"Dammit!"

"Congrats, Yer Lordship." Watching Lord Patrick hop past on one foot with a huge smile on her face, Amy gave some light applause. After all, she had to give credit where credit was due. "Excellent progress on da East End expletives."

Glancing up from his attempts to fish a thorn out of his shiny black leather shoes, His Lordship sent her a glare. "You think this is funny?"

"Very much so. Let me guess. Ye've never bin in a forest before, have ye?"

Fishing out the bramble, he hurled it away and straightened, levelling another superior stare at her. "I most certainly have been!"

Amy considered this for a moment—then drew her conclusions, her grin widening. "On the back of a horse? On a fox hunt? With plenty of servants around?"

"Ehem." He very pointedly did not look at her. "This isn't the moment to discuss such things. We should hurry up and continue searching!"

"And not step onto any more thorns?"

But he was already a few steps ahead and apparently didn't hear her. Poor man. Did he have hearing problems? Maybe Amy should take him to the doctor later on—or play doctor with him. A smirk spread across her face. Honourable aristocrat that he was, did he even know the difference between the two?

Hm...the possibilities.

With Patrick in the lead, they continued to march farther into the frosty forest. His Lordship's progress continued to be less than smooth. He stumbled. He bumped into branches. He was entangled in thorns. Yet Amy didn't mention it again. In fact, she had to admit to a small amount of respect for him.

Why?

Because no matter how often he stumbled, how often he cursed or got scratched by brambles, he continued on. Not even once did he consider giving up the search. His blue eyes swept from left to right, ceaselessly searching the shadows beneath the trees.

He was looking for the girl. And he didn't give a crap what happened to himself in the process. Gazing at his back, Amy felt a surge of warmth rising in her heart. It was almost as if he were a truly...a truly decent man?

Amy snorted.

"Oy! Patrick!"

"Yes?"

"What's it called when something is two things at the same time dat shouldn't ever fit together?"

"You mean an oxymoron?"

"Ay! Oxy moron! Dat's it! Thanks."

"Um...you are welcome?"

They continued to delve further into the forest, and he didn't slow down for an instant. No, rather than slowing down, he seemed to speed up over time, his eyes searching the surroundings faster and faster. And she could understand his urgency.

Glancing from left to right, Amy cautiously inspected the ever darkening surroundings. The farther they marched into the forest, the colder it got. At the beginning, the two of them had still been following a clear path, but by now, it was hardly visible between the frost-coated leaves covering the ground. Amy glanced over her shoulder. She didn't know why, exactly, maybe it was the gloomy forest, but she had an ominous feeling. As if someone were...watching them?

"We've gon awfully deep into da forest already," Amy whispered, staring into the shadows. "Don't ye think dat maybe we ought ta slow down a little?"

Frowning, he threw a look back over her shoulder. "Slow down? We're hot on the poor girl's trail! We might find her any minute. We can't slow down now!"

"What about da things we've 'eard about dis place?" Cautiously, Amy glanced from left to right. "Shouldn't we be a bit more careful?"

He snorted. "You mean those baseless rumors about a haunted forest? Don't tell me you believe in ghost stories, Miss Amy. As an adult, you should be above such thing—aaaaaaah!"

A branch whizzed past Amy's face. A moment later, a Patrick also whizzed past her face, arms flailing wildly.

The young woman stopped in her tracks. Slowly she turned around and gazed up at where Lord Patrick Day was now hanging upside down, dangling from the rope tied to a tree branch about twenty feet in the air.

"What were ye sayin' about bein' above such things?"

"Very. Very. Amusing."

"Aye." Smirking, Amy prodded his flank, making him swing from side to side in an entertaining manner. "Very."

"That was supposed to be sarcasm."

"Ye don't say? I hadn't noti—"

It was only years of survival instincts from life in the East End that made Amy move in time. Throwing herself sideways, she felt something cold whizz past her face.

Thud!

Rolling to soften her fall, Amy came back up to her feet and immediately flicked her gaze from left to right, on the lookout for whatever had just nearly hit her, only to see an arrow quivering in a nearby tree.

"So...maybe it's just me," she stated, "but I think we ain't alone."

"You don't say. Thank you so much for sharing your opinion. Now get me the hell down from here!"

Amy's eyes flicked from left to right, searching the shadows intently. "I'd love to, but—"

Shhnk!

