CHAPTER TWO:

DEN OF THIEVES

Far off in the Agrestian Desert, another escape was taking place that night.

A rattlesnake poked its head out of the sand and let out a frustrated hiss, having found no prey to sink its teeth into.

Suddenly, the snake turned its head. It couldn't see anything, but something was definitely coming this way.

Sure enough, a cloud of dust appeared over the sandy hill.

The snake slithered back to cover just as a squad of men on horses came charging down the dune.

Cloaked, armed to the teeth, and carrying heavy bags on their backs, the strangers rode hard through the desert. They slowed while scaling a rather large dune, the horses' hooves trudging deeply through the soft sand. But they persevered and rode on.

It wasn't long before a wall of mountains came into view – the border of the kingdom of Agreste. With their objective in sight, the men urged their horses harder.

Even under the cover of night, you never knew what could be watching you in the desert... especially when you didn't want to be found.

The mountain wall grew bigger and bigger, until the riders reached the open mass in the rock and rode straight inside.

A small chasm lay ahead of them – too big for a human to jump over, but not for horses. They leapt over with ease and continued on their way, swerving through the narrow cavern. They had no fear of being lost in the dark, for the crevices in the ceiling allowed moonlight to seep through.

Onward the strangers rode. Then, the path opened up into a broader cave, where the ruins of an old temple greeted them.

The head of a great, stone minotaur glared down at the strangers. It was guarded on each side by a leering jaguar. Only the wicked of heart would dare set foot in a place such as this... which was why it served as the perfect hideout for a band of wicked thieves.

The old, oaken doors were pulled open, and the riders came trampling into the temple before coming to a halt in the courtyard.

Several faces looked up from their cozy fire pits to gaze upon their arrivals.

The riders dismounted and heaved their sacks onto the ground. Several of them burst open, and the onlookers' excitement reached the roof as treasure spilled out onto the floor:

Coins of silver and gold, hordes of jewels that ranged from the size of an acorn to a human fist, long strings of pearls, plates and goblets adorned with sparkling gems, golden sceptres and candelabras, and cutlery so shiny you could see your reflection in them.

The thieves laughed as they gathered the spilled treasure back into the bags.

"This night has been quite rewarding," one of them said with a dark grin.

"We have never stolen so much!" another chuckled in a squeaky voice.

Sadly, the two bearded scoundrels were so preoccupied with their reward, they failed to notice a pair of small hands reaching out behind them. They snatched up the golden artefacts from the crooks' bulging satchels one by one.

"We have gathered much loot tonight," the squeaky thief added as he turned around.

The strange hands vanished back into the shadows before the thief could see them.

Meanwhile, a gruff brigand huffed and glanced over his shoulder. "No, thanks to our leader," he growled sarcastically.

All eyes now turned to the tall, thin man wrestling with an enormous, painted urn. He had a narrow face with a pointed nose that made him look like a vulture. His dark blue eyes were focused, but his thin, brown mustache was curling up with frustration as he struggled to pull his arm out of the urn.

Finally, with a great heave, the man's arm came out with a loud POP!

The man himself fell backward with a hard THUMP!

And the urn, unfortunately, fell to pieces with a shrill CRASH!

The man rubbed his dark-brown scalp and blinked when he saw the beading eyes of the other thieves glaring at him.

Armand D'Argencourt, the self-proclaimed Master of Thievery, let out a posh harrumph. "It only looked expensive," he argued gently with a thick accent. Then he rose and dusted himself off. "Besides, I do have very little taste in Greek art."

Once he was fine and dandy, D'Argencourt placed his hands on his hips and stared down his crooked nose at his cohorts. "Well?" he enquired coldly. "Where is the rest of it?"

Some of the men grumbled as they presented him with their bags of loot.

D'Argencourt grinned as he examined each and every one. "A fine haul indeed, my surly band of desert skunks," he announced with a satisfied hum.

His eyes brightened when they spotted a bedazzling sight: a pink crystal flower bordered by emerald leaves and strung together by a golden stem.

