“Just do it, Teek.” Rieker stepped closer. The peals of the bells faded away and they were enveloped in quiet again.
Tiki nodded. She took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing both hands squarely on top of the stone.
Silence.
The stone didn’t roar.
She stepped back and wiped her hands, her cheeks suddenly warm as a mix of emotions rushed through her: relief, disappointment, embarrassment. “I knew it was ridiculous to think a stone would make a noise.”
Rieker’s shoulders slumped. “I thought this might be it.” He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “We’ll just have to keep looking.”
Chapter Forty-Two
“Leo,” Arthur looked up from his desk where he sat writing some notes. “It’s good to see you up and about. Are you feeling better?”
Leo nodded as he slowly walked across the room and sank into a chair opposite his brother. He wore a dressing robe over his pajamas, a white bandage still taped to his neck. “I think the bleeding has stopped.”
“Excellent news. You’ll need to take it easy for a few more weeks to rebuild your strength.” Arthur’s forehead was creased with worry.
“What is it?” Leo asked. “What’s happened?”
Arthur’s shoulders sagged. He shoved the pen he was holding into the inkwell. “Another attack—the night of the party.”
“Here?” Leo asked in surprise.
“No. In the early hours of the morning. The police are suggesting he followed her from the palace.”
Leo sat up and gripped the arms of his chair. “Who was it?”
Arthur shook his head, his features twisted with regret. “Charles Bagley’s daughter, Marie Claire.”
“The girl?” Leo’s jaw dropped. “Is she—”
“Regrettably so.”
Leo’s words were a whisper as he slumped back in his chair. “Tell me he didn’t take her heart.”
A long sigh escaped Arthur’s lips as he rubbed his forehead with both hands. Though muffled, his reply was still audible. “He did.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“We need to talk.” Tiki stood in the doorway of Rieker’s study.
He paused in mid-step from where he was pacing in front of the cold fireplace. His sleeves were rolled above his elbows and his dark hair was mussed as though he’d run his hand through the strands over and over.
Rieker pulled his chair back, the legs scraping against the wooden floor and sank into the seat. “You’ve made some decisions, I take it?”
Tiki nodded. She moved into the room and sank into a high-backed leather chair across from him. “I can’t stand by and do nothing. If I need to go to the Otherworld to help Larkin stop this madman—that’s what I’ll do.”
Rieker nodded, his smoky eyes were dark with shadows. “It’s a big decision.”
“I’ve heard about that girl from Arthur’s party. Mrs. Bosworth was talking about it.” A twinge of guilt clutched at Tiki’s chest as she remembered thinking the girl to be spoiled. “She was my age. It could’ve been Fiona.” She took a deep breath. “The next one could be you.”
Rieker’s voice was sober. “We’ve certainly seen how dangerous some of the fey can be. Donegal seems to be the worst of the lot. Are you sure you want to take the risk?”
“I have to go. I couldn’t live with myself if I stood by and did nothing while others died.” A quiet hush filled the room, as if they were the only two people in the world. “If I go, do you think I can make a difference? Larkin seemed to think the Macanna needed to see me. Do you think I could just show myself to them and return?”
Rieker took her hand in his long fingers. “Nothing is ever that simple with the fey, Teek.” He took a deep breath. “But I agree, we can’t stand by and wait for the next murder to happen.” He was silent for a long moment. “I’ve a small manor house west of London. The Bosworth’s could take the children there.”
Tiki hesitated. “Is it where Larkin found you before? Where your family lived?” The grisly tale of Larkin appearing at Rieker’s estate and asking him to help her the day before his entire family was drowned crossing the English channel was forever etched into her memory.
“No. It’s in a town called Richmond. I keep some horses there. A stable. I don’t think Larkin knows of it.”
Tiki didn’t ask why a town had the same last name as Rieker. At times, the magnitude of his wealth was overwhelming and seemed a chasm between them.
“You think they’ll be safe there?”
