The Faerie Ring

by Kiki Hamilton

  On impulse, Tiki ran across the vacant street and pushed through the short wrought-iron gate to the entrance, the hinges protesting with a screechy groan. Her heart raced as she ran up the stairs and pressed the latch. She heard a soft click and leaned her shoulder into the door, giving a hard push, but it wouldn’t budge. The front door was locked.

  Behind the house, Tiki approached the back entry through the alley, staying in the shadows of the trees as she drew near. The big double doors to the coach house were open, presumably waiting for Rieker’s return. She crouched behind a tree, watching the coach house for activity, but no one was about this time of night. Tiki took a deep breath and sneaked in through the doors. The black shadows within the stables swallowed her as she entered.

  Tiki stretched her arms out and felt her way along the side of a coach parked in the garage, her boots quiet on the hay strewn across the floor. She could hear the shuffling snorts of several horses. She approached another door at the end of the large room and fumbled for the latch. With a deep breath, she turned the lever and pushed the door open a crack to peer in.

  A harness room.

  Leather bridles and reins in an assortment of sizes and lengths were hung neatly along the wall. The smell of tanned leather filled the air, and Tiki inhaled the fragrant scent as she eased her way through the room. She had taken riding lessons as a young girl, and she had loved every minute of it. The rich smell of the leather brought back fond memories.

  She entered the town house through the back door and paused in a landing area. One doorway opened onto a pantry, another to a scullery. She tiptoed through the rooms, her boots tapping softly with each step on the hardwood floors.

  “Sir, is that you?” a male voice called.

  Tiki jerked through a doorway and pressed herself flat against the wall as the butler climbed the nearby steps from his apartment. She stood frozen, her eyes measuring the distance back to the door, trying to decide if she could escape should he spot her.

  “Master William?” The butler’s footsteps came to a stop at the top of the stairs. He held a candle high to light the way, its flame casting wavering shadows against the wall. “Is that you?” The silence seemed to shout at Tiki. She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t see her dark figure hiding there.

  “Bloody rats,” the man mumbled as he turned and went back to his quarters.

  Tiki released a sigh of relief. She pulled her boots off and tucked them inside one of the cupboards, then tiptoed from the kitchen in bare feet. When she came to the entrance of the dining room, she stopped to stare. The room was immense.

  Rugs that were a full centimeter thick were positioned under a huge, ornate table that Tiki guessed would seat twenty. Carved sideboards lined the walls, with beautiful potted plants in each corner of the room. Large paned windows covered one wall and looked out to a snow-covered garden. A chandelier, hung with teardrop-shaped crystals, sparkled and winked in the candlelight as though acknowledging Tiki’s presence.

  Tiki stared in awe. Maybe someone who owned things this beautiful needed someone as breathtaking as Larkin to finish it off.

  With a quick look over her shoulder toward the butler’s stairs, Tiki moved through the dining room, letting her fingers trail along the backs of the chairs as she passed. The light of the moon reflected off the white snow that covered the trees and ground, casting a surprising amount of illumination through the windows.

  She envisioned Rieker, dressed in his black vest and jacket, with the white cravat he’d worn to the masked ball, sitting at the head of the table, hosting a party. He would fit right in among these luxurious surroundings. A twinge went through her. No place for a pickpocket, though.

  Tiki exited the dining room and went down several steps into an oversize hall. Rich wood paneling stretched to the ceiling, giving the room the cozy feel of a den. She could see another set of stairs, much grander than the first, with an ornate wrought-iron handrail, leading the way to the second floor.

  Tiki eyed the stairs. Rieker’s bedroom had to be on one of the upper floors. She hurried up the steps, her bare feet quiet on the wood floors, afraid to be caught in a spot where she couldn’t hide. She turned in the landing and took the stairs two at a time. At the top of the stairs, she turned left and followed the hallway to two other rooms that appeared to be drawing rooms.

  Retracing her steps, she went past the staircase and found herself in another immense room. Several crystal chandeliers sparkled from the ceiling. This room, however, was devoid of furniture with the exception of several settees that lined the walls. With a start, Tiki realized what the room was used for: It was a ballroom.

