When Kermadec set them down again, Pen and Cinnaminson were safely inside the caves that formed the Rock Troll fortress in the cliffs above the village. He had carried them in through an entrance concealed in the rocks, bundled them up a set of narrow stone steps to a door that opened after he’dmanipulated various jagged outcroppings, then deposited them where they could spend a few moments regaining their equilibrium.

“We thought no one was coming,” Cinnaminson offered, her face pale and her honey hair disheveled and coated with dust.

“Oh, it only took finding out where you were,” the big Troll replied cheerfully. His strange, flat face glanced at her briefly. “You can thank the Elf girl for that. She had the magic, some blue gems that showed an image of you hiding in the tunnel of the Gathering Place.”

The Elfstones, Pen thought. He had forgotten them entirely. But of course she can use them now, when there is no longer any reason to guard against revealing our presence.

“I remembered Cinnaminson and went back for her,” Pen said. “But then after I found her, I got lost.”

“Easy enough to do in our streets, young Penderrin. They were constructed to get you lost, if you weren’t one of us. No need to say anything more about it. You’re safe now, and that’s what matters.”

He released the locks on a concealed door and pulled it open to admit them to the safehold. Inside, it was controlled chaos of the same sort that Pen had experienced in the village on the approach of the Druid warships. Trolls bustled in all directions, each with a seemingly different task to accomplish. The chamber was huge, a monstrous cavern fully fifty feet high and more than a hundred across. Dozens of tunnels led away to places the boy could not see for the twists and turns in the corridors. But the openings to the left of where they stood formed a series of fortified redoubts in the cliff wall above Taupo Rough. Sunlight slanted through these overlooks in bright streamers, chasing back the shadows. Smaller cracks and crevices in the stone of the cliff wall admitted additional light. The combination of sunlit openings gave the chamber a peculiarly dappled look, but one that allowed the inhabitants to see clearly.

Kermadec refastened the locks on the concealed door, then added a pair of huge bars that slipped into iron cradles to further seal the entry. “That should keep out any unwanted visitors,” he declared, brushing off his hands. He glanced around. “Come with me.”