Vaunivor
Tlazolteotl
Syrenrei
AHeartlessNobody
nachonacho
VampiretwilightAs Penelope walked away to return to the other knights, Crow turned to head back to his old house, where he planned to stay for the night. Watching the surrounding alleyways for movement, he absently thought about how long it had been since the last time he had slept there. After his mother had passed, he had moved out of the place right away, partly to get away from the unpleasant memory of being with her on her deathbed, but mostly because she had told him that he should leave. She had known he wasn’t going to stop stealing after she died, so she had wanted to make sure the local knights wouldn’t be able to find him. He smiled faintly to himself. Even in her final hours she had always looked out for him.
After a while of reminiscing, the thief arrived at the doorstep of the old house. He casted a quick look around to make sure he hadn’t been followed—although, he didn’t try very hard, since he knew the only people around who might have seen him were the local knights, and they would have confronted him if they had—and then stepped inside, shrugging off his bag and cloak as he closed the door behind him. He set the pack down near the table and draped the heavy fabric over the back of the chair, arching his back in a weary stretch. After spending so many days sleeping on the ground, it would be nice to lay down on a mattress for once, even if that mattress was patched and full of old hay.
Once he had finished getting ready to retire for the night, he yawned widely and collapsed on the bed. His exhaustion from the five long days of traveling with the knights hit him at once. Drawing his blanket up to his chin, it wasn’t long before he drifted off into a light sleep.
--
The first thing Crow was aware of was the sound of feather light footsteps, moving slowly across the old wooden floor of the house.
Immediately, he tensed and cracked one eye open, only to see a tall figure, silhouetted against the moonlight that filtered in through the window, looming over his bed. His breath caught in his throat. Had a bounty hunter found his hideout? He hadn’t seen or heard anyone follow him back from his parting with the knights. How could someone have found him? He didn’t have time to think about it as another detail about the mysterious stranger caught his attention: In the man’s hands—he guessed the person was male based on his height—was a sword. The blade glinted sinisterly in the low light as the assassin held it poised to stab downward over the bed.
With no time to assess what was going on, Crow quickly rolled out of the way just before the man brought down his weapon. The sword sank into the mattress where the thief’s chest had been mere seconds before. Hurriedly untangling himself from his blanket, he scrambled off the bed and moved to put distance between himself and whomever was trying to kill him. His heart raced as he eyed the stranger, who had just finished pulling his weapon free. This wasn’t good. In his haste to get away from the blade, he had left his own dagger on the edge of the mattress, far from reach. He muttered a curse under his breath.
“What is this?” he spat, shooting the figure a venomous glare. “How did you know I was here?”
The man chuckled in response. Something about the lilt of his laugh sent a chill down the thief’s spine. He turned towards Crow, but the hood of his cloak concealed all but a smirking mouth from view. “Very good,” he purred in an icy voice. “It seems you’re not as washed up as I was expecting.”
Crow stared at the man, wide-eyed. He recognized that voice anywhere. “Jaxon?” he hated how surprised he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. His mind was reeling as he tried to understand what was happening. He and the knights had been searching for almost a week for this thief, and now here he was, standing right in front of him. He wasn’t sure what to think. All he knew was that he had to keep his guard up. After all, they hadn’t parted on the greatest of terms. Jaxon could have shown up to silence him, just like he did everyone else that he considered to be a threat to his posse. It certainly seemed like that was what he had come for, after he had nearly run his sword through his chest. Crow fixed his gaze on the blade warily.
“The one and only,” the smirk widened into a toothy grin as Jaxon reached up to lower the hood of his cloak. “Did you miss me?”
“Hardly,” Crow snorted, tilting his chin up slightly, though he continued to keep a close watch of the other thief’s sword hand. “So, you’ve finally come to do me in, huh?”
“Not quite,” Jaxon shrugged, carelessly examining the silvery edge of his blade. “That was just a test. I’m sure you remember that I only take in the sharpest of weapons, after all.”
Crow blinked, caught slightly off guard by the other thief’s words. “I hope you didn’t come all this way just to offer me my old spot back,” he said slowly. “But if you did, I’ll just save you the trouble: I don’t accept.”
Jaxon chuckled again, his dark eyes flicking up to meet Crow’s gaze, “Oh, it’s not as simple as that.” He strode across the room towards the other thief, who stiffened in response. Crow couldn’t tell what he was trying to do, but he didn’t trust Jaxon enough to wait around and find out. He took a step back, ready to run if the man got too close to him.