There was barely any warning before the second arrow buried itself in a tree stump roughly three inches from her ear. With a curse, she hurled herself to the side and rolled behind the stump, out of the line of fire. A second later, she had her revolver in her hand.

"Ye know," she hissed, "I suddenly get da feeling dat dere's a little more ta dose 'baseless rumors' dan we thought."

"Oh really?" a growl came from above. "I didn't notice!"

"Tut-tut." Eyes narrowed, Amy kept scanning the surroundings. "'ow unobservant."

"You...!" Lord Patrick sent her a deadly glare that probably would have been a lot more intimidating if he weren't still hanging upside down.

"Shh!"

Amy silenced him with a gesture, her eyes flicking to where, just a moment ago, she had heard a branch break.

"Who's there?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

No response. Not that she really expected one. But there was an ever-so-faint rustling of leaves.

Bam!

Amy didn't hesitate a second. The bullet from her revolver slammed into the underbrush, sending up a whirlwind of frost and dirt. Just a warning shot, but it was enough to achieve the intended result: the shadowy figure that had been hiding between the trees jerked back and dashed off deeper into the forest.

Good riddance,

"Do you think they're gone?" Amy asked, not taking her eyes off the trees for a moment.

"I am not quite certain," His Lordship informed her from above, lightly swaying back and forth as he dangled from his rope. "I currently do not have the best vantage point."

"Hm, well..." Pulling a knife from her boot, Amy turned towards him with an innocent smile on her face. "We'll just 'ave ta change it den, won't we?"

"Wait, what? What are you doing with that kni—aaaaah!"

Thump!

"Hello dere." Cheerfully, Amy waved at the sprawled figure of His Lordship on the ground and held out a hand to him. "Would ye like a hand? Ye can't keep it, though. I ain't as generous as yer doctor friend."

"That won't be necessary, thank you." His Lordship sent a censorious gaze at her. Then, pushing himself up, he pulled off the rope that had been wrapped around his ankle, then let his gaze sweep searchingly across the trees.

"Are they gone?"

From one second to another, any hint of hilarity vanished from Amy's face. She scanned the underbush, while her hands checked her gun for remaining bullets, "Seems like it, for now."

"Hm. Apparently, we aren't the only ones in this forest."

Amy glanced over at the arrows still embedded in two different trees. "Aye, but...who could it be? Who would be crazy enough ta be out in da forest at dis time of year?" Then, Amy, the city girl, reconsidered her words. "Forget dat, who would willingly be out in da forest, period?"

"Poachers, highwaymen, take your pick." Pulling a grim face, Lord Patrick reached under his tailcoat for his pistol. "Or worse."

"Worse?" Amy felt something cold clutch at her heart. And it wasn't a half-frozen hedgehog looking for a comfy place to hibernate. "Ye mean..."

"Yes." He nodded grimly. "We aren't the only ones here looking for the girl. There is someone else out hunting today." Cocking his gun, he ran off into the forest. "Come on! That poor girl must be terrified! We have to take down whoever is after her, before those blackguards catch up to that poor, innocent girl!"

***

Shit, shit, shit! Only a few inches more to da left, and I would 'ave skewered dose arseholes!

Issy raced through the forest, cursing her aim six ways to Sunday. Just a few inches! Just a few inches more and she would have taken care of her latest batch of pursuers. Although...

She frowned.

This batch of pursuers was a little...strange, to say the least. So far, those bloody gangsters had sent all kinds of thugs after her. Big, small, scarred, one-eyed, homicidal...but a young woman in a skimpy dress and a man who looked as if he'd been plucked straight from the top ten list of Britain's most eligible bachelors, nobleman edition?

Ha! What a ridiculous disguise! Did they honestly think she would fall for it?

If there had ever been any chance of that, it had evaporated the moment that woman had pulled that gun of hers and started shooting without a second's hesitation.

I'll get ye back for dat, ye witch! Just wait, I'll get ye back for dat!

Now she only had to decide how to do it. Hm...choices, choices...

Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind.

Oh aye, that'll work.

Smirking, Issy gave a low chuckle. Darting off into the trees, she reached into the depths of her knapsack, searching for a certain something.

***

"There!" Pointing excitedly at the ground, Patrick dashed forward. "A trail! We've found a trail!"

"Aye." Suspiciously, Amy stared at the marks on the frosty forest floor. "A trail we've bin lookin' for durin' da last three hous, and dat we've now suddenly found."

"Yes!" Nodding firmly, Patrick strode forward with fresh confidence. "My hunting experience is finally paying off!"

