The Diamond of Darkhold - 4 by Jeanne DuPrau

the Gathering Hall. And then the lights began to fade.
    But before they did, Doon’s eye was caught by a quick movement down at the base of the Gathering Hall steps—a hand, fluttering. A face appeared beside it, and he realized it was Lina, leaning out from behind the big trash bin by the wall. Their eyes connected, and Doon, seeing that the Troggs were all gazing upward at the lights, shaped silent words with his mouth, hoping Lina would understand. Go home, he mouthed. He aimed a look upward to make clear what he meant. Get away. Go home. Get help. He thought he saw Lina nod—but then the lamps went out, and darkness fell again.
    “So there you are,” said Trogg. “That’s what I was telling you about. Don’t suppose you’ve seen anything like that before, have you?”
    “Not exactly,” said Doon.
    “Think you could get used to living here?”
    “No,” said Doon.
    “Too bad,” said Trogg. “This is your new home.”

CHAPTER 10
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    Looting
    “Now to our little problem,” Trogg said. “We want you to help with our work, so you have to be able to move around. But we don’t want you running off, so you ought to be tied up. But if you’re tied up, you can’t work. What’s the solution?”
    Doon said nothing.
    “The solution that first occurred to me,” said Trogg, “is to tie up your feet and leave your hands free.
    But then I thought, Trogg, that won’t work. If his hands are free, he could just bend down and untie his feet. That was when I remembered some useful things we found the other day at a very interesting store. Where was that place, Yorick?”
    “Over that way,” said Yorick, who had flopped down into a fat, shabby armchair. He waved in the direction of Greengate Square. “Funny place, full of a million little bitty things, like screws and bolts and pins and nails and cords and buttons and knobs.”
    Doon went rigid. That had to be his father’s store—the Small Items Shop. That was the shop he had lived over all his life until he left Ember.
    “Yes, very useful place,” Trogg said. “Bring me that sack, Yorick. That one, over there.”
    Yorick heaved himself out of the chair and fetched the sack, and Trogg dumped it out on the ground. All kinds of metal doodads clattered out. “Let’s see,” said Trogg. “This might work.” From the heap, he pulled a couple of C-shaped handles that might have come from cupboard doors. He pressed them together to form a ring. “Just right,” he said. “Now we need two more. . . . Here they are. . . . And then some screws and bolts . . . and this piece of chain. And this nifty little padlock, complete with key! Perfect. Help me here, Yorick.”
    Doon’s heart was hammering. Shackled by a chain from his own father’s store? “No,” he said. As hard as he could, he rocked the chair he was tied to from side to side, but it made no difference. Yorick held him fast and Trogg worked. First he clamped a pair of handles around one of Doon’s ankles and screwed them tightly together.
    “Ow,” said Doon. The metal pressed against his bone.
    Trogg ignored him. He cuffed Doon’s other ankle. Then he looped the chain through the cuffs and connected its ends with the padlock.
    “There,” he said, grinning his wide grin. “It’s just right. Long enough so you can walk but not run. And not possible to undo, even if your hands are free, unless you can find yourself a screwdriver, which you won’t be able to do, because we will be watching you all the time, or unless you get your hands on this little key.” He held up the key to the padlock. “Which you also won’t be able to do, because I will hide it where sneaky fingers can’t find it.” Trogg untied the ropes that bound Doon. He tossed them away. Then he stood back and gazed proudly at his new worker. “You’ll need one more thing,” he said. “A lightcap. I’ll have Minny make you one. In the meantime, just stick close to my kids.” He nodded to Yorick and Kanza. “You two