"Ooohh..." D'Argencourt plucked the flower from the bag, held it up to the firelight, and then clipped it onto his vest.

The other thieves exchanged disapproving glances before one of them whined, "How is it you get the jeweled flower, D'Argencourt?"

The Master of Thievery snorted at him haughtily. "I'm terribly sorry. What was that you said?"

The man who spoke steamed and then sighed. "I mean... Darkblade," he grumbled.

"That's better," D'Argencourt said, "and don't you forget that the next time you address your noble leader." He turned his back to them and stared up through the open wounds of the ceiling, basking in the light of the shrunken stars. "Soon, all of Agreste will be speaking my name with fear in their hearts..." Shadows fell across D'Argencourt's face. "... including that arrogant, pompous, weak-minded king!"

The thieves rolled their eyes. They all knew the sad, sob story of how Armand D'Argencourt had once been the finest swordsman in all of Agreste, descended from a long line of conquering warriors. He had been hired as a tutor for King Gabriel's charming son, Prince Adrien. Deep down, however, D'Argencourt had resented the royal family after what they had done to his ancestor Darkblade, after whom he proudly named himself.

Then, just a few months ago, Chief Advisor Lila – who was actually the sorceress Volpina – took over the kingdom with a snap of her fingers, making the king and the prince her slaves. D'Argencourt had risen up in the ranks of the palace guard. For that one short moment, he thought his family dream had finally come true.

That is, until a certain spotted, yo-yo-wielding, baker's brat came swinging to the rescue and ruined everything.

Now Volpina was gone, Gabriel was sitting back comfortably on the throne, and Prince Adrien was set to marry the beloved, heroic Ladybug.

So D'Argencourt had decided to take matters into his own hands. He snuck out of the palace and started gathering followers to his cause: thieves, cutthroats, and swordsmen – anyone who also wanted a piece of the fortune they would receive once King Gabriel was out of the picture.

Well, that's what "Darkblade" had promised them. Unfortunately, the Master of Thievery's sense of leadership was somewhat lacking compared to his swordsmanship. For one thing, D'Argencourt hadn't been able to swipe a single coin during their raid, hence the reason why he was swiping the jeweled flower and anything that piqued his fancy.

One man looked away bitterly... until something along the ground made him gasp. "What's that?!" he cried.

The others turned just in time to see a large, twisted shadow moving along the stone floor.

Now all the thieves were inhaling with horror and cringing back, their frightened voices overlapping:

"A shadow!"

"It moves!"

"Some kind of monster!"

Their "noble leader" shrieked the loudest of them all, his pupils shrinking. "Ghost!"

Thankfully, one of the big thieves had the courage to look up.

Up along the connected stone pillars, contrasting darkly against the backdrop of torches, was a hooded figure.

"You there!" the big thief shouted, pointing.

The figure froze, snapped around, and then picked up the pace.

Alya cursed herself for being so precarious.

Heaving her bag of loot over her shoulder, the former street thief ran along the archway and then leapt onto a nearby gargoyle.

Unfortunately, she underestimated the aim of the infamous Armand D'Argencourt.

A small blade came spinning and struck itself against the spot where Alya's hand was about to grab onto. Alya cried out as she wrenched her hand back before the blade hit her. But the momentum caused her to lose her balance, and she fell backwards off the column and onto the cold, hard ground. Her bag fell from her hands, and a few coins popped out, along with a gleaming candelabrum.

Groaning, Alya tried to get back up, but two pairs of hands unceremoniously lifted her high up by her arms. Now she was dangling off the ground. Her orange hood slipped off, revealing her wavy locks of auburn hair.

Alya squirmed and kicked out as D'Argencourt strolled over to her with an emotionless gaze.

"Get your dirty hands off me, you big palookas!" the redhead spat before glaring down at the thief leader through her glasses.

D'Argencourt's blue eyes squinted into her flaring, amber ones as he stroked his curly mustache. "Ah, yes!" he finally said with a grin. "I remember you: King Gabriel's new pet rat."

The other thieves cackled around them, making Alya flush.

"My name is Alya," the redhead corrected with the tone of an angry jaguar, "and I'm no one's "pet", you traitor."

