“Not far, I fear,” said Dex, letting go of Alice and turning to face the direction they’d come. Her caryatid armor flashed into existence again.

“We can’t keep running forever,” Alice said, setting the book down. She felt like she was about to drop, and her legs had turned to jelly. “We’ll have to make a stand.” She looked at Jen. “Isaac was supposed to take you through with him.”

“That’s what he told me,” she said, setting her jaw stubbornly. “I told him he could shove it.”

Alice hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Don’t use magic directly on the Ouroborean. And don’t let your creatures get caught; they’ll just get sucked in.”

“That’s what Michael told me.” Jen grinned shakily and raised her hands. Her fingers lengthened, hooking into hard, pointed claws.

“It’s coming,” Dex said.

Alice looked one more time at the shelves where Isaac had gone, then turned back to the shadows of the library. The Ouroborean emerged from them, a deeper darkness threaded with a web of silver. It was still changing shape, growing even taller and longer-limbed, slowly losing the last vestiges of a human form. Its head was a mere lump on its shoulders, and its hands no longer had fingers. The static buzz of its voice rang in her ears.

“I will not be stopped,” it roared. “Not this time.”

Fighting Torment, Alice had been terrified and in pain, but looking at the Ouroborean she felt something worse, something close to despair. Torment, for all his size and power, had been a living, breathing creature. He’d bled when she’d wounded him. The Ouroborean was like a machine, an engine woven of magic, a trip-hammer that would pound away, over and over, until something broke.

Or until it does.

She looked over her shoulder again. Come on, Isaac.

“We are not so different, Alice Creighton. I will eat my fill.” The Ouroborean stalked closer. “And then I will have my revenge on those cowards who locked me away. You know how it feels to want revenge.”

I’m not like you. And I’m not a coward. There was no time left. We have to try. Which meant, probably, that they would all be killed. She thought of Ellen’s dead face, smoke pouring from her eyes and mouth, and swallowed hard.

“Dex,” she said. “Go on the right. Jen and Michael, the left. Just try to keep it from grabbing me—”

The light reflecting off the flagstones took on an orange-yellow tone. A voice like a crackling fire said, “And where do you want me?”

“Flicker!” Alice turned to see the fire-sprite emerging from the narrow crack between the bookshelves. Actinia was just behind him, his blue-tinted hair flaring to white at the tips. They both carried long black spears. “Pyros sent you to help?”

“Pyros said it was too dangerous,” Actinia said. “But we came anyway.”