Helga shook her head. “Even Erdrodr knows better than to enter such a place. Is there no other way? Nowhere else you can find what you need? Our legends speak of monsters imprisoned there, horrors from beyond all the worlds. I do not know if I am worried that you will not return, or that you will.”

“It has to be the Palace,” Alice said. The Infinite Prison is my chance to finally get revenge on Geryon. I’m not going to stop now. “But I will keep your daughter safe and be as cautious as I can, you have my word.”

“Thank you, Reader.” Helga grinned, her scar making it lopsided. “I know well, now, what your word is worth.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

THE LAND BEYOND

ALICE, FLICKER, AND Erdrodr stood in the basement room they’d so nearly reached the night before, with Helga and Byrvorda waiting in the empty doorway. Alice felt a touch of guilt at the sight of the demolished door.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

Helga waved a hand. “It’s nothing. You’re sure you don’t want more food?”

Alice’s pack, depleted by the days in the realm of the fire-sprites, now fairly bulged with provisions. The ice giants’ food—mostly smoked meat and hard bread—was a considerably better match for human physiology than the fire-oil. Flicker’s own supplies had been augmented by a stash of kindling and dead leaves. Erdrodr had a much larger pack with supplies for herself, a collapsible tent made of hide and bone, and the sphere-boat.

“I don’t think I could carry any more,” Alice said.

“We’ll be fine, Mother,” Erdrodr said. She was bouncing in place, eager to be off. Her slate and a sack of charcoal hung from the side of her pack.

“Are you ready?” Alice said to Flicker. “And are you sure—”

“For the last time,” Flicker snapped, “I’m not going back. Pyros told me to take you to the Palace of Glass, and I’m going to deliver you right to the front door.”

“All right.” Alice faced the gate. “Here we go, then.”

The wild portal hung in the air. The ice giants called it a curtain, and Alice could see why; it looked like a cloth painted in shifting rainbow colors, flapping in an invisible wind. According to Helga, there was no special trick to passing through. You walked forward and . . . went.

Well. No percentage in hanging about. Alice gripped the straps of her pack and strode forward. A few steps took her to the threshold, and then one more took her—

—across.