The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4)

by Kiki Hamilton

  “Where is everyone?” Tiki whispered.

  “They’ve gone—either to fight or simply to survive. Those who are still alive are probably hiding.” Rieker’s voice was thick with unspoken emotion. “It’s clearly not safe here any longer. Let’s gather what we came for and leave.”

  Many of the rooms looked like they’d been ransacked. Tiki’s heart began to pound harder and harder, until finally, she raced down the last hallway to Larkin’s hidden chambers. Her footsteps echoed in the empty space until it sounded like she was being followed—or chased. After all this—would the Cup be gone?

  They slipped behind the wall of greenery and entered Larkin’s chambers. Tiki caught her breath. The room was untouched—it still looked just like the drawing room in Grosvenor Square. For a split-second she imagined she heard Toots laughing and Clara’s playful shriek as she ran after him. Fiona’s soft voice seemed to be murmuring nearby and she could have sworn she heard Shamus snore.

  “William—” Tiki swayed and reached out for him.

  “Steady, Teek.” He caught her arm and pulled her close. “Stay focused.” His gaze slowly swung around the room. “Let’s gather what we came for and return to the Wychwood. Clara needs us.”

  THEY BROUGHT THE Cup of Plenty and the Faerie Queen’s mirror back to the stonecutter’s cottage. On impulse, Tiki took the ring from the chain around her neck and held it in her fingers so they could see the fire in its depths. But rather than the flickering flame that had warmed the ring before, now there was barely a glow and the metal had grown cool.

  “What does it mean?” Tiki asked, afraid to take her eyes from the ring for fear the flames would extinguish entirely.

  “It means Donegal is getting stronger. We’re running out of time.”

  THREE HOURS PASSED they waited in the stonecutter’s cottage and the shadows within the Wychwood grew ever longer. Tiki finally couldn’t stand it. She jumped to her feet.

  “I’m going up there. I can glamour myself just as well as Larkin.”

  “Teek, I know how you feel, but do you think it’s wise?”

  “I can’t sit here—knowing little Clara is being held by that monster—” Tiki’s voice broke. “I’ve got to do something.” With a wave of her hand the fresh scent of clover filled the room as she transformed herself. A heartbeat later she held out long clawed fingers, then carefully felt a face where fang-like teeth jutted from her lower jaw and a strongly hooked nose stretched past her lips. On her head she wore a red cap that appeared to have been dipped in blood.

  “God save the Queen.” Rieker gasped. “What have you done?”

  “William, don’t you recognize me?” Tiki smiled, causing Rieker to flinch away from her. “I’m Ailléna’s long-lost sister.”

  THEY ARRIVED AT the stone bench in the garden near the homeless camp—Tiki glamoured to look similar to the little Redcap they’d come to know, and Rieker glamoured as a slightly bigger, male version.

  “I feel like I’m trapped in the skin of a dwarf,” Rieker whispered as he stretched his arms and did several deep-knee bends. “I keep trying to stretch it—” he flexed his arms, his shoulders hunched— “but I think that just makes it feel tighter…”

  “A Redcap is half the size of grown man—by your standards, you are a dwarf,” Tiki replied. She swung her arms, trying to ignore her own sense of constraint. “Come along.” She grabbed his over-sized hand and pulled him behind her. “We’ll get used to it as we walk.”

  “I doubt that,” Rieker grumbled, but he followed behind her.

  They took the winding trail that led through the gardens. Lush foliage had changed to brambles and thorns when the UnSeelies had claimed the Palace of Mirrors for winter. It wasn’t long before even the brambles turned to scrabbly bushes and eventually gave way to the barren rock upon which the homeless camp existed. Unlike before, when the Tor had been covered with a teeming mass of homeless faeries, now there were less than twenty—and of those, most looked too weak to walk.

  “Ailléna’s not here,” Tiki cried in dismay as she surveyed the group.

  “I forgot—Donegal has forced even the homeless into this war,” Rieker said, his lips pressed together in distaste. “They are scattered throughout the Wychwood and on both the Plain of Starlight and the Plain of Sunlight. She could be anywhere.”

  “Then why didn’t Larkin return to the stonecutter’s cottage and tell us?” Tiki said. “It would only have taken her a few moments to realize that Ailléna was gone.”

