The Torn Wing

by Kiki Hamilton

Dain pushed off the wall, stepping toward the door. “He’s probably in London, wondering where we are.” He pulled the door open and motioned for Tiki to exit. As she approached, the vines unraveled and she slid through the small opening unscathed. She ignored her pang of disappointment. He hadn’t seen Rieker. Had he escaped? A second thought came unbidden to her mind. Had Larkin?

  The same shadows as before lingered in the forest. How could the UnSeelies stand to live constantly in this darkness? As they walked, Tiki noticed Sean now had a sword and other weapons strung from his belt as well as a quiver of arrows tied to his back, with a bow slung over one shoulder. She turned her head uneasily, searching her surroundings, then hurried to catch up with Sean’s long strides.

  “If you won’t answer my questions about William and Larkin, the least you can do is tell me about you. You said you’re a spy in the UnSeelie court?”

  Sean whipped around and before Tiki could blink his scarred face was next to hers, his fingers pressed tight against her mouth. His eyes were slits in his face and she could hear the anger in his voice. “Watch what you say, for these woods truly do have ears. Don’t say it again,” he whispered. “Ever.”

  Tiki nodded, her eyes wide. Sean stepped back and motioned for her to walk alongside him as the trail had widened. They walked in silence until Tiki heard the slow, steady sound of hoof beats echoing behind them. She turned and saw two young horses, heads bobbing as they plodded along, keeping pace with them.

  “Sean,” she cried, tugging at his arm, “look, there are horses— do you think we could catch them?”

  The faerie never slowed in his walking, nor did he look back. “Are they wet?”

  “Wet?” Tiki repeated, peered over her shoulder again. “It looks like their manes are dripping. Why?”

  “Kelpies. They’ll let you ride—right into the bog where they’ll drown you.”

  Tiki swallowed a gasp and hurried to stay close to Sean, glancing once more over her shoulder at the horses, who looked perfectly normal to her.

  “They’ll give up after awhile,” he said. “They won’t stray too far from the water.” Ten minutes later when Tiki looked again the horses were gone.

  “Larkin said there were all sorts of fey in the Wychwood, is that true?”

  “More than you can imagine and then some.” Sean’s expression was grim. “Did you notice those pictures on the ceiling of the Great Hall?” Images of those horrific scenes flashed before Tiki’s eyes. “All replicas of actual events.” His voice turned grim. “Donegal takes pride in his subjects.”

  As if to prove his point, a sudden rustling came from the bushes and trees ahead. Sean jerked to a stop. He already held his bow in his hands, though pointed at the ground, an arrow cocked and ready to be released.

  “Name yourself,” he called out.

  The wind sighed through the trees, sounding like faraway whispers. Tiki stopped close to him and cocked her head to hear better, but the words were just beyond her ability to understand.

  A gust blew through the branches and three women fluttered onto the trail. They stood abreast of each other, blocking the way. Their skin was weathered and brown, their leaf-like dresses revealing seductive bits of legs and arms and most of their bare chests. Long, soft hair trailed from their heads, like bits of moss, twisting in the breeze.

  “We offer you shelter from the storm,” the first one said, opening her long arms to Sean.

  “We offer you rest from your weary travels,” the second one said, cocking her leg in a seductive pose.

  “We’ll take your companion in exchange for passage,” said the third, her long branch-like fingers pointing at Tiki.

  In a languid movement, Sean drew two more arrows from his back and threaded them into his bow along with the first, though he didn’t raise the weapon. His voice was calm as he responded.

  “Though a tempting offer, ladies, we must decline. We need to continue on our way.”

  “The restless wind brings us messages from distant forests,” the first one said, taking a step closer.

  The second ran her fingers over her dark breasts, an inviting look on her face. She held her hand out for Sean to take. “We hear whispers of one who was meant to die at the hand of our sister but was raised instead by dark magic. Come to me and I will tell you more.” The wind gusted and she floated closer.

  The third one continued to glare in a threatening way, her eyes like dark knotholes in her rough and woody face. “For that—” her malevolent gaze was locked on Tiki with a hungry look— “we are owed a replacement.”

