The Torn Wing (5 page)

Rieker shifted his position to stand between Tiki and Larkin. “That’s no concern of yours.”

Larkin’s eyes narrowed with a calculating look. “Though I do miss the little girl at times. What was her name? Clara? Tell me, does she ask after me?”

Red-hot anger surged through Tiki, replacing her fear. “No, she doesn’t,” she snapped. She glared at the faerie. “Thankfully, the nightmares of when you stole her have stopped.” It was a lie, Clara had never had nightmares that Tiki knew of, but she couldn’t stand the idea Larkin might have some twisted idea she mattered to the child. “Why would you come back to London? I heard you were wounded when you escaped—that you had to tear your own wing off to get away.”

Larkin’s poisonous laugh filled the room. “Do you
pity
me now?” She spat the words out as though she couldn’t bear the taste of them on her tongue. “Guttersnipe, you can’t pity what you don’t understand.”

“I don’t pity you.” Tiki’s voice was raw with emotion. “You deserve every ounce of what you’ve got.”

“
Isabelle
,” Rieker spoke up, interrupting their conversation. “Why are you here?”

“William, where are your manners? Aren’t you going to invite me in to sit down?” A small bag swung from Isabelle’s wrist and she carried a fan in one hand that she snapped open with an irritated flick of her wrist. She moved slowly though, as if she were in pain.

“No, because you’re not staying,” Rieker replied, the muscles in his jaw flexing.

Larkin frowned. “Considering what we’ve been through together, it seems you could be a bit more charitable.” Her eyes raked over Tiki. “Perhaps it’s the unsavory influences in your life.”

“You would have a clear understanding of unsavory, wouldn’t you?” Tiki shot back, her anger bubbling to the surface again. Something flickered in Larkin’s eyes and for a second, Tiki got the impression the faerie was laughing at her, as if she enjoyed Tiki’s irritation.

“Larkin.” Rieker held his hand up. “Not another insult.” He was a head taller than the faerie and took a threatening step toward the other girl. Larkin, rather than retreating, leaned closer and ran a finger down his lapel, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Oh William, don’t get your knickers in a knot. Let a girl have her fun.”

Rieker ground his teeth and took a step back so she could no longer touch him. “Why did you come back to London? What are you after this time?”

Larkin contemplated them through narrowed eyes. “You both think you’re so clever, don’t you? Saved the ring and now you’ll live happily ever after.” Her lip curled like a feral dog. “Well, happily ever after doesn’t exist in my world and soon it’s not going to exist in yours either. I’ve come to warn you.”

Rieker raised his eyebrows. “Warn us about what?”

“Donegal is on the move and if he’s not stopped he will take everything that is precious from you.” Larkin snapped the fan closed and tapped it against her fingers. “Believe me when I say there are worse things than dying.”

“Now that you’ve warned us,” Rieker said in a dry voice, “What is it that you want from us?”

The faerie blinked and then her lips twisted in a beguiling smile. It was as if the warmth of the sun suddenly flowed into the room. “Why, I want you to help me.”

A chill ran up Tiki’s arms. Her voice came out in a ragged whisper of disbelief. “
Help
you?”

“You don’t seem to understand.” Larkin snapped her teeth at Tiki as if she wished she could bite her. “I won’t be able to stop him this time.” Lightning fast, her mood shifted again, her tone becoming cajoling. “But if you help me, I’ll help you.”

“What do you mean
this time
?” Rieker said slowly.

Larkin’s throaty chuckle echoed in the room, reminding Tiki of the thunder she’d heard during the storm. The faerie was dangerous, unpredictable and untrustworthy, yet Tiki held her breath, waiting to hear what Larkin would say next.

“It’s time to face the facts. I
saved
your life, William. You
owe
me. The faerie blood that runs in your veins may allow you to guard the ring of the truce, but it also binds you to the laws of our world. You are beholden to me.”

Tiki gasped. “
Saved
him? You
murdered
his family.”

The faerie stood oddly still, her arms held close to her body. In the past she’d danced and twirled—a butterfly flitting from flower to flower—but now, she barely moved. Her icy gaze was frozen on Tiki. “How do you know that?”