At this sight of the motion, Jaxon stopped walking and frowned. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” he clicked his tongue in a distinct tsk sound.
“We’ve never been friends,” Crow curled his lip coldly. “You know how I feel about you and your little group. I left for a reason.”
“Yes, I know,” Jaxon’s gaze hardened slightly. “And you took some of my thieves with you. Speaking of which,” his lip quirked upward in a foreboding smile. “How are they doing?”
Crow eyed him suspiciously, “They’re fine. In fact, they’re better than ever now that they’re with me instead of you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Crow faltered. He didn’t like the knowing edge in Jaxon’s voice. It felt like the other thief knew something that he didn’t. Heartbeat quickening with nervousness, he shot the man a distrusting look, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s unimportant,” Jaxon waved his hand dismissively. “I came to make a deal with you. I believe it is one that you’ll be eager to accept.”
“Forget it,” Crow scoffed. “There’s nothing you could give me that I want, and I refuse to work with your murderers again.”
Tsk. “I wouldn’t be so hasty if I were you,” Jaxon took another step forward. Crow flinched, but before he could react, the other thief’s hand shot out and caught hold of his right wrist. He felt Jaxon pull back on the sleeve of his shirt, and he averted his gaze, all too aware of what the man was trying to do.
As the fabric slid up to his elbow, a long, thin scar was revealed that stretched the length of most of his forearm. It had faded quite a bit, and could easily be mistaken for an old battle wound caused by an enemy’s sword. Jaxon traced it with two fingers. “You act like you can do whatever you please, but don’t forget,” his eyes flicked up to the other thief’s face. “I own you. No matter how long you’ve been away, you still belong to me. This mark is proof of that.”
Crow rolled his eyes, “If that were true, I never would have escaped from your group in the first place.”
“Did you really escape though?”
“Of course I did,” he narrowed his eyes at Jaxon. “And you were never able to find me or the thieves I took with me when I left.”
“That’s adorable,” Jaxon smirked again. “You really think I would waste my time hunting down a few rebellious mutts? No, no. I let you all go of my own volition.”
“And just why would you do that?” Crow sighed, clearly not believing a word the other thief was saying. “I know you kill anyone who betrays you. There’s no way you would have made an exception for us.”
“It was an investment,” Jaxon answered casually. “Why would I kill you when I could save your talents for a later time? As I said before: You belong to me, and you will do as I say.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Crow snarled. “I’m not going to lift a finger to help the likes of you, so you might as well turn around and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
“Feisty,” Jaxon clicked his tongue again. “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes.”
“That’s too bad,” the thief sighed sadly, letting go of Crow’s wrist. “The poor girl still had her whole life ahead of her too.”
“What was that?” Crow frowned confusedly.
“Oh, nothing,” Jaxon shook his head. “I just think it’s unfortunate that an innocent woman has to die now.” He looked up to meet the other thief’s gaze. “You didn’t really think I was just going to let you go without consequence, did you? Now that you’ve refused my offer, I’m going to take the life of that girl. What was her name again?” He paused, lifting a hand to his chin in thought before turning back to Crow with a sinister smirk. “Penelope?”
Crow felt the color drain from his face.
His reaction only seemed to encourage Jaxon. “It’s sad, really,” he exhaled. “If you had only accepted my offer, she wouldn’t have to die.” He shrugged, turning to leave. “Oh well. Too late now.”
Crow stared after him in dismay. How had Jaxon learned about his relationship with Penelope? He didn’t have time to think about it as the other thief made his way towards the door. He couldn’t figure out how Jaxon knew about the knight, but he did know that if he planned to kill her, there wasn’t much he could do to stop him.
“W-wait,” Crow took a step after him, wide eyed with panic. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll hear you out.”
“Sorry,” Jaxon shook his head without turning around. “You had your chance, and now it’s gone. The woman will die for your stubbornness.”
Crow clenched his hands into fists at his sides. He wanted to go after the other thief, but Jaxon was much more skilled at fighting than he was. If he attacked him now, he would only die, and the man would still kill Penelope. He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. As much as he loathed it, there was only one course of action he could take.
He dropped to his knees and lowered his head to the ground. “Please,” he begged desperately. “I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. Just leave her alone.”
