The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4)

by Kiki Hamilton

  “They are ready,” she whispered.

  “As are we.” They sat in a circle, safe for the moment within the depths of the rock mountain. “It is fitting that we will end the Winter King’s reign on December 21st—the night of the Winter Solstice.” Fial’s lips twisted in a grim smile. “On the night when he should be at his most powerful he will cease to exist.” He nodded in satisfaction. “Here is my plan.”

  Tiki and the others listened carefully. When Fial finished, Tiki nodded. “I agree. And here is my plan.”

  THEY HAD LITTLE more than an hour to wait for the designated time to strike. Though Tiki was afraid to have Clara out of her sight for that time, Fial reassured her.

  “She has more value to him alive than dead,” the older faerie said. “Nothing will happen to her.”

  “I was thinking about Larkin—” Tiki started but Fial held up his hand.

  “We cannot speak of her yet. When we have won this battle there will be time for all the talking we need to do. For now, let’s save our strength.”

  Rieker and Dain exchanged glances but neither spoke. Tiki sat between the two of them, holding tight to both their hands. She bowed her head and thought of all that had occurred since she’d stolen the ring. Everything that had happened had pointed her to this moment. She would not fail her family or the Seelie Court. She would not fail Larkin.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  It was an hour from dawn when they retraced their steps up the stone stairway to the room off the grand hallway. They had agreed not to wear glamours but to attack Donegal in their true form—as representatives of the Seelie Court and themselves—for all to see and follow if they chose.

  Fial had not changed his appearance after they’d made the decision and his likeness to his brother was apparent, now that Tiki knew the truth. She remained silent though, leaving it to the Jester to choose when, where and with whom he would share his secrets.

  They all wore black, giving themselves the advantage of being harder to see in the dim shadows that enveloped the Palace during the winter months. Tiki’s hair was pulled behind her head and braided down her back, emphasizing the curve of her cheekbones.

  “It’s good to see your emerald eyes again,” Rieker said softly, running his thumb across her cheek. “There was a time when I wondered if I ever would.”

  Tiki put her hand over his and leaned into his caress. “It won’t be long now and we’ll be done with this forever. And then we will make a home with our family and live in peace.”

  Rieker nodded but his eyes were shadowed. “I look forward to that day, my queen.”

  He had refused to leave Tiki’s side so it had been agreed that Dain would take Clara to safety.

  The celebration of Winter Solstice was winding down, though stragglers still danced and drank in the Great Hall. The musicians had dwindled and now only a fiddle, a reedy flute and a panpipe played on. The notes combined in an eerie, mournful sound that grated on Tiki’s already frazzled nerves.

  “How will you get Clara down?” she asked, rubbing her hands together to fight off the chill that pervaded the hall.

  Fial spoke with calm assurance. “I will create a bird with a scissor-like beak that will cut through the rope holding the net. We will have to be prepared to catch her when she falls. Donegal’s guards will attack immediately so we must have our soldiers ready.”

  Tiki nodded. “Then we should start in the Night Garden.”

  FIAL LED THE way through a hidden door and they found themselves in the garden on the side of the building.

  “What is it you need to do, Tiki?” Dain asked, peering at her curiously.

  “It is time to call the Four Treasures.”

  She raised her hands above her head. “I speak to you, Air, as the breath and wind of all things living, to heed my command: breathe a warm wind through the Wychwood and all along the mountaintop before me until the ice has melted and the sun shines bright upon the Tor.”

  A warm gust of wind eddied around Tiki, lifting her braid from her back, before blowing over the side garden, melting the ice as it went. The wind swirled around the Tor, ice turning to water in its wake and the black clouds that had hovered for so long were pushed toward the dark horizon of the Plain of Starlight.

  Dain gasped, watching wide-eyed as sun broke through the departing clouds. Immediately the melody of the Night Garden could be heard as the blossoms were released from their shell of ice.

  “Witness the Four Treasures—our Faerie Queen can command the elements.” Though Fial’s face looked weary, he smiled in satisfaction and nodded. “I knew you could do it, sweet Tara—as you were meant to do.”

