"Princess Nell's pee-pee turned red too," Nell said, "because the Baron was a very bad man. And his real name wasn't Baron Jack. His real name was Burt." As Nell spoke the words, the story changed in the Primer.

"And Harv couldn't use his arm because of the wrist, so he had to carry everything with one hand, and that's because Burt was a bad man and he hurt it really bad," Nell said.

After a long silence, the Primer began to speak again, but the lovely voice of the Vicky woman who told the story sounded thick and hoarse all of a sudden and would stumble in the middle of sentences.

Baron Burt ate all day, until finally the sun went down.

"Bar the doors," said a high squeaking voice, "or the trolls will be after us!"

These words came from a little man in a suit and top hat who had just scurried through the doors and was now eyeing the sunset nervously.

"Who is that pipsqueak interrupting my dinner!?" roared Baron Burt.

"This is our neighbor," Princess Nell said. "He comes to visit us in the evening. Please let him sit by the fire."

Baron Burt looked a bit suspicious, but at this moment Harv set a delicious strawberry cheesecake in front of him, and he forgot about the little man entirely, until a few minutes later, when the high squeaking voice piped up again:

There once was a Baron named Burt

Who was so tough he couldn't be hurt

And could wrestle a bear; but I think

After two or three drinks

Like a child he'd throw up on his shirt.

"Who dares mock the Baron!?" bellowed Baron Burt, and looked down to see the new visitor leaning insouciantly on his walking stick and raising a glass as if to toast his health.

Your Majesty, don't be upset

And please feel free now to get

Into bed; for it's been a long day

And you're in a bad way

And your trousers you're soon going to wet.

"Bring me a cask of ale!" shouted Baron Burt. "And bring another for this upstart, and we'll see who can hold his drink."

Harv rolled two casks of strong ale into the room. Baron Burt raised one to his lips and drained it in single pull. The little man on the floor then did the same.

Two skins of wine were then brought, and once again both Baron Burt and the little man easily finished them. Finally, two bottles of strong liquor were brought, and the Baron and the little man took turns drinking one swallow at a time until the bottles were empty. The Baron was confounded by the small man's ability to drink; but there he stood, upright and sober, while Baron Burt was becoming very drunk.

Finally the little man pulled a small bottle from his pocket and said,

For a young man, ale is fine

While grown-ups much prefer wine

Liquor's a thing

That's fit for a king

But it's kid stuff compared to moonshine.

The little man uncorked the bottle and took a drink, then handed it to Baron Burt. The Baron took one swallow and fell asleep instantly in his chair.

"Mission accomplished," said the little man, sweeping off his top hat with a deep bow, revealing a set of long furry ears-for he was none other than Peter in disguise.

Princess Nell ran back to the kitchen to tell Dinosaur, who was sitting by the fire with a long wooden pole, poking it in the coals and turning it round and round to make the point very sharp. "He's asleep!" she whispered.

Miranda, sitting in her stage at the Parnasse, felt an overwhelming sense of relief as her next line appeared on the prompter. She took a deep breath before she delivered it, closed her eyes, settled her mind, tried to put herself there in the Dark Castle. She looked deep into Princess Nell's eyes and sold the line with every scrap of talent and technique she had.

"Good!" said Dinosaur. "Then the time has come for you and Harv to flee from the Dark Castle! You must be as stealthy as you can. I will come out later and join you."

Please get out of there. Please run away. Get out of that chamber of horrors where you've been living, Nell, and get to an orphanage or a police station or something, and I will find you. No matter where you are, I'll find you.

Miranda had it worked out already: she could compile an extra mattress, put Nell on the floor of her bedroom and Harv in the living room of her flat. If only she could figure out who the hell they were.

Princess Nell hadn't responded. She was thinking, which was the wrong thing to do right now. Get out. Get out.

"Why are you putting that stick in the fire?"

"It is my duty to see that the evil Baron never troubles you again," Miranda said, reading from the prompter.

"But what are you going to do with that stick?"

Please don't do this. It's not the time to ask why. "You must make haste!" Miranda read, trying once again to sell the line as best she could. But Princess Nell had been playing with the Primer for a couple of years now and had gotten in the habit of asking endless questions.

"Why are you making the stick sharper?"

"This is how Odysseus and I took care of the Cyclops," Dinosaur said.

Shit. It's going all wrong.

"What's Cyclops?" Nell said.

A new illustration grew on the next page, facing the illustration of Dinosaur by the fire. It was a picture of a one-eyed giant herding some sheep.

Dinosaur told the story of how Odysseus killed the Cyclops with a pointed stick, just as he was about to do to Baron Burt. Nell insisted on hearing what happened after that. One story led to another. Miranda tried to tell the stories as fast as she could, tried to put a tone of boredom and impatience into her voice, which wasn't easy because she was actually on the verge of panic. She had to get Nell out of that apartment before Burt woke up from his drunk.

The eastern sky was beginning to glow . . .

Shit. Get out of there, Nell!

. . .

Dinosaur was just in the middle of telling Princess Nell about a witch who turned men into swine when suddenly, poof, he turned back into a stuffed animal. The sun had come up.

Nell was a bit startled by this turn of events, and closed the Primer for a while, and sat in the dark listening to Harv wheeze and Burt snore in the next room. She'd been looking forward to the moment when Dinosaur would kill Baron Burt, just as Odysseus had done to the Cyclops. But now it wasn't going to happen. Baron Burt would wake up, realize he'd been tricked, and hurt them worse.

They'd be stuck in the Dark Castle forever.

Nell was tired of being in the Dark Castle. She knew it was time to get out. She opened the Primer.

"Princess Nell knew what she had to do," Nell said. Then she closed the Primer and left it on her pillow.

Even if she hadn't learned how to read pretty well, she would have had no trouble finding what she wanted just by using the M.C.'s mediaglyphics. It was a thing she'd seen people use in the old passives, a thing she'd seen when Mom's old boyfriend Brad had taken her to visit the horse barn in Dovetail. It was called a screwdriver, and you could have the M.C. make them in all different shapes: long, short, fat, skinny.

She had it make one that was very long and very skinny. When it was finished, it made the hissing sound that it always made, and she thought she heard Burt stirring on the sofa.

She peeked into the living room. He was still lying there, his eyes closed, but his arms were moving around. His head turned from side to side once, and she could see a glimmer between his half-opened eyelids.

He was about to wake up and hurt her some more.

She held the screwdriver out in front of her like a lance and ran straight toward him.

At the last instant she faltered. The tool went astray and skidded across his forehead, leaving a trail of red stitches. Nell was so horrified that she dropped it and jumped back Burt was shaking his head violently back and forth.