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The Torn Wing

Page 9

by Kiki Hamilton


  “Yep, same one,” Clara said in a happy voice. She tugged Tiki toward the young man. “Let’s go talk to ‘im. Maybe he’s got his pretty horse outside so you can see.”

  Tiki hesitated, then gripped Clara’s hand tighter. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s have a word with Dain.” Clara skipped along beside Tiki as they approached the young man, waving happily. Dain pushed off the wall and straightened, sweeping his hat off his head.

  He knelt down and smiled at the little girl. “Hello Clara, what a surprise to see you here today. Are you traveling?”

  “No, we came to see ol’ Potts and to feed Johnny.”

  Dain’s eyebrows flicked in a frown. “Who’s Johnny?”

  “He’s a friend of ours, especially Fi.” She gave him a sweet smile as she held out her book. “See? I got a book ‘bout faeries, ‘cept they’re really called lep’reecons.”

  Dain made a show of looking at the book. “Leprechauns are tricky sorts – you best be careful around them or they’ll steal all your gold.”

  Clara’s laughter trilled like wind chimes. “That’s wot ol’ Potts said too.” Dain smiled up at Tiki. “Is this pretty girl your sister?”

  His direct question took Tiki by surprise.

  “That’s Tiki. She takes care of me.” Clara smiled brightly at Tiki as Dain pushed himself to his feet. “She’s like my mum, aren’t you, Teek?”

  “Miss Tiki, is it?” He inclined his head at her. “Brendain Browne, but my friends call me Dain. I hope you will too.” His voice was low and musical, as if there was a thread of laughter underlying his words. Up close, he was taller than Tiki expected and she had to tilt her head to look into his face. “Clara is lucky to have someone as kind and attentive as you to care for her.” His eyes were blue and guileless and Tiki felt the heat rise in her cheeks. He was extremely attractive, from the firm line of his jaw, to the chiseled features of his face and she was sure he knew it.

  “Do I know you?” Tiki asked coldly. There was something familiar about this young man that made her want to know more— which told her one thing: he was dangerous. Only Rieker had ever had this effect on her.

  Dain seemed non-plussed at her rude behavior. “I don’t believe we’ve been formerly introduced, but I look forward to getting to know you better.” He smiled, revealing a dimple on the left side of his cheek.

  “But you know Toots?” Tiki persisted.

  “Toots?” A puzzled frown brushed across his forehead. “I’m sorry—”

  “Thomas.” Tiki shook her head to clear her thoughts. “He’s a ten year old, loves horses, has bright orange hair and freckles.”

  Dain’s face went blank. “Why do you ask?”

  It felt like a rock landed in Tiki’s stomach. Dain’s reaction to her description of Toots was too controlled. It was obvious he knew exactly who she was talking about.

  “You are the one who brought him home, aren’t you?” she said. Tiki took a step back and pulled Clara along with her. “What do you want?” Fear sharpened her wits and suddenly she could think again. Why was he here, now—when Tiki and her family were here?

  “Dain, did you bring your white horse today?” Clara asked. “With the pretty red ribbons and the bells? I want to show her to Teek.”

  Dain’s eyes were locked on Tiki and he seemed unsure how to answer.

  “Are you following me?” Tiki snapped. Somehow, Dain was involved in Toots’ trip to the Otherworld. That alone was enough for Tiki to consider him dangerous. He wanted something—but what?

  Tiki squatted down and lifted Clara into her arms, wondering if she should pull her knife from where it was hidden up her sleeve as she backed away. “Just leave us alone,” she said in a low voice.

  “Why do you want him to leave us alone, Teek?” Clara asked, giving Tiki a confused look. “I like him and Doggie does too.”

  Dain fingered his hat as he debated his answer, his eyes never leaving Tiki’s face. “I’m here to help.”

  Tiki put her hand up. “We don’t want your help.” She turned and hurried away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tiki’s thoughts swam in confusing eddies as they returned to where Toots and Fiona sat with Johnny. Though his glamour had been flawless, Dain was fey, she was sure of it. He’d known who she was talking about when she’d asked about Toots and he’d avoided a direct answer. What did he want from them?