  “I already know of the liche,” Sean said in a conversational tone. “That your sister, Ash, missed his heart and could not kill the creature is no concern of mine.” He raised the bow ever so slightly. “Nor is the act of raising the undead. Unless you offer me a way to stop him, then I must once again decline your fine offers and continue on our way.”

  The women’s expressions grew dark and their arms began to wave, like branches being blown in a storm. “How dare you speak to us with such insolence,” the third one rasped. “We are the heart of the forest—you shall do our bidding.”

  Tiki took a step behind Sean. Could they outrun these woodland creatures? In what looked like slow motion, Sean raised his bow but to Tiki’s surprise, he pointed the arrows away from the women, towards the forest.

  He raised his voice to be heard over the blustery wind and thrashing of nearby branches. “I spy a thorny plum, an oak and an elder tree—should I bury my arrows in their trunks to buy the answer and our passage?”

  Shrieks of horror split the air that had suddenly become a whirlwind of dead leaves and twigs.

  “How dare you?” screamed the second woman.

  “There is only one way to kill the liche now—you must burn his body on a branch of Ash,” the first whispered.

  “Wicked UnSeelie fey.” The third woman growled in a guttural voice. “Be gone from our sight.” In a fierce gust of wind the three women were swept up and blown back into the forest, disappearing into the trees.

  Sean lowered his bow, though he did not un-notch his arrows and motioned for Tiki to walk forward. She dashed down the trail, eager to be away from this haunted place.

  “Who were they?”

  “Tree Dryads,” Sean said, catching up with her. “I spotted their trunks before they tried to stop us. On their own, they’re shy, but the thorny plum, oak and elder together can be a deadly combination. We were lucky today.”

  “They knew of the liche that Donegal has raised.”

  “Yes. The entire forest is aware of the liche.” Sean adjusted his quiver on his back and walked with his bow gripped in his hand. He scanned the area around them as they walked. “He is as feared here as he is there.”

  “He’s the creature who attacked Prince Leopold? The creature that Donegal has sent to London to kill the Queen?” Sean turned at a fork in the trail. Tiki glanced down the other path, but the trees and underbrush looked identical to the path they’d chosen.

  “The liche hunts in either world,” Sean said in a grim voice. “Kings and queens, mortal or fey. He’s not selective with his prey, though legend has it he prefers young humans. Opportunity is his master.”

  Tiki gulped. An assassin who killed in both worlds? “Does he have a name?”

  “His name was Sionnach when he murdered the Seelie King. Translated to English, I believe he would be known as Mr. Fox.” Sean moved in front of her on the trail, his head swiveling to survey the trees up ahead. “That was a helpful bit of knowledge the one shared today: burn the liche’s body on a branch of Ash. We’d best keep out eyes peeled for an Ash tree.”

  Tiki longed for the safety and normalcy of the townhome in Grosvenor Square, but part of her knew even that part of her life was changing. “How much farther?”

  “Not far.” He pointed in the distance. “Can you see how much lighter it is over there? That’s O’Donoghue’s farm—the entrance and exit to this part of the Wychwood. Luckily, the R
edcaps don’t patrol this part of the border.”

  “Redcaps?”

  “The worst kind of goblin. They dye their hats red in their victim’s blood. Vicious little creatures who will eat you alive.” Tiki shuddered at the image. “But lucky for us they live on the other side of the forest along the north border.”

  THEY CONTINUED ON through the forest.

  “Are there villages in the Wychwood?” Tiki asked.

  “Why do you ask?” Sean sounded surprised.

  “There was a beggar on the path to the Palace of Mirrors and Larkin told him he’d have better luck at one of the villages in the wood. I just wondered—”

  “Yes. Two on the borders and one deep in the forest. Not a place you’d want to visit.” There was something dark in his voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The town has a prison called The White Tower there. It’s hidden in the very heart of the Wychwood—where the damned and demented are held.” He shot her a glance from the corner of his eyes. “It is said to be a place of no return.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Tiki didn’t know what to say to that so she didn’t say anything at all. The trees were further apart now, with small stretches of woodland grass growing at their feet. They turned at a wide bend in the trail and she spotted three deer grazing among the undergrowth.

