Crow sprinted through the forest until the sounds from the nobles’ campsite faded to a mere murmur in the distance. He wanted to be absolutely sure he was safe before he risked slowing down. Once he felt confident he wasn’t being pursued, he stopped, leaning against a tree for support as he caught his breath. After spending a year in prison, his stamina wasn’t anything near what it used to be, and all that running he had just done was taking a heavy toll on his strength. He hoped the knights would give him time to eat before they headed out again. The thief blinked. [i]The knights.[/i] Where were they? He hadn’t come across them on his way back towards the village. He wondered if they had already reached the village or if they had gotten captured before they made it to the safe point. In spite of himself, he found that he hoped the former was true. At least, he hoped it was true for Penelope.

[i]I’m just tired,[/i] Crow rationalized, starting to walk again now that he had caught his breath. [i]Who cares what happened to them? If they were killed, I get to walk away free. It’s better for me that way.[/i] Yet somehow he couldn’t rid himself of the anxious pit in his stomach. To make matters worse, the fresh burn wounds on his arms and face were beginning to pain him. Fortunately, they weren’t very bad because of the water he had drenched himself in before he leaped through the fire, but they would definitely be sore for a while. “If they are still alive, those knights had better be grateful for what I did,” he grumbled, absently tracing a burn on his arm with one finger.

For the most part, Crow’s walk back to the village was uneventful. The nobles had given up chasing him long ago, so he was free to meander at a leisurely pace while his strength slowly returned. However, as he neared the outskirts of the village, he froze, hearing the snap of a twig. Instantly, his instincts as a thief kicked in and he tensed, ready to run at the first sign of danger. Had the nobles somehow caught up with him? He hoped not. While he had regained some of his energy, he was still too exhausted to run again. If they attacked him now, he had no chance of fighting back.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

Crow drew the dagger in his boot and shifted into a defensive stance, his eyes narrow and focused as he tried to locate the source of the noise. He didn’t have to try very hard though, because in the next moment, a figure lunged out from behind a tree, swinging a short blade at him. The thief parried the attacker’s blow with his own weapon and prepared himself to flee, but then halted in recognition.

“Penelope?” he said, lifting his hands in the air and dropping his dagger. “Wait, stop! It’s me: Crow.”