The Torn Wing

by Kiki Hamilton

  In the distance, white forks of lightning speared the sky. Fiona jumped as deep-throated thunder followed a second later. “Don’t you understand? She took her before. She’s a way for Larkin to get Tiki to do what she wants.”

  “Slow down now. Who’s this Larkin person yer keep referring to?” Mr. Bosworth looked from one to the other, the edges of his white hair lifting in the sudden breeze. “Is she a neighbor?”

  Toots kicked a leg over the horse and slid down from the saddle. He raced around the front of the animal and headed for the fence. “Thanks a lot, Mr. B.,” he called over his shoulder, “but we’ve got to go find Shamus right now.” He scrambled through the gate as Fiona climbed down. It only took Toots a moment before he was racing across the grass with Fiona, headed for the barn where Shamus worked on his furniture.

  Johnny tried to hurry with his crutch behind them.

  Left alone with the horse in the middle of the corral, Mr. Bos-worth frowned and rubbed the bay’s nose as he watched the receding backs of the children. “Guess we better go tell the missus.” He gave the lead a tug and led the horse toward the gate.

  Inside the barn, Toots and Fiona raced to Shamus where he sat sanding a flat piece of wood that looked like it could be a desk top.

  “Shamus!” Fiona cried as they slid to a stop on the straw covered floor. Her words came out in a rush. “Clara’s gone missing.”

  “What should we do?” Toots asked, his chest heaving to catch his breath.

  The tap-tap of Johnny’s crutch could be heard as he entered the barn.

  Shamus lifted his white-blond head and rested the slab of wood across his knees as he contemplated the three of them. “Have you checked with Mrs. Bosworth? Are you sure she’s not off playing with her wings somewhere?”

  Fiona jerked her head up and down, her brown curls waving with the movement. “She said she was going to call Larkin because she wanted to help Tiki—but I didn’t think she’d actually do it.”

  Shamus was silent. Knowing how he liked to think things over Fiona and Toots waited impatiently, the young boy hopping from one foot to the other.

  “Well, if Larkin has taken Clara to—” Shamus glanced at Johnny— “away, I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it but wait here. We’ve no way to follow and no way to get in touch with Larkin ourselves.” His lips twisted into a line of worry. “Unless the two of you can think of some other way to track Clara down, I think we’re stuck waiting.”

  “What about going to The Ring in Hyde Park?” Fiona said in a whisper. “The fey are always there during storms.”

  CONVINCING MR. BOSWORTH to let Shamus take a wagon loaded with children into London during a storm was not easy. It was, in fact, impossible. In the end, they had to sneak away. Fiona bit her fingernails down to the quick on the ride into the City, worrying about what the elderly couple would say when they returned.

  Thunder continued to boom overhead and the closer they got to London the more prominent the smell of smoke became.

  “What’s burning?” Toots asked, looking in all directions for the smoke that would indicate the location of the fire.

  “It must be a massive fire to smell all the way out here,” Johnny replied.

  “I wonder if Mr. and Mrs. B. know we’re gone yet?” Fiona said in a fretful voice.

  Shamus continued to drive, remaining silent.

  IT WAS SEVERAL hours later when they arrived in Hyde Park. Dusk was just beginning to set. Shamus steered the horses around the Serpentine to the area in the northeastern section of the park called The Ring. The leather rigging on the wagon creaked as Shamus pulled to a stop.

  “Which way?” Toots called.

  “Over here,” Fiona cried, as she jumped down from the wagon and headed toward a band of trees.

  “Should we just shout her name?” Johnny asked.

  “Larkin! Larkin! Larkin!” Their voices were sharp, desperate, like cry of birds. The name seemed to bounce across the park and disappear into the shadows under the trees as Fiona and Johnny went one direction and Shamus and Toots went the other. Over-head, thunder rumbled, like an answering echo.

  FIONA AND JOHNNY had been calling for almost twenty minutes when a tall man with black hair, dressed in a long dark coat and black trousers, approached. He carried a thin black cane and wore a black top hat, the dark colors making him blend with the rapidly approaching night. Like a leaf caught on the wind, he moved soundlessly toward them.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Servants moved among the tables in the great underground hall, removing dishes, filling wine glasses. They remained silent and didn’t make eye contact—making it easy to look through them. Tiki wondered who they were. Mortals? A lower class of faeries? One girl in particular had a familiar cast to her features, though Tiki couldn’t place where she might have seen her before.

