“It will be done, sire.” Raleigh set his hands on his sword belt and stepped back, giving the prince room to advance.
“I shall see you both when you arrive, then.” Prince Jori gave me a warm, tilting smile before jumping off the stage. He walked with determination out of the tavern, with several soldiers following after him.
And yet, there were still more. At least fifteen of King Umbert’s soldiers, by my quick count. Where had they all come from?
“Can you believe our luck?” Xavier exclaimed to me. He spoke to Sir Raleigh. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ll pack our things and prepare for tomorrow.”
Sir Raleigh shook his head in a slow, methodical way. “We’ll pack your wagon. We leave at first light, otherwise a three-day journey will take four. I’ve secured rooms. Food and drink will be brought up. Go now. Get some sleep.”
We were escorted to our rooms, making it impossible for Xavier and me to talk about what exactly had happened.
Once in my room, I couldn’t stop thinking about the draignoch.
She’d done something to me. It was the only explanation that made sense.
I had to find her. I had to figure out what power she had over me.
After a dinner of warm bread and hard cheese, I stood over a washbowl, scrubbing my muddy shoes, when someone knocked softly.
I slid the bolt and found myself staring at Prince Jori’s shy smile. “Excuse the late intrusion.”
“Sire.” I curtsied, only to realize I was standing before him in my shift. I grabbed the blanket from my bed and tossed it around my shoulders. “I thought you left.”
“Soon . . .” He twisted a flower stem between his thumb and finger. “I saw this and thought of you. It’s a wild rose.”
“Yes. It is.” I knew them well. Five red, delicate petals surrounding a brilliant yellow center.
“They grow near the barn,” he added, explaining where it had come from. He held it out to me, but I refused to take it.
It was the king’s flower. “They grow all over the Hinterlands. But, sire, it’s illegal to pick them.”
He grinned widely. “Not for me. Please, take it. I picked it especially for you.”
I should have been flattered. I awkwardly reached out for it. “Thank you.”
Our hands brushed in passing, eliciting a knowing smile from the prince. “Raleigh has assured me you will be well taken care of on the way back. You will have your own tent, away from the men. But rest knowing you will be heavily guarded too.” He must have seen my expression sour. “For your safety, Maggie.”
I didn’t like the sound of it. “I can take care of myself.”
Prince Jori pressed his lips tightly together, as if holding back a secret. “So I’ve seen.”
Ah, so he did recognize me from our encounter in the woods. I sniffed the delicate flower, trying to hide my shock.
“Sire? The men are saddled,” a soldier called.
“Very well.” He turned to leave. “I look forward to seeing you soon, Maggie. Safe travels.”
As soon as I heard the prince’s footsteps on the stairs, the guard pulled my door shut. I hid the flower beneath the washbowl, worried someone would accuse me of picking it, and crawled into bed, exhausted but unable to fall asleep. First, I pondered whether Prince Jori would’ve told Sir Raleigh that it was me who stabbed Moldark. If he had, why hadn’t Raleigh arrested me? Was he waiting to do that once inside the Walled City? But then, why wait? Why not lop off my hand now? I stared at my tingling palm. The power. It was still there, but what was it?
I sat up to reach the window, pulling the curtain back, and pressed my hand against the glass. A moonbeam no thicker than thread dropped from the dark sky, the end dangling like a dewdrop.
Full of wonder, I pushed open the window to catch it. Cold breeze rushed into the already chilly room. But for some mysterious reason, I wasn’t cold in the slightest. The moonlight traveled from my palm up my arm until it touched my scar, tracing it.
“Ha!” Incredible. The lines and dots glowed, twinkling in the darkness of my room.
I stared at the moon. “I don’t understand. What is happening to me?”
I crawled to the other side of the bed, stretching the moon’s thread until it was so thin it was barely visible, waiting, but for what?
“What is this?” I yelled at the moon, thrusting my hand in its face, feeling like an idiot.
The silence was infuriating.
I slammed the window shut, pulling the curtain so the moon couldn’t find me. I was immediately overwhelmed by a terrible sense of loss, my chest filling with a frigid dread. Shivering uncontrollably, I ripped the curtain back, feeling relieved, yet terrified at the relief. Whatever that draignoch did to me, I was never going to be the same.
Soldiers woke us at first light in a hurry to leave. On the chance that Prince Jori had said nothing of my identity to Sir Raleigh, I left my usual traveling clothes beneath the bed in the room and put on my costume dress. I never wore it except onstage. The old wool itched and if it got wet, I would smell like an old sheep as we entered the grand Walled City, but it was better than being recognized and losing my hand.
I slipped it on and stood far enough back to see myself in the little mirror on the night table. I was heading to the Walled City, to the festival to perform. I had to look like a lady, even if I didn’t feel like one. Throwing my shoulders back, I stood taller, and combed my unruly curls with my fingers, twisting a few around my face, leaving the rest loose and hanging down my back. I smiled sweetly at my reflection, feeling like a complete idiot. Ladylike I was not, but I supposed I could pretend to be.
I rode in our wagon with Xavier while Sir Raleigh and his men fanned out, some ahead and others traipsing behind. As soon as we hit open road, Xavier spoke in hushed tones.
“Maggie, the squirrel . . . the moonlight . . . ,” he started, then glanced up, perhaps looking for the moon, then around to make sure the men were out of earshot. Once satisfied, he added, “I gave this a lot of thought last night. And I need to know. Was it . . . you?”
I should have told him the truth, that I believed it was, but I hesitated. Any mention of the draignoch would draw the soldiers’ attention.
“No,” I said with conviction. “It wasn’t.” A second later I felt guilty for lying to him.
He glared at me. “I ran through every memory, every motion that led up to that event. Where my hands were, how the jewels were placed, when I touched the staff to the floor. But I never did touch the squirrel. That was you. Your hand.” His expression turned angry. His hot moldy breath gusted into my face. “You’ve found an instrument of real magic, haven’t you? You’re keeping it from me! Where is it? Where have you hidden it?” He grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. “Give it to me! Give it to me now!”
The soldiers stared at the fuss he was making.
I’d only ever seen that look on Xavier’s face once before. It was the look of a man driven insane in the pursuit of something he could never have. Worse now, because he thought I’d found it and was keeping it from him.
“I have nothing,” I growled. “It wasn’t me!” I tried to push him away, but Xavier didn’t let go.
A few months back, Xavier had bought a serpent from a traveler who claimed it had the power to turn people invisible. Before nightfall, he spread it out on a long flat rock and sliced off its head. He drank its blood, howled at the full moon. He had then laid his arms wide and smiled at me, his teeth stained rust, with the same wild eyes.