  “Sean, look.” She pulled on the faerie’s arm, pointing to the graceful creatures. At her words, all three deer jerked their heads up. For a split second, their great limpid eyes fixed on them, then they turned and looked down the trail from which Tiki and Sean had just emerged. They stood frozen long enough for Tiki to wonder what they were looking at, when they turned and with great leaps bounded off into the woods.

  “That’s not good,” Sean muttered. He looked over his shoulder in the same direction the deer had been gazing. Suddenly the low vibration of hooves became apparent and Tiki realized the deer had heard something, rather than seen something, Sean grabbed her hand. “Run.”

  Like a storm approaching, deep barks rumbled in the distance. She followed Sean as fast as her feet would take her. They zigged and zagged between the trees heading into the deepest shadows of the forest. Even clothed in her bark-like trousers the underbrush tore at her legs, but that only fueled her panic and spurred her to run faster.

  It wasn’t long before the thunder of hoof beats shook the earth beneath Tiki’s feet forcing her heart to pound with the same rhythm.

  “This way.” Sean grabbed her hand and pulled her into the water of a nearby river, leading her upstream. The water was icy cold, as if melted from mountain snow, but Tiki barely noticed. The barking was getting louder and it was clear that more than one hound was headed in their direction. “Go toward those rocks.”

  Sean huffed as he pushed against the current, pointing to a group of rocks jutting into the river. The water was getting deeper the further they went. “We need to get around the corner.”

  They’d just reached the turn in the river when a mournful baying split the air. Startled at the proximity of the sound, Tiki stopped and looked over her shoulder. Through the dappled shadows beneath the trees she could just make out two great black dogs, anxiously sniffing the ground on the other bank where they’d entered the river. Far behind, a horse and rider wove through the trees. Even at this distance she could see the fiery red hair of the rider.

  Fingers wrapped around her wrist and yanked her around the corner.

  “Don’t. Stop.” Sean growled in a low voice as Tiki stumbled to keep her balance on the rocky riverbed. If Sean hadn’t been holding her arm so tightly she would have fallen face first into the water. But his grip and her forward momentum kept her upright as he pulled her toward a group of great rounded boulders that towered over their heads.

  Behind them, a man’s deep voice shouted above the wild barking and baying of the four-footed beasts hot on their trail.

  Sean pulled Tiki straight toward the rocks. It wasn’t until she was next to the stones that she saw the thin crevice that ran between two of the giant boulders. The only part wide enough to allow them to pass through was under the water that swirled around Tiki’s thighs.

  “Follow me,” he whispered harshly. Without releasing the grip he had on her wrist, Sean dove beneath the water, straight toward the rocks. Tiki had no choice but to follow him. She sucked her breath in with a hiss as she went face-first into the icy water. The faerie pulled her down close to the bottom of the river and swam against the current into the dark gap between the boulders. Tiki broke through the surface and let out a gasp of air. Before she could speak Sean covered her mouth with his hand and pressed a finger to his lips. Tiki nodded her understanding. They were in a tiny pool tucked within the great boulders. Sand had built up against several of the rocks, creating small sandbars. Sean motioned for Tiki to wait on one, out of the cold water, while he stood near the edge of the crevice, trying to see what was happening outside.

  In the distance she heard the splashing of the dogs as they ran in and out of the water, woofing and sniffing, trying to pick up the scent they’d lost. Occasionally, their master would shout a command.

  Tiki sat on the sand with her knees tucked to her chest, her back to the stone, trying not to shiver. After awhile, the beat of her heart slowed and she was able to draw an even breath. She glanced around their hiding spot. A series of cracks and spaces arced between the rocks like otherworldly doorways, stretching away from her and disappearing into darkness.

  It seemed like hours before Sean came and sat on the sand beside her. His teeth were chattering and his lips had a distinctly blue tinge to them.