  She tried not to stare at the lavishness of gilt-framed paintings and mirrors that lined the walls as she hurried through. It didn’t matter how rich Rieker was. The opulence just emphasized the degree of his deceit.

  A large tearoom opened off the ballroom and led to another, smaller set of stairs. Why would someone like Rieker need this much room in a house? Then, with a twinge, Tiki realized that when Rieker married he and his wife would entertain in this very ballroom. Maybe Larkin would dance barefoot here. Maybe she already had.

  Tiki hurried on, annoyed at herself for letting her imagination run wild. She didn’t care what Rieker did with his ballroom. She walked into the next room and knew at a glance that this suite belonged to Rieker. There was something about the rich, dark furniture, the orderly manner in which the room was arranged, that reminded her of him. Wall sconces had been lit to await his arrival, and the light cast a soft yellow glow about the room.

  She had entered a large bedroom, an oversize four-poster bed to one side with a small alcove of windows beyond that. Across the room from her stood a tall chest of drawers and to her left a passageway. She crept down the passageway, glad for the sconces that had been lit in anticipation of Rieker’s return.

  A doorway led into a closet filled with men’s clothes, hanging neatly in rows. She continued down the hall into a cozy living room. A fire burned low in the grate, the coals glowing orange.

  Tiki retraced her steps to the bedroom and glanced around. A book was open on the side table next to the bed. Curious, she turned it over to read the title. She gasped as she read the words Oliver Twist and dropped the book back on the table with a bang.

  Frightened that she had roused someone with the noise, she jerked around, looking for a place to hide. Though it was a big room, in the shape of a rectangle, she couldn’t see a place where Rieker might not spot her when he entered. On impulse, she lifted the thick quilt that draped down the sides of the large bed and measured the space underneath the frame. Too tight. She wouldn’t fit.

  She whirled around and surveyed the room again. Long drapes were gathered on each side of the three windows in the alcove, and she eyed the dark, damask fabric. The great swaths of material were enough to hide her. She hurried around the bed and slipped behind the curtains, making sure her feet were covered. Convinced that she was in a safe hiding spot, she slid her back down the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees to wait for Rieker’s return.

  * * *

  APPROACHING footsteps jarred Tiki awake. Rieker was home. She scrambled to her feet and readjusted the drapes to disguise her body. She pressed her back to the wall, barely daring to breathe. He walked into the room and let out a tired sigh. One by one his shoes clunked to the floor. Tiki was rigid behind the screen of fabric, straining to hear every sound. Rieker’s muffled footsteps moved toward the chest of drawers. His pocketwatch and other miscellaneous items clattered as they were dropped onto the wooden surface.

  “And you, my little beauty,” Rieker said in a low voice, “have been a lot of work. I hope you’re worth it.” Tiki heard the clink of metal landing on wood. Rieker sighed again, and Tiki could picture him running his hand through his hair. Then his footsteps became fainter as he headed down the hallway toward the closet.

  Now was her chance.

  Tiki peeked around the edge of the curtain. Down the
hallway, another door closed. She inched her way out from behind the drapes and tiptoed over to the dresser. Her heart tripped over itself. There, glowing in the subdued light of the room, was the queen’s ring.

  For a second, Tiki was transported back in time and she stood in the royal library again, debating whether to steal the ring for the first time. With a shaking hand, she reached out and her fingers closed over the stone. A wave of intense relief washed over her. She had it. Now she could negotiate for Clara’s release.

  “What a pleasant surprise.” Rieker’s cool, sardonic voice sliced through the room like a knife. Tiki jerked around with a gasp. He leaned against the doorjamb, his white shirt partially unbuttoned and untucked from his black trousers, a black vest slung over his arm.

  “You knew I was here,” Tiki said with sudden realization.

  “I followed muddy footprints from the harness room. They were much too small to fit any of my staff, all of whom, with the exception of Charles, my butler, are asleep at the moment. The only other person I could think of who might have an interest in my whereabouts at this hour was you. Call it a lucky guess.” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you here, Tiki? Don’t you trust me?”

  For a second, Tiki thought she heard disappointment in his voice.