  Tiki pulled the Faerie Flag from inside her bodice where she’d placed it as a last bit of insurance when she’d returned from the Plain of Sunlight. She slowly unfurled the fragile material and held it above her head where the wind made the silk sing.

  “I speak to you, Earth, as the element that provides strength and life to all manner of plants and animals that live on and within you: I command that you bring to me an army.”

  The wind grew in strength, tossing the bushes back and forth. The trees that lined the Tor bent against the onslaught and the gust blew a thousand leaves from their branches until the sky was filled with foliage. As each one touched the ground a soldier stood in its place—armed and ready to fight. In as long as it took the leaves to blow to the ground—there stood one thousand soldiers. They spoke as one: “We are yours to command.”

  Tiki raised her voice so all could hear. “I am the queen here. I want anyone who tries to stop me or my people to be removed.”

  Her heart was ice in her chest as she led the way around to the front of the Palace. She would not waver. She would not flinch. Clara was coming home with her—no matter what.

  At the sight of Tiki the Macanna generals emerged from the trees where they had been waiting for her signal, armed and ready to fight. Tiki allowed herself a grim smile of satisfaction at their shocked expressions when they spied the vast army that followed her. The ground shook as they approached the front of the Palace and the UnSeelie guards who stood in position along the entrance to the palace stared in horror at the approaching throng. One guard darted into the palace and disappeared while cries for reinforcement echoed across the Tor. Like a flight of birds, UnSeelie soldiers boiled from the depths of the Wychwood, their weapons glinting in the half light.

  A contingent of Macanna flanked Tiki as she marched up the steps to the palace. The UnSeelie guards barely moved to bar her way before they were struck down by the Seelie army.

  Beset by an unshakable sense of urgency Tiki ran through the columns into the Great Hall only to skid to a stop. The room was filled with UnSeelie soldiers, armed as heavily as the Seelie guard. Donegal sat on the golden Dragon Throne, a taunting smile on his face. And most horrifying—positioned directly beneath the golden net that was holding Clara was a roaring fire.

  “Tiki!”

  Tiki’s gaze riveted upwards at Clara’s shrill cry. The fear in her voice made the hair on Tiki’s arms stand up.

  “Tiki—save me!”

  Donegal’s evil laughter filled the room. “Now what will you do, little queen?”

  “Teek—I’ve called and called Larkin and she hasn’t come! Help me!”

  Tiki lifted her arms. “I speak to you, Water, as the element that sustains and purifies—cleanse this room of fire.” She flung her hands at the fire that crackled beneath Clara and a torrent of water flowed from her fingertips until it looked like a river filled the room, squelching the flames. A loud hiss filled the room as not only the fire, but all of the torches evaporated into a gust of smoke. Out of the billowing cloud a large black bird with a silver beak flapped giant wings, arching slowly up to perch on the top of the golden net.

  “What is that?” Donegal cried before he searched the crowd. “FIAL!” he roared. “WHERE ARE YOU? COME FACE ME LIKE A MAN!”

  The soldiers on both sides stood frozen, watching the mom
ent play out, unsure whether to attack or not.

  The great bird turned and cocked its head so its silver eye could look at the Winter King. When it moved, its beak sliced through the rope that held the golden net suspended and Clara plummeted toward the floor. Its perch gone, the bird flapped its great wings and dove straight for Donegal.

  A cry went up from the crowd.

  Tiki, Rieker and Dain all darted forward at the same time, their arms outstretched to catch the falling child.

  Donegal jumped from the throne with a shriek and ran from the attacking bird.

  “STOP THAT THING!” He roared as he shoved soldiers out of his way. “KILL IT!”

  It was the battle cry for which the soldiers on both sides had been waiting and the world exploded in a flurry of battle axes, swords, whips, chains and knives.

  In the space of a heartbeat, Rieker cut through several strands of the net, creating a hole big enough for Tiki to reach in and pull Clara free. She hugged the little girl close to her heart and breathed in her scent. “You’re safe now,” she whispered in Clara’s ear. “I promise I’ll keep you safe now.”