  “You need to warm up,” she whispered. “Can we light a fire?” She hadn’t forgotten the magical way he had started the fire in the stonecutter’s cabin.

  “N..not yet,” he said. “I..I’m f..fine.”

  Tiki scooted close enough that her arm and leg pressed against his, trying to share her warmth. They sat huddled together in the shadows. Tiki strained to hear any noises that would indicate if whoever hunted them was still outside but she could only hear the music of the river swirling by.

  “Is he gone?” she finally whispered.

  “I think so. We need to wait a bit l..longer though.” Sean had his jaws clamped and lips pressed together, making his scars more prominent than normal. Tiki realized she’d stopped seeing the old wounds when she looked at him.

  “Who was that?”

  Sean’s expression was grim. “Bearach and his hellhounds. Donegal must have put a hefty price on your head if he has his tánaiste tracking us.” He gave her a sideways glance. “What was it you were going to show Donegal?”

  Tiki opened her mouth to answer, then shut it again. She didn’t dare tell Sean about her birthmark. What should she say? “Larkin wanted me to distract him.”

  His eyes narrowed. “She brought you from London to distract the Winter King?” He scoffed. “Why do I think there’s more to this story?”

  Tiki gaze darkened. “I think it’s better if I keep that information to myself for now.”

  It took a moment for him to realize she’d echoed the very comment he’d made earlier. The corner of his mouth turned up and he snorted softly. “Touché, my mysterious little friend.”

  SEAN WENT OUT and scouted the area before he allowed Tiki to leave the little cave. The forest was as it had been before— shadows hung like cobwebs, shifting and moving with the breeze. It didn’t take long for their clothes to dry as they walked. Occasionally, Tiki saw eyes glowing from the underbrush, watching their passage. Sean stopped once and cut a branch from a tree, stripping away the symmetrical leaves and sharpening one end to a stiletto-like point. He handed her the T shaped limb. “Take it.”

  Tiki took the branch with a quizzical expression. “What’s this?”

  “A stake of Ash—for the liche.” His face was deadly serious. “There’s no telling where he is now. He could be in London or he could be in the Otherworld.” Sean’s expression
darkened. “You’ve attracted Donegal’s attention. No one knows how much control the UnSeelie king has over the liche, or who the next target might be, but you’ve got to be prepared to defend yourself. I don’t know how to burn someone on a branch of Ash, so aim for the heart if you have to use it.”

  AS THEY DREW closer to the light Tiki became more and more anxious. She needed to be home with her family, protecting them. How had Larkin ever convinced her to go to the Otherworld in the first place? And what of Rieker? Worry chewed at her stomach as questions she couldn’t answer battered at her.

  The trees thinned and soon they were walking through a verdant meadow. Hedgerows stretched over rolling hills and in the distance a large field of horses frolicked. Tiki shielded her eyes with her hand to watch the beautiful beasts run and kick up their heels. Even from a distance it was obvious what magnificent creatures they were. How Toots would love to see this, she thought.

  Sean put his fingers to his lips and a piercing whistle split the air. A great white horse, grazing in one corner of the field raised her head and stared in their direction. The beast broke into an effortless gallop towards them. Tiki’s mouth dropped open, for the horse’s hooves never seemed to touch the ground. As the horse drew closer the faint sound of bells chimed in the air and she could see the red ribbons holding the bells braided into its flowing mane. The horse trotted to a stop in front of Sean, shaking its great head and blowing out its nostrils.

  “Hello Aeveen,” Sean said, rubbing the horse’s velvety soft nose. “Have you missed me, girl?” As if in response to the question, the horse jerked its head up and down, the bells chiming with the movement.

  “Wait a minute,” Tiki said. “Is this the horse Toots rode?”

  Instead of answering, Sean said, “D’you think your boy’d like to ride a horse such as this?”

  Tiki narrowed her eyes, an accusing tone in her voice. “Are you the one who took him?”

  Sean stepped away and ran his hand over the horse’s withers, then across the great back. “I didn’t take him,” he said. “I’m the one who brought him home, remember?”