For the rest of the afternoon, Crow tried to distract himself by going on another hunting trip with Alistair in the woods to the west of their camp. He hoped that by keeping himself busy, he would be able to forget about Penelope and start to move on with his life. After all, she had made it quite clear to him that she wanted nothing more to do with him after what he had done. There was proof enough of that in the way she had accused him of lying when he’d tried to explain himself. She’d claimed that she would give him another chance, but even then, all she had wanted was information about Jaxon. She hadn’t cared enough to let him even try to prove to her that he wasn’t an enemy and that he’d only worked for the murderer because he hadn’t had another choice. Her trust in him was shattered, and there was no way he was ever going to get it back.

As he roamed the forest with his friend, he tried to tell himself that it was better this way. Even though it hurt, he now knew for sure that the lives of knights and thieves could never mix. Earlier that day, during lunch, he had decided to confess his to his companions about his dealings with Jaxon. He wasn’t sure if he had done it out of some strange self-destructive tendency or if he had just been seeking to make someone understand what he had been going through. Of course, the others weren’t happy when they found out the news, especially Hazel, but they accepted his word and understood that he had been blackmailed by the other thief. Their forgiveness made him feel better about everything, but it also made him see just how foolish he had been to try and make his lawless lifestyle work with a knight’s path of justice.

Crow crouched behind a bush with Alistair as they spotted some rabbits in a clearing to the north. Penelope would never be able to understand him, but his companions did. What the knight had called cowardice was, to them, a way of life. When the going got tough, they sought the first way to save themselves. It was how they survived on their own without the support of anyone else. The knights were backed by the king, but the thieves were fugitives with no one to turn to when they needed help. The only way they could find protection in the war was by pandering to their powerful enemies and hoping they could earn enough favor to be given special treatment. It wasn’t a noble way to live by any means, but it was effective, and it was the only way for them to ensure their freedoms if Younis conquered Brerra. He had thought that Penelope would come around eventually whenever he told her that he could guarantee her safety too, but apparently, he had been wrong. A knight like her would never stray from her values, even if it meant going down with the rest of their kingdom.

He raised his bow and took aim at one of the larger rabbits, holding it steady for a moment before he loosed his arrow. An outcry from the animal told him that his shot had landed, and he stood up again to collect the spoils. His heart fluttered nervously in his chest as he approached the rabbit with a knife to finish it off, and he chided himself. He had gone hunting plenty of times. Killing the animal shouldn’t have bothered him anymore. He crouched down beside it and pressed his knife to its throat but wavered as he looked down at the small creature. Its chest rose and fell with rapid breaths and its eyes were wide with fright. There was an innocence to it that suddenly made him feel guilty for taking its life.

He rested his free hand on the rabbit’s side, trailing his fingers through its soft brown fur, and he gritted his teeth. Why was he so weak? It was just an animal. He had killed knights in battle plenty of times now. It shouldn’t have been this hard to finish off a rodent that he was going to bring home to eat. Yet, somehow, there was something holding him back.

“What’s the holdup?” Alistair had noticed his hesitation and stepped over to see what was taking so long.

“It’s nothing,” Crow mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Alistair frowned and glanced down at the rabbit. “You know it’s just going to suffer longer if you don’t finish it off,” he pointed out. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No,” Crow shook his head. “I shot it, so I should finish what I started.”

“If you say so,” Alistair shrugged. “Just don’t take too much longer. I want to bring home at least a couple more before sunset.”

Crow nodded absently and turned his attention back to the trembling animal. Alistair was right. He needed to just finish the job and put the creature out of its misery. Finally working up the nerve to do it, he took a steeling breath and tensed to drag his knife across its throat, but then froze as the rabbit lifted its head. It almost seemed to be looking at him, but that wasn’t what made the thief stop. Across its left eye was a jagged scar, one that sent an image of Penelope flashing vividly through his mind.

He wanted to laugh. The gods had to have been mocking him. What other reason could there be for his first kill of the hunt to bear an uncanny resemblance to the woman he was trying to forget? Feeling a surge of rebellious energy, he closed his eyes and cut the rabbit’s throat. Its head dropped back to the ground, hiding the scar once more.

“Finally,” Alistair smirked. “I was beginning to think we were going to be here all day.”

Crow rolled his eyes at his friend’s gibe but said nothing. Despite having killed the animal, he was still quite unnerved by its scar. He had never seen anything like it on a rabbit before. It was strange, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about it. Suddenly, he had a strong desire to look at it again.

Tentatively, he reached out to slip his hand around the left side of its muzzle, pulling slowly as he lifted its head off the grass. However, in the next moment, his eyes widened, and he dropped it again.

“What was that?” Alistair knitted his brow, noticing his leader’s abrupt reaction. “Is there something wrong with it?”

Crow didn’t answer as he stared down at the corpse, still reeling as he tried to process what was going on. When he had lifted the animal’s head to get a second look at the scar, it was gone. There wasn’t even a trace left. [i]But that’s not possible,[/i] he thought, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. [i]I know I saw it. There was a scar there just a second ago.[/i] For a moment, he wondered if he was going mad—perhaps he was still so desperate to hold onto Penelope that he was seeing things—but that didn’t make sense. He was certain the scar had been there. It was as clear as day.

Suddenly, he felt his heart drop as another thought came to him. What if it was an omen? Penelope was currently leading a patrol to take down the most dangerous man he had ever met. What if his feeling that something was going to go wrong wasn’t just pointless worry? What if she was in danger, and this rabbit was a warning? He couldn’t breathe.

“Crow?” Alistair leaned down to shake his shoulder. “You’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on?”

Abruptly, Crow stood up and turned towards the west side of the forest. It was only early evening, and the knights were probably planning to strike after nightfall. If he left now, he could still make it in time.

“Crow!” Alistair raised his voice this time, grabbing his arm and giving it a sharp tug to force him to turn around. “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

Crow blinked, coming back to himself slightly. However, his eyes drifted down to the rabbit one more time, and he tensed, stepping back to remove himself from his companion’s hold. “I’m sorry,” he said, backing away slowly. “There’s something I have to do.”

“What do you mean there’s something—Crow!” Alistair’s eyes widened as Crow suddenly spun around and sprinted into the surrounding trees.

“Tell the others not to worry and that I’ll be back soon!” he called over his shoulder. Without waiting for a reply, he turned forward again and hastened his pace, running as fast as he could manage without tripping as he made his way towards Wheldrake.