  A group of Macanna formed a tight circle around Tiki, battling any UnSeelie who dared to approach as she hugged Clara and reassured the little girl.

  “Hold tight,” Tiki whispered in Clara’s ear. She looked at Rieker and Dain. “Change of plan,” she said calmly. “I can’t have her anywhere near this world right now. I’ll be right back.” Before they could reply Tiki closed her eyes and transported to the farm in Richmond.

  They arrived inside the kitchen, behind where Mrs. Bosworth stood at the sink peeling potatoes.

  “Mrs. B!” Clara cried.

  The older woman jumped at the noise and let out a scream as she whirled around and saw Tiki standing there with Clara. The housekeeper dropped both her potato and her peeler onto the floor with a clatter.

  “Who might you be?” she shrieked. “And what are you doin’ with my little darlin’?” The expression on her face went from shocked to determined. She began to march toward Tiki, not recognizing her true self—without the glamour she’d grown up wearing in London. “Give her to me this instant—we’ve been worried sick—”

  Tiki kissed Clara on the forehead. “Go to Mrs. B. I’ll be back soon.”

  Clara clung to Tiki. “You always say that. Teek—please stay.”

  “I can’t right now. But I promise—I’ll be back with all of you soon. Now be a good girl and go.”

  “Who are you?” Mrs. Bosworth demanded, pulling Clara from Tiki’s arms. “Why have you got Clara?”

  “I am a friend,” Tiki said softly. “Take good care of her—don’t let any of them out of your sight until Tiki and William return. And tell Shamus to keep the iron close.” Tiki blew a kiss at Clara and disappeared.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  “Clara.” It was a whisper.

  The little girl turned from where she sat playing with Doggie in front of the fire. It had been almost four hours since Tiki had dropped her off. She and the others had finished supper and were now gathered in the drawing room. Toots and Fiona were playing checkers on a table in the corner. Mrs. Bosworth sat nearby, intent on her stitching, while both Shamus and Mr. Bosworth snored from their chairs. Clara smiled at the familiar woman who stood in the hallway, a finger held to her lips indicating silence. She beckoned with her hand.

  Clara hopped up and hurried in her direction, her stocking feet silent on the wood floors.

  “Hush, not a word now,” the visitor whispered. She slid her long slender fingers into Clara’s little hand and led her down the hallway away from the others.

  “What are you doing here?” Clara whispered, unafraid. The woman knelt down and opened her arms. Clara didn’t hesitate before throwing her arms around the visitor’s neck and hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you, Larkin.” She leaned back and ran her little hand along the woman’s cheek. “I was afraid you were hurt.”

  “No, I’m fine, my dear, just as you are. But Larkin has gone—you may call me Breanna from now on. I’m going to stay here with you and make sure everything is all right until Tiki and William can come home and take care of you.” Breanna gently pressed her lips to Clara’s forehead. “Never be afraid again. You’ll be safe with me, my little darling.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  When she returned to the Palace of Mirrors, Tiki arrived standing on the Dragon Throne. The room was chaos—men and women fighting and yelling, weapons clashing, shrieks filling the air. Smoke hung thick above the melee making it difficult to see. An UnSeelie soldier stabbed one of the Seelie fighters with his bayonet straight through the heart in front of Tiki. Instead of falling to the floor in a puddle of blood, the wounded man disappeared and in his place a leaf with a hole through its center drifted lazily to the floor.

  “Teek!” Rieker darted through the crowd toward her, his sword drawn to fend off any attacks. Dain followed close behind, protecting his back. “Teek—get out of here!”

  “Where’s Donegal?”

  Rieker pointed to the far end of the Great Hall where the Winter King was being buzzed by three large black birds. Donegal threw a fireball at them but the flames were met with a splash of water and turned to black smoke before they came close to the birds.

  “SHOOT THEM!” The Winter King screamed, turning for the door.

  Tiki jumped down. “We need to help Fial get him outside.” She swerved through the masses toward one of the arches that led from the room. Once through the passageway, she sprinted down the grand hallway, Rieker and Dain close on her heels. She rounded the corner just in time to see Donegal run out through the huge double entry doors.

