Young, leggy pines surrounded her, their shadows striping the snowy ground. Between the trees, the winter sun was diving behind the Fang Mountains, its dying rays tinting the earth gold. Twelve’s breath steamed as she turned on the spot, trying to orient herself, but the lodge was nowhere to be seen. The tunnel had sent her out somewhere farther into the mountains. Trees and snow stretched on as far as she could see. The silence was absolute. On her shoulder, Widge grew still and somber, their shared elation fading.

Fear leaped in her gut and instinctively she began scanning the ground around her, keeping her thoughts focused on interpreting the tracks there, anything but the enormity of the task she had set herself.

There were a multitude of prints, but as Twelve examined them a story began to emerge. The creatures had all arrived from different directions, but had entered the passage together. Three sets of prints traveling in the opposite direction caught her eye and she heaved a sigh of relief. There had been no guarantee the goblins had left the way they’d come, but here were two narrow sets of goblin footprints with an unmistakably human one between them.

“Seven,” Twelve whispered, gazing at the print. Still alive and able to walk.

For now.

Twelve shook her head, pushing away all the goblin atrocities she’d learned about in class, wishing she didn’t have quite such a good memory. She would find Seven and bring her back. She had to.

“Better get going,” she muttered to Widge. His whiskers tickled her nose as she checked her axes and started forward. “We’ve only got a few hours of light left.” Her voice seemed unnaturally loud in the vast silence around her.

Beyond the clearing, the trees grew closer together, their trunks glittering with frost. The tracks weaved through them until they broke out onto a gently sloping snowfield. In the distance, the Fangs scratched the sky. Twelve skidded to a stop, her eyes darting over a muddle of marks in the snow. Three sleds and at least four more goblins had waited here for their counterparts to return.

She scowled into the setting sun and took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart, angry with herself that she hadn’t seen this coming. These goblins had orchestrated several seemingly impossible feats: of course they’d planned their getaway just as carefully.

A soft crunch in the snow behind her made Widge’s tail bristle. Twelve’s axes were in her hands in an instant, but there was nowhere to hide. She turned back to the trees, determination and fear pounding through her as a dark shape shifted in the distance, moving toward her with the confident gait of a predator.

Twelve’s heart thrummed a frantic rhythm, but she stood her ground.