  “We found Toots, Miss Tiki,” Johnny said with a mischievous grin as Tiki approached.

  She gave a weak smile in return. “Good.” It was all she could think to say. Earlier, she’d considered inviting Johnny back to Rieker’s townhome for another hot meal but Shamus had warned her not to reveal any more of Rieker’s real life as William Richmond to the boy. Now, with this Dain fellow possibly following her, she needed to be extra careful.

  “When Rieker starts his free school, maybe you could attend with us,” Fiona suggested to Johnny as they were leaving.

  “Why would he want to do that?” Toots asked “Who wants to go to school?”

  Johnny smiled at Fiona. His brown hair was long and shaggy, a thick layer of bangs covering his forehead, but his eyes sparkled and he was quick with an engaging smile. “That sounds tempting, Miss Fiona.” He handed her the bag with the empty stew crock in it, his fingers lingering on hers. “Thank you again for the meal.”

  Fiona nodded, her teeth tugging at her lower lip.

  “Good-bye, Johnny,” Tiki said, slipping her arm through Fiona’s and pulling her away. “Take care.”

  He doffed his cap at them and gave them a mock bow. Though his clothes were threadbare and a string wrapped around his boot held the sole to the bottom of his shoe, he had a certain rakish air about him. “Until we meet again.”

  Tiki nudged Fiona as they pushed their way out the doors of Charing Cross into the afternoon. She glanced once over her shoulder to see if they were being followed but Dain was nowhere in sight. “He’s a cheeky bit, that one. You better be careful around him, Fiona.”

  “Don’t worry, Teek. Fi’s waitin’ for a ‘andsome prince,” Clara said, holding tight to Tiki’s hand. “Johnny’s not dressed right.”

  Fiona remained unusually silent.

  RIEKER WAS HOME when Tiki and the others arrived. Like usual, Toots went out to the coach house to see if Geoffrey would let him pet the horses and help feed or brush them, while Clara and Fiona went in search of Mrs. Bosworth to tell her how much Johnny had loved the stew.

  Tiki knocked on the door to Rieker’s study.

  “Come in,” his low voice called.

  Tiki pushed the door open and peered in. Rieker sat at his desk, his jacket thrown over the back of a nearby chair, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, the fabric of his white shirt strained by his broad shoulders. His dark hair brushed his collar as he bent his head to work, a gas lamp lighting the wood surface of the desk.

  “Am I interrupting?”

  Rieker glanced over his shoulder, and immediately stopped working. “No, I’m just finishing up some paperwork.” He waved a hand in the direction of the chairs. “Come in and sit down.”

  Tiki closed the door and moved soundlessly across the plush Persian rug that covered the floor. She slid into the overstuffed chair, enjoying the manliness of the room. Dark bookcases lined the walls between huge windows that looked out to well-tended gardens. A nearby table with two chairs on each side had a chess game in progress.

  Rieker waited as Tiki sat down. Dark circles shadowed the skin under his eyes and he looked as though he hadn’t slept. Worry had created fine lines between his brows and his eyes were darker than normal, reminding Tiki of when she’d first met him.

  “How was Mr. Potts?” Rieker smiled and his face transformed, as if he’d pulled a mask on to hide his concerns.

  Tiki held out the book she’d just purchased. “He sent you a new book,” she said, then affected Mr. Potts’ accent, “’bout a bloke with more than one identity.”

  Rieker blinked in surprise, one corner of his mout
h lifting in a half-smile. He reached for the book and examined the title with curiosity. “The Count of Monte Cristo?”

  Tiki shook her head. “I haven’t heard of it either.”

  Rieker put the book on the edge of the desk. “Well, if Mr. Potts recommended this one, it’s sure to be good.”

  “How was Leo? Did you learn anything more?” Tiki slipped her shoes off and tucked her feet beneath her, snuggling deeper into the chair. For this moment she felt safe, alone in this room with Rieker, almost like they were hidden in a world of their own.

  He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “They still haven’t been able to stop the bleeding.”

  Tiki frowned. “That’s not good.”

  “The physicians are calling it hemophilia but the Queen has never shown any signs of the disease nor did Leo’s father before he passed.” Rieker tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Arthur is convinced that ‘other forces’ are involved.”