D'Argencourt didn't seem offended by that as he walked over and stroked her cheek. "But you are the friend of the royal family, are you not?" he asked sweetly. "Tell me: does your dear bug friend know you've been sneaking out past your bedtime?"

Alya responded by trying to bite his fingers off.

Hissing, the thief leader regained his cold demeanour and stated, "I have no doubt you'll be worth a fine ransom... especially if the prince's fiancée wants you back in one piece." With that, he drew his long rapier and held the tip underneath Alya's chin.

The former thief stiffened, suddenly wishing she hadn't been so bold.

"Put her down, D'Argencourt."

The voice – a girl's voice – was like a dark moan on the wind, and the entire temple went silent as several heads turned in all directions, looking for the source.

Alya sneered at the perplexed Master of Thievery. "You shouldn't have said that," she sang.

Before D'Argencourt could respond to that remark, something red zipped through the air and whacked one of Alya's captors in the noggin. The man leapt back with a yelp, dropping Alya in the process.

This gave the redhead the chance to leap up, grab the other guy's turban, and yank it down over his face. He let out a muffled cry and released Alya's other arm. Then, she picked up the fallen candelabrum and whacked him on the head with it. The beefy man fell to the ground with a thud.

All the while, the spinning red thing zipped back through the air... into the hands of a dark-haired girl wearing a red, black-polka-dotted bodysuit and matching mask. She stood proudly on top of a broken pillar, her bluebell eyes hard but her smile warm and mischievous.

The man she had hit with her yo-yo growled and charged at her... until something long and shiny tripped him up at the feet. The burly brigand fell forward with a crash and lay there in a groaning heap.

Someone was whistling a happy little tune as he stepped into the light and retracted his metal staff into a baton. His bodysuit was all black with clawed gloves on his hands, a belt for a tail, and leathery tuffs on his spiky, golden hair for ears. He too wore a mask, but the green eyes he bore were glowing and cat-like.

"Watch your step, big boy," Cat Noir said with playful glance at the fallen thief.

Alya watched with a big grin as her best friend leapt off the pillar.

The red girl stepped on and over the heads of four thieves like they were stepping stones, until she leapt off again and came to stand beside Alya and Cat Noir.

"Sorry we're late," Ladybug said to Alya with a smile. "Travel by yo-yo is downright impossible in a desert."

The remaining thieves had been watching the whole thing with stunned expressions.

D'Argencourt, on the other hand, had not been so easily fazed. He looked at Cat Noir with poisonous disdain. "Your Highness," he grumbled.

Prince Adrien of Agreste remained impassive, but those oblong pupils seemed to thin out at the sight of his former teacher. "D'Argencourt," he said with a twinge of pity. "Looking sharp, as usual."

The thief leader shifted his gaze to Ladybug... or rather, Marinette the baker's daughter.

Alya grinned at the sudden scowl on D'Argencourt's face. He's probably still baffled that a mere girl like Mari defeated the likes of a supreme sorceress, she thought.

"I'm surprised you came in costume, Ladybug," D'Argencourt said. "Now that everyone in the kingdom knows who you are, I would've thought your days of theatrics were behind you."

Marinette shrugged and spun her yo-yo until it was a glowing ring of red light. "What can I say?" she said with a wink at her fiancé. "The red really brings out the blue in my eyes."

Adrien smiled at her as he twirled his baton in his hand. "It really does," he said dreamily.

Alya made a face, her tanned cheeks turning bright maroon. She always thought it was touching to see her friends flirt like that, but... "Really, guys? Now?" Alya whined.

D'Argencourt also went red in the face, but not from embarrassment. "Get them!" he shouted, pointing his rapier at the young trio.

Thieves came at them from both sides, but Adrien only grinned like it was no big deal.

The men tackled them, and a plume of dust erupted around them.

When the dust cleared, the thieves were grasping each other with suffocating strength. It only took a few seconds for them to realize their error.

"Where'd they go?!" one shouted, perplexed.

"They were just here!" another claimed.

