Zia woke the next morning with no headache, and her cuts had healed into new rosy skin, much like a baby's. Her bruises were fading slowly but surely, and she felt stronger and more rested than she could ever remember feeling.

The sun streamed in from the open window above her and a cold breeze came in. She shivered as she thought of the on-coming winter.

Link was sitting at his desk, writing something on a piece of parchment. His shiny bald head leaned in close to the desk, and his short legs dangled in the air when he sat in the chair.

"Good morning, Link," Zia said. Her throat felt better, too. It no longer hurt to speak, and her voice didn't sound so ragged.

Link turned in his chair, but she wasn't greeted with his friendly smile. "Oh, hello, miss. Breakfast will be ready shortly."

Zia threw the covers off her body and walked over to Link, surprised at how well her legs held her weight. "What are you writing?" she asked when she got to the wooden desk.

"Just a little patient analysis," he said dismissively.

"A patient what?" she asked.

"Just a report to the King and Queen on what injuries you had, how you're healing, and things like that. It will be evidence in your father's trial," he added. "Speaking of your father's trial, it will be taking place this afternoon."

"He's not my father," Zia said.

"Of course not," Link said. "Pardon me. Why don't you go get yourself some breakfast. It should be ready outside over the fire."

Zia wanted to ask more about his analysis, but she did as she was told and stepped out into the cool autumn air.

Hanging over a fire between two large metal poles was a small pot filled with porridge. There was a stack of clean wooden bowls and spoons by the fire, and Zia picked up one of each and filled up her bowl with the warm, gooey food.

As she ate, she thought about what she had said the night before. When Link had told her that Daxtor would most likely be hanged, she had replied, "Good." Did it make her a monster to find pleasure in the fact that the foul man would be getting what he deserved? Was it wrong of her to be happy that she would no longer have to see or hear him again?

"What does it matter?" Zia said aloud. "The fact is I'm free of him, and that's all the matters."

Then a thought hit her. Where would she live now that he would be gone? She could still go to castle an petition for a job there as a serving girl, but Daxtor, like all the other prisoners awaiting trial, would be kept there, and she didn't like the thought of being under the same roof as him again, even if that roof was hundreds of feet off the ground.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of leather boots on dead leaves, and Zia looked up to see Arch standing there. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

She shrugged and he joined her around the blazing fire. He sighed and said, "I've been thinking..." He lost trail of his words, as if he were thinking so hard he forgot where he was.

"Well, that's dangerous," Zia said, reminding him of where he was and what he was doing.

The lost look in his eyes cleared and the air was pierced with his loud laugh. "Indeed it is," he agreed. Then his tone turned somber and he asked, "Zia, what would you think about living with me?"

"What?" she asked, flabbergasted. "Live with you and your son?"

Arch nodded.

Zia looked into the fire. Arch and his son were the only people that she had ever become close to being friends with. They were both loving and kind, nothing like Daxtor. She wanted with all her heart to say yes, that she would love to live with them, but something held her back

"I doubt you need another mouth to feed," she said.

"That won't be a problem," Arch promise her. "I have a plan for that." Whatever that plan was, Arch didn't seem very happy about it. A dark look settled over his features, like he had just said he had murdered the Queen.

Zia wasn't sure. She did like Arch, and Ike was very friendly, but after so long living under Daxtor's thumb, she wasn't sure if she could lead a normal life. But, she thought, it would be better to live among friends than the strangers that would be my only company at the castle. "If you'll have me, Arch, I'd love to."

A grin split Arch's face. "I'm glad you agreed, Zia. Ike will be very excited to have another friend. It would be an honor..." his voice trailed off again, but this time Zia let him be lost in his thoughts. The kind man had been through much, that much she could tell.

"Zia," he said, finally coming back to earth. "If you're to live with me, your life will be... different. You'll have to learn to fight; fend for yourself. I will be taking up a new job soon, and it would require you to learn things that most girls don't know how to do. Would you be okay with that?"

After so many years of being helpless as Daxtor beat her, that was music to her ears. And she really couldn't care less about what other girls did. She had never been a regular girl, and she never would be. "That sounds much better than living with a drunk," she said.

Arch smiled. "I agree."

Arch knocked on the hard wooden door of Godwin Barns. The door swung open and a tall man with broad shoulders stood in the doorway. When he saw Arch, a smile came to his lips. "Arch," he said. "What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in. Cold morning, isn't it?"

He stood aside and Arch walked into the small house. It was clean and tidy, and there didn't seem to be a speck of dust on anything. The floor was swept, and the mantel and shelves were polished. There were two comfortable armchairs in the living room, and the table was neat and scrubbed clean to a shine.

"Won't you sit down?" Godwin offered him one of the armchairs and Arch gladly accepted. "Darla!" Godwin called.

A short, plump woman appeared, flour coated her hands, and her brown hair fell into her green eyes. When she spotted Arch she smiled. "Oh, Reems! You should have told us you were coming! I would have had some hot tea waiting."

"Oh, it's fine, Darla," Arch said good-naturally. "I didn't mean to come unannounced, but I needed to speak with your husband right away." All this was true, but Arch would also do just about anything to not drink Mrs. Barns's tea; Darla Barns could make tea taste like charcoal and boiled cabbage.

"Darla," her husband said. "Will you be as kind as to bring a few slices of bread and some water?"

"Of course!" she cried, and she disappeared into the kitchen again.

Godwin turned to Arch. "So, right to business, then. What brings you here, Reems?"

Arch took a deep breath. Godwin knew why he was here, he just wanted Arch to say it. "I accept the job," Arch said quietly.

Godwin was silent. He looked at his old friend and nodded. He had expected him to come around. "Why the change of mind?" he asked.

Arch sighed. "You heard the screaming a few nights ago?"

Godwin nodded. He had just been walking home from Arch's house when it started.

"Well, it was from a little girl, Zia. I met her earlier that day in the market, and learned that she was Daxtor Myrna's daughter."

This was news to Godwin. He didn't know Myrna had a daughter. "Well, he said. "He was beating her, I reckon?"

Arch nodded gravely. "Anyway, when it started, I ran to the old house and caught the filthy man kicking and hitting her. I was able to stop him, and that's when the Royal Guard came. They arrested him and sent for the healer. She's been at the town infirmary for days now. She's awake and well, but she has no place to stay."

"So you're going to give her a home," Godwin guessed.

Arch nodded. "I know I don't have enough money to support both her and Ike, so I have to do something."

Godwin was silent for a long time before he stood and put his hand out to Arch. "Well, old friend, congratulations. I meant what I said about you being the best candidate. The other just didn't have the same training as you do."

Arch stood as well and put his hand in Godwin's. And with that handshake, Arch Reems became the new leader of the Thieves of Otar.