"That makes no sense at all," I said, truly standing behind my argument. "How can someone be a thief and innocent at the same time? Your name is stupid."
The boys sitting with me at the back of the wagon all crossed their arms simultaneously. After we'd slept through the night on the road and rode for another entire day without even stopping once, we were at least a fifty or more miles away from my hometown. I also didn't even question how the horses never seemed to get tired, everything was just… magical, I guess.
But now, new challenges awaited me, and one of them was the name they were trying to make me accept.
"Take that back!" Ninefingers snapped.
"Mm!" Quiet agreed.
But I didn't want to back down. They had offered to take me in – well, now that I'd run off with them, I didn't really have a choice if I didn't want to starve on the streets – but something inside me resisted calling myself an Innocent Thief.
Just saying this wasn't enough. So I tried to make irrefutable arguments. I held up my father's coin pouch. "I stole this."
"Mm-hmm."
Then I tossed it onto the pile of coin pouches they had stolen from other people and other villages. It seemed the old man was used to confrontation wherever he went and the boys had learnt to take advantage. There were at least twenty pouches, most holding no more than five copper coins. But for us kids, it was a considerable fortune.
"You stole those."
My argument was rock solid.
"Mm-hmm."
"So... we're thieves."
"Yes, that's in the name."
"But thieves aren't innocent."
"Yes, but we are!"
"But–"
I was cut off by Sebastian's laughter. He clapped me lightly on the back and said, "Alright, alright. You can be the guilty thief if that suits you better."
Now that he put it like that, I wasn't so sure anymore. "No," I replied after a moment of thought. "I don't like that either. Think I'll just stick with thief."
"I wouldn't tell others you're a thief. Kinda beats the point."
"Yeah… I guess."
Ninefingers rolled his eyes. "Then go back where you came from."
I shot him a glare, but Sebastian was quicker. "Ninefingers," he said calmly, "Corin is one of us now. He's your brother. And mine."
There must've been a lot of surprise on my face, because Sebastian looked quite satisfied. He always liked to impress others, especially his friends. He extended his hand toward me. I looked at it, then smiled.
Brother. I liked that. I took his hand and shook it firmly. Quiet and Crosseyes also offered their hands, and I shook them too. Ninefingers stared at me for a long moment. Then he gave a curt nod. I returned it just as curtly.
"You probably have questions," Sebastian said with a smirk, leaning back. "This must feel like the greatest adventure of your life."
"Not really..."
"Well, don't worry, we'll make sure it's– wait, what?" He looked at me, surprised.
I smirked back. "It's definitely an adventure. But when you grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the tavern, I realized a lot of things."
The others looked at me curiously. I smiled at them. "You said I was like you. I think you all had a reason to run away from home too, didn't you?"
Sebastian's expression shifted from surprise to a proud grin. "Smart, too!"
But then his grin faded into something more serious.
He was the leader of our group. We owed him a lot. He knew our stories as well as he knew his own. He nodded toward Crosseyes. "You ran away because of your father, Corin. Same goes for Crosseyes over here."
I looked at Crosseyes. "Was he brutal too?"
Crosseyes stared at the ground. "Just a bit…" he murmured.
"He doesn't like to talk about it," Sebastian explained, when Crosseyes didn't elaborate further, "but his father used to lock him in a cupboard at night. Sometimes he'd forget to let him out during the day. Only a sliver of light through the cupboard doors kept him company in that darkness."
Sebastian leaned closer to me and whispered, "We think that's why his eyes are crossed all the time..."
That sounded horrible. But I didn't really feel pity for him – more like camaraderie.
"I'm sorry," I still said to Crosseyes. He gave me a brief nod.
Sebastian turned to Quiet next. "Quiet's story is... harder." He paused, glancing at the boy who sat silently, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "When he was very young, his stepmother cut out his tongue because she hated how much he cried. After that, he never cried again."
The weight of the words hung heavy in the air. Quiet's calm demeanor made it all the more haunting.
"That's awful," I whispered, unsure what else to say.
Quiet nodded slowly, acknowledging my sympathy without meeting my gaze.
Then I gestured to Ninefingers. "And him?" I asked.
Ninefingers crossed his arms, his face hardening. "I ran away," he said gruffly. "Didn't get far. My father sent the dogs after me."
He paused, flexing the hand missing a finger. "When they dragged me back, this," he held up his hand, "was gone."
Sebastian added quietly, "He's the only one that's open about it. Probably because he's the only one who had the strength to try something on his own, even before we found him."
Somehow, I found new respect for the little boy. I didn't tell him I was sorry. But I felt it, and I knew he felt it too. The fact that we both had something taken from us seemed to form an unspoken connection.
"And you?" I asked Sebastian. "Why did you run away?"
"He won't tell you," Ninefingers interjected suddenly. "Hasn't told anyone."
"We've been betting on the reason," Crosseyes added. "I say it was his father. Ninefingers thinks it was his mother. Quiet says both."
Sebastian laughed and shook his head. "Who knows? But one thing I do know: my new family is right here, on this wagon. Isn't that right, old man?"
He called toward the front of the wagon, where the old man held the reins, whistling a cheerful melody to himself. When Sebastian called to him, he turned briefly to glance back at us, then fixating me.
"Sorry we kidnapped you just like that, little Corin... but I think you'll enjoy your time with them more than you would back home," the old man said with a wink.
I nodded eagerly. "I think so too..." Then I tilted my head. "Did you run away from home too?"
"Me? Run away?" The old man laughed heartily. "I'm actually filthy rich and very, very important. Even the king begs me to return to the capital all the time! I said he'd have to offer me his daughter to go back to that hell!"
I tilted my head. That sounded unbelievable for the young me.
"You'll have to get used to this," Sebastian said to me, grinning. "He always talks nonsense like that."
The old man chuckled but didn't deny it. Instead, he turned his attention back to the road ahead, humming as the wagon bumped along.
For a while, we sat in comfortable silence, the rhythmic creaking of the wagon and the old man's humming filling the cool evening air. I leaned back, gazing up at the stars. I saw the ones I'd forgotten for a long time and remembered the feeling of laying on that grassy hill again, counting and drawing constellations in the night sky.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't feel alone.
This wasn't the life I expected. It wasn't even the life I wanted or even wished for. But as I sat there, surrounded by my new family of thieves, I couldn't help but feel... free. Maybe, even happy.
And that was enough for now.