Tiki motioned with her hand. “Rieker told me.”

Rieker was silent, watching Larkin with a wary expression.

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “Oh, and does he tell you all of his secrets now?”

At Rieker’s continued silence a tiny thread of doubt wove its way around Tiki’s heart.

Larkin’s lips twisted in perverse pleasure at the betraying play of emotions across Tiki’s face. “I didn’t think so.” She leaned forward and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “Never forget, gutter-snipe, I’ve known William far longer than you have. I know more than a few of his secrets.”

Tiki’s felt as though she were being pulled into a dark abyss.

Larkin’s eyes dared Tiki to believe what she said. “
Donegal
drowned those people. Not me. I arrived too late to save any of them but William.”

“You expect us to believe that?” Tiki snapped. She shot a glance at Rieker out of the corner of her eyes. Why wasn’t he speaking up?

Larkin snorted with disgust. “Does it
ever
occur to you that the obvious is not always the answer?”

An odd sense of imbalance wobbled Tiki, as though she stood on a slippery slope. For a second, she wondered if the faerie spoke the truth.

“You’re putting blame in the wrong place—” Larkin’s voice almost sounded weary—“because that’s the easy thing to do. Both of you underestimate the threat of the Winter king. I might have stopped him if I’d recovered the ring of the truce but now it’s too late—he’s gone too far. I need your help.”

“That’s enough, Larkin.” Rieker suddenly came to life and moved toward the faerie as if to usher her out. “We don’t want to help you. We just want you to leave us alone.”

Larkin’s lips twisted into a sneer. “You’d best be careful what you wish for, William, or you might wish away the very thing you want the most.”

Rieker stiffened. “Are you threatening me?”

She fluttered the fan before her face, her eyes glittering like blue opals behind hooded lids, reminding Tiki of an exotic snake waiting to strike. “I’m quite sure you would find some of my secrets fascinating.”

“Were you involved in the murder of the Seelie king?”

The faerie blinked in surprise. “So you already know.” A fleeting smile flitted across her face. “That’s what I like about you, William—always one step ahead of the rest of the lot. I’ve always said you would do well in my world.”

Rieker didn’t return her smile. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Larkin’s smile faded. “No, I wasn’t involved in the Summer king’s murder. In the span of four years—less than a blink of time in the faerie world—
two
Seelie kings have been murdered— O’Riagáin and Eridanus. Both at the hand of one man: Donegal.”

A low snarl emitted from her throat. “Now he sits on the Dragon Throne as we speak, claiming to rule all of Faerie. He is a madman, thirsting for power, surrounded by his minions—” she threw out an arm and flinched as though in pain— “mindless warriors who follow his commands.” Her voice lowered. “But he won’t stop with the death of O’Riagáin. Oh, no. He has bigger plans than that. He’s coming after the Queen, the royal family and—” her words fell, diamond sharp— “he’s learned there is someone marked with
an fáinne sí
hiding in London.” Larkin raised her eyebrows. With an arrogant twist of her head she nodded at Tiki. “He’s coming after
her
.”

Chapter Six

T
iki gripped the back of a nearby chair. Surely she couldn’t have heard Larkin correctly.

Rieker took a step forward, his hands clenched in fists. His voice rang with accusation. “How did he find out about Tiki’s mark?”

“Donegal is after anyone who will further his power,” Larkin replied. “Especially now, when he’s found a way around the truce and believes he’s invincible.” She slapped the fan against her hand, a calculating look creasing her beautiful features. “He doesn’t know who is marked or where they might be yet, but trust me, he is relentless.” Her lips twisted in a smug smile. “Lucky for you, I know how to stop him. That’s why you’ll help me.”

Tiki stood stunned. “But I thought you were part of the UnSeelie court. I thought—”

“You thought what?” The faerie cut her off with a snarl. “That I would forever live my life in the shadows and gloom? That I was bred from the monstrosities who make up the dark court?” Her upper lip curled with derision. “I was a
spy
!” She spat the word out like a gauntlet thrown to the ground. “I sacrificed myself to that miserable life for Eridanus, for Finn—” she stopped, a rare play of emotions blowing across her face. “But they didn’t live to see my success and I will do what
I
think is right now.”

