She hit the gap at a run, scraping her shoulder on the wood, feeling the familiar queasy stretching as she went from the library to the strange space where the book’s world had leaked through. From the inside, the bookshelves were enormous stone monoliths, so tall, they blocked out the sky, ringing a clearing and a small pond, surrounded by dense jungle. This was where Alice left her acorns to charge with energy, in the raging torrent of raw living power that leaked from the book sitting by the side of the pond.

“Head that way,” Alice said. “Over toward the waterfall.”

Dex nodded. Alice paused in the center of the clearing, listening to the distant hooting of strange birds, the crash of water, and the buzz of insects. She waited.

It didn’t take long. One of the stone monoliths shook, shifted, and began to fall outward, making a sound like a collapsing mountain. The Ouroborean stood in the gap, where it had pulled a bookshelf over, and now the place where the two worlds met was a raw, eye-twisting wound that made Alice look away.

“You think you can hide from me?”

The tree-sprite popped into being at her call, a slim, green-skinned creature only half her size. At her mental direction, it scampered into the jungle, growing a thick layer of bark over itself like armor as it scrambled up one of the swaying trees. Moments later, branches twisted like living things and lashed out at the Ouroborean as it came on through the underbrush. They wrapped around it, squeezing hard enough to crack granite, pulling its limbs in opposite directions in an effort to tear it apart.

But wherever it touched the monster, the vegetation started to wither. All around, death spread, first through the grass and then into the foliage. Tree trunks toppled, pitted and rotten, and the Ouroborean easily ripped free of the dying husks. The tree-sprite fell back, sending more trees into the fray, but it was obviously a losing battle.

Keep it here as long as you can, Alice told the tree-sprite. She grabbed the portal-book—she couldn’t bear to leave it to be devoured—and squeezed past the great stones to emerge between shelves in the library. Dex grabbed her hand and they ran together, while behind them the jungle snapped and cracked as it died.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

ROLLING THE DICE

ALICE FELT THE tree-sprite get sucked into the Ouroborean’s bottomless maw. She stumbled, and only Dex’s grip kept her on her feet as a wave of light-headedness swept over her.

Nearly there. Michael was waiting by the shelves, guarding the portal to the fire-sprite’s world. To Alice’s surprise, so was Jen. The girl looked a little wobbly, but she was on her feet. There was no sign of Isaac.

“He’s not back yet?” Alice said.

“Not yet,” Michael said, fumbling for his glasses. “How far behind is it?”