  Tiki, Rieker and Dain raced out the doors behind Donegal. The Winter King reached the stairs that led down to the Night Garden and came to an abrupt halt to survey the scene before him. Fial sat on a magnificent black horse whose eyes were the color of fire. The beast snorted and smoke curled from his nostrils, pawing the ground as if anxious to run. Seelie guards stretched as far as the eye could see, cutting off any entry or escape from the palace. Behind the first wave of soldiers, another layer stood with their backs to the inner circle to guard against an attack from their flanks. Above the Tor, the sun shone in golden brilliance.

  Fial flicked his wrist and a thin lead-laced braid of leather wrapped itself around Donegal’s neck.

  “Checkmate, dear brother,” Fial said in a cold voice.

  Behind Donegal, the giant doors to the Palace slammed shut. More Seelie soldiers moved to stand in front of the barred doors.

  “Once again you’re fighting for the wrong side, Fial,” Donegal spat. “You’ll never learn, will you, Fool?”

  “Your words mean nothing to me.” Fial shrugged. “Your life means nothing to me.” He blew into his cupped hands and seven sleek black birds flew free, their dagger-like beaks flashing silver in the sunlight. Fial’s gaze narrowed. “But rest assured, I’ll show you the same mercy you gave Larkin and so many others.”

  Donegal’s gaze rose to follow the flight of the birds that were now circling above the group. “Your magic doesn’t scare me,” he snarled. “Those birds will dissolve in a puff of smoke at the slightest touch.” He tried to pull the whip away from his neck but the leather wouldn’t give. In frustration, he wrapped his hands around the whip and stomped down the stairs toward Fial, shooting a ball of fire at his brother. “Get out of my way.”

  Fial deflected the fireball with a flick of his wrist then yanked on the whip, forcing Donegal to his knees before him.

  Tiki called out. “Elder Dryad, heed my call. Today I fulfill my promise to you. Find me now, my friend.”

  The UnSeelie King grabbed the noose around his neck, trying to slide his fingers beneath the leather to loosen its grip. He stared at Tiki. “You,” he growled. “I should have known.”

  The wind grew stronger, gusting the leaves from the ground and swirling them in little whirlwinds. As if on command, the first bird dove—straight for the
Winter King. Donegal swung around trying to defend himself against the attack, but the bird’s dagger-like beak sank into his shoulder before it dissolved in a puff of smoke. Green blood burst from the wound and ran down the UnSeelie King’s arm.

  Fial snapped the whip free from his brother’s neck as the other six birds wheeled around to position themselves to dive. A blast of wind shrieked through the trees sounding eerily similar to a woman’s laughter. Donegal clutched his shoulder and threw another fireball at the Jester, but Fial easily deflected the attack. The second bird dove, followed by the third, then the fourth.

  The UnSeelie king turned and ran. He looked over his shoulder at the plummeting birds, unaware of the tree that suddenly stood in his path with a face visible in its dark bark. Its branches were outstretched like the arms of a lover. As he stepped near, the branches snaked around his body and yanked him toward the tree.

  His scream was one of pure terror. He struggled against the limbs that bound him, kicking and screaming, but in slow motion, the branches retracted back into the trunk of the tree, pulling the Winter King along. As he disappeared into the woody bark, a woman with hair the shimmering color of molten steel stepped away from the tree.

  She glanced down and felt her arms and legs before she threw her head back and screamed with laughter. “I am freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” The woman whipped around to face Tiki and bowed her head. “Our bargain has been met, Seelie Queen. Consider me a friend for life.”

  Tiki nodded at her. “A friend for life.”

  The witch laughed—a glorious, gleeful howl of laughter. “I will be back for you, sisters,” she called out, then snapped her fingers over her head and was gone.

  A cry of terror erupted from the tree where Donegal had disappeared. Tiki gazed back at the black eyes that stared from the trunk of the tree, making no effort to hide her loathing. She raised her hands.