  Rieker shook his head. “I can’t say, Teek.”

  Frustration welled in Tiki’s throat and she fought the urge to cry. Instead, she gritted her teeth and inhaled sharply through her long beak of a nose.

  “We don’t need Ailléna or Larkin to enter the Palace. We know the Palace as well as either of them.” She turned and pulled Rieker back the way they had just come. “We’ll go find Clara on our own.”

  Chapter Forty

  Disguised in their glamours as Redcaps, Tiki and Rieker were barely given a second glance as they entered the Palace of Mirrors through the side door near the kitchens.

  “Where are the platters I sent you to fetch?” A harried looking faerie, holding what looked like the blade of a battle axe, yelled as they strode through the halls empty-handed.

  “We’re on our way to get them,” Tiki called, walking faster.

  “You’re headed the wrong way—” he jabbed the cleaver in the air— “the kitchen’s that way!”

  “Be right back,” Tiki called as they rushed around a corner. She had only visited the kitchens a few times during her reign in the summer months and the rabbit warren of halls were a confusing maze. She glanced through one doorway to see several servants standing over hot fires stirring large pots. One glanced up as they passed and Tiki had a fleeting sense of familiarity. Was the girl someone she’d seen in the Great Hall during the summer months?

  She didn’t have time to ponder the question as they passed another door that opened onto a room full of bottle after bottle of wine. Light, dark, red, white, green and blue—the bottles were every size, shape and color—as were their contents. A tall man with a long thin neck, reminding Tiki of a giraffe she’d once seen at the London zoo, stood counting the bottles and making notes on a long piece of parchment. He frowned in their direction and Tiki immediately backed out of the room.

  “Let’s head toward the noise,” Rieker said as they continued down the hallways. “That’s got to be coming from the Great Hall.”

  “Maybe we should go in the opposite direction. It’s doubtful Donegal has Clara in the Great Hall.” She pointed to a group of faeries clustered at one end of the hallway. “Let’s see what we can find out from some of the servants.”

  The faeries were a mix of creatures: two old weathered gnomes, a black-haired pooka along with a bogey, a banshee ad a hag who stood on the fringe. The group barely glanced at them as they approached.

  “Heard Donegal’s got another prisoner,” Tiki said, making her voice scratchy like Ailléna’s. “Do you know where he’s keeping this one?”

  “We’re all prisoners,” a bogey croaked. The goblin had the face of a dog and the body of a man. “Can’t tell one from the other.” Several of them laughed.

  The hag cast a dark look at Tiki. A hideous creature, her face was wrinkled with sunken eyes and a nose and chin jutting in equal proportion. “Donegal doesn’t reveal the location of his prisons—everyone knows that.”

  Tiki returned her pointed stare. “I heard he took a child this time—a mortal girl.”

  “What would he do with one of those?” a banshee shrieked. “They’re useless.”

  “Unless he wants to bargain with her,” the pooka said slyly.

  Tiki looked around. “I heard he has her in the Palace. Has anyone seen her?

  “Why do you want to know, Redcap? It’s none of your business,” the hag said.

  Tiki grinned, emphasizing the fang-tipped bottom teeth that jutted above her upper jaw in a
gruesome fashion, and snapped her teeth. “Because she’s valuable. Donegal’s not the only one who wants her.”

  “Valuable,” the bogey croaked. “Who’d be mad enough to steal from Donegal? Is it Larkin?” There was a rush of hushed conversation among the group.

  “It doesn’t matter who it is,” Tiki replied. “That’s my business and not yours, but if you help me find her, I’ll pay you.”

  “With what? Blood?” The hag let out a dry laugh. “That’s the only currency a Redcap deals in.”

  “I’ll pay you with whatever you want,” Tiki interrupted. “But only if I get the girl unharmed.” She looked around. “It’s too bad the Jester isn’t here—he would know where to find her.”

  The banshee shrieked, rattling Tiki’s nerves even further. “Donegal banned the Jester from Court.”

  “The Jester is dead,” one of the gnomes said, his sizeable brow twisting in a frown. “Donegal fed him to the hounds.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Tiki snapped.

  “He did.” The gnome jerked his head up and down. “On the full moon.”

  “Did you see this execution?” Rieker spoke for the first time.

