Dog had turned around and was staring unblinkingly into the distance. “I see no enemy,” he said eventually. “But we must all be on our guard.” Under his breath, Twelve distinctly heard him mutter, “They must have some skill among them.”

“Well,” Five said, his eyes flinty, “thank the frost we have Twelve on it. If her eyes are anywhere near as sharp as her tongue, or as quick as her fists . . .”

Six groaned. “Can we focus on what’s important here? We’re going to have to fight together, probably sooner rather than later. We should be building bridges, not burning the few we have.”

Five shrugged.

“Whatever,” Twelve said. “I’m here to rescue Pop—” She cut herself off just in time, shocked. What was wrong with her? “I’m here to rescue Seven, not make friends.”

“Obviously,” snarled Five, his cheeks flushing pink. “You’re unbelievable—no wonder everyone hates you so much.”

The venom in his voice caught Twelve by surprise and her throat tightened. Not trusting herself to speak, she kept her back to him and her eyes firmly on the tracks. A muscle in her neck spasmed painfully from how stiffly she was holding herself, but she ignored it. On her shoulder, Widge licked her cheek and squeaked softly.

Six muttered something to Five, but Five didn’t bother to lower his voice in response.

“No, it’s not!” he cried, indignation threaded through every syllable. “She’s just embarrassed because we saw her crying and she’s acting like it’s our fault. It’s so obvious and so pathetic. I’m not going to put up with it just because she’s forgotten her stupid dream milk.”

Twelve’s fingers twitched toward her axes.

“Enough,” Dog yelped, coming to a standstill, his hackles rising. “A flock of glintwings took most of my ear. Yet I preferred their company to yours.” Five and Six glanced at one another ruefully as Dog went on. “If your words are not useful, then remain silent.”

With that, he turned and bounded along the trail, snatches of furious mutterings audible. “Slower than snails . . . attention span of a snarrow . . .”

Twelve might have grown irritated by it if Five hadn’t discovered the goblin camp.

Chapter

Fifteen

They were still in the realm of the peaks when Five spotted tracks ahead veering to the left. Twelve was almost impressed, despite herself. She had thought her eyes were sharp. Following the trail, they came quickly to the goblins’ camp. A mass of footprints spread over the whole area. There were no trees or rocks to provide cover, and Twelve shivered at the thought of how cold a night Seven must have spent up here. The remains of a fire were still smoking gently and she hurried straight to it, her eyes scouring the prints for signs of Seven as she went. Widge scrambled out of her furs to stare around too, nose twitching at the new smells.