The Luck Uglies by Paul Durham

“We’ll protect you—not that you much deserve it.”
    â€œThe Earl’s soldiers couldn’t protect this village from a house mouse with bad intentions,” Old Lady Crabtree said.
    â€œMind your business, crone,” the soldier said, and threw the sour apple at her. “Tend to your skunk apples and be thankful we’re even on this wretched street.”
    â€œWe’re doomed, you stubborn louts,” Old Lady Crabtree said, pointing a crooked finger at them. “You’ll see.”
    Rye, Folly, and Quinn kept quiet until the soldiers had stalked past them.
    â€œFolks in the Shambles are buzzing about Luck Uglies,” Folly whispered as soon as they were out of earshot, but Rye interrupted with an emphatic shake of her head.
    â€œNot here,” Rye said, and nodded toward her house instead.
    The three friends slipped inside the O’Chanters’ cottage and reconvened by lantern light around the table in the secret workshop. Rye brought Shady with them. Rye knew his keen ears would let them know as soon as Abby and Lottie, or anyone else, came within ten yards of the front door. For the moment, he busied himself by swatting at a pheasant feather he’d pilfered from Abby’s supplies.
    â€œI heard,” Folly resumed, “that the village sent a runner to Longchance Keep. They’re going to ask the Earl to invoke the Treaty of Stormwell—and call for the Luck Uglies.”
    â€œThe Luck Uglies don’t exist anymore,” Quinn said under his breath.
    â€œDo you know that for sure?” Folly said, pursing her lips.
    â€œNo, not for sure,” Quinn said. “But my father says we don’t need that kind of trouble. The village is arming itself. He can’t keep up with the demand at the shop. He actually let me use the forge.”
    Quinn displayed his blackened hands proudly.
    â€œWhat’s the Treaty of Stormwell?” Rye asked, pulling a spool of red ribbon from Shady’s teeth before he could devour it.
    â€œIt was an agreement between the House of Longchance and the Luck Uglies,” Quinn said. “A deal to save Drowning from the Bog Noblins.”
    Tam’s Tome lay open in front of them. Quinn flipped through its pages.
    â€œLook,” Quinn said, “it’s all in here.” He began to read.
    â€œTwenty years ago, the Luck Uglies struck up a loose alliance with the House of Longchance. They signed the Treaty of Stormwell and agreed to rid the Shale of the Bog Noblins, who were terrorizing the countryside and threatening to destroy merchant society. It took nearly ten years, but the Luck Uglies fulfilled their end of the agreement. Shortly thereafter, the newest heir to the Longchance line, Earl Morningwig Longchance, branded the Luck Uglies outlaws, and they were forced to disband and scatter throughout the Shale and beyond.”
    â€œWhat good’s a treaty with Longchance?” Rye said. “He makes his own laws anyway.”
    â€œI heard,” Folly began, and Rye and Quinn exchanged skeptical looks, “that the Treaty of Stormwell was signed in blood under a Black Moon.”
    â€œIt would be pretty hard to read something signed in blood,” Quinn said.
    â€œAnd,” Folly continued, ignoring the interruption, “there were only two copies. One’s supposed to be in possession of the last High Chieftain of the Luck Uglies. The other is locked away in the treasure hole of Longchance Keep.”
    â€œMy father says that’s where our things go when I lose them,” Quinn noted, then dropped into a perfect imitation of his father’s booming voice. “Where’s the wheelbarrow, Quinn? Let me guess—the Earl took it for his treasure hole?”
    â€œBut why did the Earl declare them outlaws?” Rye asked, impatiently.
    Quinn looked up from the pages grimly. “It says in here they kidnapped Longchance’s bride.”
    â€œWhich