The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4)

by Kiki Hamilton

  Brilliant lights exploded in front of the Fial’s eyes followed by a curtain of red pain. He flew backwards and hit the wall before everything went black.

  Behind the guard, the small white dove flew out the open door.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rieker used Tiki’s jacket to wipe the blood from the floor and they hid the coat in a large pot near one of the columns that lined the hallway before they hurried toward the High Chamber. Tiki’s face fell as they rounded the corner and she spotted two soldiers standing in front of the entrance.

  “Guards,” she whispered as they backed up and hid behind one of the giant fluted columns. “I forgot. They’ve been there every time I’ve attended a meeting.”

  Rieker leaned around the column to assess the situation. “What’s in that room that needs to be guarded?” he mused. “It’s nothing but a woodland.” He jerked back sharply when one of the guards glanced down the hallway in their direction.

  “I don’t know, but we won’t get in there until we figure out a way to get rid of those guards.”

  THE FESTIVITIES WERE in full swing in the Great Hall as Tiki and Rieker entered. No one spared them a second glance. They’d decided there would be a better time to try and gain access to the High Chamber, perhaps when Larkin or Dain could help them distract the guards.

  “The dove is pure white—it should be easy to spot,” Tiki said softly as she scanned the ceiling. “I wonder if Donegal would recognize it as the Jester’s magic?”

  “I doubt the Jester conjured anything white for Donegal. Everything about his world seems to be dark and evil. I wonder where Fachtna might be?” Rieker mused, his gaze moving from one face to another.

  “I was watching her when the dove flew by. I think she saw it too.” Tiki searched the paintings that filled the ceiling, looking for a flash of white. She paused at the image of the Jack-in-Irons. From this distance the stained-glass looked like another painting, its dark colors and somber content not revealing the secret room above the window. Tiki followed the line of paintings and wondered if there were other secrets hidden in that ceiling not revealed to the casual glance.

  A flash of white flickered in the corner of her eye and she jerked her head to the left just in time to see a snow white dove collide with a column then disintegrate in a puff of smoke.

  “Oh no,” she cried. “It’s gone.”

  “If the Jester sent one, he’ll send another.”

  “I hope so. I don’t know how else we’re going to locate him.”

  Rieker steered Tiki to the opposite end of the room from where Donegal presided. “There’s Dain.” Rieker’s brother was drinking wine and chatting with a strange creature that looked to be a faun.

  Dain glanced in their direction then raised his cup to the half man, half goat before walking to join them. “I’ve been looking for you two. Anything?” He glanced hopefully from one to the other.

  “No. You?”

  “No. I’ve found nothing and no one even willing to talk about the Jester. Everyone is afraid to speak of him.”

  “We did see something that we think might be a clue.”

  What’s that?”

  Tiki told him about the bird.

  “Yes, I’ve seen the Jester create those doves before during the summer months. If he’s sending a message like that he must believe Larkin will come for him.”

  “That’s a good point,” Rieker said. “Who else would dare attempt to rescue one of Donegal’s prisoners?”

  Dain glanced over his shoulder toward the Dragon Throne. “It’s risky to stay in the Great Hall where the mirrors may reveal we are wearing glamours. Let’s go outside and see if there is anything to be found there. Perhaps they’ve converted the zagishire?”

  Tiki frowned and was about to give a sharp answer when she realized Dain was serious. Only Donegal would think to change a hospital to a prison. “We also thought we might check the High Chamber but it’s being guarded.”

  “Come.” Dain headed for the door. “Let’s discuss this outside.”

  IT WAS A relief to leave the cloying black smoke, the nauseating smells and the chaotic music of the Great Hall even though the weather outside had deteriorated further and rain fell in a cloud-like mist that seemed to cover everything with droplets of water. The dark clouds that had settled on the Tor were even denser now, making the world feel small and claustrophobic.

  They walked through the line of soldiers who guarded the Palace and followed the path away from the grand building toward the small thatch-roofed structure that served as a hospital for the sick and dying. It was at the zagishire that Johnny had spent most of his time being cared for by Fiona after his attack by the liche.

