Page 89 of The Dungeon Book

“Are you dying?”

“That,” said Aldebara, “rather depends on you.”

“Orphir made you.”

Orphir was a human name, and it shone out of the yelping and growling of the Dungeon Tongue like a glimmering candle flame in the dark. On hearing it, one of the guards glanced at his compatriot, then slipped out of the door. He marched very smartly, and bowed formally to take his leave of the princess, but as soon as the door was closed and propriety observed, he broke into a sprint. The clatter of his boots on the stone was very loud.

“We do not have much time,” said Aldebara. “He has gone to fetch the Chancellor.”

“Tell Orphir to stop attacking the Dungeon,” said Bait. “Tell him I’ll stay and help you if he lets everyone else go.”

“Yes, the Chancellor made me. I am his triumph – and his instrument. In bringing me home, he won the king’s trust and an appointment as the royal physician; he has parleyed that into mastery of the kingdom. He intends to rule through me when our father is gone. All this I know. I know, too, that he has brought ruin upon the kingdom in his folly. He thinks himself cleverer than everyone else, even as all his schemes fall apart.” She coughed, a terrible racking cough all through her thin frame. “But still, I would like to live. Even if it is only a shadow of a life, it is mine, and I would like to keep it.”

“I don’t care about the surface,” said Bait, “or being Aldebara. You can have all that. But Orphir’s broken the Rules. That’s not right.”

“I rather do care about the kingdom, and I have grown used to being Aldebara. If I could take those as freely as you offer them, I would, but the keeping of those things is not within my power. It is in Orphir’s.”

As if summoned by a spell, Orphir arrived at that moment, bursting in the door without knocking. I skulked in the corridor with Nala, bobbing my fresh head, trying to catch a glimpse of Bait without letting her see me.

“You should not be out of bed, your highness,” said Orphir. “Nala should not have let our guest disturb you.”

“But we were having such an interesting conversation,” you replied, “I feel quite revived.” I remember overhearing that, and laughing.

“Overstressed, overstimulated, overexposed. Back to bed,” ordered Orphir. “And as for you—”

How would you describe the sound he made then? I remember when he stabbed me, it was in the back, and I was so surprised that I only made a modest noise. Sort of “ah”, as if it was a thing I’d long expected.

Orphir should have expected this moment, too. Bait had a long history of biting and stabbing. If the princess’s breakfast knife had been steel, Bait might have inflicted some damage. Instead, the bone blade splintered against one of Orphir’s chains of office, and she succeeded only in gouging flesh. Not a deep wound, but a painful one, hence the sound.

The guards grabbed Bait and dragged her from your room. Nala ran after them, remonstrating, urging them to be gentle.

Orphir – I saw him tend to his wound, and say a few words to you. I’m told he was your tutor for a few years, before he wormed his way into higher and higher offices in court. I suspect he was a better teacher than I – he was always clever, and more diligent in his studies. I am absolutely certain that you were a more attentive student than Bait. You are not the sort to get distracted by the curious shape of a stone, nor could you go off wandering with mischievous goblins when the mood took you.

I am certain you were the better student.

But Orphir learned nothing from you, and I learned from Bait.

This is her story, not mine! Forgive me for wandering. Orphir put you back to bed, gave you sleeping potions and tinctures and extracts and wove spells of slumber, told Nala to tend to you, then shut the door. Let me tell you what happened on the far side.

The guards held Bait as she thrashed and kicked. I lurked. I tried not to be there. Had I the power to work a spell of invisibility, I would have.

Orphir drew his knife. Seeing that, the guards forced Bait to her knees. One pulled back her head, exposing her throat.

“No!” I shouted.

An embarrassingly long time later, I remembered I had limbs again and could have done more than shout. But my interruption was enough. Orphir turned to me.

“Enough coddling the idiot child. Explain to her what her options are at this point.”

I made a noise in my throat.

I wasn’t used to having a throat.

“Bait . . .”

She looked at me, and I lost all my courage in those fierce eyes.

“Oh,” she said, “it’s you.”