Meanwhile, Adrien tried not to snicker as he slipped behind the unsuspecting jackal-brains and heaved a bag of treasure over his shoulder. Then, he purposefully stood up in the open and took off.

"There he is!" he heard D'Argencourt yell. "He's stealing our loot! Don't let him get away!"

The criminals shouted as they ran after the prince.

But Adrien was quick and nimble, even with a heavy sack on his back. He approached a crumbled wall and vaulted over it, landing right on top of a horse. The startled thing reared back, but Adrien gripped the reins and kicked it into motion. They both took off before the thieves could grab him.

Marinette and Alya sung down from the ceiling on the blunette's yo-yo and knocked a couple of men off their feet.

Landing gently on the ground, Marinette called back her yo-yo and turned to Alya with a firm, worried stare. "You were supposed to wait until we caught up," she said, trying not to sound like she was scolding.

Alya shrugged. "Change of plans – I had to improvise."

A shadow fell over their backs, and the girls snapped around gasping.

"Improvise THIS!" a muscular thief growled as his sword came down.

Marinette back-flipped out of the way, and Alya dodged to the side.

The former scrambled into a low crouch before landing a flying kick to the thief's middle, sending him rolling onto the ground.

Alya got up just as she saw another thief sneaking up on an unsuspecting Marinette.

Amber eyes narrowed, the former thief lifted her candelabrum in front of her. "Hey!" she snapped.

The thief turned to her, snorted like an angry bull, and charged with his sword swinging. Alya parried with the candelabrum, which caught the blade between its arms. Alya smirked and swung the whole thing in a circle before heaving it off to the side. The blade slipped out of the man's fingers...

... and almost beheaded an incoming D'Argencourt. But the thief leader ducked just in time, the blade just barely shaving his hair.

Unfortunately, Alya's attacker had another sword.

The redhead side-stepped out of his reach, right behind a tight rope tied to the ground. Glancing up, Alya saw a chandelier suspended above her... and an idea came to her.

Gripping the rope, Alya stuck her tongue out at the swordsman.

As expected, he swiped at her again... only this time, his blade connected with the rope instead of Alya.

Alya squealed as she was dragged up into the air.

Below her, the chandelier came down on a group of annoyed thieves. They screamed, but were unable to get out of the way. The heavy metal thing crashed down on them with a sound that made Alya wince.

The redhead finally let go of the rope and somersaulted gracefully as she lost her momentum.

But her heart stopped when she realized what she was about to land on.

Four thieves raised their swords above their heads, laughing cruelly. The blades gleamed in the firelight, waiting to skewer the unwitting redhead.

Alya cried out as she kept on falling...

... until someone swung by and caught her just in time.

A wave of relief washed over Alya as she clung onto Marinette, who flew them both up to the top of the connected pillars.

"Nice catch," Alya sighed with half-a-laugh once they landed.

Marinette just smiled.

Adrien raced through the temple on his stolen steed and snatched up more bags of treasure. Anyone who came at him got batted away by his staff.

Adrien smirked as he passed by a frightful thief. "Pardon me," he said gentlemanly as he circled around the man and grabbed onto his belt. Then he gave it a good yank.

The thief spun around like a top and collided with a few of his cohorts, who had been trying to catch the prince. Now they just scattered onto the floor like bowling pins.

Adrien pumped up the muscles in his arms. "Cat Noir-style – boo-yah!" he cheered as he snapped his fingers and pointed them at the fallen crooks.

Up above, the prince heard a familiar voice: "Come on, silly Kitty – let's get out of here!"

Adrien looked up at his beautiful fiancée and bowed at the waist. "As Milady wishes," he called back.

Marinette spun her yo-yo and then held onto Alya as they swung off.

Adrien turned his horse around and rode after them.

Suddenly, someone jumped from behind a pillar and grabbed onto the prince as he rode by.

That same someone dragged Adrien right out of his saddle, and he toppled onto the hard stone floor.

Groaning and rolling to a stop, the prince snapped up, shaking his head to clear his dizzying vision.