Amy would freely admit she did not have any hunting experience whatsoever. She did, however, have plenty of experience with people trying to get one over on her. And right now, her anti-bamboozle instincts were screaming at her. Especially since, some way up the trail, she noticed a spot where the forest floor looked a little...odd.

"Um...Patrick?" she started. "Maybe ye shouldn't—"

"Come on, what are you waiting for? With any luck, we'll soon findaaaaaaaagh!"

Wham!

"Aye." Thoughtfully, Amy nodded to herself. "Seems like ye've found somethin' all right."

"Aaah! Argh! Ow! Get away from me, you little beasts!"

Cautiously, Amy approached the pit His Lordship had apparently fallen into. Taking into account the sounds coming from down below, she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to know what was inside. On the other hand...

"Aaagh! No! Get away, you spiky pest!"

...she really, really, really wanted to know what was inside!

"Nng! Gaagh!"

Edging up to the pit, she peeked inside, and—

—leapt out of the way just in time to avoid the small creature sailing out of it. It hit the ground with a thump. The beasty gave an indignant squeak and waddled off into the forest.

A...hedgehog?

Oh my.

It couldn't be that, inside that pit, there were...could it?

"Yaaaagh! Argh! Get away from my posterior, you pest!"

It could. It most definitely could.

Leaning over the edge of the pit, Amy smiled down at her favorite aristocrat. "'ow's da 'unting going?"

"Splendid, Miss Amy. Simply splendid. As you see, I have already found—" Reaching out, he yanked a hedgehog from his bottom with a yelp. "—oow! F-found plentiful prey."

"Aye, so I see."

"Wipe that smirk off your face this instant!"

"And why should I do dat?"

His Lordship levelled a stare at her. "I have half a dozen hedgehogs to throw at you."

Amy had to admit, he was a good negotiator. "Smirk wiped. What next?"

"We brought that rope from earlier with us, didn't we?"

"Ah, right! Wait a moment, I'll—"

Suddenly, her danger instincts flared. Flinging herself to the ground, she felt something pass over her head, something a hell of a lot bigger than an arrow! She rolled around and stared up at the log swinging from a tree branch high above, the log that had just nearly sent her flying head-first into the hedgehog pit. Whirling around, revolver raised, she searched the trees with narrowed eyes—but the footsteps of whoever was behind this were already receding into the distance.

"What's happening?" came a voice from the pit. And not the kind with a pitchfork and horns attached. "What's going on up there?"

"A little busy 'ere!" Amy hissed, trying to find some place to take cover, or any sign that their attacker was returning. "Why don't ye spend some time patting yer new pets?"

"Because they have spikes?"

She had to admit, that was a rather good reason. After some more scanning of the surroundings, just to make one hundred percent sure they were once more alone, Amy finally pulled the rope from her knapsack and, tying one end to a nearby stump, threw the other one down into the pit.

"'ere ye go!"

From down below, there was some muttering and cursing—My my, 'is vocab is really coming along well, ain't it?—before a scruffy and slightly perforated Lord Patrick emerged from the pit, climbing up the rope with surprising alacrity. The moment he spotted the still swaying log that had nearly hit her, though, all his tiredness evaporated. In a blink, he had his pistol out and was scanning the surrounding forest.

"No need," she informed him. "Dey're long gone already."

"Hm." His eyes narrowed. "This is getting concerning. Whoever is behind this, even though they were sent by a city gang, is clearly experienced in any kind of surroundings. We have to be careful. Most likely, we're dealing with an exceedingly skilled hunter and assassin."

***

Shit, shit, shit and triple shit! Failed again!

Well, not entirely failed. Issy smirked as she remembered that posh fellow's squeak as he got up close and personal with the hedgehogs she had so carefully collected. That had been quite entertaining.

Unfortunately, the distant footsteps catching up from behind her were considerably less entertaining, in her humble opinion.

Damn tenacious bastards! Why were they so persistent? The ones who had been sent after her before would have been running back to London after a stunt like that!

Well...

If these two were more persistent, that only really left her with one option, didn't it?

Up her game!

Smiling, she flexed her fingers and changed directions. She had meant to keep this ace up her sleeve in case the bastard who had "bought" her decided to send his own men after her. But now, these two new visitors were going to be on the receiving end of her special surprise.

------------------------------------------------

My dear Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,

Sorry for the slight delay today. I overslept ;)

Yours Truly

Sir Rob