Page 77 of The Starling and the Hatter

“See,” someone shouted.

I whipped my head around to see that it was Daggon speaking.

“She’s the thief! She’s—”

“And so are you,” said the guard who’d been searching him as he pulled a jeweled dagger from Daggon’s boot. “Looks a bit too fancy for a peddler. Does this belong to anyone?” the guard asked, holding it up in the air.

A large man heaved himself to his feet. “That’s mine,” he blustered, red-faced. “It even has my family crest on it.”

The guard looked more closely at the dagger. “So it does.” He gave Daggon a haughty glare.

With each word, the duchess’s fury burned hotter and the duke became dangerously silent.

“Daggon,” Morley said in a voice that indicated both confusion and censure.

“Shut it, Morley,” Daggon spat at him. They each glared at the other as the great hall filled with murmurs of indignation and shouts for retribution.

“I’ve seen enough,” the duke said when the guards had finished their search.

All fell silent.

His voice wasn’t booming. It was a perfectly normal volume, but the weight it carried smothered all movement and conversation, and we each held our breath to hear his next words.

“Guards, take the Wolfe brothers and the Starling to the dungeon. It seems they all have plenty to answer for.”

My heart fell to my feet as fear blanketed Elise’s face. No. Not Elise. Not trapped in a dungeon for something she did not do. No.

My feet moved toward her, but a guard put a hand to my chest with a warning look. How could they believe her guilty? How could her brothers betray her so thoroughly?

All I could do was stare after her as she looked at me with terror, her eyes begging for help that I could not give. My own ineptitude slammed into me, making my fists clench and my whole body shake.

Just before she was pulled out of sight, the hope died in her eyes and she looked away from me. She knew as well as I did that my hands were tied.

Once Elise and her brothers were out of the dining hall, it erupted in exclamations and hushed conversations. The nobles looked affronted, while the performers looked defensive and uncomfortable. The woman who had been with the Wolfe brothers sat silent and small on her cushion, likely hoping everyone would forget about her.

“It seems I misjudged my guests,” the duke said, and once again the room fell silent. “After this unfortunate incident, I have lost my appetite for amusements.”

“Get out, all of you!” the duchess yelled, her ire unchecked.

But the duke held up a calming hand and she quieted, turning away in fury. “Please,” he said, gesturing toward the group in a gracious way, though he too seemed to be having trouble controlling his anger. “Finish your meal, and then you will be asked to depart, and every entertainer will need to be searched on the way out.” There arose protests, but he held up his hand again. “I know it is not fair that all should suffer for the crimes of a few. But that is the lot we’ve been dealt this evening. So please, sit.” The word sit was not an invitation; it was a command. So although most of the festival rats in the room were more than ready to scurry out of the palace and return to where they were comfortable, each of us retook our seats and nervously resumed our meals.

The duke watched until everyone had taken a seat. Only then did he take his eyes from the group and turn to his guards. “And somebody, FIND THAT MAGICIAN!” he yelled.

The captain of the guard was quick to give direction and assignments as all the guests did their best to finish their meal.

But I couldn’t stomach another bite, not when my mind was tortured with images of where Elise had been taken and the uncertainty of how long she would be there.

So I bided my time until a few guests started to leave. Then I stood and made my way out of the palace, submitting to yet another search before I was permitted to walk away.

24

Elise

I walked on shaking knees, the guard’s rough hand holding tight to my arm and pulling me along through corridors and down some stairs. We reached a door more formidable than most. It wasn’t difficult to guess where it would lead. My brothers’ blustering protests died when that door swung open and the dank air rose up to engulf us. The guard pushed me ahead of him, and no matter how much I wished to be brave, my steps were tentative as I walked down the stone steps, the sound of my footfalls deadened by the moisture and the uneven stones of the wall. I stepped down the final stair with my heart in my throat, shaking so violently that I was almost numb. The corridor in front of me was barely lit. The ceiling was low, the walls close and shadowed. We passed two doors before the guard opened one of the cells. “In you go,” he said.

I stepped barely inside and stopped, terrified to move farther into the darkness. He closed the door, the bars pushing against the back of my skirt. I stayed there, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and listening to my brothers being escorted into their own cells. At least they were not being put in with me. It sounded like Daggon was being shoved into the cell right across from me. Morley was put in the cell to my right, though when I cut my eyes in that direction, I met only darkness. The doors were bars, but the walls were solid stone.

As the guards all retreated from the corridor and back up the stairs, my eyes adjusted enough to see that I was alone in the cell, which allowed me to breathe a little easier. A thick wooden bench sat along one wall, and I managed to walk over to it before collapsing onto it. I wrapped my arms around myself, rocking back and forth, trying to keep my wits about me. I hummed to keep myself from going crazy, adjusting the melody over and over, filling my ears with the notes and my head with words to go along with it. I shut out the sound of my brothers arguing with one another and just hummed.