Finally, Jaxon turned around, a pleased smile crossing his features, “That’s a good dog.” He walked back to stand over the groveling thief. “You may stand.”
Crow ground his teeth in frustration. Every fiber of his being protested against obeying Jaxon like some sort of trained animal, but what other choice did he have? The man held Penelope’s life in the palm of his hand. So, forcing down his wounded pride, he rose slowly to his feet, averting his gaze to keep from looking the other thief in the eyes. “What do you want from me?” his voice strained slightly as he fought to keep it level.
“I know you’ve been working with the knights to track me down,” Jaxon said. “As infuriating as it is that you would turn traitor to our kind, I’ve decided that I can forgive it. All you have to do for me is continue joining their patrols and working at their sides.”
“You want me to keep working with them?” Crow knitted his brow.
“Yes,” Jaxon nodded. “However, you will no longer be working for them.” He grinned. “Instead, you will be reporting to me. I want to know everything: where they’re searching for us, how many knights are in each area, and what sort of tactics they’re using to flush us out. Additionally, I want you to lead astray any knights who get too close to my camp which, by the way, is in the forest between Aramoor and Wheldrake.”
Our lead was real after all, Crow thought in mild surprise. “So, you want me to be your spy,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.
“I’m sure it won’t be difficult for you,” Jaxon’s grin widened. “You seem to have already earned their trust well enough. Use that trust to find out what I want to know.”
“And just how am I supposed to do that?”
“You’re a clever man,” Jaxon shrugged. “Figure it out.” He turned slightly, as if to leave, but then paused as another thought seemed to cross his mind. “One more thing.” Before Crow had a chance to react, the other thief reached out and caught hold of his wrist one more time. In one swift motion, he pulled back the sleeve of his tunic and dragged a cut along his forearm with his sword, directly over the top of the old scar.
Crow grimaced at the unexpected sting of the blade. “What the hell was that for?” he growled, yanking his arm out of the man’s grip and pressing his left hand against the bleeding wound.
“You seemed to have forgotten your place tonight,” Jaxon said nonchalantly as he sheathed his weapon. “I only wanted to ensure that doesn’t happen again.” He looked up again to meet Crow’s gaze. “I will meet you here in three nights. Don’t tell anyone we’ve met, don’t try to run, and don’t try anything funny or else the woman dies.” He drew the hood of his cloak over his head once more. “I’ll see you then, Crow.” With that, he turned and vanished out the door, disappearing into the night almost as quickly as he had appeared.
After a while of reminiscing, the thief arrived at the doorstep of the old house. He casted a quick look around to make sure he hadn’t been followed—although, he didn’t try very hard, since he knew the only people around who might have seen him were the local knights, and they would have confronted him if they had—and then stepped inside, shrugging off his bag and cloak as he closed the door behind him. He set the pack down near the table and draped the heavy fabric over the back of the chair, arching his back in a weary stretch. After spending so many days sleeping on the ground, it would be nice to lay down on a mattress for once, even if that mattress was patched and full of old hay.
Once he had finished getting ready to retire for the night, he yawned widely and collapsed on the bed. His exhaustion from the five long days of traveling with the knights hit him at once. Drawing his blanket up to his chin, it wasn’t long before he drifted off into a light sleep.
--
The first thing Crow was aware of was the sound of feather light footsteps, moving slowly across the old wooden floor of the house.
Immediately, he tensed and cracked one eye open, only to see a tall figure, silhouetted against the moonlight that filtered in through the window, looming over his bed. His breath caught in his throat. Had a bounty hunter found his hideout? He hadn’t seen or heard anyone follow him back from his parting with the knights. How could someone have found him? He didn’t have time to think about it as another detail about the mysterious stranger caught his attention: In the man’s hands—he guessed the person was male based on his height—was a sword. The blade glinted sinisterly in the low light as the assassin held it poised to stab downward over the bed.
With no time to assess what was going on, Crow quickly rolled out of the way just before the man brought down his weapon. The sword sank into the mattress where the thief’s chest had been mere seconds before. Hurriedly untangling himself from his blanket, he scrambled off the bed and moved to put distance between himself and whomever was trying to kill him. His heart raced as he eyed the stranger, who had just finished pulling his weapon free. This wasn’t good. In his haste to get away from the blade, he had left his own dagger on the edge of the mattress, far from reach. He muttered a curse under his breath.
