“You most certainly are [i]not[/i] fine,” Crow said quietly, throwing Penelope a glare. “You’re bleeding all over yourself! I don’t know about you, but I think that qualifies as a life-threatening injury.” He let out a frustrated huff and shook his head, closing his eyes as he tried to recompose himself. In the rational part of his mind, he knew he was acting ridiculous. He needed to calm down and stop getting so flustered over a wound that wasn’t even his own. He was needlessly working himself up, which in turn distracted him from plotting a plan for escape. His irrational fear was just causing more problems.

Crow opened his eyes when the guard called him useless. His discomfort momentarily forgotten, he shot the man a venomous look, “Pardon? I’m the most useful person in this little group. These knights are just my bodyguards.”

“Is that right?” the other man spoke up, crossing his arms. “And just how are you so useful, thief?”

Crow was about to respond, but William kicked him hard in the leg again and whispered harshly, “Shut up, you idiot. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re trying to tell them [i]nothing[/i] about what we’re doing here.”

“Why?” Crow frowned and studied the two guards standing before them. “They’re obviously not Younisian, and I doubt they’re smart enough to be spies, so what’s the harm in giving them what they want and going on our way? I’d much prefer to fess up and live than die keeping some secret for the king.”

“And that’s exactly why you need to shut up and let us handle the situation,” William snapped under his breath. “You like to act, so why don’t you play the role of a useless peasant? You can stand aside while Penelope, Abraxas, and I take care of these people.”

“Hey,” one of the guards interrupted sternly. “Stop talking over there.”

Crow shot William one final glare and dropped his gaze, fiddling irritably with the chains around his wrists. The group that captured them was undoubtedly hostile, but the thief still didn’t see what would be so bad about telling them about the king’s assignment. He was a survivor. If spoiling one mission meant that he could live to see another day, he had no problem in doing so. But, unfortunately, the knights didn’t seem to agree.