Twelve was certain Widge had chewed off some more of her hair, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be cross with him; this place was terrifying. She had tried to be matter-of-fact; she’d told herself over and over on the journey down that a forest was just a collection of trees, nothing more. But there was something in the air here that stuck in the back of her throat. Up close, the trees looked strange—taller than normal, their shadows a little darker, frost-rimed branches bare and as sharp as claws.

The group hung back, pressing themselves longingly against the slope they’d just descended.

“So, here it is in all its dubious glory,” Five croaked. His skin had taken on a gray cast and his eyes seemed to have sunk into his skull. He looked awful. “Not feeling too great,” he admitted, catching Twelve’s look and shrugging it off.

“You’ll feel better after a rest,” she said quickly. She glanced between him and the forest, biting her lip. He couldn’t have looked less ready to enter the most dangerous place in Ember. To her surprise, she found that it bothered her, that she was actually worried about him.

Six came to stand beside her, seeming to read her mind. “If we stop now, we’re saying Seven has to spend another night in danger,” he whispered. “But . . .” He looked back at Five, leaning heavily against Surefoot, his expression agonized.

Twelve frowned up at the sky. The sun was on a downward dive and the forest’s shadows crept menacingly toward them. Every instinct screamed that it would be madness to brave the forest in the dark, especially with Five in such a state. But to leave Seven with the goblins for another night? Everything in her railed against it—they should have found her by now.

Dog looked equally torn until a thump made them all turn. Five’s knees had given way and he was sprawled in the snow, looking faintly surprised.

“You know,” he said, struggling into a seated position and waving Six away, “I’m really starting to think you’ve all told some fibs about this cliffcrawler bite.”

Twelve and Dog stared at one another while Six became very interested in a patch of snow by his boot.

Five sighed impatiently. “Twelve, brutal honesty is practically a hobby of yours. How bad is it?”

There were times when hearing the truth was helpful and times when it wasn’t.

“It’s deep but clean,” she lied, offering him a strip of dried meat from her bag. “You lost a lot of blood and need to keep your strength up.” That part at least was true.

Something flickered across Five’s features: fear.

“You trying to be nice is actually scarier than the forest,” he said tonelessly, swiping the meat from her hand and stuffing it into his mouth. Every bite sent a shudder of pain through him.