The Torn Wing

by Kiki Hamilton

  Her eyes flashed fire. “You can’t even imagine what devastation Donegal can wreak on London if there is no one to stop him.” She moved a step closer to Rieker. “You’ve seen the storms. Donegal won’t stop until every Seelie is dead or enslaved. Then he’ll finish London.” Tiki’s hand felt cold in Rieker’s as Larkin’s voice got sharper. “Natural disasters: fires, earthquakes or perhaps a tainted water supply? He can kill thousands. He can wipe out half of this city in a blink.”

  She pointed a razor-sharp finger at Rieker. “Don’t think for a second that he won’t send the liche after you, William.” She flung her arm in Tiki’s direction— “or after her when he learns the truth. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “What exactly does Tara have to do with our world?” Dain’s voice was a sea of calm and Tiki let out her breath. “There seems to be some question as to whether she is mortal or fey.”

  Larkin jerked her head towards him as if she’d forgotten he was there. Her eyes were poisonous chips of blue-green ice. “There’s no question. She is fey. There’s not a drop of mortal blood in her veins.”

  Tiki wavered on her feet. Not a drop of mortal blood. Larkin’s words shook her to the core. Both Rieker and Dain reached out an arm to steady her. Tiki didn’t miss the warning glare that Rieker shot him.

  Dain held his hands up as if in surrender. “Apparently that’s news to some of us. Why is she so important to this war?”

  “Because she is marked with an fáinne sí.” Larkin spat out the words. “Just like Finn.”

  For the first time Tiki saw a truly spontaneous emotion on Dain’s face. He swept Tiki with a bewildered look. “Her?”

  “Show him.” Larkin commanded.

  Tiki stood paralyzed.

  “If you don’t, I will.” Larkin moved so fast her hands were a blur. One second she was standing several feet away, the next she had yanked Tiki’s sleeve up to reveal the thin black lines that twisted and swirled around her left wrist.

  Dain’s expression shifted from shock to wonder. He whispered words that sounded like Gaelic before he bowed his head. “I am your servant.”

  “Stop.” Rieker voice was ragged with fury. “This has gone far enough. We’re done here. Leave. Us. Alone.” He pulled Tiki from Larkin’s grasp and slipped an arm around her shoulders, leading her away from the two faeries.

  “Guttersnipe.”

  There was something in Larkin’s voice that made Tiki look over her shoulder.

  “I know about Clara.”

  A wisp of fear flamed in Tiki’s stomach as the blond faerie’s lips turned up in a gloating grin.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Outside Buckingham Palace, the killer waited patiently, hidden among the shadows as if wrought from darkness. The Queen and her family were too closely guarded to reach tonight, but there were others who would feed him until the right opportunity presented itself.

  One young girl in particular had caught his eye. Mr. Fox licked his lips in anticipation.

  Chapter Forty

  The ride home in the carriage was cold and quiet. Tiki huddled alone on the seat, clutching her cloak around her shoulders, trying to stop Larkin’s parting words from echoing in an endless loop in her head.

  Rieker sat across from her, jaw clenched, staring out the window. The last time he’d been this angry was months ago when, not knowing his family was dead, she’d had accused him of being spoiled.

  But now, there was another worry. Larkin had said she knew about Clara. It had been a threat—but what exactly did Larkin know? Tiki closed her eyes and shuddered as goosebumps crawled across her skin like tiny spiders. Clara was hers. How did Larkin know something about the little girl that Tiki didn’t?

  They arrived at Grosvenor Square and Rieker stalked in ahead of her. Tiki followed more slowly. How could she make things better? They were both upset about Larkin—by her manipulations and her secrets. But right now, Rieker was acting like he was jealous. Not without reason, a small voice whispered in the back of her head. Tiki sighed. What was it about Dain that drew her to him?

  She kicked off her shoes and walked barefoot down the hallway, her dress dragging behind with a quiet shushing. Maybe tomorrow things would make more sense.

  Upstairs, Tiki checked that Toots, Johnny and Shamus were asleep, before tiptoeing up another level to check on Fiona and Clara. When she stood next to Clara’s bed and stared down at the mass of blond curls on the pillow and the contented smile on the little girl’s face, a surge of love brought tears to her eyes. Larkin didn’t know anything. Clara was exactly where she belonged.

  THE NEXT MORNING Clara screamed with laughter as Toots chased her through the house, trying to steal her homemade wings. Shamus was gone building school furniture for Rieker’s free school.

  “Johnny’s taking a nap,” Fiona announced, coming into the parlor where Tiki sat by the fire. “He’s feeling better.”

  “He seems much better lately,” Tiki said.

  “Mrs. B. said she thinks the worst is over,” Fiona said with a broad smile.

  Tiki nodded. She’d been thinking about Rieker and Dain, the two of them standing there glaring at each other, like matched bookends. Larkin was never far from her thoughts either—like a nightmare from which she couldn’t awake.

  “Do you think Rieker will send Johnny back to Charing Cross when he’s well?” Fiona asked.