“What is this?” he spat, shooting the figure a venomous glare. “How did you know I was here?”
The man chuckled in response. Something about the lilt of his laugh sent a chill down the thief’s spine. He turned towards Crow, but the hood of his cloak concealed all but a smirking mouth from view. “Very good,” he purred in an icy voice. “It seems you’re not as washed up as I was expecting.”
Crow stared at the man, wide-eyed. He recognized that voice anywhere. “Jaxon?” he hated how surprised he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. His mind was reeling as he tried to understand what was happening. He and the knights had been searching for almost a week for this thief, and now here he was, standing right in front of him. He wasn’t sure what to think. All he knew was that he had to keep his guard up. After all, they hadn’t parted on the greatest of terms. Jaxon could have shown up to silence him, just like he did everyone else that he considered to be a threat to his posse. It certainly seemed like that was what he had come for, after he had nearly run his sword through his chest. Crow fixed his gaze on the blade warily.
“The one and only,” the smirk widened into a toothy grin as Jaxon reached up to lower the hood of his cloak. “Did you miss me?”
“Hardly,” Crow snorted, tilting his chin up slightly, though he continued to keep a close watch of the other thief’s sword hand. “So, you’ve finally come to do me in, huh?”
“Not quite,” Jaxon shrugged, carelessly examining the silvery edge of his blade. “That was just a test. I’m sure you remember that I only take in the sharpest of weapons, after all.”
Crow blinked, caught slightly off guard by the other thief’s words. “I hope you didn’t come all this way just to offer me my old spot back,” he said slowly. “But if you did, I’ll just save you the trouble: I don’t accept.”
Jaxon chuckled again, his dark eyes flicking up to meet Crow’s gaze, “Oh, it’s not as simple as that.” He strode across the room towards the other thief, who stiffened in response. Crow couldn’t tell what he was trying to do, but he didn’t trust Jaxon enough to wait around and find out. He took a step back, ready to run if the man got too close to him.
At this sight of the motion, Jaxon stopped walking and frowned. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” he clicked his tongue in a distinct tsk sound.
“We’ve never been friends,” Crow curled his lip coldly. “You know how I feel about you and your little group. I left for a reason.”
“Yes, I know,” Jaxon’s gaze hardened slightly. “And you took some of my thieves with you. Speaking of which,” his lip quirked upward in a foreboding smile. “How are they doing?”
Crow eyed him suspiciously, “They’re fine. In fact, they’re better than ever now that they’re with me instead of you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Crow faltered. He didn’t like the knowing edge in Jaxon’s voice. It felt like the other thief knew something that he didn’t. Heartbeat quickening with nervousness, he shot the man a distrusting look, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s unimportant,” Jaxon waved his hand dismissively. “I came to make a deal with you. I believe it is one that you’ll be eager to accept.”
“Forget it,” Crow scoffed. “There’s nothing you could give me that I want, and I refuse to work with your murderers again.”
Tsk. “I wouldn’t be so hasty if I were you,” Jaxon took another step forward. Crow flinched, but before he could react, the other thief’s hand shot out and caught hold of his right wrist. He felt Jaxon pull back on the sleeve of his shirt, and he averted his gaze, all too aware of what the man was trying to do.
As the fabric slid up to his elbow, a long, thin scar was revealed that stretched the length of most of his forearm. It had faded quite a bit, and could easily be mistaken for an old battle wound caused by an enemy’s sword. Jaxon traced it with two fingers. “You act like you can do whatever you please, but don’t forget,” his eyes flicked up to the other thief’s face. “I own you. No matter how long you’ve been away, you still belong to me. This mark is proof of that.”
Crow rolled his eyes, “If that were true, I never would have escaped from your group in the first place.”
“Did you really escape though?”
“Of course I did,” he narrowed his eyes at Jaxon. “And you were never able to find me or the thieves I took with me when I left.”
“That’s adorable,” Jaxon smirked again. “You really think I would waste my time hunting down a few rebellious mutts? No, no. I let you all go of my own volition.”
“And just why would you do that?” Crow sighed, clearly not believing a word the other thief was saying. “I know you kill anyone who betrays you. There’s no way you would have made an exception for us.”
