The Torn Wing (30 page)

Rieker held the door to the study then closed it softly behind Tiki. “I’ve been doing some research,” he said, as he sat down next to her, more animated than she’d seen him in a long time. “I’ve found a stone in London that might be what we’re looking for.”

Tiki slumped back against her chair. “Oh, you’re not on about that, still, are you?” She fingered the carved chess pieces on the table between them, frozen in an unfinished game. “That story about the Stone of Tara must have been something Larkin fabricated just to challenge Donegal. There are more important things to worry about.”

Rieker’s brows pulled down in a perplexed frown. “If that were the case, what would it gain her? And what more important things?”

Tiki shrugged. “Who knows with Larkin? I fear I was simply the diversion she needed to get those men from the Macanna into the hall and ask for her wing back. She doesn’t want Donegal to hang it on his wall like a trophy.” She waved her hand. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t believe the stone is real. I don’t believe anything Larkin says.” She raised her eyebrows. “A stone roar? Ridiculous.”

“I see,” Rieker said slowly. “What are the ‘more important’ things you mentioned?”

Tiki recounted Toots’ story of Dain taking him to see the dead horses and the message the young boy had returned with.

Rieker’s eyes narrowed as he listened. “That is exactly why we can’t stop looking for the Stone. It’s the one piece that might give us a bit of power, instead of always being at the mercy of the fey.” He stabbed his finger in her direction. “You are part of this, Tiki, whether you want to be or not. If you weren’t—Larkin wouldn’t be wasting her time on you.”

He leaned across the table. “Listen to what I found out. There’s a stone in the City that is considered to be the ‘heart’ of London. A place where deals are sworn and oaths are forged.” He raised his eyebrows. “There’s a myth associated with it that says if the stone is safe, so then is London.” Rieker reached for one of the chess pieces and slid the white Queen across the board to an open square in front of Tiki. “That sounds like a stone that might be important to both mortals and the fey.”

Tiki sat up. Rieker was right. If there was some way to turn the tables, to not always be waiting for Larkin to reveal another piece of the puzzle—then perhaps they could protect themselves—protect the ones they loved. “Does the stone have a name?”

“They call it the London Stone. Apparently there are references to the stone that date back to the Middle Ages.”

“You don’t really think—”

Rieker’s voice turned eager. “What can it hurt to go lay a hand on the thing and see what happens?”

“Where is it?”

“Just over on Cannon Street. Set in the wall of a church there.” Rieker stood up and grabbed her hands. “We can be there in less than half an hour.”

SNOWFLAKES DRIFTED DOWN from a leaden sky as their carriage made its way across the City.

“Snow in April,” Rieker said with disgust. “That tells you something’s not right with the world.”

Tiki pressed her nose against the window. “I love the snow. It’s like magic falling from the heavens.” She cast a cautious glance at Rieker. “Maybe it’s a sign?”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a grin that somehow looked slightly wicked. “We’ll soon find out, won’t we?”

The carriage slowed and Rieker was on his feet and out the door before the wheels stopped rolling. He offered a hand to Tiki, helping her down the narrow steps. The church had a brick façade with an arched entry, tucked between two other buildings. A bell tower stretched skyward to the right of the entry and the bells began to toll as they neared, their clappers clanging against the copper sides.

“St. Swithin,” Tiki read the nameplate on the side of the building. “I’ve never heard of this church before.”

“Not unexpected, given there’s a church on every bloody corner in London,” Rieker said.

Snowflakes landed on Tiki’s hair and eyelashes then melted away. She lifted her face to the sky but Rieker grasped her hand and led her up the three stone steps into the entry.

“Come along,” he said, clearly trying to hide his excitement. “We can enjoy the snow after you touch the stone.” He tugged on the great door, holding it open for Tiki to pass through.

A quiet hush greeted them as they entered the church. It was almost like going back in time to a place that had not been overrun with humanity and poverty.

Tiki tilted her head back to stare up at the ornate arches of the nave. “Do you know where the stone is?”

“Right there.” Rieker’s voice was quiet as though to match the silence of the church.

Tiki turned to where Rieker was pointing. Sure enough, sitting at waist-height in an alcove built into the wall of the church, sat a large chunk of stone. It was off-white in color, almost yellow, and somewhat square in shape with rounded edges. There was nothing remarkable about its appearance.

Rieker led Tiki up close to the rock.

“Can I help you?” A priest, with a round, friendly face, approached them.

“Yes, hello.” Rieker motioned toward the alcove. “We were wondering—is this the London Stone?”

“Oh, you’ve heard of it, then?” the older man asked. He wore simple robes of grey with a brown mantle that reached to his knees. His brown hair was cropped short. He rested a hand on the stone’s cratered surface. “It’s quite famous, you know, a landmark here in Cannon Street for centuries. They say it was part of an altar that Brutus of Troy used when he founded London back in 1070 BC.”

Tiki inhaled sharply. “Really?”

The priest smiled. “It’s also said to be the stone from which King Arthur drew his famous sword.”

“Excalibur?” Rieker sounded equally impressed.

The priest nodded as he patted the rock like a pet. “One of the many legends associated with the stone.” He clasped his hands in front of himself and stepped back. “Feel free to stay as long as you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Tiki and Rieker said at the same time. The priest nodded and went back the way he’d come, his shoes silent on the stone floors.

“Could this be what Larkin was looking for?” Tiki stared at the stone in fascination. “It certainly sounds important, though it doesn’t look like much. And—” she turned and gazed around the church— “it’s not really hidden.”

“Only one way to find out.” Rieker tipped his head toward the rock. “Touch it and see what happens.”

Tiki looked from Rieker to the stone. “You can’t believe that hunk of rock is going to make a sound?”

“I didn’t believe in faeries a few years ago,” Rieker said.

“All right, all right.” Tiki took a step closer and held her hand out. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart was suddenly racing like a steam engine. Far above their head the church bells rang out for the quarter hour and Tiki let out a squeal and yanked her hand back. “It startled me,” she said defensively.

“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

“L
eo,” 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

“W
e 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.