  “I need the ring, Rieker. Larkin found me at the station. Clara is really sick. Coughing up blood and sleeping all the time. The ring is the only chance I have of getting her back.” Tiki tightened her grip on the stone. “I have to save Clara.”

  “And you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” Rieker hadn’t moved, yet Tiki felt his anger reaching across the room toward her. Her own anger surged in return.

  “How was I supposed to know if you’d really show up?” Tiki snapped. “Larkin told me that you were planning to escape together. She told me how long the two of you had been trying to get the ring.” She gripped the ring tighter. “I couldn’t take the chance that she wouldn’t return Clara.”

  “Just don’t know who to trust, do you?”

  Tiki bit back a gasp as Larkin entered the room.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  “AH, Larkin, another surprise,” Rieker said. “What a busy night we’re having.” He straightened up and moved a step closer to Tiki. “But since we’re all here, I guess this might be the perfect time to discuss the negotiations.”

  “Wills.” Larkin ran her fingers through her hair, which hung like a wild mass of tangled summer grass around her shoulders. She preened before him, a petulant expression upon her face. “There’s no need to pretend anymore.” Her feet were bare again, and the green dress she wore revealed shoulders browned by the sun.

  Larkin was devastatingly beautiful. Tiki glanced at Rieker out of the corner of her eye and could see him staring at the other girl as if mesmerized. A stab of jealousy ripped through her chest.

  “I’ve told her enough that she understands the situation now.” Larkin moved closer to Rieker. “I don’t know why you took so long to tell her I was staying here”—she glared at Tiki—“taking care of that brat.”

  For a second, the room reduced to a pinpoint of light before rushing back into view at an alarming rate. Tiki swayed on her feet as Larkin confirmed her suspicions. Rieker reached out a hand to steady her, but Tiki jerked away.

  “Wills, we’ve done it,” Larkin said. Her eyes caressed Rieker’s face as if she yearned to touch him. Tiki looked from one to the other and couldn’t help but think what a beautiful couple they made. “After all these years, we have the ring of the truce. We can demand our freedom now.” She glided forward. “Let me have it.”

  “Actually, Larkin”—Rieker held up his hand to stop her movement—“Tiki has the ring at the moment.” His eyes shifted to Tiki. “I believe she intends to trade you for something you have of hers.”

  Tiki looked at Rieker. “Is it true?” she whispered. Her voice cracked. “You and Larkin … together?”

  “Yes, it’s true,” Larkin snapped. “I’ve told you before, you dirty little thief. Wills and I are fulfilling our destiny.” She smiled at Rieker. “And now, finally, we hold the key to our freedom.”

  Tiki knew she should be concentrating on trading the ring for Clara, but her heart felt as if it were breaking. Rieker’s eyes were dark and unfathomable, his face like a wall, unyielding.

  “You’re running away together now that you have the ring?” Her voice faltered, and to her embarrassment she could feel hot tears brimming in her eyes. But for some perverse reason she needed to hear Rieker tell her himself.

  “Ah.” Rieker nodded with sudden understanding. “So that’s why you attempted to steal the ring.”

  “Is it true?” Her words came out in a choked whisper. “You care for her?” Tiki barely took a breath. “How could you? After what she’s done to your family?”

  “First things first, Tiki.” He turned to face the faerie. “Where’s the little girl, Larkin?”

  “Wills, we don’t have to be bothered with this,” Larkin simpered. “We don’t need to return the girl. The ring is ours. Let’s take it from her and leave now. Before Donegal finds that it’s free from the oath of the royals.”

  “First, return Clara. You don’t need her anymore.” They stood facing each other, Rieker positioned between Tiki and Larkin. “Where is she?”

  Larkin’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to help her?” She glared at Tiki as she snapped her teeth. “What do you see in her, anyway?” The faerie looked her up and down with a disgusted expression. “She’s nothing but a dirty guttersnipe.”

  “You struck a bargain, Larkin. The ring for the child.” Rieker’s voice was low and steady. Tiki didn’t miss that he spoke with an ease that suggested an undeniable familiarity. “You can’t keep her.”

