Much and I set to sorting the clothing into packages that we could give away. We could do that with the clothes since none were too distinct, but the jewelry and metals had to be melted and broken to sell raw. See, if Gisbourne were to find someone with something of his he could recognize, he’d kill the lamb for sure, innocent or not, and we couldn’t risk that. John and Rob took to hacking and snapping the other bits.

“Will you show me how to throw a knife, Scar?” Much asked, quiet.

I looked up at him. He weren’t looking at me; he were tying off a package of clothing. “Not sure if it’s your weapon.”

He frowned. “I know I’d have to borrow your knife.”

I shook my head, pointing at Rob with one of my knives. He had his long bow strapped ’cross his back. “Bow is Rob’s weapon. It suits him. He moves with it; it works like his arms got pulled out and shaped to a bow.”

“It’s part of him,” Much said, tucking his bad arm ’neath his cloak.

I nodded. “I’ll teach you, but I ain’t sure it’s your weapon.”

“Of course it’s not,” he muttered, piling more clothes.

“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.