  “I don’t think there’s any question, do you?”

  Rieker shook his head. “Not really. He’s asked us to attend a party a week from next Saturday, to see if we can spot anyone who might be ‘out of the ordinary’ is how he put it.”

  Tiki hesitated. “Speaking of ‘out of the ordinary’, I keep seeing one young man in particular lately.”

  Rieker stiffened. “Who’s that?”

  “I first noticed him when Fi and I went to Charing Cross last week. Then I saw him again today. Clara waved at him and called him Dain.” Tiki raised her eyebrows. “Apparently, he’s the chap who brought Toots home from the Otherworld.”

  “Does he seem threatening?”

  Tiki shook her head. “Not really…not yet—” she hesitated— “but he wants something.”

  “Curious faeries are usually a problem.”

  “He said he’d come to help.”

  Rieker grimaced. “Helpful faeries might even be worse.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Dain, you said his name was?” Tiki nodded. “Keep your distance from him and tell me if you see him again.”

  “I told him to leave us alone.”

  “It’s good you let him know you’re not afraid of him, but maybe even better if you pretend you can’t see him at all. By the way, Arthur thought we might be able to visit with Leo in a private drawing room for a short time while we’re at the palace.” Rieker gave her a teasing grin. “Arthur knows Leo enjoys seeing you. He probably thinks that will help him get well.”

  Tiki’s cheeks warmed. “I think Leo fancies any girl, not just me.”

  Rieker chuckled. “That’s true, but I think Leo fancies you more than most.” A soft smile stretched Rieker’s lips as he tilted his head to see Tiki’s face. “You’ve enchanted him.” His voice got softer. “Just as you’ve enchanted me.”

  Surprised, Tiki’s eyes flicked to Rieker’s. His gaze was steady on her and there was a vulnerability in his expression that she’d rarely seen. A warmth spread in her chest until she could feel it heating her cheeks, as well.

  Rieker seemed to catch himself, and the mask that hid his emotions was back in place.

  He looked away and ran his fingers through his dark hair, making the wavy ends stand up.

  Tiki searched for something to fill the awkward silence. “What I don’t understand is how Donegal has found a way around the truce.”

  “I know.” Rieker sighed. “Unfortunately, I suspect Larkin is the only one who would be able to answer that question.”

  “Did I hear someone mention my name?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Larkin.” Rieker’s voice came out in a growl. “Is there never any peace from you?”

  The blond faerie strode out of the dim shadows from the corner of the room. “Really, William—” Larkin’s voice was disapproving— “you seem to forget that you want something from me.” She ran a finger along the back of his chair, leaning forward to speak into his ear. “A little respect, a little gratitude, would go a long way in encouraging me to confide some of my secrets.”

  Dressed in a simple gown of moss green silk that seemed to float around her, the faerie was barefoot. Her hair hung long down her back in a wild tangle of golden waves. Her face glowed as if the sun shone down solely on her and once again, Tiki had a hard time dragging her eyes away from Larkin’s beauty.

  “Do you ever stop spying on us?” Rieker snapped. “Don’t you need to sleep occasionally? Or are you part vampire as well?”

  Larkin jerked her head back and hissed at him. “You push me, William, with your insults.” She put a razor-sharp fingernail under his chin. Her lips pulled back in a snarl. “Pray that you don’t push me too far one day.”

  “Don’t threaten him, Larkin.” Tiki sat straighter in her chair. Larkin wanted something from her—for once she had the upper hand. “Or you might push me too far.”

  Larkin looked at Tiki, her head tilted like a bird. “What’s this? Has my little faerie queen finally gathered some courage?” She circled Tiki’s chair and gazed at the other side of her face. “Do you bite and scratch now?” She poked a finger at Tiki’s arm.

  Lightning fast, Tiki’s fingers stretched like a cat’s claws and flew to clamp around Larkin’s wrist. The faerie let out a cry. Tiki squeezed hard, intending to inflict pain. She spoke through gritted teeth. “If that’s what I need to do to keep my family safe, then the answer is yes.”

  For a moment she stared unblinking into the faerie’s mercurial eyes, then Larkin threw back her head and let out a wild cackle of laughter. Tiki loosened her grip and Larkin jerked her arm free. Tiki was surprised by the gleeful smile that stretched across Larkin’s features.

