I let out an unflattering “Ooof.”
Xavier grumbled, “You are an idiot!”
Bombarded by audience laughter, I felt the idiot’s hands roam my sides. Our squirrel, squished beside me, bit him hard enough for the fat slob to feel it through his drunken stupor. He bolted to all fours. To my shock and horror, and that of the children in the audience, he jammed his knee down on the squirrel. His little ribs snapped like breaking twigs.
The audience collectively gasped. The poor rodent screeched. Its tiny limbs struggling but going nowhere. A chorus of booing erupted.
The fat sot sniggered, attempting to get up and lunge again, but he never made it. The prince, Sir Raleigh, and the soldier stormed the stage. They heaved him off the edge of the platform. Xavier moved to stand over the squirrel, his staff raised, about to drive the bottom down onto the wailing rodent. I groaned at the stupidity. The Ambrosius crushing the animal to death while visible onstage would earn us less than nothing!
Moonlight shot through the broken pane, finding my hand at the same time I grabbed Xavier’s staff to stop him. My veins turned ice-cold—so cold they burned. I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the pain before I screamed. In the darkness, I saw the draignoch’s claw dangling in the air just before me. My free hand ached as if someone was trying to punch a nail through it—from the inside out. The cold shot through me like an arrow released from its bow.
Gasps rang out.
“Do you see that?” Porchie called out.
“Is that the moon doing that?” a woman cried.
“I think he’s doing that! Xavier! Calling to the moon!” another retorted.
I opened my eyes and found the moonbeams traveling the staff, striking the blue sapphire at the top, casting the room in frenetic azure droplets. Xavier glanced at the source, moonlight streaming through the busted windowpane. He began a slow chant, as if unsure what to do other than look magical.
The squirrel wheezed. Within reach, I slid my hand down the staff, planning to yank him offstage. My hand fell on his tiny chest. Broken ribs the size of toothpicks, one stabbed into his tiny heart. All this, I saw. Then I saw the light fuse the bones back together, guiding the last out of his tiny failing heart. Xavier’s singing reached a fevered pitch. He slammed the staff on the stage so hard I felt the jolt deep down inside.
The squirrel jumped up with a start.
There was no time to ruminate over what had happened. I let go of the shaft to scoop him up before he could get away. As soon as I did, the blue glow went out, and the little rascal bit me again.
“Ow!”
“Did you see that?” someone called.
“Xavier the Ambrosius brought the squirrel back to life!” the little girl in the front row exclaimed. She clapped furiously.
The audience rose to their feet to get a good look at the vermin. I wanted to break the wretched thing’s neck but knew the pot would be full tonight so long as we finished the show in spectacular fashion. I lifted the squirrel over my head.
“You all bore witness! Xavier the Ambrosius brought this dying animal back to life!” I declared.
Xavier’s head lifted high, meeting every admiring gaze. I turned around, finding Prince Jori staring into the empty box. “I don’t understand. I expected another squirrel, but is that the same squirrel? Did Xavier really heal him?”
My eyes darted to the heavy coin pouch on his belt. I smiled and held the struggling animal out to him. “Oh yes. He did. He healed him, and now, if he doesn’t stop biting me, I’m going to eat him for dinner.”
He gaped in obvious astonishment as I dropped the snapping squirrel into the box and slammed the lid shut.
All hailed Xavier’s name, giving him the loudest round of applause I had ever heard. I couldn’t fathom what had truly happened. Xavier had never touched the squirrel. I had. And the power still pulsed like a heartbeat in the center of my palm.
Xavier stepped offstage. He set the bowl on the table where the prince had been sitting. Coins clinked as patrons emptied their pockets. They touched Xavier’s robe as if a god stood before them, wearing mirroring expressions of fear blended with awe. Some even kissed his robe, handing over their tokens for a blessing.
All that coin. My stomach began to grumble, anticipating the meal my share would buy. Then I turned and saw the prince, standing behind me, nod to Raleigh in the crowd. Raleigh said something to the soldier, who dashed through the throngs around Xavier. Raleigh paced toward the stage to join the prince.
Run.
I started to, jumping off the stage, making it halfway there, but Xavier caught my arm. “Where do you think you’re going, lass? Get the props. Clean up the mead from the floor. I’ll tend to the pot before someone makes off with it. We’re not foraging for watercress tonight!”
I fully intended to ignore Xavier’s demands when I saw the soldier beside the exit. There was no way past him.
Unable to think of a way out, I stepped onstage, moving behind the curtain. Sir Raleigh and Prince Jori paced toward me, forcing me to walk backward until I bumped into the rear wall of the tavern, beneath the broken window.
I was trapped.
“Maggie! What did I say?” Xavier came behind the curtain and found our company. He set the pot inside the trunk, locking it, thinking they were thieves.
“Can I help you?” Xavier said to Sir Raleigh.
“Yes, you can,” Prince Jori answered. “I’m intrigued by your talents, Xavier. I’ve heard tale of a great Ambrosius, a truly magical being, and perhaps you really are the one we seek. You see, we’ve seen a great many pretenders in the Walled City.”
“We? Who are you?” I asked.
“Forgive me.” He passed me a knowing smile. “Let me first properly introduce myself. I am Prince Jori. By we, of course, I mean my father, King Umbert, and I.”
Xavier’s mouth fell open and he gave a stilted bow. “I—I—Well, I— Your Grace . . . I am the Ambrosius you seek. I can promise you that. What can I do for you?” He eyed his coin bag.
I gripped my skirts in my fists to keep my hands from trembling, and curtsied, pretending this was news to me.
The prince continued, “You and your lovely daughter will come to the Walled City to perform for the opening night feast of the Draignoch Festival.”
It wasn’t a request. It was an order.
Xavier’s cheeks reddened.
The Walled City held a special place in all Hinterfolks’ minds. Rumors spoke of food at the plenty. Fine linens for dresses. Hearth always burning. Music and dances around every corner. A place where happiness was not earned, but free.
I wanted to see such a place. But even more than that, I wanted to see the draignoch.
Xavier’s face broke into a grin. “You honor me, sire.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The prince touched my shoulder. “How is your hand?”
I pursed my lips, confused.
“Where the animal bit you, my lady?” He picked up my hand without asking my permission to do so.
I yanked it back. “It’s fine. He does it all the time. And, um, I am not a lady, sire.”
He slipped his hands behind his back, half smiling. “Take it as a compliment, then.”
I worried I’d offended him.
He turned back to Xavier abruptly. “I’m afraid I must leave straightaway, but rest assured Sir Raleigh will deliver you both to the city safely.”