The king sat down in his throne. His laughter started slowly, then rose, filling the room. “She’s good, Xavier. I can see why you haven’t sold her or married her off. My son could take a few lessons from her.”
Jori laughed nervously.
“What is it you want, Xavier?” the king asked.
“Time and freedom.” I answered for him because that was what I needed. Time and space to move so I could figure out how to get Rendicryss free and us out of this place. “The constant threat of death, and the guards traipsing after, would be more than anyone could take if asked to do the impossible.” I turned to Xavier. “Isn’t that right, Father?”
He stared at me, bemused, but then he seemed to understand. “Yes.”
The king frowned, so I was surprised when he agreed. “Time and freedom. Done. Now, what miracle will I be witnessing?”
Xavier licked his lips. “Better not to tell you but show you. If I could ask you, sire, to step away from the dais. I would like to use that space.”
The king moved to the other side of the room. Bradyn inched out of the shadows, curiosity getting the better of him.
Now came the hard part. Earlier, in that windowless room, my energy drained like a bladder with a slow leak. But if anything, since walking into the king’s chambers, I had only grown stronger. The moon was three-quarters full, and so close I could see visible peaks and valleys mixed in with the brightness.
You can do this, I thought, taking long breaths. My heart pounded. Pulse raced. My nerves heartily disagreed.
I stood behind Xavier. Confidence rising, I grasped the staff, sliding my hands until they bumped Xavier’s.
Xavier chanted, lifting the staff and lowering it, over and over, his call to whatever god or goddess he prayed to growing louder and louder. . . . Maybe the words meant something. But within this small room, with only three in audience, the language sounded fake. Made up.
Meaningless.
In the past, I’d thought it was charming, how he put this whole show together, but standing here, with our lives on the line, it made me angry.
I thought to get this over with quickly. A rabbit or a cheetah, the sense memories of their soft and stiff fur coming to mind easily. Shielded by Xavier from the prince’s and king’s prying eyes, I opened my palm, feeling the intensity of the light through the window. So close, but so far too. Silently summoning, I was ignored.
I tried drawing the animals with fingers, but the room remained empty of moonlight. Closing my eyes did nothing either.
Those other times I had touched the animals immediately prior. That was what was missing. If I could get to the greyhounds, it could work, but that was impossible. The magic needed to happen now.
I growled, frustrated, garnering the king’s attention.
“What?” Xavier mouthed, then sang an ominous tune, raising the staff, aiming the sapphire at the moon.
Before I knew what I was doing, I lifted the staff higher, and slammed it down on the dais.
Bright light shot down from the moon, striking the glass window, burning a perfectly round hole. A high-pitched shriek came with it, whining until it found my hand. The energy thrummed. The humming radiated. My teeth rattled. I clamped down hard and turned my palm up. Like striking a mirror, the light changed direction, traveling up the staff, hitting my target. The sapphire. The moonbeam struck a facet with so much intensity, it shot as if it was an arrow taking flight from a released bowstring.
Bradyn screamed.
King Umbert squealed with delight.
Panicked, I closed my fist and my eyes, willing the moon to let go of me. The humming ceased. My hand cooled. I did my best to hide my excitement.
But when I opened my eyes, Xavier’s jaw dropped. His expression turned cold. He had seen. He knew it was me.
“You did it!” I hugged him, making a show for the king.
Bradyn slumped on the ground.
“Bradyn?” I gasped. Oh, no. What have I done?
I ran to him and picked up his head, feeling warm wetness. Blood. Sick over what I had done, bile rose in the back of my throat, making my mouth taste like vomit. “He’s bleeding.” I swallowed repeatedly. I needed to heal him, but I couldn’t do it here. Not with them watching.
King Umbert had the nerve to clap, and then he laughed. “You are the magic, Xavier. You are the Ambrosius! You have your time and freedom. I want more of this! Much more.” I could hear the lust in his voice. More of this?
“Bradyn needs help! We need to get him out of here!” I called to Jori.
Bradyn was more than half my weight, and I struggled to pick him up. Jori helped at first.
“Where are you going?” King Umbert snapped.
“The boy’s badly hurt, sire. I’m taking him to the physician.”
“What? No. Leave him there.” King Umbert fingered the sapphire in Xavier’s staff. “We have important things to discuss, Jori.”
Jori’s hands fell away. He didn’t have the courage to disobey. “He’ll be all right.”
“No. He won’t!”
The door opened. A big servant carrying a tray of ale pitchers took one look at me struggling with Bradyn and went to set the tray down. He nodded in the king’s direction and let out a fright-filled whimper as he lifted an unconscious Bradyn into his arms. He left in a hurry.
“Maggie, get back here!” Xavier called.
But I was already gone.
“Time and freedom!” I called. And they began tonight.
Twelve
Griffin
Cold wind swept the bridge between the castle and the king’s tower as Griffin paced. He shouldn’t be here, but he found it impossible to stay away. Dinner in the Great Hall had been an abysmal affair. Silas’s death weighed heavy, smothering conversation and appetite. Ragnas’s table was empty for said reasons. The same likely happened last year as competition died in the arena, only if it did, Griffin had been too thrilled by his advancement to notice.
He hardly knew the competitors then. They were all from families in the Top, where people could afford to spend hours on a practice green. If it hadn’t been for Thoma’s father, Wolfbern, giving him lodging in exchange for work, and Hugo giving him paid hours off at the smithy to spend with Raleigh, Griffin could never have afforded training. But after living a year in the palace, Griffin knew them all. After what Silas had done to help the boy hit by Griffin’s axe, he couldn’t sit there, listening to Jori regale them with the story of Rendicryss’s capture, which he’d told many times before.
Maggie wasn’t there. She was smart enough to nap through it, Griffin suspected.
As he rose to leave dinner, intending to go to Ragnas’s house to pay his respects, Jori had stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought to pay a visit to Laird Ragnas and Lady Aofrea.”
“I shall go with you,” Malcolm said, rising. “Cornwall, you should as well. Brother?”
Cornwall had then stood, but Jori was having none of it.
“No. Silas’s death is his own fault. His match was over before it started. A true embarrassment. His father and mother couldn’t even show their faces here. I doubt we’ll ever see them again within these walls.”
Griffin was shocked at the prince’s venom. Cold. Callous. He sounded very much like his father when he spoke to Jori.