They reached the ladder, and as he made an attempt to climb it while still holding the darkwand, Pyson Wence snatched it away and cast it aside. «You won’t be needing any crutches from here on,” he said.

  Pen froze, hands on the ladder, one foot on the first rung. He couldn’t leave the talisman behind.

  Then Traunt Rowan walked over and picked it up. «He might have need of it, Pyson. I’ll carry it up for him. Go on, Pen.»

  Pen exhaled sharply and began to climb, taking care to favor his supposedly injured leg as he went. He did not look down at the Druids. He did not slow until he was aboard the airship, when he turned to wait for them. They were aboard quickly, dark faces shadowed and unreadable in the faint diffusion of the now distant firelight. Below, the Gnome Hunters were moving to follow, all but those who ringed the prisoners.

  Traunt Rowan moved over to Pen and handed him back his staff. «You wouldn’t consider trying to use this as a weapon, would you?» he asked with an edgy smile.

  Pen shook his head.

 « Good. Now let’s go below and get you settled in.»

  Instantly, Pen moved over to the railing, away from everyone. «Not until 1 see that my friends are going to be all right,” he said. «I want to watch what happens next.»

  Pyson Wence’s Gnomic features were dark with anger, but Traunt Rowan merely shrugged. «Stay where you are then.»

  He turned to Wence and nodded, and the latter issued orders to the Hunters who crewed the airships. The Hunters began scurrying about the decks and up the rigging, preparing the three ships to sail. With a last, dark look at Pen, Pyson Wence moved into the pilot box to stand next to theAthabasca’s Captain, his face turned away from the boy.

  Now only the few Gnomes guarding Tagwen and the Trolls remained, and one by one, weapons held at the ready, eyes fixed on the prisoners, they began to drift back toward the airships as well.