“Let him go,” a tall blond man added. “The prince, the sheriff, the king, they were all friends of Robin of Locksley. Let him go, too. Like it or not, you’re Robin Hood now.”

Robin nodded, long and hard, and locked eyes with Little. Not in sympathy this time, but with certainty.

“Besides, we don’t need him to get into the castle.” There was a clarity to Will Scarlet’s words that made Arable instantly aware they were directed toward her. He walked up, he reached gently for her hands. “Is there any way you can get us back inside?”

“That depends,” she said coldly, not looking up. “Are we still thinking of killing me?”

How quickly they had forgotten their rotten treatment of her. She had risked everything by breaking Will and Elena out of the prisons. She had freed Roger de Lacy’s murderers, all for a lie. Gisbourne had manipulated her into abandoning the last of her life that still existed, and they had nearly killed her for it.

Will Scarlet didn’t contest that. “Please.”

In his poor, haunted face, was her own.

Pushed to the edge, having lost everything, he now needed the help of someone who had no reason to do so. He needed the trust of someone who shouldn’t even be capable of trusting, not ever again. He was a reflection not only of her desperation, but of her hope that there was still a path up. The hope to climb.

She would always hate Will Scarlet for the role he played in de Lacy’s death. But there was more to a person, and to life, than hate. Will had apologized, during their travel from Nottingham, admitting Roger’s death solved nothing. These people knew about mistakes, as did Arable. And they’d asked about her scars. Robin, when she met him in the woods, and both Will and Elena despite their furious escape from the city. They did not ignore her face as the people in the city did. These people were familiar with pain, and chose not to shy away from it, but to grow from it.

These people were the people she needed.

“Yes, I can get you inside,” she answered. “But only tonight. After tonight, word will return to the castle of what happened here, and I would be killed on the spot. But at the moment, nobody knows I’m missing.” Her eyes found Gisbourne’s face again, his dry eyes staring upward. “At least, nobody still alive.”

The crowd murmured. They seemed inspired by the possibility. Will Scarlet knelt beside her, crouching on the balls of his feet, and waited for her to look at him. His features were soft, there were streaks through the dirt on his bruised face where his tears had run rampant.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked gently. “Simply running away is one thing, but getting revenge is another.”