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“But, Corkoran!” Dench exclaimed. “We could be dead in our beds!”
As Dench spoke, there was a thunderous banging on the main doors below. Dench clutched at Corkoran’s arm, and Corkoran said, “Oh, what now?”
“Corkoran! Dench!” It was Finn’s voice, amplified by magic. “Are you all right in there?”
Corkoran remembered that the doors had locked behind him. He went galloping down the stairs, with Dench in his slippers flip-flopping after. When he reached the place where the pit had been, there was such a stench of oranges that Corkoran automatically detoured in case the pit opened again. It had seemed to close, but he was taking no chances. Dench, however, flip-flopped safely straight through the spot and clasped Corkoran’s arm again.
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