“And that is what, exactly?” Rieker’s voice was low, ragged with emotion.

“There’s only one way to stop Donegal at this point. He has grown too strong. We need to put her—” she stabbed her long finger in Tiki’s direction— “and the
Cloch na Teamhrach
together.”

Tiki stepped back. She didn’t understand what Larkin had said, but she knew better than to trust the faerie. Nothing Larkin had planned could be good for Tiki or her family.

Rieker spoke the foreign words with a surprising ease. “What is
Cloch na Teamhrach
?”

“The Stone of Tara.”

At the sound of her name, dread trickled down Tiki’s back like the icy brown water of the Thames, chilling her. She clenched her hands. “Tara?”

“Yes,” Larkin said. “The stone is carved from the rock found beneath the Hill of Tara in Ireland, where the Seelie court originated. It is sacred to our world.” The faerie’s eyes narrowed, her expression becoming hard. “Legend says the rock will cry out when touched by a true high king or queen. All in Faerie, Seelie and UnSeelie alike, must bow to a sovereign named by
Cloch na Teamhrach.
”

“So where is this sacred stone?” Rieker asked, his curiosity clearly aroused, “and what does it have to do with Tiki?”

Larkin lowered her voice. “The location of the Tara Stone is one of the Otherworld’s greatest secrets, but it is whispered that the stone is in the Palace of Mirrors.”

“The Palace of Mirrors?” Tiki asked, despite herself. “What’s that?”

A smile quirked Larkin’s mouth at Tiki’s interest. “The Palace of Mirrors is a fortress located on Wydryn Tor high above the Wychwood Forest. It stands on neutral ground between the Plain of Sunlight that the Seelie’s inhabit and the Plain of Starlight where the UnSeelies live.”

“The Wychwood Forest?” Rieker interrupted. “But that’s over in Oxfordshire.”

Larkin tapped her fan along the back of a chair as she moved toward the window. She stopped in a spill of sunlight, which turned her glamoured brown hair to the blond color Tiki remembered from past encounters. She swiveled toward Rieker.

“You’re exactly right, William. The Royal Forest of Wychwood is an ancient parcel of land that was set aside as a place for the British sovereigns to hunt deer and stags. A place of magic your royals have long known about. The stone quarried for one of your world’s most important royal buildings, St. George’s Chapel at Windsor Castle, comes from a town within the forest. Protected by enchantments, even now.” She snapped her fan open and fluttered the delicate blue silk before her face. “The Wychwood Forest is a grand place of immeasurable beauty—” her tone sharpened— “and terrible danger for those who don’t know their way. The Wychwood is one of the true intersections between the mortal world and the Otherworld.”

An intersection with the Otherworld? Tiki fought back a shudder. Was it possible such places existed? Where one could start walking in one world and end up in another?

“A..Are there,” Tiki faltered, “other…intersections?”

“Of course,” Larkin said. “For instance, Wydryn Tor is a crossroads with what you mortals call Glastonbury Tor, though time and space are measured differently in our world. But I was telling you about the Palace.” Larkin snapped her fan closed against the palm of her hand. “The Palace of Mirrors provides the same function as your Queen’s Buckingham Palace. It is where the ruler of Faerie resides.”

She moved to the desk, drawing a long finger along the edge of the walnut wood. “In our world, control shifts during the year. The Seelies, also known as the Summer Court, rule from Beltane, which is the first of May, to Samhain, at the end of October. The UnSeelie’s, the Winter Court, rule during the dark months from Samhain to Beltane.”

Rieker stood with his hands on his hips. “I thought Donegal sat on the Seelie throne now?”

Larkin gave a sharp jerk of her head. “Which is the reason I’m here. Donegal has killed the Summer king just weeks before Beltane—the day when control of the courts should shift back to the Seelie’s again. But he doesn’t intend to relinquish control on the first of May.” She held her long, delicate finger up. “We have one chance to take the throne back.”