Rieker nodded. “The Bosworth’s can go with them. They might enjoy getting out of the City.” His eyes were bright and Tiki wondered if it was excitement she saw gleaming there.
MOVING THE OTHERS to the manor house in Richmond was surprisingly easy. Toots never spoke of the terrible sight of those dead horses. Instead, he spent more time than ever in the coach house with Geoffrey, helping to care for Rieker’s horses— almost as though he could protect them.
The idea of having horses to ride and fields to play in was almost more than Toots, Fiona, Johnny and Clara could imagine. Even Shamus came along. Mr. Binder had agreed to allow him some time off and he planned to work on continuing to build furniture for Rieker’s new school there.
They’d told the Bosworth’s that she and Rieker were going to Paris for a few weeks to check on a family estate there. For Tiki, it was a huge relief to have Shamus and Fiona know where she and Rieker were really going. If they didn’t make it back, Shamus and the Bosworth’s would see to it that the children were cared for.
Tiki fought tears as they hugged everyone goodbye. She could see the worry in Fi’s eyes.
“Don’t stay long, Tiki. Clara and Toots need you here.” The changes in the fifteen year-old girl in the last few months were astonishing. Since Johnny had started living with them she was more scrupulous about washing and dressing. Her wavy brown hair shone as did her clear skin. Her face, which had been painfully thin, was now angled in an attractive way, her high cheekbones accenting the sparkle in her eyes.
“I promise, I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Tiki whispered as she hugged Fiona, now like a sister to her.
“Don’t you worry, Miss Tiki,” Johnny stood behind Fiona, leaning on an old wooden cane. “I’ll keep an eye on things.” His hair was still a wild tangle of waves but three good meals a day and a warm place to sleep at night were making a difference in his appearance. His face was less gaunt and Tiki didn’t get the same sense that he was planning some sort of dodgy activity.
Shamus had said his goodbyes earlier, disliking any public display of emotion. He’d held Tiki’s hand for a long moment, almost as if he could hold her there. “Stay close to Rieker, Tiki,” he’d said in his slow, steady way. “He needs you as much as you need him.”
It was a strange statement, coming from Shamus, who rarely gave advice. But little escaped Shamus’ watchful eye and his words warmed Tiki’s heart.
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I promise, Shamus.”
Saying goodbye to Toots was easier than she’d expected. He was so excited to be in the country with real live horses that he could hardly contain himself.
“Teek, did you see the bay with the black mane? Mr. Bosworth said she was just my size an’ that I could ride her tomorrow. Can you believe it?” He jumped up and down as if he was about to burst at the seams with enthusiasm.
“I’m sure you and the bay will become fast friends. When we get back you can show us everything you’ve learned.”
Saying goodbye to Clara was a different matter. The little girl’s lower lip quivered as she patted Tiki’s shoulder and smoothed her hair. “But I don’t understand why you have to go. Why can’t I come with you, Teek?” Her young voice was higher than normal and thick with emotion. A large tear escaped her lower lid and rolled down her pale cheek to plop onto Tiki’s hand. “I could help you. I know I could.”
Tiki bit her lip to hold back her own tears. She would give anything not to
leave Clara. She was so little still—she needed Tiki to be home with her. But Tiki knew she had to go, or they would forever live with one eye open at night, fearful of who or what might be looking for them.
“You help Fiona with her stitching and keep an eye on Toots while he rides. We’ll be back before you know it.” Tiki pressed her lips together to stop their trembling. “And Mrs. Bosworth always needs help in the kitchen.” Her voice cracked and her eyes filled with tears. She motioned to Doggie, the stuffed animal that Clara had clutched in her arms. “You can take Doggie for a walk every day. She’ll like living in the country.”
Another tear broke free and streamed down Clara’s face. “Okay Tiki.” She rubbed her hand on Tiki’s shoulder as if to console the older girl. “I’ll be good while yer gone.”
TIKI SOBBED ON the way back to London. Rieker sat next to her in the carriage, his arm wrapped protectively around her shaking shoulders.
