“Of course,” Twelve muttered, shoving the key into the lock. “Are you . . . are you all right?”

He didn’t look good when the door swung open. She’d expected him to shove past her and take off, but he stood frozen to the spot. A trickle of blood gleamed darkly on his forehead and soil smeared his clothes. The cell behind him was devastated—he was lucky to be alive.

She grabbed Five’s arm and tugged him forward, but he pulled back with a jerk, his familiar supercilious expression returning.

“Warn everyone? That’s what the night watch is for!” As if on cue, the deep, dolorous boom of the alarm bell sounded. It shivered through the earth walls straight into Twelve’s heart.

It had begun.

Five shrank from the sound. Twelve was unpleasantly reminded of herself only moments before. But, if the lodge was under attack, then she was determined to do her bit in defending it.

“Fine,” she snapped, adrenaline making her hands shake. “You stay here. I’m going to help.”

Without waiting for his response, she scrambled over the clods of earth and jogged to the stairs, cursing as her candle flame flickered, nearly going out. Widge’s claws dug through her furs as sounds of fighting crashed down from above, hurrying her feet. Growls and howls, screamed orders, the clash of metal and the shrieks of the injured all mingled into a terrifying cacophony of battle sound.

At the top of the spiral staircase, the dungeon door had been smashed off its hinges. The scene beyond it froze Twelve to the spot. In the pale light of dawn, a nightmare of violence and destruction spread before her.

The candle slipped from her fingers and Widge chittered his shock.

Four fully grown ogres roared in the center of the training ground, spittle flying from their mouths. Twenty feet tall and armed with morning stars, they swung furiously at the Hunters swarming around their legs. Spears and arrows rained down from the night watch on the skybridges, but they had little effect on the ogres’ tough hides.

Twelve hovered in the broken doorway, axes in hand, gathering her courage. “Better get off, Widge,” she whispered. “This fight is for real—no place for a squirrel.”

Widge gave her a disparaging look while baring his teeth. She couldn’t help but snort a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure your teeth will be much good against an ogre, but it’s up to you. Better get on my back instead though.”

The squirrel obliged.

Twelve took a deep breath and sprinted out into the chaos.

Chapter

Seven

Twelve didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—just ran straight for the nearest ogre.