The back of her head tingled as it passed through the glass. Cold hands were on her face, playing over her cheeks, poking at her eyes and the corners of her mouth. Curious fingers traced the pale scar, barely visible now, that the Swarm had left on her cheek during their first encounter.

“Sleep.” The whisper was right in her ear now, cold breath tickling her neck. “Sleep, and dream, behind the glass . . .”

The acorn split. A green shoot wound up from the broken seed, following the path of the crack in the mirror. When it reached the end, it hesitated for a moment, pulsing with the unstoppable energy of life. There was a moment of strain, and then, with a sound like a gunshot, a spiderweb of fractures raced through the mirror. A section of glass fell, shattering on the marble with a merry tinkle.

“What?”

“What?”

“How?”

The hands pulled away from Alice, and she pushed herself forward. She came free of the mirror with an effort and a soft sucking sound, as though she’d been stuck to a bed of taffy. Mirror-Alices raced around the courtyard, painted mouths gaping wide with triangular teeth. The growing tree’s roots burrowed down between two marble slabs, thickening as they reached the soil underneath. The tree shot upward, twisting as it grew, slamming a branch into the neighboring mirror and smashing it into fragments. Glittering shards of glass filled the air.

“No!” The mirror image’s voice rose to a shriek, no longer resembling Alice’s. “No, no, no!”

“Kill her!”

“Kill her!”

Alice stumbled to her feet. The tree smashed another mirror, but the slivers of glass didn’t shatter against the flagstones. They curved through the air instead, homing in on her like a cloud of bees. She snatched up the book and pressed it against her chest, pulling as hard as she could on the Swarm thread to harden her skin. Then she ran, eyes squeezed shut against the slashing fragments, pounding down the marble staircase at a breakneck pace. Behind her, the mirrors shattered, one after another.

“It’s been too long.” Flicker’s voice.

“It has not been that long,” said Erdrodr.

“It’s nearly night.”

“What are you saying? That we should leave her?”

“I’m saying that we should go up there,” Flicker said. “I—”

“The boat!” Alice shouted, as soon as she could manage a breath. She sprinted down the stairway, book clutched tight in one hand. Her clothes hung off her in tatters, sliced to ribbons by flying glass. “Get in the boat!”

“Alice!” Flicker said, getting to his feet. “What—”