Five stared helplessly at them and then shrugged. “My father exiled me. I’m not chief material apparently, but my little brother is. He told me if I didn’t disappear he’d find a way to make my death look like an accident. . . .” He trailed off and shrugged again. “So I ran.” His cheeks were burning, his gaze firmly on his feet.

“I see,” Oakhammer said ponderously. “What an insightful man your father was. Now tell me of the boy next to you. What is he to you?”

Five raised his flushed gaze to Six. “He’s Six—he’s my friend.”

“Ah, your friend.”

Fear flashed across Five’s face. Twelve suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

“Yes,” Five whispered.

Silence hung over the clearing and Oakhammer smiled knowingly.

“Five?” Six asked uncertainly.

There were two bright spots of color on Five’s cheeks, but otherwise he was paler than when he’d been sick.

Six’s expression shifted through bewilderment and surprise to arrive at understanding. “You . . . you like me?” he asked. “Not just as a friend?”

Five’s eyes were on the ground, refusing to meet Six’s gaze. Twelve felt his pain and discomfort as though they were her own.

Above them, Oakhammer roared with laughter and Twelve squeezed her axes tighter, fury boiling through her with every beat of her heart. Dog’s growling intensified.

“That wasn’t your secret to tell!” she yelled at Oakhammer, her voice shrill. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can,” he sighed contentedly. “You asked for my help and agreed to the price.” His black-eyed gaze shifted to her and his smile sharpened behind his beard. “Now tell me, why did you join the Hunting Lodge?”

Twelve’s teeth ground together so tightly a muscle in her jaw spasmed. She wasn’t going to tell him anything. Beneath her furs, Widge dug his claws into her skin, his terror vibrating through her.

“Oh, come now,” Oakhammer chided. “Do I have to encourage you too? Very well.”

Beside her, Dog began to howl, his legs giving out beneath him as he fell writhing into the snow.

Twelve ran to him, horror coursing through her. “Stop it!” she screamed. “What have you done to him?”

“I’ve granted his heart’s desire,” Oakhammer said modestly. “He wishes to be real. What is more real than pain?”

The sight of Dog yowling, his limbs contorted, was almost more than Twelve could bear. Her hands clenched convulsively around her axes as tears prickled her eyes.

“Dog and I will think it very selfish if you don’t answer me soon,” Oakhammer prompted. “I would have thought you’d try harder to protect him. But then you’re not very good at protecting the ones you love, are you, Starling?”