“Without us, you’d still be locked up,” Five added.

“We stay,” Seven said, her voice carrying a finality that made Hoarfrost stare. She linked her arm through Six’s and met his gaze levelly. “W-w-we have to.”

“They have surprised me,” Dog growled, his eyes flicking away from the door. “They have faced cliffcrawlers, an Ygrex, and a deathspinner. They have been Blooded. They have earned their place.”

Twelve felt a warm glow inside her.

Hoarfrost hesitated, before nodding. “All right,” he said finally. “Ye’ll have to watch each other’s backs out there though. Ye may be Blooded, the Guardian speaks for ye on that, but there’ll be more blood spilled tonight.”

Chapter

Forty-Six

Hoarfrost turned to the silent crowd of assembled Hunters, his eyes scanning each face in turn. Under his gaze, Twelve saw spines straighten, chins raise, hands grip daggers more tightly.

“Beyond these doors lies the fight of our lives,” Hoarfrost called. “Our weaponsmaster has broken faith with us, led the enemy right into our ruddy training ground. She reckons she can undo in one night what has taken a thousand years to build, but I say she blimmin’ well can’t.”

A ragged cheer sounded from the Hunters and Twelve felt hope swell in her. Seven’s hand found hers and squeezed hard.

Hoarfrost spoke again. “I know ye’re battered an’ I know ye’re bruised, but tonight we gotta fight as never before. Will ye fight for the safety the lodge has given us? Will ye fight for the names we’ve earned here an’ the loved ones lost gaining ’em?”

A ripple of energy spread through the assembled Hunters, the growl of a great beast rousing itself.

Hoarfrost’s voice rose to a roar. “Will ye fight with me for those we protect? For justice? Will ye fight for our home?”

There was nothing ragged about the sound that erupted now. Every Hunter’s battle cry filled the hall and their feet stamped a slow, threatening rhythm on the floor, shaking the walls.

The hairs stood up on Twelve’s neck and her chest felt tight again. Nervously, she adjusted her grip on her axes and turned to Dog. His full attention was focused on what lay beyond the door, tension vibrating through him. His teeth were bared in a snarl and he looked larger than he ever had. In the ghoulish green light, he was the stuff of nightmares. Twelve ached with pride.

She raised her hand to her shoulder to touch Widge, to reassure herself with the warm softness of his fur.

Then she remembered, with a sickened jolt, that he was gone.

“The f-f-fox must stay muzzled,” Seven whispered, her breath warm on Twelve’s ear.

“What?” Twelve frowned, pushing away thoughts of her squirrel. “What does that mean?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” Seven muttered, her voice anguished. “B-b-but it’s important.”

There was no time to question her, no time to think.