“It was an investment,” Jaxon answered casually. “Why would I kill you when I could save your talents for a later time? As I said before: You belong to me, and you will do as I say.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Crow snarled. “I’m not going to lift a finger to help the likes of you, so you might as well turn around and go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
“Feisty,” Jaxon clicked his tongue again. “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes.”
“That’s too bad,” the thief sighed sadly, letting go of Crow’s wrist. “The poor girl still had her whole life ahead of her too.”
“What was that?” Crow frowned confusedly.
“Oh, nothing,” Jaxon shook his head. “I just think it’s unfortunate that an innocent woman has to die now.” He looked up to meet the other thief’s gaze. “You didn’t really think I was just going to let you go without consequence, did you? Now that you’ve refused my offer, I’m going to take the life of that girl. What was her name again?” He paused, lifting a hand to his chin in thought before turning back to Crow with a sinister smirk. “Penelope?”
Crow felt the color drain from his face.
His reaction only seemed to encourage Jaxon. “It’s sad, really,” he exhaled. “If you had only accepted my offer, she wouldn’t have to die.” He shrugged, turning to leave. “Oh well. Too late now.”
Crow stared after him in dismay. How had Jaxon learned about his relationship with Penelope? He didn’t have time to think about it as the other thief made his way towards the door. He couldn’t figure out how Jaxon knew about the knight, but he did know that if he planned to kill her, there wasn’t much he could do to stop him.
“W-wait,” Crow took a step after him, wide eyed with panic. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll hear you out.”
“Sorry,” Jaxon shook his head without turning around. “You had your chance, and now it’s gone. The woman will die for your stubbornness.”
Crow clenched his hands into fists at his sides. He wanted to go after the other thief, but Jaxon was much more skilled at fighting than he was. If he attacked him now, he would only die, and the man would still kill Penelope. He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut. As much as he loathed it, there was only one course of action he could take.
He dropped to his knees and lowered his head to the ground. “Please,” he begged desperately. “I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. Just leave her alone.”
Finally, Jaxon turned around, a pleased smile crossing his features, “That’s a good dog.” He walked back to stand over the groveling thief. “You may stand.”
Crow ground his teeth in frustration. Every fiber of his being protested against obeying Jaxon like some sort of trained animal, but what other choice did he have? The man held Penelope’s life in the palm of his hand. So, forcing down his wounded pride, he rose slowly to his feet, averting his gaze to keep from looking the other thief in the eyes. “What do you want from me?” his voice strained slightly as he fought to keep it level.
“I know you’ve been working with the knights to track me down,” Jaxon said. “As infuriating as it is that you would turn traitor to our kind, I’ve decided that I can forgive it. All you have to do for me is continue joining their patrols and working at their sides.”
“You want me to keep working with them?” Crow knitted his brow.
“Yes,” Jaxon nodded. “However, you will no longer be working for them.” He grinned. “Instead, you will be reporting to me. I want to know everything: where they’re searching for us, how many knights are in each area, and what sort of tactics they’re using to flush us out. Additionally, I want you to lead astray any knights who get too close to my camp which, by the way, is in the forest between Aramoor and Wheldrake.”
Our lead was real after all, Crow thought in mild surprise. “So, you want me to be your spy,” he said, folding his arms over his chest.
“I’m sure it won’t be difficult for you,” Jaxon’s grin widened. “You seem to have already earned their trust well enough. Use that trust to find out what I want to know.”
“And just how am I supposed to do that?”
“You’re a clever man,” Jaxon shrugged. “Figure it out.” He turned slightly, as if to leave, but then paused as another thought seemed to cross his mind. “One more thing.” Before Crow had a chance to react, the other thief reached out and caught hold of his wrist one more time. In one swift motion, he pulled back the sleeve of his tunic and dragged a cut along his forearm with his sword, directly over the top of the old scar.
Crow grimaced at the unexpected sting of the blade. “What the hell was that for?” he growled, yanking his arm out of the man’s grip and pressing his left hand against the bleeding wound.
“You seemed to have forgotten your place tonight,” Jaxon said nonchalantly as he sheathed his weapon. “I only wanted to ensure that doesn’t happen again.” He looked up again to meet Crow’s gaze. “I will meet you here in three nights. Don’t tell anyone we’ve met, don’t try to run, and don’t try anything funny or else the woman dies.” He drew the hood of his cloak over his head once more. “I’ll see you then, Crow.” With that, he turned and vanished out the door, disappearing into the night almost as quickly as he had appeared.