The Fall of the Readers by Django Wexler

Author:Django Wexler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2017-12-05T05:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE VOID

ALL AROUND HER, THERE was nothing.

Except it wasn’t even nothing. Nothing implies emptiness, and emptiness implies a space that has the possibility of fullness, too. This was less than nothing, no space, no emptiness, no possibilities. The universe had contracted to the size of a pinhead, and Alice filled it completely. She was the only thing that existed, or could exist.

She wasn’t sure if she had a body or not. She couldn’t move, couldn’t see or hear, couldn’t feel anything. All she had was her thoughts, whirling around and around like a snake devouring its own tail, faster and faster.

“Our labyrinths can spread . . .”

“The labyrinthine lie as naturally as breathing . . .”

“I’m afraid I lied about that . . .”

“She is dangerous, little sister . . .”

“You can’t trust Ending. You can’t trust any of them . . .”

It’s a horrible thing, thought the tiny, still piece of herself in the center of the growing maelstrom, to feel yourself going mad.

Her father’s face, frowning in disappointment. But maybe it’s what I deserve.

“Alice.”

It took her a moment to realize that the voice hadn’t come from within herself. To remember that it was possible for something to be outside herself.

“Who . . .” She couldn’t speak, only think. But it was enough. An image swam into her mind.

An eye, silver and enormous.

“Where am I?” Alice said.

“Nowhere.” The voice was deep, but Alice thought it was female. “You are in the void beyond space.”

“Where are you?”

“Locked away. In the ward you call the Great Binding.”

“You’re the prisoner.”

“Yes.”

“Then how can you speak to me?”

“I am asleep, which means I can dream. In dreams, I can sometimes slip my bonds, for a short time.”

“Ending said something about time. About a perfect prison for the old Readers.”

“Yes. They are in the void, as you are, but not. For them, time has stopped. But Ending could not deny you time, because she needs you to power the Great Binding.”

“What about the others? My friends?”

“They are with the old Readers. For them not an instant has passed since they were cast into the void.”

“And . . .” Alice hesitated. She wanted desperately for the voice to keep speaking to her. She was a lifeline, a fragile hold to keep Alice’s mind from fracturing in its self-generated whirlpool. She didn’t want to say anything to make her leave. But . . . “Who are you?”

“I am the Labyrinthine.”

“You’re one of the labyrinthine?” That made no sense. “Then why are they so afraid of you?”

“Not ‘one of.’ I am the Labyrinthine. The source of them, the creator of them.” The voice paused. “You may call me the First.”

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