“I know it’s for the best,” she choked as she rested her head against his chest, “but I just don’t want to leave them alone, unprotected.”
“That’s why we’re going, Teek. Because we can’t protect them the way things are.”
Tiki blew her nose. “You’re right. I won’t cry again.”
THEIR BREATH CAME out in clouds of white smoke as Tiki and Rieker walked the few blocks down Upper Brook Street and across Park Lane over to Hyde Park. The grounds were practically empty in the chilly weather, with even the most stalwart vendors seeking warmer doorways and locations to hawk their wares as twilight descended upon the City.
A jittery nervousness filled Tiki as they walked. She was doing the right thing—she was sure of it—but she was afraid, as well.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Rieker said, walking close enough to Tiki that their shoulders brushed. His gloved hand reached for hers.
She clung gratefully to Rieker’s fingers. “I’m wondering if we’ll find Larkin. About what will happen—if we can stop Donegal—stop the liche. About all of it.” They turned into The Ring and followed the well-worn path beneath towering trees laden with a sparkly layer of snow, reminding Tiki of frosting. “If only I knew whether to believe Larkin or not. I would know whether we’ve made the right decision to get involved.”
“You don’t have a choice.” A voice interrupted. “You’ve been involved.”
Tiki whirled around to find Larkin standing behind her. The faerie was dressed in a slim black dress, her blond hair hidden under a black head wrap. A smoky veil covered the lower half of her face. Black gloves covered her long fingers making her appear to be encased in shadows. She didn’t twirl or dance. There was no mocking note to her voice or in her smile. Instead, she was grim and focused. Only her blue-green eyes were familiar.
Tiki wasn’t surprised to see the faerie. It was the reason they’d come to this place.
“How do the Macanna know about me?” Tiki asked. The idea that others—people she didn’t know—believed she was Finn’s daughter with a claim to the Seelie throne was hard to believe, not to mention unsettling.
“They’ve heard rumors about you for a long time,” Larkin said. “They’ve been hoping for your return.”
“Tell us about Finn,” Rieker said.
“Finn was the last gatekeeper. A powerful and dangerous young man—to both the Seelie’s and the UnSeelie’s.”
“You knew him well, then?”
“Finn left the Seelie court centuries ago. He didn’t agree with his father so he left Ireland and started his own troop of faeries called the Macanna—a court of renegades who claimed Finn as high king.” Larkin’s voice softened. “I remember those times well. Crafty and clever, those lads were. The Macanna are a wild bunch and brave to a fault. Some called them a band of misfits, but others swore they could travel on the wings of the wind.” She sighed with something that almost sounded like longing. “It was rumored that Finn inherited his mother’s ability to see the future. That and the fact he was marked as a true high king and could control the gates to the Otherworld made him very powerful.”
Larkin continued. “Donegal feared he would return and try to take control of the UnSeelie court. He was afraid that Finn wanted to reunite the courts as they had been in the very beginning.” Larkin ran her fingers along a low-hanging branch, the snow falling in a white cloud to the ground. “Even the Seelie king, Muiratach, was afraid of him. Afraid of the war he might start.”
Rieker cleared his throat. “But if he was so powerful, how did he die?”
“It’s a sordid tale, that,” Larkin replied. “Finn was murdered by the five sons of Urmac. But it’s whispered it was Muiratach, his own uncle, who contracted with Urmac to kill him.”
Tiki gasped. “His uncle?”
Larkin gave Tiki an arrogant half-smile. “And therein lies the best part of the story. Though all believed he was mortally wounded in that battle, Finn didn’t actually die. His great steed, Lioch, carried him to safety where my sister nursed him back to health in secrecy.” She leaned forward and whispered, “It’s one of the greatest secrets of the Faerie world.”
Tiki’s heart jumped into her throat. “He still lives?”