  “Now, this is what we have to do.” Larkin rattled off orders. “Tiki needs to speak to the Macanna. She needs to show them her birthmark and convince them she is Finn’s daughter—” Larkin’s expression was steely with determination— “without her glamour.”

  A spider web of dread filled Tiki’s lungs making it difficult to draw a deep breath. She gave a short nod. “Fine.” There was no other choice.

  TIKI’S LEGS SHOOK. She stood in a small room with Rieker and Larkin, not far from the great hall where the Macanna were gathered. She had changed into a shimmering gown the color of ripe cranberries, shot through with threads of gold and glittering with embroidered gold sequins.

  “You need to shed your glamour here,” Larkin said. She was still draped in shades of black and grey – somehow making her form indistinct. “We need to reveal your true features to the Macanna so they know what you look like—who they’ll be protecting and fighting for.”

  “They still have to be convinced that I’m Finn’s daughter,” Tiki said.

  Larkin made a small noise at the back of her throat. “They’ll believe.”

  Rieker squeezed Tiki’s hand to reassure her. She clung to his fingers, trying to deny the fear that flooded her, threatening to drown her.

  “The first order of business is to shed that glamour,” Larkin said again.

  Tiki dug her fingernails into the flesh of her palms. Could she do it? What if she looked like a monster? She was so nervous she wasn’t sure if she could push one more word out of her mouth. “How?”

  “It might take a few tries since you’ve been subconsciously producing this glamour all your life. However—” Larkin reached into a pocket buried within the gauzy dark folds of her gown and pulled something free— “you’ve maintained your present image because that’s what you believe you should look like.”

  The faerie lifted a small, flat object. For a moment, Tiki thought it was a piece of painted wood, but as Larkin turned the object a shaft of light reflected off its surface and shot across the room. “I’ve this. Maybe if you know what you really look like, you’ll be able to shed the glamour more easily.”

  Rieker grabbed Larkin’s wrist to still her hand so he could see what she held. “What is it?”

  “It’s a mirror.” Tiki answered for Larkin. “It’s from the Palace of Mirrors, isn’t it?”

  Larkin smiled and for a second she was her old self: Enigmatic. Mocking. Breathtakingly beautiful. “I stole it especially for you, guttersnipe. I knew one day you’d be ready to use it.” She held her hand out, the mirror resting on her open palm. “Take it.”

  Tiki saw the glint of curiosity that glowed in the blue-green depths of Larkin’s eyes. “Take it,” she coaxed. “You must wonder what you really look like.”

  The mirror balanced on Larkin’s outstretched hand.

  Tiki didn’t move. Was she ready? This would change everything.

  She drew in a shaky breath. Her heart pounded so hard she feared Rieker would hear her ribs rattle.

  She snatched the mirror from Larkin’s hand and held it up to her face.

  Tiki blinked once.

  Twice
.

  Then exhaled in a sharp gasp.

  The face staring back was the girl she’d seen in the Palace of Mirrors right before Dain had taken her down the back hallway and out the side door. Without knowing it, she’d been looking at herself in one of the enchanted mirrors.

  Vivid green eyes stared back with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Large and almond shaped, they were emeralds glowing beneath sooty lashes. Skin as opalescent and beautiful as her mother’s well-loved string of pearls gleamed in the reflection. Her features were sharply etched by razor-sharp cheek bones, a thin straight nose and a lush mouth—one meant to be kissed— making her look older, and much wiser than she was. Yet, somehow, the face looked familiar, too.

  With a rush of unexpected emotion she realized she was as beautiful as Larkin. But where Larkin was blond and ethereal, she was darkly exotic and mysterious. What was the word Rieker had told her Prince Arthur had used? An enchantress.

  “Well?” Rieker burst out. “What do you see?”

  “We could look over your shoulder to see the reflection,” Larkin suggested.

  Tiki turned her head to the side and pulled her hair back, still staring into the mirror. “I’ve got pointed ears.”

  Rieker let out a sigh of exasperation. “What about your face? Will I recognize you?”

  Tiki dropped her hair and looked straight in the mirror again, contemplating his question. Though some of her basic features were the same—the color of her eyes, the shape of her nose had always been straight, but not quite as long or dramatic. Now, however, the sum of the parts caused her to look strikingly different.

  With a start, Tiki suddenly realized why the face in the mirror looked familiar. She dropped her hand to her side and stared at Larkin. “I look like you.”