  “I feared perhaps you’d inherited too much of Adasara’s gentle nature, but no—” Larkin twirled once, lifting her skirts so they swirled around her legs. As her long hair flew free Tiki caught a glimpse of what looked like two terrible wounds that slashed across Larkin’s back before the faerie faced Tiki again and clapped her hands— “I see Finn is alive and well in you. Your father was a warrior. As fierce and wild as a midnight storm—” “Larkin,” Rieker interrupted, “why are you here?”

  “Ah yes, that.” Larkin stilled. “I came to tell you there is a party going on in the Palace of Mirrors, as we speak. Usually the celebration of Beltane, the onset of summer, is hosted by the Seelies as they regain power of the courts, but instead, Donegal is hosting a lavish feast.” She pointed her long, delicate finger at Tiki. “It is the perfect opportunity for you to touch Cloch na teamhrach.”

  Tiki took a deep breath. “How do we get there?”

  Both Larkin and Rieker looked at her in surprise.

  “What?” Rieker gasped.

  “A sensible choice,” Larkin said, stepping closer to Tiki.

  Tiki pushed herself out of the chair, needing to move, to put space between herself and the faerie, to try and dislodge the terrible fear churning in the pit of her stomach. “I can’t stand by and watch the people I care about be hurt. But you’ll have to help me. Tell me how to find the stone and what to do.”

  “You’re not going without me.” Rieker jumped up from his chair.

  “There are some things I won’t have to teach,” Larkin said, standing perfectly still. “You’re beginning to believe in yourself.”

  Tiki’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Larkin held up her wrist and pulled back the flowing sleeve. Green blood oozed from the painful looking punctures in her skin. “Look what you did.”

  Tiki bit back a gasp as she stared at the faerie’s arm. She glanced down at her own fingers. They looked perfectly normal now, but she’d felt the transformation in her hand when she’d reached for Larkin’s wrist—the blinding speed with which she moved, the ferocity of her grip—almost as if claws had sprung from her fingertips.

  “So, you see,” Larkin said with an enigmatic smile, “it has already begun.

  “You will not go without me,” Rieker said again, looking from one to the other.

  Larkin circl
ed Tiki, looking thoughtful. “You’ll need to be disguised. We can’t take the chance of you being recognized.”

  “Then put a glamour on me. Or better yet, teach me how to apply a glamour.”

  Larkin measured her through slitted lids. “Perhaps you should just shed the one you wear?” There was a tone in the faerie’s words that sounded like a dare.

  “What?” Tiki and Rieker spoke at the same time.

  Tiki bit down hard on her lip. Larkin didn’t need any more of an advantage. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “Can you disguise me or not?”

  Larkin nodded, tossing a long strand of silky hair over her shoulder as she slowly paced. “I can disguise you, but the Palace of Mirrors is exactly what the names implies: a palace of enchanted mirrors. The mirrors reflect one’s true form. It is a place where lies become truth.” She let out a trill of laughter like wind chimes, as if she’d told a joke. “To stop anyone from entering court who might be in a glamour and mean to do the king harm, of course.”

  She moved behind Rieker’s back as effortlessly as if she floated and for a second Tiki couldn’t see her. Then the faerie peered from behind him, giving Tiki the odd sense they were playing a game of hide and seek.

  “What do we do then?” Rieker asked, stepping closer to Tiki, pulling her away from Larkin.

  “First, we will avoid the mirrors. They are primarily in the Great Hall, where court and all the festivities are held. It will be tricky, but we can still accomplish what needs to be done.” She snapped her fingers. “But we need to go now, while the opportunity exists. The Palace of Mirrors will be the last place Donegal would ever expect to see one of us.”

  IT ONLY TOOK a few seconds for Larkin to apply a glamour to Tiki. With a feather-light touch she ran her hands over Tiki’s hair and along her arms down to her feet, chanting indistinguishable words. As she worked, the faint smell of clover permeated the air. Tiki felt as if she’d been infused with a glowing light. But instead of being warmed by the light, a cool breeze blew across her skin— as if she stood in front of an open door.

 

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