  “No, but we heard those beasts howling half the night.” The gnome shivered. “It’s somethin’ awful to listen to—but not as bad as the screams of their prey.”

  Tiki took a step back. The gnomes didn’t know what they were talking about. She’d seen the Jester since the full moon. They’d saved him—even if she didn’t know exactly where he was now. “Spread the word—I want to know where the girl is. If you can’t find me, wait for me by—” she thought fast, trying to remember a spot where her reflection wouldn’t be seen in the magical mirrors that lined the hall— “by the fountain at the far end of the Great Hall.”

  The UnSeelie creatures dispersed in different directions, the pooka slinking off down the shadowy hallway, the gnomes headed into the Great Hall waddling on their short, bowed legs and the banshee shrieking as she went back towards the kitchens. The hag was the last to leave, her pointed face reminding Tiki of the Elder Dryad.

  “Since when does a Redcap gives orders in the Palace? Somethin’ doesn’t smell right, goblin.” She pointed her long nose into the air and inhaled sharply. “Not right, a’tall.”

  “Then don’t help us,” Tiki snapped. “And don’t get paid.”

  “You must have a death wish if you think you can steal from Donegal.”

  Tiki fought the urge to growl at the faerie. “Donegal must have a death wish if he thinks he can steal the girl.”

  The hag let out a disbelieving laugh. “Fight the Winter King over a mortal child? You’ve gone daft, Redcap. Best run back to the border before Donegal feeds you to the hounds.”

  IT WAS ONLY a matter of moments before Tiki and Rieker were alone in the hallway.

  “You don’t think Donegal caught Fial again, do you?” Tiki asked.

  “Pray that he didn’t. Let’s check the hall and see what’s happening there,” Rieker said. “If Fial and Dain are here I’d like to know where they are. Maybe they’ve learned something.”

  “And let’s not forget Larkin,” Tiki whispered. “I wonder what she’s up to?”

  They stopped under one of the arched entrances to the Great Hall, careful to stay far away from the reflection of the magical mirrors that would reveal their true selves beneath their glamours. Tiki’s gaze went immediately to the golden Dragon Throne but the seat was vacant. Donegal was nowhere to be seen.

  “That’s odd,” she said. “He’s not here.”

  “I’d bet he’s in the palace somewhere,” Rieker replied. “Plotting.”

  As before, the hall was full of UnSeelie fey dancing and drinking—cavorting as life was nothing more than a party. Out-of-tune instruments screeched and groaned creating a cacophony of noise that the group seemed to mistake for music.

  “If he didn’t bring her here—where would he take her?”

  Rieker shook his head. “It’s impossible to say. Is there anyone out there who looks like the Jester or Dain?”

  Tiki imagined the colorful clothes and makeup of the Jester, his floppy three-point hat had jingled with each prancing step he took. Where was he? Given the secrets Fial knew, would he be foolish enough—or brave enough—to return to the Palace of Mirrors and face Donegal? And where was Dain? Larkin seemed sure he was back in the palace but disguised as whom? He was skilled at living undercover within the UnSeelie world—he could be any of the myriad creatures before them.

  Tiki let out a quiet groan of frustration. “No one looks familiar. We have no clues—how are we possibly going to find her?”

  “Like we just did,” Rieker said with a determined tone. “We’re going to ask the fey who are here one by one and see if anyone knows anything—see if anyone will sell the information.”

  “Do you think we should disguise ourselves as something other than Redcaps? The hag had a point—Redcaps are only interested in blood—”

  “—mortal blood at that,” Rieker interrupted. “All the more reason why we would want the girl. The problem I see is that they all want something different—if we tell them we can give them each what they want, then it becomes obvious that we aren’t what we seem. Already the hag is questioning who we are.”

  “I know.” A shadow flickered behind one of the stained glass windows on the ceiling that looked like paintings. Tiki clutched Rieker’s wrist with her clawed hand as she stared at the spot. “Look.”

  Rieker tilted his head and followed her gaze. “What do you see?”

  “I saw a shadow move—I think there’s someone in the Jester’s rooms.”

  They were halfway across the room when a blare of trumpets cut across the noise of the Great Hall drawing everyone’s attention. A contingent of soldiers entered with bladed weapons glistening from their shoulders and waists. Some even had rows of knives strapped in X’s across their chests. Donegal entered behind the wave of armored men, his silky black robe rippling like dark waves of water.

