“Lollie, is this one of yours?” She craned her head around, squinting up into the nearby branches. “She’s cute, I’ll give you that.”

“Shit.” Another bandit, this one larger than the first, fell from above, landing deftly on the forest floor. “Call it off, gang. These folks don’t have two coppers to rub together.”

“Lovely to see you too, Lollessandra,” Brella said in dry greeting.

The cute bandit let out a sharp, bright pulse of laughter. “Is your name really Lollessandra?”

“Shove off,” mumbled the larger one. “This one’s called Umbrella.”

“Naw, really, Lollie? That ain’t a name. That’s a household item.”

“Excuse me.” James raised a hand. “Can someone please clue me in on what’s causing this little diversion?”

The larger bandit—Lollie, the little one had called her—strolled around, planting herself in front of James. She was tall and slender, fair skinned with dark hair cropped to her chin and a small, peaked hat perched jauntily on her head. Someone had patched the elbows of her hide jacket with a green checked fabric that matched the pale hue of her canny eyes. Scratch felt those eyes take her in, sly and assessing, as the woman ran her tongue over her teeth and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her trousers.

“This your new one, Brella?”

Brella scowled. “None of your business, Lollie.”

Lollie opened her eyes wide and took a step back. “I know who she is. There’s a bounty on her head.”

Scratch’s stomach sank. She knew that there would be some commotion back in the Royal City over her and James’s disappearance. She had hoped—foolish, foolish—that it might not find her out here.

Her hand hovered over her knife. She could take Lollie easily (she didn’t even want to think about fighting the adorable baby bandit), but there had to be more adversaries around. She could sense eyes on her, burning hot on the top of her pale head. What if they were kids, too? Yes, soldiers weren’t poets, but they weren’t child killers, either.

Brella’s gaze flicked between Scratch and Lollie, then up into the surrounding trees.

“She’s with us, Lollie,” she said eventually, voice tight. “They both are. Go against them and you go against us.”

Scratch didn’t have time to think about what Brella’s steadfast allegiance meant. She was too busy glaring at the bandit, waiting for an attack. It could have been her imagination, but for a moment it seemed that genuine pain flickered over Lollie’s slight features. In an instant, the pain was gone, replaced by narrowed eyes and a sly little grin. It all happened so quickly, she could almost believe she hadn’t seen anything at all.

“If she’s with you, Brella, she’s safe with us.” Lollie bowed her head. “And, of course, it would be rude to ask why you and Vel—”