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Scarlet

“Hey,” I said, enough bite that he looked up. “I ain’t saying you don’t have a weapon, Much.”

His eyebrows got bunched up tight together. “Sure you are. I only have one decent arm. How can I fight worth a damn?”

My mouth twisted, and I pushed him. “Shut it, Much. People think I can’t fight worth a damn, even not knowing I’m a girl, and I prove ’em wrong. We prove ’em wrong. And I have an idea, all right?”

He shook his head. “You lot think I’m not good for anything. John says as much every chance he gets.”

“Oh, and he would know? All he does is hit things.”

He rubbed his chest where I shoved him. “You do a fair lot of hitting yourself, Scar.”

“Don’t make me do it again. John ain’t the be-all of opinions.”

He sighed, going back to his pile of clothing.

“Look, I ain’t saying it will be fair easy.” I pushed up my sleeve and showed him loads of little white scars from nicks and cuts. “I were terrible with my knives when I first started, but they were the only weapons I could hold and hide, so I learned them.” I showed him the ribbon on one of them. “And then they learned me.”

“I don’t understand.”

I ran the ribbon through my hands. “I used to tie ribbons on them to grab them quick. They’re my hair ribbons. And then when Rob nabbed me in London, I wouldn’t tell him my name. So he called me Mr. Scarlet till he found out I were a girl. Then it were just Scarlet.”

“It’s not your real name?”

My eyes met his, fair serious, fair dark. I shook my head slow.

He looked at me for a long time, and I looked down. When his mouth opened, I said, “What’s the rock you’ve been cutting at?”

He looked up. His face changed a little, and for a breath he were looking at me like he looked at Rob. “Want to see?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

He smiled and jumped to his feet. I followed him, going to the fire pit. He took a smaller log from the banked fire and went into the corner of the cave. I could see he’d hollowed out a vein in the big rock, collecting the graveled bits in a bowl. He put the torch on the ground, then stepped far back, pushing me with his bad arm.

He took a pinch of the grayish powder. “Don’t scream,” he said with a smile.

I scowled. “I don’t scream, Much.”

“You might.”

He flicked the powder toward the flame.

It caught, flaring up in a bright white flash that looked like God himself came into the cave with no burning bush to announce him.

I knocked Much over, covering our heads, slamming to the stone ground in a pile.

He were chuckling as my vision came back slow. White light were still arcing ’cross my eyeballs, but it were beginning to feel more like the Devil’s work than God’s.

“What in Christ’s name was that?” Rob shouted. Smoke were rolling out of the cave, but the burning were done. He and John were waving their arms like it would do any good.

“Not sure,” Much called.

I slapped his chest. “Me neither, but good job, Much.” I looked to him, and he smiled. “Rob, I think Much might know a way to stall the sheriff a bit.”

“I do?”

I sat up, pulling Much with me, and looked at the powder. “Don’t you? Seems to me the only thing we didn’t reckon is that the sheriff can’t go after the people if he’s busy with his own bits.”

Rob came forward. “You want to set an explosion?” He looked to Much. “Do you have enough of this powder?”

“To tumble Castle Rock? No, but maybe I can find some more in the other caves.”

“Do it.”

It took us two full days to move what we could, sell some of the metal, then give away the clothes and stockpile the jewels and coin. It also meant two days off the road, and it felt like time were sinking its claws into us.

We met in the inn that night, and I came in unnoticed as usual. My head were beating like a hammer from the cut and bruise surrounding it; since the guard clobbered me it had lumped up and colored dark, and my hat pushed on it tight. Still, I’d rather the pain than strutting ’bout without my hat, so I were fair out of luck. I also had bad news, and that never put me in a good mind.

John nodded to me as I slid in.

“Rob’s not here yet?”

“No. Tuck made you a meat pie,” he told me. He moved over, meaning I should sit next to him. I looked around. Much were sitting on the edge of the other end of the bench, no room beside him. The bench kind of curled around the table. I sighed and sat next to John. There were a pie, and it had an S cut into the top of it. It smelled better’n Heaven. I picked up the spoon and stabbed it, taking a scoop and eating it. My stomach rolled and I stopped, wondering if I had waited too long to eat. I could feel John looking at me, so I tried another bite.

Rob came in then, and his eyes went straight to me and the food. I took another bite and my stomach twisted. “Finish that, Scar. You didn’t eat breakfast.”

“And you only took a bite of dinner last night,” Much reminded.

I glared. “Thanks, Much.”

Rob crossed his arms, and I took another bite. Sweat broke on my head; I felt like I were going to retch it all back up.

“Well, the good news—after a fashion—is that I couldn’t fence the weapons; they are too distinct. No one around here is selling anything like them. So we all just got new weapons. Scar, you just got your knives back.”

I winced out a bit of a smile, and he stayed watching me for a second. I took another bite. I held it in my mouth, trying not to swallow, but he just watched me.

I swallowed, and he looked away.

“Christ,” I moaned, jumping up and slamming out the back door. I just made it outside when all the food rushed back up. My knees wobbled and gave out as I retched again, but Rob’s arm caught me around my waist, holding me against him.

I retched one more time and tried to get my legs under me. “Easy,” said John’s voice.

I looked up, trying to pull away. It were John? Why had I thought it would be Rob catching me?

“Easy, easy,” he repeated, rubbing my back.

“Stop touching me, please,” I muttered. He stopped rubbing, but his arm didn’t leave my waist. I pushed him off, crouching down over my knees. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. My head were beating out a mean tune.

“You all right?” Rob asked. I turned and saw Rob and Much standing there. Rob’s arms were crossed and he looked dark. I hated the way they were all looking at me.

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