As the stench grew, the light diminished. Far above their heads the cliffs leaned lovingly toward one another, blotting out the sky. The gorge was now more of a cavelike tunnel and it was setting Twelve’s teeth on edge. She took the moonstone out of her pocket.

Their faces were strange in the silver-blue light, all smooth-bone whiteness and shadowed hollows. The cold was a physical thing, beating at them, crawling under cuffs and up sleeves. Snow cracked beneath Dog’s paws and their mufflers dripped with icicles.

Six pulled an arrow out of his quiver and dragged it lightly across the gleaming black rock. A thick, gelatinous substance trailed off it and he groaned in disgust, flicking it away.

“Not ogres, then,” Twelve said darkly, catching his eye.

“No,” he gulped. “The smell, the darkness, the slime. It’s got to be cliffcrawlers.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll just be one or two of them,” Five said. But his forced jollity only made him seem more scared.

Six kept his mouth tightly shut. Unconsciously, the group moved closer together.

Twelve was racking her brains, trying to recall everything she could about cliffcrawlers. Then, in a moment of inspiration, she remembered that she’d packed A Magical Bestiary. Eagerly, she rummaged through her bag and pulled out the heavy tome.

“You brought a book?” Five gaped. “What in Ember are you going to do with that? Throw it at a goblin?”

Twelve shot him a withering glare and flipped to the pages on cliffcrawlers. There were some vivid sketches she tried hard to ignore, focusing instead on the summary at the bottom of the page. She read fast and out loud, all too aware there was another unknown creature behind them.

“Cliffcrawlers are relatively common creatures. They usually reside underground, making them a particular problem for the cave clan or those venturing through cave systems. However, there are documented instances of them being found elsewhere and any dark nook from which a foul smell emanates should be treated with caution. . . .”

Five snickered. Dog cut him off with a low, warning growl and Twelve continued:

“The creature itself is little more than a mouth containing innumerable fangs, and a tail carried on four squat legs. Commonly, they live in large groups—a surprising number of these creatures can pack themselves into a limited space. The bog clan village of Newt famously reported a hundred and fifty crawlers in one small cupboard.”

Twelve cleared her throat and swallowed, glancing at the space before them. The darkness snatched at the moonstone-light and gave every impression of not being small. Five stopped laughing, looked a little pale.