Page 8 of The Starling and the Hatter

“No,” she said, obviously knowing what I was thinking. “His mother passed on some ten years ago. I married his father six years ago.”

Ah, so the girls were Maddox’s half-sisters.

“I’m Dorothy, by the way. Dorothy Hatcher.” She looked to the toddler on the ground, reaching down to pull a weed from his mouth. “And this is Mosley, but we call him Mouse.”

“A pleasure, Mouse,” I said with a silly curtsey. Mouse responded by grinning and holding up a fistful of dirt. I chuckled at the idea of this little one being called mouse after I’d told Maddox that he was a festival mouse.

“Well, I’d best get back to the house so that Maddox can return.” She took one last deep breath and let it out. “Thank you for looking after things here,” she said as she placed a hand on my forearm. The gesture startled me in its sincerity.

“You’re welcome.”

“Come along, Mouse.” She stooped down and heaved the boy into her arms, where he squealed and kicked his legs. “It was lovely to meet you, Elise,” she called over the toddler’s protests.

“And you.”

As she walked away, I realized just how much I meant it. She’d been kind, and everything about her was a testament to Maddox’s goodness and the strength of his family. I envied that. I did. But not in a jealous way, just in the way of deep, desperate wanting. The past week had been cold and hard. It felt like walking down a path lined with doors, all promising either joy or misery, but I never knew which it would be. Should I run farther? Stay here? Seek work in a shop? Keep singing and following the festival crowd? Door after door of possibilities with no guarantee of success. I still had some of the money I’d taken from my brothers, but it wasn’t much. The gold brooch was securely latched to the inside of my petticoat, where I hoped it would stay for a long time. If the day ever came where I had to sell it, my future would be bleak indeed.

I was anxious for Maddox’s return and the promised five bits.

While he was gone, many festival goers wandered in to look around, but only two seemed truly interested and they promised to come back in a while. I hoped they would.

When I saw Maddox returning, I stood, anxious for payment and to get back to my singing.

Maddox smiled at me. “I hear you met Dorothy.”

“Yes, I was happy to let her know that the girls were safely with you.”

“It’s a shame I didn’t just stay here and wait for her. I could have saved you the inconvenience.”

I shook my head. “It was fine.”

“Didi was quite taken with you,” he announced. “I think she was begging her mother to let you live with us when I left.”

It was a sweet compliment. It should have left me pleased. Instead I just felt a keen sense of loss. What would it be like to live among such people? I hadn’t yet met Maddox’s father, and perhaps there were other family members, but the ease and joy I had seen from those little girls said enough. I forced a smile through my sadness. “They’re sweet girls.” I took a step back. “I should get back to my spot.” I nodded toward the patch of shade where I’d been singing before, but waited for a moment, expecting him to give me the five bits he had promised.

“Of course,” he said without reaching into his pocket. “Thank you again.”

Perhaps I should have asked for the bits, but my bravery failed me. I could carry a purse around and beg coins from onlookers when I was playing the fair damsel in my brothers’ stories, but begging from Maddox—a man I barely knew but already respected and whom I wanted to think well of me…

I couldn’t do it.

I swallowed my disappointment and turned away. In my mind, I had already spent those coins on food for tomorrow. I had planned to allow myself a meal that actually filled my belly instead of just enough to stop the hunger pains. I could pull a few coins from the pockets of the patrons that were still here—no. No. I stopped that thought and reminded myself that I would not become my brothers. I would find a better way. So I was hungry. So what? I sucked in a breath and told myself that I would be fine. I was no worse off than I’d been this morning.

4

Maddox

The day ended and I went through the routine of closing up shop. I pulled everything inside the tent and pulled down the two sides that had been open for the day, securing the flaps before wandering over to a fire that some of the other vendors had lit. They welcomed me with head nods and easy smiles, which was a far cry from the suspicion I’d received the first few times I’d joined them two years ago. They had been accustomed to my father’s presence. He’d been the one to stay overnight with the stall, protecting our livelihood, while I took care of things at home. But once Mosley was born, Dorothy had asked my father to find a way to be home with her in the evenings, and I’d been happy to step into the solitude of festival nights, sleeping behind the tent, under the stars.

The sun was fully set, but there were still some festival goers enjoying the fire dancers and night magicians. I tended to avoid those. Night magicians worked at night because it was easier to steal in the dark. Being around the peddlers and performers full-time had taken some getting used to. They had a different code that I still didn’t quite understand but that I had to respect.

As I stared into the fire, allowing myself to relax, I caught the sounds of one of the songstresses. Odd. The singers didn’t usually stay out past sunset. Some men tended to take that as an invitation. I shook my head. Hopefully whoever it was knew what they were doing.

Now that my ear was tuned to it, the words and tone became more and more clear. A bit of panic rose up when I recognized the Starling’s song.

I was on my feet before I’d decided to act, my long stride following the beacon of her voice. I found her easily. She stood in the middle of a clearing where the fire dancers often performed. Seeing her surrounded by so many people, some of them still holding tankards that were clearly not their first, made me nervous. I didn’t like the hungry look in some of the men’s eyes. I studied the crowd, trying to discern if there were any true threats. It was a relief to see Ludly crouched near the front of the crowd, his fire sticks in hand. Several other members of the Starfire troupe were there as well. They seemed intrigued by her performance, and I could see two of the female fire dancers whispering to one another while pointing to Elise. That made me nervous in a different way. For the most part, the different acts got along well enough and steered clear of each other. But once in a while, cool competition turned to hot rivalry, and if taken too far, things could become dangerous.

I focused back on Elise, and as I studied her movements, I saw that she was more nervous than I’d realized. There was a stiffness to her stance and an awkwardness in her gestures, like she still had to think hard in order to put the performance together.