The girl led the way this way and that, turning corners and skirting the occasional book-laden table with an ease that spoke eloquently of her familiarity with the place.  After more turns than Vincent could count, she pointed.<br/><br/>"There!  You see?  Now we just have to reach it!"<br/><br/>He could see a door on the far side of a lobby flanked by low railings like great and thorny hedges, with ornamental yet grotesque statues flanking the way out.  There was an air of menace about the polished, blood-dark wood.  Then a sound behind drew his eye.  Behind them, the darkness was swallowing the shelves with grim and inexorable efficiency.<br/><br/>"Run, uncle," the girl cried, lifting her skirts and taking to her heels with no sign of her earlier merry humor.  Vincent could almost glimpse figures in the dark, reaching for him with hands like gnarled branches...