Apparently that hadn’t been included in Flicker’s inherited memories. Alice grinned, thinking of Ashes and his opinion on the subject. “It’s a bit like . . . fluffy ice, I suppose? It falls from the sky like rain and builds up in mounds. I think you would hate it.”

“I think you’re right.” Flicker smiled for a moment, then replaced it with a scowl as soon as he realized what he was doing. He gestured to a larger doorway up ahead. “This is what we’re looking for. It’s the quickest way to the surface, but it’s a little bit of a climb.” He raised an eyebrow. “I assume a Reader can handle it?”

“I can handle it,” Alice said, all too aware of the ticking in her pocket. She tested her threads and found them near to hand. She didn’t think she was quite back to full strength, but she felt recovered enough for a little exertion.

Flicker led the way into a large tunnel, different from the others. It was rougher, wider, and went upward at close to a forty-five-degree angle, like the eaves of a house. The slope was strewn with bits of rock and glass. Flicker picked his way forward, moving from boulder to boulder and scrambling over the smooth patches. Alice took a deep breath, called on Spike’s strength, and followed.

It went on for longer than she’d expected, but she realized she had no idea how deep underground they were. The first hint that they were approaching the top was a change in the air. The tunnels had a faint sulfurous smell that Alice had stopped noticing, but the new breeze carried a different taste. It was cold and dry, and smelled of ice.

There wasn’t much light, though. Alice guessed it was night, then wondered if there were days and nights here. Assumptions. I can’t make too many assumptions.

“Almost there,” Flicker said, pausing in the lee of a large boulder for a rest. He was breathing hard, the fire in his hair pulsing raggedly. He looked at Alice with a little more respect. With the dinosaur’s borrowed strength, she’d strolled up the steep slope as easily as walking a garden path. “A bit more, and we’ll be out.”

“Then what?”

“Then we try and find the gate.”

“Try?” Alice raised an eyebrow of her own. “I thought you remembered where it was.”

“I remember where it was hundreds of years ago. The gate won’t have moved, and I can guess where to go by looking at the mountains, but it’s not exact.” He shrugged. “We’ll find it. The question is what happens when we get there.”

“Why? What’s at the gate?”