  “Where do you suppose Fachtna could be?” Rieker asked again. “I’m beginning to—”

  “Worry?” A familiar voice spoke from behind them. Larkin in her glamour as Fachtna followed them on the trail. With her skin glamoured dark and woody, and her hair the color of a dead leaf, she blended so completely with her surroundings she was almost invisible. “How sweet of you. And here I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” She used one of her long branch-like fingers to stroke Rieker’s cheek but he jerked away with a scowl.

  “I’ve been to see Fintan McPhee,” she said in a low voice as she joined their group.

  “My uncle? Why have you gone to see him?” Dain asked.

  “Long ago Fial saved Fintan’s son from being drowned by a river hag and Fintan promised he would do anything to help him. The favor Fial asked was to swear Kieran was his brother—thereby giving Fial a way to legitimize this alter-ego and to make it that much more difficult for Donegal to track him down. The two men have remained close and I thought if anyone might have heard from Fial, or had news of his imprisonment, it would be Fintan.”

  “But?” Dain seemed to already know what Larkin was going to tell them. “What did he say?”

  Larkin shook her head. “He’s heard nothing.”

  They arrived at the zagishire, but one glance told them the building was vacant. No light shone from any window, no smoke billowed from a chimney to indicate a fire burned within and the door hung ajar, swinging back and forth with the wind.

  “I saw a white dove in the Great Hall—I’m sure of it—” Tiki said as they gathered in a circle— “before it dissolved into ashes. Only the Jester can create birds like that—isn’t that true?”

  The dark hollows that were Fachtna’s eyes turned toward Tiki. “I saw it too. If the bird is of Fial’s creation then it must have a way to get out of wherever he is being held. Those birds can’t go through solid walls or doors—they would destroy themselves.”

  “So he must be alive and he must be here,” Dain said hopefully. “But where could they have him hidden?”

  Rieker spoke up. “Tiki and I thought perhaps Donegal might be holding him in the High Chamber.”

  Larkin shook her head, the rust colored strands shifting with the movement. “The Chamber only gives the illusion of being endless. Fial is far too clever to be hidden in a place like that. He would escape before they shut the door.”

  Tiki wanted to stamp her foot. “But where, then?”

  “Donegal knows the Jester too well. He has put him in a prison of some sort to contain him and any threat he might pose.”

  “But where could the Jester be?” Tiki finally asked. “You and Dain know the Palace better than any of us. Where could they possibly hide him?”

  Larkin crossed her branch-like arms. “I don’t know. Donegal could have the entrance to the prison glamoured. That would make it difficult to spot.”

  Tiki nodded. “The doors that open off the hallway outside the Great Hall are glamoured. They look like they open onto the Night Garden but they don’t. Or at least some of them don’t.”

  The faerie swung around to stare at Tiki with her hollowed-out eyes. “And what rooms did you find?”

  Like usual with Larkin, Tiki sensed there was more to the question and wondered what informa
tion the faerie truly sought.

  “We found the Jester’s spying post above the Great Hall,” Rieker said, “but only one entrance and exit. Could he be hidden within that room?”

  A frown creased Larkin’s weathered face. “I’m surprised you were able to find that room. Fial had concealed those entrances with powerful magic. You should have been diverted to the Night Garden.”

  “Well, we weren’t,” Rieker said. “Perhaps there is an advantage to being the true Seelie Queen.”

  Larkin gave a derisive snort. “And being Fial’s son couldn’t hurt either.”

  Rieker remained silent.

  “What about the other doors in that hallway?” Dain asked. “Where do they lead?”

  Larkin flicked her wrist as if to dismiss his question. “A variety of places. None are designed to hide a prisoner.”

  Tension filled the air as they sought answers that eluded them.

  “We’ve less than five days to the full moon,” Larkin said. “Donegal is planning to use Fial’s death as the catalyst to start the final push to claim the Seelie Court. We’ve got to stop him.”

