Twelve frowned at Five’s sidling snagglefoot. Charger wasn’t one of the Hunters’ regular mounts—he was still too green. She rolled her eyes. “Did you really bring a half-trained snagglefoot with you?” she asked.

“We’re here, aren’t we?” Five snorted. “So obviously I can handle him.”

“Like you handled the dungeons?” she asked. She smiled grimly as his shoulders stiffened.

“Enough!” Dog growled, sitting down. The ground shuddered beneath him and pine needles rained around them. “Tonight we camp. Together. Tomorrow you all return to the lodge.”

Twelve stared at him. “I am not camping with them!” she exclaimed, her horror rising.

“You are,” Dog said evenly. “Danger lurks. I cannot protect two campsites.”

“I don’t need to be protected,” Twelve snarled.

“Of course not,” Dog said dryly. “You have your squirrel and your wits.”

Five smirked.

Her face burning, Twelve stalked away, biting her tongue to stop herself screaming. This was not what she had imagined when she set off. She took several deep breaths to calm herself and shoved her fists into her pockets. Her knuckles sank through Widge’s stash of nuts to connect solidly with something larger and she remembered the mysterious package from the dungeons. Already that felt like a lifetime ago when really it had only been a day.

The object was slightly larger than her fist and tightly wrapped in linen. She squeezed it curiously as Widge sniffed at it, then tugged one end of the wrapping to let it unravel under its own weight. A smooth, milky stone dropped into her hand. She stared at it, confused and disappointed, until it began to glow.

It started so slowly that Twelve thought she was imagining things, then gained momentum until a fierce silvery-blue light erupted from it. Twelve threw up her other hand to protect her eyes as Widge shrieked in alarm. The others crowded around her with exclamations of surprise.

“What in Ember . . . ?” Five’s voice was very close and Twelve blinked furiously until her eyes adjusted. He was staring at her, an expression of amazement on his face. “Where did you steal that from?” Then, over his shoulder, “You’ve got to see this! I’ve never seen a moonstone so big!”

A moonstone?

Twelve squinted at the glowing object uncertainly, so surprised she barely registered Five’s insult. Moonstones were the tiny lights in the council house, their pale glimmer barely enough to see by. This seemed something else entirely. It blazed like bottled lightning, burning away shadows, bleaching everything with clean, bright light.

“Where did you get that?” Six demanded, his face bone white in the moonstone light. Even Dog was looking askance at her. Defiance straightened her spine and confusion sealed her lips. Twelve glared at them all in reply.

“I don’t think you stole it,” Six said, taking a deep breath, “but where did it come from?”