“Get in the boat!” she shouted, jumping down the last few steps. Erdrodr had already stepped aboard, and Alice took Flicker’s hand and dragged him over the side. The little craft rocked dangerously, and Flicker went still, his hair flaring red. But Erdrodr already had the spear in her hand, steadying them against the dock and then shoving them out onto the river. A quick slash cut the rope, and the current took them.

The mountain seemed to writhe, mist swirling with a thousand flying splinters of glass that shattered against the marble columns and sliced the branches from the trees. Alice watched them curve and dance in the air above the dock, shredding the surface of the water to a froth.

“Alice?” Flicker said. “Are you all right?”

He only uses my name after I nearly get killed. “Can the shards reach us?”

Erdrodr peered over the back of the boat. “I do not think so. We are leaving them behind.”

“Good.” Alice let her eyes close, squeezing the book tight.

The cover tingled against her fingers, and there was a faint sound, like a tiny crackle of static.

CHAPTER TWENTY

FAREWELLS

ALICE WASN’T SURE exactly when she’d fallen asleep. She’d fought it as long as she could, but somewhere on the long, dark trip downstream, fatigue had caught up with her. The mirror-things had been draining her life, sucking her down to a husk before pulling her into the mirror to do . . . who knew what. Her dreams were dark, full of toothy grins and huge, slitted eyes, and a static buzz that seemed to fill the world.

She woke up in a bed, which was a definite improvement. It was in a stone room, with blue-green lanterns hanging on the walls. Even without these clues Alice would have guessed she was back in the giants’ fortress; the bed was big enough to sleep half a dozen human adults.

When she sat up, she found that she wore only her underthings, which had been mended with surprisingly delicate stitches. Underneath, the slashes she’d gotten from the flying glass were sealed up under what felt like scabs made of ice, the cold pleasantly numbing the wounds underneath. The rest of her clothes were neatly folded by her feet, with The Infinite Prison and the silver watch sitting on top of them.

Erdrodr was sitting in a chair beside the bed, charcoal in hand, focused on her sketch pad. Alice cleared her throat, and the giant girl looked up.

“You’re awake!” She set her slate aside. “How do you feel?”

“Remarkably well,” Alice said. Her mind felt wonderfully clear. She leaned forward and clicked open the watch. Thirty-six hours left! “I’ve been asleep for two days?”

“You weren’t injured that badly,” Erdrodr said. “But you wouldn’t wake up.”