“Hat Man?” said Cody, as they turned to go back to the encampment. “Hat Man?”

“I never know what he’s going to decide to call people,” Rosa chuckled. “I think he’s never seen a hat like yours before.” Cody was wearing his white, broad-brimmed hat as usual, so Giselle could understand why Pieter had taken that as the mark of his individuality. “The first time I ever saw him, I was wearing the red cloak that my mother made for me, so that became my name, so far as he was concerned. He calls Hunt Master Gunther ‘Face-Moss,’ so I think you got off lucky, Master Lee.”

“Reckon I did, at that,” Cody chuckled. “So . . . trolls is generally bad?”

“Almost always,” said Giselle, before Rosa could answer. “There are all manner of children’s stories about them, and they generally end with someone getting eaten.” She glanced over at Rosa. “I thought that daylight turned them to actual stone, though.”

“It does. Sunlight never falls in that gorge,” Rosa pointed out. “Pieter knows every inch of it, and every place where it might be dangerous for him to venture. So if you are ever pursued by a troll, you should do your best to get somewhere that sunlight will fall.”

“I’ll keep thet in mind,” Cody responded, “Though I’ve no intention of kickin’ up a troll!”

“Stay out of caves, then,” Rosa and Giselle said at the same time, looked at each other, and laughed.

“Trolls sometimes guard treasure,” Rosa elaborated. “Pieter almost certainly has some. It’s not that hard for a troll to get, even without ambushing travelers. People have accidents upstream and their bodies get washed downstream. When that happens, Pieter is not in the least squeamish about picking over the bodies.” She shrugged. “At least he doesn’t eat them. He’s a troll, and it’s remarkable enough that he considers any human beings at all as friends. You can’t expect him to act as if the bodies of dead strangers mean anything to him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t,” Giselle agreed, just as they reached the spring and the start of the broader trail that would lead back down to the encampment. “The only thing I am not surprised by is how long he has considered himself to be an ally of the Bruderschaft, since he seems to be a very good creature, and probably has been from the time he was . . . well however trolls are made. Trolls live a very long time, I believe.”

“Very. Really, I have never heard of one dying of old age.” Rosa looked back at the dark gorge behind them. “I’ve asked him how long he’s been our friend, and how he came to be our friend, but he only looked confused. I don’t think he understood the question, because I don’t think he understands the passing of time in the way that we do.”