LAND AND DELPHI STOOD AT THE CENTRE OF A long-abandoned cell in the dungeons underneath the castle arena. Their hands were shackled behind their backs and they were face to face, as far away as they could be, from its damp, rat-infested walls. In the corners, rancid pools of water had collected, their surfaces speckled with dead insects. They glanced at the door and its newly welded bolts and locks.

“They can’t have just left us here,” said Oland. “They’ll have to come back for us. And when they do…”

“When they do,” said Delphi, “I’ll…”

“You’ll…”

Delphi began to rotate the cuff that had been locked on to her wrist and was attached to a chain in the wall.

“I forgot,” said Oland. “I forgot your… flexible bones.”

Now that Delphi knew the truth about who – or what – she really was, her bones disgusted her. They were not bones any more, she knew. They were just cartilage. She had always thought that being flexible was an exotic gift… not an abomination.

“The Craven Lodge could just leave us here,” said Delphi. “Who would care? They could leave us here to rot. They want you dead. And I’m no one to them, just a girl you met along the way.” She pulled her hand free from the cuff and began to work on her left hand. “Or worse,” she said, “they have discovered that I’m Chancey the Gold’s daughter… and that’s all the more reason for them to want me dead too.”

“That won’t happen,” said Oland. “I won’t let that happen.”

Delphi pulled her left hand free. “I won’t either,” she said, smiling.

The door rattled, and rattled again. Delphi grabbed her chains and hid her hands behind her back. The bolts were unlocked. It was Viande who pushed his way in.

“Welcome home,” he said to Oland, and laughed. Then he turned to Delphi. His face lit up. He leaned in to her, his lips nauseatingly wet, his breath rank.

“Aren’t you a sweetling?” he said.

Sweetling. Oland’s stomach turned. It was the same hideous way he spoke to and looked at the women who came to the castle; the women he bullied and tormented and pawed. And now it was Delphi. Oland’s fists clenched, but, as he moved, the shackles took his arm only far enough to make Viande turn and laugh at him.

“But she is a sweetling… look at her,” said Viande. “Even a boy with long blond hair can see that…” He stood back and laughed again. “Well, look at that – she’s got the boy’s hair, and you’ve got the girl’s.”

Delphi dropped the chains, but just as she was about to lash out, Viande grabbed her and pulled her towards him. He had hooked his arm under her chin. He started to squeeze. Delphi struggled hard against him.

“Little sweetlings don’t fight back,” he said. “That’s not what little sweetlings do.”

“You are an ignorant savage,” said Oland.

Viande raised his eyebrows. “I still know when a pretty girl stands before me,” he said.

Oland struggled against his chains, yanking hard at them.

“She needs a pretty dress,” said Viande.

Oland looked at Delphi. She was staring at Oland, half frowning, as if she was in deep, conspiring thought.

Then, without warning, Viande threw the key to the cuffs at Oland.

“Unlock yourselves. We’re all going to go for a walk, and no one is going to cause any trouble. I’m still going to hold you against me, though, if you don’t mind,” he said to Delphi.

Oland’s stomach turned again.

All three walked to the door.

“After you,” said Viande, nodding at Oland.

Oland hesitated.

“I said, ‘after you’,” said Viande, squeezing Delphi’s throat. She made a terrible choking sound.

Oland stepped into the hallway and, in a flash, Viande threw Delphi back into the cell and locked the door.

“Sweetling,” he called. “I will return for you.”

He grabbed Oland by the arm. “Now,” said Viande, “let’s be on our way.”

Oland’s veins filled as they had in the arena and that same sensation rose up through his body. He didn’t understand where this power was coming from, but this time he knew that he would release it without question.

Viande, oblivious to what was happening to Oland, spun towards him. He threw the key up into the air and caught it in his mouth like it was one of his Brussels sprouts, swallowing it in one go.

“Now,” said Viande, “only I know where the second key is, so you better not have any plans other than to keep nicely in line with mine.”