The chase wore on for a mile, then two. The Trolls were tireless, and Pen and his companions were driven by fear, so they managed to keep just ahead of the Urdas. When Tagwen faltered, one of the Trolls snatched him right off his feet, tucked him under one arm, and kept running. But the distance between hunter and hunted was closing fast. When Pen finally risked a quick glance over his shoulder, he found the Urdas right behind Atalan and the other two Trolls who were acting as rear guards. The throwing weapons mostly bounced off the Trolls like sticks, but Pen could see blood showing through rents in the leather tunics.

Then one of the Trolls running with Atalan caught a spear in the back of the neck above his protective vest, and he went down in a heap. Kermadec’s brother turned instantly, shouted for help, and charged back into the pursuing Urdas with such ferocity that they were bowled over and scattered. Khyber wheeled around as well, words of magic tumbling from her lips, hands weaving. A fresh assault of fire darts flew at the Urdas, shrieking and burning. But this time the Urdas didn’t flee. Ducking behind trees and flattening themselves to the ground, they simply waited out the barrage.

Atalan bent quickly over the fallen Troll. A moment later, he was back on his feet.

“Dead!” he snapped at no one in particular. Then, seeing Pen and Cinnaminson frozen in place and staring at him, he shouted, “Run, you fools!”

Everyone turned and began to race ahead once more. But the members of the company were winded, worn down by the chase and the never-ending number of pursuers. Already, more Urdas were after them, ignoring the fire darts, tearing through the trees and flinging their weapons with wild shrieks.

Then one of those weapons found Pen, catching him just behind the knees and toppling him in a wash of pain and blood.

It happened so fast that he was down on the ground almost before he realized what was happening. He had the presence of mind to let go of Cinnaminson as he was struck, so that she was not pulled down with him. But he tumbled hard, and when he tried to rise he found his legs would not work. Lying crippled on the ground, he would have died then if not for Atalan. The burly Rock Troll swept him up as he charged past, tucked him under his arm, pounded up to where Cinnaminson stood staring in petrified disbelief thinking she had lost Pen, and snatched her up as well.

“Can’t be losing you now, little man,” he hissed at Pen, racing after the others as missiles flew all around them. “Not after all the trouble you’ve caused us.”