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Nick shook his head, and the man drew back from him.

Joan had always known that family was a big deal in the monster world. But the man’s reaction made her wonder if she really did understand it. His expression was one of sympathy and horror combined.

‘Can he go in?’ Joan said. The man hesitated. He still had more questions, apparently. On a hunch, Joan pressed: ‘Is he going to be allowed in? Even though he doesn’t have a family name?’ It worked. The man grimaced. ‘Just because he doesn’t have a family power—’ Joan started.

‘Yeah, all right, all right,’ the man said quickly; he didn’t want to hear any more. ‘Welcome to the Wyvern Inn.’ He was already backing up, wanting to return to a more comfortable task.

He couldn’t go yet, though. ‘Wait,’ Joan said. ‘Where’s the door?’

‘What do you mean?’ the man said. ‘You’re in front of it.’

‘This office door?’ Joan said, confused. But the man was already walking away.

Joan turned back to the glass doors. Inside, the office workers ambled up the staircase, sipping coffee and chatting sleepily. They looked less like monsters than ever.

‘Maybe it’s on another floor,’ Nick suggested. The haze in his voice was already gone.

Joan turned back to him fast. ‘Are you all right? I didn’t know that would happen.’ She and Aaron hadn’t been challenged at the Serpentine Inn; she’d assumed all inns were the same.

‘I’m fine,’ Nick said. ‘What did you call it? The Griffith power?’

‘He was from the Griffith family,’ Joan said, nodding. ‘I—I’ve never met any of them before.’

‘It wasn’t as strong as the power in the courtyard,’ Nick said. ‘I think I could have pushed his mind out if I’d had breakfast.’ He smiled. Joan could tell he was mostly trying to reassure her.

Joan tried to smile back. It hit her again that she hadn’t been able to make a dent in the Griffith power. Nick had resisted it, and his mind had stayed sharp. He’d been quick on his feet. He might not be the hero anymore, but maybe he still had some abilities. Maybe they were innate.

He stepped closer to her, and his dark hair fell across his brow. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

He was so big, his body so sheltering, that Joan still had that stupid feeling of safety when she was with him. She looked up at him. ‘I should be saying that to you.’

‘We can say it to each other.’ He held out his hand, and Joan reached for him instinctively, needing the physical contact; the confirmation that he was still alive. She hadn’t expected him to be in danger before he’d even entered the inn.

‘Ready?’ she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. He nodded.

Joan took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

She gasped as the interior revealed itself. Distantly, she heard Nick make a sound too. They both stared.

The inside of the building didn’t match the view through the window. The lobby they’d seen was gone. All the office workers were gone.

Now, people sat at tables covered in white linens, chatting around towering tiers of sandwiches and scones and tiny cakes with sugared violets and roses. The diners wore crinoline and Victorian suits, flapper dresses, and eighties fluorescents. They were time travellers.

And above them all, hanging in midair, was a glass wyvern: a bipedal, winged creature with a dragon’s head and two clawed feet.

This was the Wyvern Inn.

Joan was back in the world of monsters—with Nick.

nine

‘How is this possible?’ Nick whispered. ‘We saw an office lobby from the outside.’

‘I don’t know,’ Joan said. This was nothing like the yellow-walled room they’d seen through the windows. The Serpentine Inn had felt like an old-fashioned pub, but this had the atmosphere of a fancy café serving afternoon tea. Other than the glass wyvern, the decor was muted.

There were at least a hundred monsters in the room, eating at linen-covered tables, sipping tea and champagne. Hathaway animals wandered underfoot: a sleek ferret, a black cat, a foxlike dog.

Joan turned a slow circle. ‘I can’t understand—’ She stopped, staring at the windows.