What the cartographers recorded with such precision has since all but vanished. A north-south avenue now cuts across the former enclosure, slightly off-centre to the east, and on the arable ground to that side there is nothing left to see at ground level. The ringfort, an earthen or earthen-and-stone enclosure of the kind that once numbered in the tens of thousands across Ireland and served as farmsteads during the early medieval period, has been effectively erased.

On the pasture to the west of the avenue, something faint does survive. A slight scarp runs from the south-west around to the north, tracing what would have been the circuit of the original bank. Further north still, an earthen rampart on the southern side of a ruined lime kiln, a small industrial structure once used to burn limestone into agricultural quicklime, may itself be a remnant of the fort's bank, modified over time to serve another purpose. At its highest it reaches about two metres. The site is probably one of three levelled ringforts that a researcher named Bowman noted in 1934, on lands then associated with John Linehan, Andrew O'Callaghan, and Joseph McCarthy. That three such monuments were recorded as already gone in a single local survey from the 1930s gives some sense of how thoroughly agricultural improvement reshaped the Cork countryside over the preceding century.

What remains at Pallas is less a monument than a set of clues: a scarp in pasture, a repurposed bank beside a ruined kiln, and the ghost of a circle on a Victorian map. The avenue that bisects the site is the most conspicuous feature now, though it is entirely indifferent to the archaeology it crosses.