Crow watched as the people in the streets began to retire to their homes. It seemed there wasn’t much of a nightlife in this part of Younis, as the road was quickly emptying and vendors were packing up their merchandise. [i]Is there a curfew for nobles here?[/i] The thought appeared unexpectedly in his head. With how strict the people in this kingdom seemed to be about protecting their king, he wouldn’t have been surprised if there was one. Either way, the sudden quiet made him want to get off the street and find a place to stay all the more quickly.

He then noticed part of the reason for the quiet was that Penelope had stopped talking to him. He glanced at her to see that she was staring tensely at something off to the side. Following her gaze, he saw a tall figure in a dark, hooded cloak who seemed to be watching them from an alley. He bristled nervously, his breath catching in his throat. [i]How did I not see him before?[/i] He silently cursed himself for being so complacent.

Just as Penelope began to ask him if he had seen the man too, the hooded figure raised a bow and fired an arrow in their direction with greater speed than Crow had ever seen in a knight. Fortunately, the attacker missed his mark, but the shock of what had just happened was enough to make the thief freeze in his tracks. Why was this stranger shooting at them? Why did it seem like everyone and their mother wanted him and Penelope dead? He wished these random assassins would just leave them alone.

Crow felt Penelope shove him between the shoulder blades, directing him to run with her into the nearest alleyway before the hooded figure could reload his bow. When they reached cover, he pressed his back against the wall and peeked out just far enough to take in the scene outside. The man who had attacked them was gone, and there were a few passerbys running to take refuge in the nearest buildings.

He rapidly assessed the situation. Whoever was trying to kill them obviously wasn’t known by the Younisians in the area, was exceptionally skilled with a bow, and seemed to close in on his target like a hunter, as was evident by his seamless disappearance. This guy knew what he was doing.

“I think it’s a mercenary,” Crow whispered to Penelope, meeting her gaze worriedly. He had only dealt with one other mercenary in his life—a knight in the outer villages had once paid a man to kill him, since he couldn’t do it himself—and he never wanted to do it again. Professional killers were the worst sort of people. Cold and calculating and completely ruthless, they were difficult to get away from after they put a target on one’s back. In fact, he would have been surprised if this man hadn’t already laid down traps for them in advance.

“Damn it,” Crow hissed. His green eyes flicked from one side of the alley to the other before landing on the opening at the far side. It looked clear enough, but… He blanched, suddenly, struck with a chilling realization. They weren’t safe in the alley. In fact, they had been cornered. [i]He missed on purpose,[/i] he pounded the wall with his fist in frustration. They had stepped right into a trap.

“Penelope,” he turned to her sharply. “We need to leave here now. He’s going to—” Before he could finish the sentence, he felt his breath leave him. When he had turned away from the edge of the alley they were standing next to, the hooded man had sprung out from behind the corner and slammed into him with the backside of his forearm, pinning him to the wall.

Head swimming from the impact, Crow finally had his first real look at the mercenary. The first thought that went through his mind was that the man was a giant. Crow was fairly tall by average standards, but this guy stood at least a head taller than him. His stature was matched by a body armored with rock hard muscles. The man held him effortlessly against the wall with just one beefy arm.

The mercenary’s face was intimidating as well. He had a shaved, scar-covered head, piercing blue eyes, and a mouth full of missing teeth that was contorted into a vicious snarl. He stood close enough to Crow that the thief could smell his rancid breath.

“Who sent you?” Crow managed to regain his bearings enough to spit out the question.

“[i]Kaia dirr raemk maw yai[/i],” the man growled. Crow raised a brow in surprise. Though he had heard many different languages in the outer villages, this one was unfamiliar to him. He winced. It was just his luck that the mercenary would speak a language he didn’t know.

“[i]Sa vo uvkorwarrk,[/i]” the mercenary went on in that strange foreign tongue. “[i]Kauy lorru ku kaxer.[/i]” He brandished a short sword, aiming the tip to strike upward, just beneath Crow’s ribcage.

The thief gritted his teeth, struggling fiercely against the man’s iron grip. It was no use though; he couldn’t break free. [i]Not now,[/i] he thought, pushing back helplessly against the mercenary’s muscular arm. [i]Not like this.[/i]