Prince of Thieves (On temporary hold for major editing)

Chapter One

"'It'll be easy,' he said." My world tilts to the left...I never knew how truly tall these silver mud-berry trees were until now.

"'An in and out job,' he said." My world tilts to the right...The leaves are so big that they actually create a canopy.

"'Just take the route through Meloda forest. It's deserted at this hour, and it's a short cut,' he said." The forest continues to sway back and forth in front of me in this rhythmic pattern...I'm starting to feel like a bloody pendulum right now.

I let out a snort. Piercing a nearby gremlin with a rather nasty glare, an irritated growl vibrates through me. "What are you looking at, you vile bubble-headed gloma?"

His tiny mouth curls up into a leer as he places his hands behind his head. "Nuthin' much. Yer much more confident than what we usually trap, is all. By this time, we 'ave 'em beggin' for their life or somethin'," he squeaks out.

I contain an eye roll by just barely. "Me? Beg for my life?" I scoff. "That's going to happen when you guys sprout wings and fly."

A confused look crosses those white irises of his. "Why would Grumen wanna fly? Grumen likes it 'ere on the ground."

Fighting back another growl, I regard the gremlin—or Grumen as he calls himself, with disdain. Glomas, all of them. What? Does that space inside their skulls just contain air? Gritting my teeth, a few slow breaths pass my lips.

"It was merely a statement. Nothing more," I mutter.

Grumen nods, but the confused look remains on his face. "Grumen still doesn't know why 'e would fly, though," he says after a moment.

Oh for the love of the Fae. "Look—"

"Grumen likes you though, much more entertainin' than the usual 'uman, Although, Grumen doesn't get why a smart lookin' 'uman like you, fell for brother's simple trap. Grumen didn't even think it would work." Grumen says, cutting me off.

A rather cynical chuckle passes my lips and the corners of my mouth pull up into a smirk. "Why thank you, I'm so flattered. And to answer your question, my squeaky little friend, I had the misfortune to be assigned, well more like forced, to go and retrieve a certain object. Why? You may ask? Because a certain yatcha di piptana Prince of Thieves is too much of retchandosoa to do it himself," I say with a huff.

"Oi, can it girlie," another one of the gremlins grumbles as he threatens to poke me with his gnarled wooden club.

Then turning to Grumen, he hits him on the head with his club. "Grumen, ye know better than ta talk to the 'umans we capture. Especially ones with such strange ways of speakin'," he says, eyeing me warily.

I stick my tongue out at him in response. "You're one to talk," I mutter.

An irritated sigh leaves me. Of all the things I had to get caught by, in this godforsaken forest, it just had to be the nasty little gremlins. I shudder slightly. I can't stand them. I hate their scaly blue skin, I hate how their eyelids are practically non-existent, I hate their yellow fangs that protruded from their mouth, not to mention they didn't have a polite bone in their body. Ever since I was little, I had hated everything about them.

Usually, they're a race that keeps to themselves, only stealing from those who are stupid enough to wander into their territory—which is usually the mountainside. But with the upcoming coronation, they've gotten bolder, making traps along the forest road, and taking from any poor sap who stumbles into one. Hence, my current predicament. I hear a faint buzzing a few trees down and I turn my gaze towards it. Mud-berry wasps. Good thing I'm in this tree and not that one. I swear when I get my hands on that boy I'll...