  Tiki turned toward the other girl. “I couldn’t say, Fi.” She hadn’t seen Rieker today. Apparently he’d left before dawn. “But I hope not.”

  “Teek.” Clara shrieked as she ran into the room and flung herself onto Tiki’s lap. “Save me,” she giggled. “Toots is trying to get my wings. He wants to hide them from me.” Tiki glanced towards the empty doorway as she pulled Clara onto her lap.

  “I think you’ve flown too fast for him. I don’t see any sign of Toots.”

  The little girl gasped for breath. “That’s because he went with Dain but he’ll be right back.”

  Tiki froze. “What?” Had Dain been here? A mix of emotions rose in her chest. Had Larkin put him up to this?

  “Dain again?” Fiona gave the girl a sideways glance. “Did he ride his white horse?”

  “No, I didn’t see the horse. Her name’s Aeveen.” Tiki blinked in surprise at Clara’s knowledge as the little girl smoothed Tiki’s long hair with her fingers. “He said maybe I could come next time but I told him I couldn’t go without askin’ you first.” She leaned close and whispered, “I told Toots he better not go without askin’ either, but he just laughed at me.”

  Tiki took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm. She twisted one of Clara’s soft curls around her finger. “That was very good of you to stay home. I’ll talk to Toots when he comes back about telling us before he leaves next time.”

  “He won’t be gone long. Dain just wanted to show him something.” Clara’s face glowed with excitement. “Maybe it’s another horse?”

  “Could be.” Tiki pretended to be unperturbed by news of Toots’s departure. Why would Dain take Toots? Was this another ploy to manipulate her into doing what Larkin wanted?

  “I wonder what color the horse is?” Clara mused. “The white one had bells tied to its mane with red ribbons and…” Clara chattered happily.

  Tiki’s mind raced. Where could she send Fiona, Clara and Toots to hide until she and Rieker got this situation resolved one way or the other? Was there any place that was safe? Would Mr. and Mrs. Bosworth consent to be their chaperones? Or should she send them with Shamus?

  Less than thirty minutes had passed when the sound of Toot’s boots echoed down the hallway in their direction. He catapulted through the door and rushed toward Tiki.

  “What’re you on about?” Fiona asked, raising her head from the embroidery she was working on to give him the once over. “Clara’s been talking about that Dain chap again.”

  Toots flopped on the floor in front of the fire and held out shaking fingers to the flames as if chilled. Instead of the e
uphoria that the boy had experienced on his last trip to the Otherworld, this time Tiki could see that he was horribly upset.

  “Toots?” Tiki asked. “What is it?”

  There was a long moment of silence then Toots jerked around to look at her. His freckles were bright against his pale skin as his face furrowed into a knotted expression. Tiki could see he was trying desperately not to cry.

  “Dain came again. Asked me to go with him for a bit.” He looked guilty. “So I did.”

  Tiki nodded. “That’s what Clara said.”

  “I thought maybe I could get that golden bridle for you, Teek. You know—” he motioned to the room around them— “so we could live in a flat of our own if Rieker kicks us out. But—”

  “Yes?” Tiki kept her voice gentle, but her heart was thudding. Something was very wrong.

  Toots burst into tears. “They killed all the horses. Those beautiful horses that could run like the wind—” a gut-wrenching sob ripped from his throat— “they’re dead.”

  Tiki almost spilled Clara onto the floor. “What?” Visions of those beautiful creatures in the fields of O’Donoghue’s farm at the entrance to Wychwood Forest filled her eyes. “What are you talking about? Who killed them?”

  Tiki carried Clara on one hip as she went and crouched by Toots on the floor, putting her free arm around him. Clara clung to Tiki and wrapped her other little arm around Toots as far as she could reach, resting her head on Tiki’s shoulder.

  “Dain said Donegal did it.” Toots sobbed against Tiki’s chest. “He wanted me to tell you it’s only the beginning.” The young boy took a shuddering breath. “He said to tell you that Donegal will destroy everything of beauty in his quest for the Seelie throne.”

  “Shhhh.” Tiki rested her cheek on the top of Toot’s head and rubbed his back as she rocked, trying to calm him. “Don’t think about it. I don’t know why Dain would show you something so awful.”

  “Because—” Toots leaned back, his tear-streaked face a mute testament to his sorrow— “he said you’re the only one who can stop Donegal.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  “Tiki!” Rieker hurried into the parlor later that afternoon, an excited look on his face. He’d just returned home, his cheeks ruddy from the cold air. He gave no indication he’d been out of sorts the night before. “Can you join me in the study for a minute?”

  Tiki pushed out of the chair and followed his tall form down the hallway, pulling her black shawl tighter around her shoulders. Another storm was brewing over London and this one threatened snow. The temperature had dipped below freezing, almost unheard-of weather for late April in England. Even with the fires burning heartily it was hard to keep the cool air at bay.

  “I’ve got something to tell you, too.” She was still horribly upset by the fact that Dain had taken Toots without her knowledge and at the news Toots had shared upon his return. She’d been waiting for Rieker’s return to tell him.

  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.

&nb
sp; “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.