty crack, the blow tearing away most of Garret’s scalp. Alice tried another swing, but this time Garret grabbed the splintered end of the bench and twisted, ripping it from her hands.

“A good effort,” the creature buzzed. “I knew you were smarter than the others.”

The thing got to its feet. More than that, Alice realized as she backed up toward the table and the second bench. It was growing. Soon it was close to Mr. Black’s size, limbs thickening, chest widening. What was left of its disguise split and fell away, leaving only darkness.

No, Alice thought, not just darkness. There was something else there, a web of silver threaded through the black, very fine and very faint. It caught the light as the thing moved, gleaming now and then like stars twinkling in an overcast sky.

“But not smart enough to know better,” the thing said. “Not smart enough to realize that when you open a door to put something in a prison, you might let something out.”

She grabbed the second bench and swung it in a roundhouse arc. The creature held out one arm to block, and the wood shattered against it. There was a horrible static buzz that might have been laughter.

Alice dropped the amputated stump of the bench, turned, and ran after the others.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

THE OUROBOREAN

SHE TUGGED ON the fabric of the labyrinth to catch up with the others, then pulled all five of them across the library, leaving the Garret-thing behind. Something was wrong with the labyrinth itself, though—it was flattening, growing still wherever the creature walked, as though it were being stapled to a board. The effect was spreading fast. Ending said the labyrinth was being damaged by something.