“That’s my own business,” she said. Her anger flared a little. This is what I need to do to beat Geryon. I don’t have to justify myself. “All I need is for one of you to guide me there.”

“Even that is a great deal. Those who venture so far from the village rarely return. But . . .” Pyros shook his head and sighed. “I suppose a Reader must know what she’s doing.”

Actinia returned, bearing Alice’s torn, makeshift pack. Alice rooted around until she came up with some hard crackers, which she dipped in the jug of water. The sprite watched in fascination as Alice chewed and swallowed.

“And you enjoy that?” Actinia said. “It doesn’t hurt?”

Drinking water probably did look odd, Alice thought, to a creature made of flames. She nodded, her mouth full of cracker. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“Actinia,” Pyros said quietly, “please go down the hall and ask Flicker to join us. Then you are dismissed. Join the feast.”

“I can’t stay?” Actinia said. “I wanted to talk to the Reader.”

“Go. Now.”

The young sprite left again. Pyros looked after him fondly.

“He doesn’t seem to hate me as much as Flicker does,” Alice said, opening a tin of ham.

“He is . . .” Pyros paused, waving a hand vaguely. “It is difficult to explain, to a human. You have two sparks, yes? A ‘mother’ and a ‘father’?”

Alice nodded, tearing apart strips of meat and sucking the juices from her fingers.

“But when you are first kindled, you are . . . blank.”

“Blank?”

“You have no memories. No thoughts.” Pyros shook his head. “It is difficult. I do not know very much about humans.”

“You mean when we’re babies?” Alice said. “I don’t suppose babies remember much, no.”

“It is not that way for us. Each spark passes memories on to his kindling. A fraction of himself, something he chooses to preserve. The new kindling knows these things from the very beginning, as part of his being. Some memories have been passed down since before the time of the Readers.”

Alice had an image of a line of candles, each one lit from the next, passing the flame on and on. She nodded hesitantly.

“Each line, each lineage has its own notion of what to pass on,” Pyros said. “Practical things, skills and knowledge. Treasured memories and joys. Grudges. Some let the oldest memories fade, and others keep that flame bright. Flicker’s spark gave him some of our oldest memories, from the days when our people roamed free. It makes him . . . quick to anger.”

“What about Actinia?” Alice said, fascinated.