Flicker looked over his shoulder, his expression pained. Since he’d decided she wasn’t about to attack him, a kind of arrogant disdain had replaced his fear, as though he could hardly be bothered to talk to her. Alice could have understood a little irritation—after all, she was the intruder here—but this seemed uncalled for. He could at least be polite.

“He’s my friend,” the fire-sprite said, after a pause long enough to be insulting. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Alice wanted to argue but decided to let it pass. Instead she said, “If this area is abandoned, what were the two of you doing here?”

“Tracking the bluechill.” He slammed the butt of his spear on the ground irritably. “We would have found it too, if you hadn’t gotten in the way.”

“I’m sorry,” Alice said. “I expect you’ll get another chance to catch it.”

Flicker pulled up short and rounded on her, his red eyes blazing a bright hue. Yellow streaks flickered and danced in his mesmerizing, ever-shifting hair, as if responding to his emotions. His voice had a strange undertone, a crackling like the roar of a distant fire.

“The bluechill is a monster,” he said. “It killed three people last night and hurt a lot more. I expect I’ll get another chance to catch it, yes, the next time it gets hungry. Assuming it doesn’t pick me for dinner.”

Ishi growled, picking up on Flicker’s mood.

“I’m sorry,” Alice said. “I didn’t know—”

“Why should you?” Flicker snapped. “You’re a Reader. You’re just here to collect your precious tribute.”

“I’m not—”

But the fire-sprite had already turned away, stomping around a corner with the dog-thing at his heels. Alice followed hurriedly, and they entered another long, downward-sloping corridor. The air grew perceptibly warmer as they went along, and at the far end a metal door was set into the rock. Another fire-sprite, tall and broad-shouldered, stood beside it with a black spear in his hand.

“I lost the bluechill,” Flicker said, by way of introduction. “But I found the Reader. Pyros will want to see her.”

“He wants to see you too,” the guard said, staring openly at Alice.

Flicker muttered something under his breath, a sound like the sharp pop of a log on the hearth. “Come on, then, Reader. This way.”

“My name is Alice,” said Alice. “Not Reader.”

Flicker didn’t respond, and the guard dragged the door open with a creaking of old hinges. Alice followed the boy through, into the village of the fire-sprites.