“Then bring out the boy, Pen Ohmsford, and you do not need to. Just the boy. The others can remain, if you want them to.”

“You are a bold man, coming into our country and making demands as if it were your own.” Kermadec’s voice had taken on a decided edge. “You might want to give some thought to where you stand before you say anything else.”

“Is the boy here?”

“What boy?”

There was a measured silence. “You are a fool to challenge us, Kermadec.”

“The only fool I see is the one who serves Shadea a’Ru. The only fool I see is the one who betrayed the Ard Rhys in a way so foul and indefensible that it will surely lead to his destruction. Don’t threaten me, Traunt Rowan! Don’t threaten the Trolls of Taupo Rough! We were the defenders of the Druids for almost twenty years, before this dark time in your history, and we will one day be defenders of the Druids again. We know enough about you to be able to challenge you, if that is what is required. Turn your ships around and fly out of here while you still can. Don’t mistake where you are.”

Traunt Rowan folded his arms. “We have the boy’s parents, Kermadec. We know that Ahren Elessedil is dead. You have no one who will stand with you in this. You are alone.”

Khyber and Tagwen exchanged a quick, shocked glance. The Druids had Bek Ohmsford and his wife? How had that happened?

“He’s lying,” Tagwen hissed.

“Alone?” Kermadec laughed. “The Trolls are always alone. It is a condition of life to which we are not only accustomed, but one that we prefer. Threats of the sort you seem intent on making don’t frighten us. If you have the parents, you don’t need the boy, do you? Can the parents not give you everything you need? What is it that you need, by the way? You haven’t said. What is it that a boy can give you that his parents can’t? You speak as if you know, but I think, in fact, you don’t. Explain yourself, and maybe I can be persuaded to do as you say.”

Traunt Rowan stood unmoving on the flats, dark and solitary, anger radiating off him like heat. “We are to raze your village and kill you all, Kermadec, if you resist us. Those are my orders. I have brought Gnome Hunters to carry out those orders. I have brought Mutens, as well. Do you wish your village and people destroyed? Is that your intent?”

Kermadec seemed to be thinking it over. “My intent, Traunt Rowan,” he said finally, his rough voice so dark with menace that Khyber immediately tensed, “is to see you and your raiders and your airships consumed by the fires of the netherworld that spawned you.”