When Silver next spoke, she sounded determined, angry. “You’ve both behaved despicably this evening and your attitudes worry me, to say the least. I think a period of quiet reflection would do you both a world of good.” She paused and glared at them. “I’m sending the pair of you to the dungeons for the night.” Five’s head jerked in horror and Twelve’s breath caught in her chest. Beneath her furs, Widge shivered. “You’ll have plenty of time to think down there,” Silver went on remorselessly, “and I’ll expect an immediate improvement in your behavior as a result.”

Silver nodded, as though convincing herself, and rose to her feet, gesturing toward the door. Too shocked even to jostle one another, Twelve and Five followed.

Chapter

Four

The dungeon entrance lay next to the armory. When Silver creaked the door open, a sucking blackness seemed to slide out, snatching at them with silent fingers. Twelve flinched and Widge, now on her shoulder, squeaked his concern. Behind her, Five’s breath caught and Twelve tried to take satisfaction in knowing he felt the same dread as her.

She gazed back to where Seven was still practicing in the training ground. The other girl’s eyes met hers, filled with sympathy as she raised her sword in silent solidarity. Twelve nodded once, the weight in her chest lifting slightly. When she turned back to the dungeon, the darkness seemed a little less dark.

Silver’s solitary torch threw shadows over the group as they descended a steeply spiraling staircase to a grim warren of passages below. The Elder led them into a narrow tunnel, past cell after cell hacked out of the earth, their footsteps muffled by the packed dirt. A clammy coolness coiled down Twelve’s neck in spite of Widge’s warmth, and the smell of damp soil filled her nostrils. Somewhere nearby, water dripped.

“Five can go in here,” Silver said to Victory, the torch catching her face in profile. “I’ll take Twelve a little farther on.”

Behind her, Twelve heard a door clanging shut and a key turning. Grinding her teeth, she threw back her shoulders and took a deep breath. Just because she felt scared didn’t mean she had to show it. A few cells farther on, Silver stopped and opened a hefty wooden door with bars at eye level.

“In you go,” she said heavily.

Twelve’s gaze swept the space as she stepped in. A pile of moldy straw lay under a great canopy of cobwebs large enough to have been made by a deathspinner. In the corner, a bucket stank outrageously. Twelve clenched trembling fingers into fists and turned back to Silver. Shadows danced across the Elder’s face and her eyes were pools of regret in the torchlight.