  Dain crossed his arms in frustration. “Where could he be? He’s valuable – where would you hide something of value here?”

  Tiki caught her breath. The leprechauns had talked of hiding something of value. “I know where he is.”

  Larkin, Rieker and Dain all swiveled to look at her.

  “You do?” Dain said doubtfully.

  “Teek, what is it?” Rieker said.

  “Spare us the drama, guttersnipe and just tell us,” Larkin muttered.

  Tiki looked at Dain. “Didn’t you say the Tor used to have a waterfall? That the mountain is riddled with caves?”

  Dain nodded. “Yes, but—”

  “Bury it deep in the earth where it can’t be seen,” Tiki quoted. “No one will find it that way.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rieker asked.

  “I think you’re right,” Larkin nodded, her rough voice tinged with excitement. “That makes perfect sense.”

  Tiki smiled. “Donegal has hidden the Jester in a cave beneath the Palace of Mirrors.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “He’s got to be close enough that one of his doves can fly into the Great Hall.” Larkin began to pace, a trait that somehow made Fachtna look familiar to Tiki. “Think, Dain. Where could Donegal have access to a cave beneath the palace?”

  “From the Night Garden?” Dain didn’t sound convinced of his own suggestion.

  “If the stories we’ve heard are true, then Donegal arrested him in the Great Hall—” Rieker started.

  “And had Sullivan and Cruinn take him somewhere,” Larkin finished. “They couldn’t have taken him too far without making a huge scene. Sullivan and Cruinn are part of Donegal’s inner circle—they probably know the palace as well as the Winter King does.”

  Dain snapped his fingers. “As did Bearach.”

  Larkin stopped pacing. “Bearach? What has he got to do with it? He’s dead.”

  “Yes, but he was my…keeper after Donegal arrested me for being a spy. I’ve tried to block my memories of that time but Bearach was the one who beat me—and took pleasure in doing it.” Dain’s voice was low, his eyes dark with painful memories. “He liked to threaten me too. He often spoke of a ‘dungeon’—a place where he would leave me to starve to death alone in the dark.”

  Tiki put her arm on Dain’s rough sleeve. “I’m so sorry. That must have been awful.”

  Rieker gripped his brother’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “And?” Larkin snapped. “What of this dungeon? Did he say where it was? Did you see it?”

  Dain slid his hand over Tiki’s, his fingers surprisingly warm and gave her a black-toothed smile that looked more like a leer with his glamour. “I didn’t see it but I think I know where it is.”

  “Where?” The question echoed in the wintery air.

  “The Queen’s rooms.”

  “The Royal chambers?” Larkin asked.

  “Bearach made several comments that led me to believe this place he was threatening me with was close to where Donegal stayed in the palace. He said only the Winter King would know where I was and Bearach assured me over and over that he would never save me.”

  Larkin began to pace again. “But where in the royal chambers could there be access to a cave? Do you suppose the entrance is hidden somehow?” She was mumbling to herself more than talking. “Perhaps behind a bookcase or wall panel? If that’s the case we may never find it….”

  “Remember,” Rieker said, “it has to have an opening for the doves to get through.”

  “Good point.” Larkin turned and began to pace the other way. “How big of an opening…”

  Tiki closed her eyes and envisioned the opulent royal chambers where the ruler of Faerie lived during their reign. There were four chambers: the sitting room, a place for the ruler to rest in privacy; the drawing room, where they met with their followers; and two rooms in the bedchambers. Where and how anyone could have created or found access to a cave with an opening into one of the room wasn’t obvious. She mentally started at the grand entrance to the chambers and walked through each of the rooms…her eyes flew open.

  “The fireplace in the sitting room. It’s tall enough for a man to walk into without bowing his head. There must be access through the fireplace.”

  “That is brilliant, Teek,” Rieker said, “and makes perfect sense. It’s not a place where an opening would be obvious.”

  Larkin nodded. “It’s worth checking.”