  “YOUR ATTENTION!” he shouted. “I BRING YOU THE PRIZE THAT WILL LURE THE SEELIE QUEEN TO HER DEATH!”

  A buzz of excited whispers exploded among the crowd as heads leaned close and fingers pointed to something behind the Winter King.

  “AS THE SEELIES HAVE TAKEN FROM ME—I HAVE TAKEN FROM THEM.”

  “What is it?” Tiki asked, standing on tiptoes to try to see over the crowd.

  “I’m so bloody short in this glamour, I can’t tell,” Rieker said, “but with an entrance like that, it can’t be good.”

  “THIS MORTAL CHILD IS THE SEELIE QUEEN’S WEAKNESS.”

  “Oh no,” Tiki cried softly.

  Donegal turned and pointed toward the open doors through which he had just entered. Two servants rolled in a platform that supported a giant hook. Hanging from the hook was what looked like an enormous golden net weighted down by a captive held within its ropes. The net trap swung gently with the movement of the rolling device and small fingers could be seen gripping the golden strands from the inside. In one of the larger gaps above the fingers Clara’s small frightened face peered out.

  “IF ANYONE IS LOOKING FOR THE MORTAL CHILD, OR ASKING WHERE TO FIND HER—I WANT THEM ARRESTED IMMEDIATELY.” Donegal turned in a circle, his voice echoing throughout the silent hall. “YOU MUST ALL BE ALERT. THIS IS OUR OPPORTUNITY—THE SEELIE QUEEN WILL BE AMONG US SOON!”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Just as you predicted.” The Jester was expressionless as he stood in the room above the Great Hall and watched Donegal make his entrance. Fial’s dark hair was combed back from a face unadorned with artifice or makeup. Though wrinkles creased the skin around his eyes, the architecture of his face was similar to that of Dain and William. The bruises were fading from the beating he had taken while being held by Donegal’s guards, but the angle of his nose appeared to be permanently skewed.

  Larkin stood next to him, her fingers threaded through his. Her blond hair hung in a simple plait down her back,
her exquisite features relaxed and unguarded for once.

  “A well-planted suggestion by Fachtna convinced him the child was the bait he needed to draw the Seelie Queen to him.”

  “And so the endgame begins.”

  “Yes.”

  “How long have we worked for this moment?”

  “Too long, my love,” Larkin said. A long sigh passed her lips. “I fear I have grown tired of the lies—weary of the battle. The lives of our children seem too great a sacrifice now.”

  “Indeed. But if not ours—then whose? There was no one else to stop the evil. And had we not lied—had we not partnered with Finn and Eridanus—Tara and our children would have been butchered long ago.”

  Larkin wiped a single tear from her cheek. “True,” she whispered. “But it’s been so very much to give—” her voice broke. “Perhaps we should have run instead—”

  The Jester turned to face her. “Breanna, this is not like you. Where is the arrogance I love so much? We must look forward not backward, my dear.” He ran a gentle hand along her cheek. “We chose this path because it was what we had to do—and look what we have achieved: we are alive—our children are still alive. Our sons are smart, honest and loyal. They are together again and committed to each other. William will marry Tara, the true-born Seelie queen—the daughter of your best friend, Adasara. They love each other and together they will take the Seelie Court into the future in the way we have fought for and dreamed of—without prejudice or fear. We are accomplishing everything we planned so long ago.”

  “If they survive, Fial. If we survive.” Larkin’s face was bleak. “Addie is dead, along with Finn and Eridanus. And so many more. Are we really winning?”

  “Bree—never forget the reason we started the lies so long ago—it was what we had to do. Finn and Eridanus knew of the evil that was coming. They planned with their underlords for decades in anticipation of what the future would bring. When Finn fell in love with Adasara he asked for our help. In my heart I believe he knew what the future held for all of us. You and Adasara began the charade of being sisters for exactly this purpose—so no one would ever suspect Larkin was the diversion—the one who pretended she wanted to be queen—until Tara was old enough and ready to find the Four Treasures—ready to claim the Seelie throne.” Emotion was thick in his voice. “Think where we would be if we hadn’t fought back—we would all be dead and Donegal would rule Faerie.”