  “Oh, all right,” Larkin snapped. “I’m sick of carting the brat around with me, anyway.”

  “Is she alive?” Rieker asked.

  “Yes.” Larkin spat the word out in a tone so deadly, it could have been laced with poison.

  “Then bring her here.”

  “No.” Larkin reached toward Rieker, her hands out in supplication. “What does it matter? We’ve done it, Wills. We have the ring. Just take it from her or I will. We’re free to do as we please now.” Larkin took a step toward Rieker. “But I have to hurry. Donegal has others watching, waiting for an opportunity to capture me. They won’t hesitate to attack if they find me.”

  “No.” Rieker shook his head. “Bring the girl.”

  “What do you mean, no?” Larkin’s voice took on a peculiarly distorted petulance.

  Tiki stood frozen, sensing a battle of wills that raged between the two of them that she didn’t quite understand.

  The faerie’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a traitor, aren’t you, William? Just like the rest of them.” She took a menacing step toward him. “It’s all been a lie.”

  “A lie of your own creation.” Rieker returned her glare.

  Larkin’s eyes shone with anger as she advanced toward Rieker. “You agreed.”

  “I agreed to help find the ring. I never agreed to give it to you. By the blood of Eridanus that runs in my veins, I swear to protect the truce held within the ring,” Rieker said. “That’s the only promise I’ve made. Where is Clara, Larkin?”

  Tiki tightened her fingers around the ring, warmth pulsing in the palm of her hand. What had he just said?

  The blond faerie turned toward Tiki. “Give me that ring, you Óinseach.”

  In a lightning-fast move, Tiki flipped the ring across the backs of her fingers and made it disappear. “No, not until you give me Clara back.”

  In a blink, the faerie’s face distorted into a vicious snarl. Larkin was just a blur as she crossed the room and locked her fingers around Tiki’s wrist in a viselike grip.

  “You don’t know…” As the faerie’s fingers made contact with Tiki’s birthmark, her wrist burned as though she had dipped her skin into the flame of a candle. From a great distance, Tiki heard Rieker’s roar of rage and saw him r
each for Larkin, but like heat rising from a flat rock in the heart of summer, Rieker and the room shimmered out of view.

  * * *

  THE force of Larkin’s attack pushed Tiki backward and she landed in a field of grass. Before she could process where she was, her survival instinct kicked in. She slammed the flat of her hand into Larkin’s nose as hard as she could. Iridescent blood spurted from Larkin’s face, splattering Tiki. An overwhelming scent of thyme filled the air.

  Larkin loosened her grip enough for Tiki to jerk herself free from the other girl’s grasp, and she rolled hard to the right, reaching for the blade hidden in the back of her trousers. Tiki yanked the iron dagger free as she spun to a crouch and pointed the knife at the blond faerie. Larkin was already on her feet, facing her.

  “I’ll stick this blade through your heart if you touch me again.” Tiki’s breath came out in heaving gasps. Her eyes darted from the faerie and back again, trying to take in their surroundings. They stood in a grassy meadow blanketed in the dying light of the day, as if the sun had just set.

  In the distance, huge stones stood upright, dotting the rolling hills, and she could see several large, grass-covered mounds. To her left, a single large hawthorn tree stood in a meadow, its limbs outstretched toward the sky like giant arms.

  Larkin straightened up and lifted her hem to wipe her bleeding nose, keeping a safe distance between herself and Tiki. “Why did you bring us here?”

  “Me?” Tiki couldn’t hide her surprise. She glanced around. The ragged silhouette of a line of trees meandered away from her toward the horizon. A few lights twinkled here and there, as if fireflies were just beginning to blink with the onset of darkness. One small part of the sky was still painted with the fading orange glow of sunset. In the distance, the eerie, piercingly sweet notes of a flute floated on the air, pulling at her. “Where are we?”

  Larkin’s voice dripped with malice. “We’re in the Otherworld, of course.”

  Tiki’s stomach clenched at the girl’s words. Her eyes scanned the area, taking in her surroundings with disbelief. The air was warm and scented of wet dirt and fresh-mown grass, as if the skies had just poured rain and released the perfume of nature.