  FACHTNA MARCHED TOWARD the Royal Chambers as if she owned the palace. Her three servants hurried behind, shoulders hunched and eyes lowered as if they feared she might turn and strike. The guard in front of the bedchamber doors straightened when he saw the witch and her retinue approach. He lowered his speared staff to block their way, his impassive face giving away no emotion. His voice was like gravel crunching underfoot.

  “There is no entry allowed here.” His gaze shifted from Fachtna to measure the three young men behind her when Larkin struck. Her branch-like fingers were just a blur as she stabbed at the guard’s throat. Blood spurted from his neck as his eyes bulged in surprise. A terrible gurgling erupted as he tried to breathe, blood-tinged foam gathering at the corners of his mouth as he sagged to the floor.

  Dain jumped around the twitching body and opened the door, peering around the room.

  “Clear in here,” he whispered as he grabbed the guard by the shoulders. Rieker clutched the dead man’s feet and together they hauled him through the doorway. Larkin shoved Tiki into the room, then used the hem of her long dress to wipe the floor clean. She glanced over her shoulder to check the hallway, then slipped into the Royal Chambers and quietly locked the door.

  “Put him over there—” she pointed to a corner— “and bring his spear. I’ll check the other rooms and see if there are any more.” They spread out and quickly searched the four chambers but they were vacant. Larkin held a finger to her mouth as they gathered in front of the fireplace in the sitting room. She spoke in a whisper. “If this is the entrance to the prison, you can be sure that Donegal will have Fial guarded. It’s probably a stairwell that leads to a cell—one way in and one way out.” Her gaze went around the circle. “Which means there’s only one way to save him.”

  A cold chill ran down Tiki’s arms as Dain and Rieker nodded, their expressions equally determined.

  Larkin held up the razor-sharp blade she had used to kill the guard. “What other weapons do we have?” One by one they pulled knives and daggers from hidden locations inside their garments. Dain lifted a whip with one hand.

  “It will have to do,” she said. “I’m a fair hand at throwing knives. Dain, be at the ready with your whip. You two—” she pointed at Tiki and Rieker— “Prepare yourselves. We can’t have a moment of hesitation.”

  One by one they nodded.

  “Good.” She turned toward the fireplace. “Let’s see wh
at we can find.”

  Dain lifted the metal grate that held the skeletal remains of burnt wood and quietly moved it to one side as Larkin entered the massive fireplace. She ran her fingers along the soot-blackened walls, feeling, as well as looking, for an opening.

  It only took a few moments to find the hole, tucked back behind the front column of stones, invisible to someone standing in the room. Larkin raised her hand for silence as she disappeared through the rocky opening.

  Tiki bit the corner of her lip as she struggled to keep her breathing even. She tightened her grip on the knife as if that might still the shaking of her fingers. The blackness of the tunnel was complete and she slid one hand along the rough wall to keep her balance as she blindly followed Larkin, Dain and Rieker down the crude stone steps.

  They cautiously wound their way downward. As they went lower into the mountain of rock a feeble strand of watery light from some point below became visible—enough to pierce the darkness that smothered them.

  They went down and down, the air becoming cooler with each step. Someone’s foot kicked a loose pebble and the sound of the stone ricocheting against the rock seemed to echo like cannon fire. Larkin stopped abruptly and Tiki held her breath, straining to hear any movement from below.

  After what felt like an eternity Larkin began her slow descent again.

  The guard came boiling around a bend in the narrow passageway toward them like a wraith from a graveyard. Tiki screamed as the huge man lunged toward Larkin, the longsword in his hand pointed straight at her heart.

  Larkin spun away as the blade ripped through her garments. The guard jerked his arm back in preparation to strike again. Rieker and Dain both dove toward the man. The guard’s neck suddenly jerked to one side, the gruesome sound of snapping bone audible in the dark hallway. The noise was mixed with a guttural cry of pain—the last sound the man would ever make. The angle of the man’s neck as he slumped to the ground made it evident he was no longer a threat.