“Take my hand!” I shouted over the business of the moment.

“No way!” He screamed.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m trying to save your life!” I yelled. He reluctantly plassed his hand in mine. I squeezed it and jumped.

Leaping over a log is easy. Leaping over a river is not. We had taken air for less then a second before plummeting down into the edgo of the water.

“I thought you said I wouldn’t get wet,” he scratched. Wiping the dirt and mud from his trousers.

“No, the deal was I get you out alive and you pay me in gold,” I yelled.

“Whatever you say Thief,” my title rolled of his tongue in a disgusted manner. I took that and yanked his arm violently to the side instead of telling him what I would do.

“I don’t take sass from strangers,” I answered.

“Noted,” he moaned,

“Enough sweet talk, my ears are bleeding. Hand him over Cleo,” Andrew stood up in the trees, a bow and arrow pointing to my skull. I stomped my foot and nudged Jake’s shoulder.

“You see, Andrew. That won’t be necessary when your dead,” I shrieked as an arrow pierced my shoulder, several inches from the prince.

“Cleo,” Jake wispered under his breath. Only a thief could hear that sound. Good thing I was a thief. Good thing I played dirty. Good thing this wasn’t over.