Then he heard a cold, posh growl in front of him. "You're going to regret crossing with me, boy."

Marinette sighed as she and Alya reached the doors of the temple. She could hear the thieves not far behind them.

Two royal stallions – born and bred from the palace stables – whinnied happily at the sight of them.

The sound of hooves clapping along stone made Marinette smile, and she turned.

But then her stomach dropped when Adrien's horse came towards them with all the stolen treasure... but no rider.

Alya caught on right away, and she glanced at her best friend with wide eyes. "Where's Adrien?"

Marinette's bluebell eyes turned deadly sharp.

Adrien rose to his feet, his cat-like eyes narrowing at his former teacher.

He still found it hard to believe that this man had been the one to teach him combat and self-defence. He had always known D'Argencourt to be as stiff as dried mud, but Adrien never imagined his teacher would fall to something as unrighteous as thievery.

D'Argencourt unsheathed his rapier and held it at his side in a ready position. "So now it comes to this," he said with no remorse in his voice. "Once I deal with you, Adrien, I'll pay a warm welcome to your father. Then Agreste will have a new king to lead them!"

He's just like Volpina, Adrien thought as he pointed his staff at the crooked man, a villain in pursuit of power. "The people have accepted my father as their king," he stated firmly. "They'll never allow a crook like you to rule, D'Argencourt."

The thief leader laughed. "Your people matter not to me. The words of peasants are nothing but gnats in my ears. All I want is what my ancestor was robbed of long ago. Your Ladybug may have defeated Volpina..." He raised his sword. "... but you shall not defeat Darkblade. En garde!"

Adrien charged and struck.

Their weapons clashed and clanged, sending sparks flying upon the stones. A few thieves stopped to watch them from the sidelines.

Both master and apprentice fought well, yet only Adrien was breaking a sweat. He had forgotten how good his teacher was; always beating him in every practice duel they ever fought. Only this wasn't practice anymore.

Adrien leapt backwards from a hard parry and crouched, panting heavily.

Then, to his surprise, D'Argencourt grinned and opened his arms out, exposing his middle.

Before he could think twice, Adrien rushed forward and swung his staff...

... only for D'Argencourt to twirl out of the way and whack the prince's weapon away with one swing of his rapier.

Adrien stumbled forward before he felt a boot colliding with his abdomen. He fell back hard against a stone pillar, hunched over from the pain in his middle. "Damn," he cursed silently. "I can't believe I fell for that."

D'Argencourt laughed cruelly. "Clearly, you are a poor student."

The prince looked up at him... and smiled. "My new teacher would disagree with you," he said, holding out a sparkling object in his clenched hand.

It was the pink jeweled flower!

D'Argencourt gasped, glanced down at his vest – now bare – and his face turned red as burning coals. Then he pointed his rapier at the prince's chest. "Kill him!"

Adrien's eyes widened as a horde of angry thieves rushed towards him.

A spinning, red yo-yo popped down in front of his face.

Grinning, Adrien grabbed it, saluted the thieves, and flew up into the air just as their swords came down.

Below, D'Argencourt let out a frustrated, "GUUUH!"

Adrien landed nimbly next to his Ladybug on top of the pillar. He presented her the flower. "For you, Milady."

Marinette smiled and took it. "Aw, you shouldn't have," she said sweetly before giving him a quick kiss that told Adrien, Don't scare me like that again.

Together, they zip-lined through the temple, soaring right over the thieves' heads. They landed right at the temple entrance, where Alya was waiting for them with their horses.

Marinette and Adrien mounted as Alya stared at the prince inquisitively.

"Why is she always the one rescuing you?" the former thief asked with a smirk.

Adrien frowned playfully at her. "I could ask you the same thing," he jeered. "Weren't you supposed to wait for us?"

Marinette rolled her eyes with a sigh. "We can debate about that later," she said, pulling on her reins. "Next stop: Agreste!"

All three friends urged their steeds through the gaping doorway, and the thieves ran after them in vain.

Before long, the three heroes cleared the mountain and emerged back into the calm, dark desert. They rode through the sea of sand and stars towards freedom... and home.