“I’m not going. Just thought about it,” I told him. “’Sides, we keep each other safe.” I said it for Robin, but I weren’t so sure. I weren’t sure if anything could keep me much safe from Gisbourne.

He sucked in a breath, holding my eyes, and his face came a little closer to mine. He were looking at my scar when he said, “Yeah, we do.” He let the breath go, rocking his body back and away. “Don’t go to the prison alone anymore, all right?”

A frown rolled over my face. “Don’t make me promise that.”

“Scar, please. Doesn’t matter who you take, just take someone with you. It’s not much to ask.”

’Course it were. I weren’t the sort to have people to go with, people looking after, and I were fair sure I didn’t want to change that none.

We turned around to go back, and his shoulder brushed against mine. He pulled away quick. I scowled.

That’s how it were between me and Rob—he’d say such things that made my chest feel like porridge instead of a heart, and just when I thought it might mean something more than me being a fool girl, he’d pull away sharp. It were just Rob’s way—he were the hero with everyone, and like Much couldn’t help but be enthralled, sometimes his hero’s ways sucked me under like a current.

But it weren’t nothing. He were the leader and I were the bandmate, and any words I heard come soft from his mouth were just my mind tricking me. Again.

When we turned the corner to the camp, I felt John’s eyes burning into us from ’cross the camp. I moved away from Rob, going to sit by Much.

“We need to talk about Gisbourne,” Rob said, sitting on the log closest to me and Much. John hopped down from the tree, coming over to the fire.

Much passed me food first, some kind of slop with barley and carrots in it and a hunk of stale bread. I pushed the bread into the bowl while he passed food around to the others.

“Rabbit stew,” Much told me. “It’s good. Mrs. Cooper told me the recipe.”

My fingers curled round the bowl. It were hot, and it smelled fair good, but the thought of Mrs. Cooper and her little ones made my stomach fill with ash ’stead of hunger.

“Scarlet, you’re the only one who’s heard of him. What do you know?” Rob asked.

I shrugged. “He’s ruthless. Cruel.” Rob’s mouth got a little thinner, and for a breath he looked so much older than his twenty-one years. “He’s got a fair sterling name as a thief taker. He’s the oldest son—doesn’t need the money. He does it for sport. Hasn’t got a family. He were set to marry a while ago, but the girl died.”

“Did he have anything to do with it?”

I looked down. “She hanged herself, so I’d reckon so.”

I felt their eyes on me.

“And he never married?”

“No.” ’Course, there were much more to the story than that, but it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to know the rest of it. “Most of the thief takers in London, they get some of the action. They’re crooks themselves, right, and say they’re thieves. Well, they get a crew together, make a few big thefts, and then the thief taker turns one of his own men in to the lords what hired him. Thief taker usually cuts his man free from the hangman’s noose, too, but he ain’t always so lucky and sometimes a thief has to die. Don’t matter none. The takers collect a bounty for the thief and keep collecting from their thefts. Fair heartless work. They still make a big profit, but the law don’t look too hard as long as they keep turning people in.”

“Cunning,” said John.

“Yeah, ’cept Gisbourne never did. He only turned them in when he had to; he prefers to send them for a sleep in the Thames with a grinning throat.”

“What does that mean?” Much asked.

“He’d slice their throat before putting them in the river,” Rob said.

Much shuddered. “I don’t know if we’re lucky or not that there’s no river. The Trent would be a bit of a walk.”

“Not,” the rest of us chorused.

Much looked into his food.

“He’s prideful to a fault. I could listen outside his window and he’d never suspect a thing because the palace is fortified. But we can’t pull the same gag twice—he’ll learn right quick.”

“And for reasons Scarlet won’t let on, I think if Gisbourne finds her, he’ll kill her,” Rob told them.

“He won’t know me,” I promised. ’Cept the eyes.

“Regardless, we all keep him away from Scar, all right?” Rob asked.

Much nodded, and I were surprised that even John nodded without hesitation.

“He won’t know me,” I said again.

“Yeah, but you’re the only one who’s an honest-to-God thief by trade, Scar. Know him or not, I reckon we should keep you away from the thief taker,” Much told me.

“You lot steal just as much as I do.”

Rob smiled. “You taught us how.”

My eyes went to Much’s arm, where it were missing a hand. I didn’t teach Much soon enough, and the sheriff had cut off his hand when he’d tried to steal food for his family. That were before I met him, but it still didn’t sit easy.

“Freddy got to m’dad’s okay, right?” Much asked through a mouthful of food. I looked down at my bowl. I ought to at least eat a bite. I took a piece of the broth-soaked bread.