Larkin heaved a regretful sigh. “I fear not. Finn was instrumental in helping Eridanus overthrow Muiratach and reclaim the throne. They shared a similar belief that faeries and mortals needed to work together to save both our worlds. But he was too ill for many years to assume any kind of command. It was all he could do to stay alive. Unbeknownst to him, a shard of an iron arrowhead had become embedded in his lung during the battle and was slowly poisoning him. It took years before a healer realized the problem but by then, Finn was so ill he couldn’t recover.”
“So he helped put Eridanus on the throne instead?” Rieker voice echoed with surprise. “And no one knew?”
“A very few knew the truth, of course, but not many. They didn’t dare take the chance.” Larkin adjusted the veil that covered her head. “You have to remember, faeries are often immortal. He thought he had forever.”
Snowflakes swirled in the air around them.
“Together they had a grander plan for the future of Faerie— until he died.” The faerie tilted her head to one side, eyes bright and sharp. “Legend says that even now he’s not really dead, but sleeps below London, waiting to be called back to battle in the time of Faerie’s greatest need.”
“So the Macanna wait for a sign that Finn lives on?” Rieker frowned, the skin creasing between his eyes.
“It has been a bloody battle these last few years and little has gone the way of the Seelie court.” Larkin’s gaze settled on Tiki. “Proof that Finn lives on would be a powerful motivator for those who are asked to risk their lives for the sake of the court.”
They stood frozen, dark shapes in a world of white.
Finally Tiki spoke. “I can’t stand by and watch as Donegal continues to kill people. What would I have to do?”
“I need you to come to where the Macanna gather now. They hide and plan for the day, very soon, to take back what Donegal has stolen. I just need you to show yourself, show your mark—give them something to fight for.”
For the first time ever, Tiki saw a side of Larkin where the girl seemed to care about something other than herself. Or was it all part of her quest for the Seelie throne?
“All right, I’ll go.”
“I’ll go too.” Rieker stepped close to Tiki. “We’re to stay together at all times, is that understood?”
Larkin considered Rieker through half-slitted lids. “William, be careful or you’ll smother your butterfly before she’s grown her wings.”
“Don’t riddle me, Larkin. Just vow Tiki and I will be together in the Otherworld. I need to be able to protect her.”
The corners of Larkin’s lips quivered as though she was fighting not to smile. “What makes you think you have the power to protect her? Perhaps it should be the other way around?”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” Tiki said coldly, “the stone didn’t r
oar, Larkin. What makes you think you’re right about my heritage?” The mocking grin slid off Larkin’s face. “Enough talking. We need to go now.”
She reached for Tiki’s wrist and took a firm hold with her long fingers. Once again, Tiki was surprised by how soft Larkin’s skin felt—like the velvet smooth texture of a rose petal. “Grab hold of each other.”
Rieker threaded his fingers through Tiki’s and gave her hand a squeeze. Where Larkin’s hand was cool, Rieker’s hand radiated warmth. Tiki clung gratefully to his fingers.
“Ready?”
Tiki nodded. A soft breeze caressed her skin and the trees of Hyde Park shimmered out of sight.
Tiki blinked. She was standing in a sunlit meadow before a grass-covered mound with an entry made of stones. White flowers dotted the grasses of the meadow and nearby she could hear the sounds of a river as it wound its way through the trees. The music of songbirds filled the air along with a sweet, succulent fragrance. It was as if they’d stepped into the middle of summer.
“Welcome to the Plain of Sunlight—home of the Seelie Court,” Larkin said. She pointed in the distance. “Wydryn Tor rises toward that horizon. The UnSeelie’s Plain of Starlight is beyond that.”
In the far distance rising against the sky Tiki saw the sharp rocky pinnacle of Wydryn Tor. From the peak, the sides dropped away as sheer cliffs before hills angled into dense forest. They were too far for her to make out the palace that she knew stood on the top of the mountain.
“Look around,” Larkin said as she dropped their wrists and shifted like a shadow toward the opening in the mound. “Memorize this spot—because for now this is the safest place we’ve got. Make sure you can visualize it—you may need to find your way back on your own at some point.”
The Torn Wing Page 22
