Page 23 of The Dungeon Book

“I wanted to see what it felt like,” she said.

“We should go!” I warned. “Quickly!”

But it was too late. The manticores had found us.

Three came prowling – two from the nearby temple, and one from the other side, trapping us in the narrow corridor. They moved like stalking cats despite their weight, bat wings folded tightly against their flanks, scorpion tails arched and twitching. Their faces were those of old women, each with three rows of teeth in their distended mouths; their eyes young and hungry. One prowled with a limp.

“Look, Sisters,” purred Third-Sister, “shall we call it thief or appetiser?”

“Why can’t it be both?” said Second-Sister. She shifted from one paw to another to spare her wounded foot.

“We are all Denizens here,” I said, “this can all be settled under the Rules.”

“Cornelius,” growled First-Sister. “We know you, but you are Master no longer. We shall interpret the Rules ourselves, as we see fit.”

“And we were not at your Levelling,” purred Third. “Maybe we do not think we are all Denizens here.” She brushed her scorpion tail against the wall, smearing a trickle of venom across the stone, marking her territory.

Sir Peledon shoved Bait behind him. He brandished his axe and scraped the ground with one hoof. “The carcass – yours. Take it and we go. Try to stop us – and I’ll give you more than a limp.”

“He threatens us, Sisters!” snarled Second. “On our own doorstep, the newcomer threatens us.”

“Ask the kobolds if my threats are empty!”

“Oh, we know the defeat you inflicted on them,” growled First-Sister. “The Squinter came this way, talking of what you did – and how we would be rewarded by the dragon if we helped secure the human child.”

“We told him to go away then,” said Third-Sister.

“Not welcome in our lair,” added Second-Sister.

“We do not beg for scraps from Nithscalpa,” continued First. “Our kills are ours, not to be given – nor stolen.”

Sir Peledon half turned to face Third-Sister, but there was no way for the minotaur to guard against attacks from two directions. If it came to a fight, we were in a bad position. Well, Sir Peledon and Bait were. My position was on a ledge, and there I would remain unless someone knocked me.

“Maybe we should let them leave for now,” said Third-Sister, smiling with all her many teeth, “and discuss the matter over dinner with a guest or two. The Squinter might pass this way soon, Sisters, and we could tolerate his company for a little while if we must. We could pay a visit to the Chasm Hall when we are ready.”

Second-Sister took a limping pace forward. “But I am hungry now,” she snarled.

The minotaur snorted and scraped the floor with a hoof. “Bait,” he said, “get ready.” His words were almost unintelligible; he had to force them out of his heaving chest, and when he snorted, bloody froth exploded from his nostrils. He was on the verge of a killing frenzy. “Grab skull. Then. Run.”

Bait stooped to pick up the silver coin that she’d dropped, the one she treasured. I watched her swallow her fear, square her shoulders, stand taller than I’d ever seen her stand before. Then she stepped past Sir Peledon and held the coin out to Second-Sister.

“This is yours,” she said. “I took more. I’ll give ’em all back. All of it. And the blanket and the boots and – and I ate the food, but there’s a bit left. I’m sorry.”

It was the first time she had apologised to anyone. I found it as heart-warming as I could manage, which wasn’t much. The three manticores were even more unmoved. But the effect on Sir Peledon was both notable and obvious. He looked at Bait with unabashed pride and wonder, then straightened up himself. He wrestled his battle fury back into the bowels of his minotaur spirit, and spoke as the knight he once was. He pointed at Second-Sister’s foot.

“You’re . . . hurt,” he said, “a splinter from the sword. Bait is . . . goblin-trained – she can pull the splinter out.”

Seeing the opening, I joined in. “Why, friends, I’m sure we can persuade Clickglee to send a few goblins down to fix up your lair with traps. And as previously established, some of your treasure was accidentally left in my tomb. It shall be returned to you, every bit of it. There’s no need for anyone to get eviscerated today.”

“You offer what we already own,” snarled Second-Sister.

“But do not possess,” I pointed out. “And you stand to lose a great deal more if you force a confrontation now. Speaking as one who has clearly lost everything, I advise taking what you can get.”

The three sisters conferred.

“Bring the treasure here,” said First-Sister, “now.”

“Bait,” I said, “run home and fetch it all.”