Alice closed her eyes. The anger that had been born three months ago in Esau’s fortress, when she’d watched the Gideon sink in Torment’s magic mirror, had lodged like a hot coal behind her breastbone. It could be banked and quiescent, or flare to sudden, painful life, but it was always there, as impossible to ignore as a broken tooth. Now it burned bright, and her chest felt tight and hot.

“He has to pay for what he did,” she said. “And I’m the only one who can make him. If I give up, he’ll just get away with it.”

“I know!” Isaac said. He sounded miserable. “I know. You think I don’t hate Anaxomander for what he did to my brother? But . . .”

“But what?”

“What can you actually do?” Isaac said. “Geryon’s too strong to fight.”

“I’m not just going to attack him,” Alice said, anger flaring a little hotter. “Ending is helping me learn Writing, so I can craft my own magical books. She says that’s where a Reader gets her true power.”

In truth, it was something Alice had worried about herself, alone in her bedroom at night. Writing was all well and good, but it went so slowly. No spell she’d tried to Write had ever worked properly, although she thought she was finally getting close. More to the point, even if she mastered the rudiments of it, she couldn’t see how that would help her make Geryon answer for his crimes. He’s been building his power for thousands of years. How can I catch up?

“Ending.” Isaac’s thoughts had gone in a different direction. “Do you trust her?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“She’s a labyrinthine,” Isaac said. “Who knows why they do anything? Torment tried to kill us all.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” Alice said, a little more harshly than she’d intended. “But Ending has always helped me.”

“That doesn’t mean she always will.”

The Dragon had warned Alice against Ending as well, before it had gone to sleep. She shook her head. “What else am I supposed to do? She’s the only ally I’ve got.”

There was a pause.

“Against Geryon, I mean,” Alice said. “I’m sorry. I know you’re on my side too. But—”

“It’s all right.” Isaac stood up, dug in one of his coat’s many pockets, and handed her a roll of clean white bandage. “Here.”

“Thank you.” Alice stood as well. She tried to catch his eye, but he avoided her gaze. “I shouldn’t have—”

“I said it’s fine,” Isaac said, a little too quickly. “I understand. I’ll go check on the walls.”

Before she could answer, he left, sliding out between the leafy branches. Alice pulled her shirt up and wound the bandage around her midsection a few times, then tied a knot to hold it in place.