Brief images of the struggle flashed through his mind as he fought to protect himself. He saw one of the Trolls stagger and fall, the creatures all over him, teeth buried in his thick hide. At the forefront of the advance, Khyber Elessedil and Garroneck fought to protect themselves, as well as Farshaun and the Speakman. Carrick went down, the little monsters tearing and ripping at his body. But blue fire exploded from the pile in a massive burst that threw the attackers off, and abruptly the Druid was on his feet again.

Then Redden caught sight of the girl Pleysia had brought with her, the one no one knew anything about. There was only just enough of her left to recognize: she had transformed into something else entirely. Grown suddenly larger and leaner, she ripped through the creatures that came at her like a huge moor cat, tearing them apart as they sought to bring her down. She flung them away with fingers suddenly become wicked claws, and her snarls were more dreadful than those of her attackers. The boy got only a quick look before he was back to fighting for his own life, but it was enough to tell him there was a great deal more to this girl than what had appeared on the surface.

Finally the creatures fell back, disappearing into the undergrowth as swiftly as they had come. The members of the company pulled themselves together, ripped and bloodied and exhausted. But everyone was still standing and ready to fight again, something that Redden was certain was going to be necessary.

The Ard Rhys pointed ahead. “There’s an escarpment at the lower end of those peaks!” She was breathing hard, gasping out her words. “If we make it that far and find a way up, they won’t be able to get at us so easily! Now run!”

The members of the company charged forward in a tangled knot, ignoring wounds and weariness, eyes fixed on their goal. It became visible in moments, a broad shelf stretching for several hundred yards. They saw, as well, a trail leading up. All they needed was five minutes.