  Larkin lids lowered and she gave what looked like a forced shrug. “I’m not surprised. You are my niece after all.”

  “You look like Larkin?” Rieker said in a dazed voice.

  Larkin ignored him. “Do you think you can shed your glamour?”

  “I can see a resemblance,” Tiki said to Rieker. She turned to Larkin. “I don’t know.

  “The glamour you wear now comes from the essence of your faerie soul. It will take a great effort to shift magic as profound and organic as that which you’ve accomplished for sixteen years.” Larkin’s tone was oddly respectful. “It is a powerful magic that can innately shift for that long.”

  “So what should she do?” Rieker asked.

  Larkin looked at Tiki. “Let the layers melt and peel away. Use the power of your mind to dissolve that which is no longer necessary.”

  Tiki thought of what Rieker had looked like when she’d first met him as a pickpocket. His face and clothes had been dirty, his accent rough. He’d had a dangerous air about him and Tiki had been unsure whether to trust him for the longest time. But over the days and weeks, as she had gotten to know him, the layers had peeled back and she’d found the true Rieker: A dependable, loyal, handsome young man.

  She brought the mirror up again and gazed at the alluring girl staring back at her. Her heart fluttered in her chest like the wings of a bird trying to break free. She closed her eyes to concentrate. It was time to find her true self. She imagined rain falling on her, rinsing her clean. In her mind, streaming torrents of water drenched her, flooding her with watery hands, washing away the illusion she’d been cloaked within.

  She imagined peeling layers back, like a flower unfurling, to free someone hidden within a skin that didn’t belong to them. A skin that held them captive.

  Tiki held her hands out from her sides, as if to shake the remnants away—to reveal the girl who had stared at her from the depths of that mirror. The air around her seemed to warm and the smell of clover filled the air as she focused her energy on the image she had seen—mentally releasing the past until she could feel herself becoming that person.

  “God bless the Queen,” Rieker said. “Tiki, is that you?”

  Tiki’s slowly opened her eyes. She felt different. Free, somehow. She saw Larkin’s stunned expression first. She had never truly seen the faerie look shocked before. As if she couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Rieker looked dazed, but there was a fire, a hunger, in his eyes that spoke louder than any words.

  Tiki glanced down at her hands. Her fingers were long and thin, much like Larkin’s. She reached up and felt the contours of her cheekbones and nose recognizing the face in the mirror by touch.

  “Teek—” Rieker seemed at a loss for words as he took a step towards her, his arms open— “You were beautiful before, but now—”

  Larkin blinked rapidly and sucked her cheeks in to hide any emotions she might be feeling. “Now—” she cut Rieker off— “you look like Finn and Adasara.”

  Rieker cupped Tiki’s face in his hands, a look of wonder in his eyes. He ran his thumbs over her eyebrows and along the side of her nose. “It’s you, but you’ve changed. You’re so… so…”

  “Faerie-like?” Larkin sounded annoyed. “We need to keep moving. Every second we’re here is another second that Donegal will gain more power, enslave another Seelie or murder a mortal.” She swept towards the door. “Come along.” Tiki didn’t move. “Is there some place where I can see myself first?”

  “This way.” Larkin motioned over her shoulder and jerked the door open. For the first time, Tiki didn’t worry about the blond faerie’s mercurial mood. Larkin never reacted in a predictable fashion.

  She led them down a hallway to another room. Rieker held Tiki’s hand as they walked. Out of the corner of her eye Tiki could see him casting quick glances at her.

  Larkin pushed open an unmarked door and led them into a furnished chamber. “There.” She pointed to an ornately framed mirror that hung on a nearby wall. Tiki approached with a confusing mixture of excitement and dread churning in her stomach. What if she didn’t recognize her own face?

  She hesitated then pushed herself forward. There was no time to waste on foolish fears. What was done was done. She moved in front of the looking glass. The girl from the Palace stood before her but now instead of looking startled, she had an air of confidence. She looked self-composed and sure of herself—almost regal.

  Tiki tilted her head to the side and was surprised when the image in the mirror moved too. It was her. She examined the arch of her slender neck, the cut of her jaw line. She put her face close to the mirror to stare at the dramatic green of her eyes. Even her hair appeared different—what had been dark brown waves before, like her mother’s hair, was now wild tangles of blackest ebony.

  “Did Finn have black hair?”

  “As black as midnight,” Larkin replied. Tiki wondered at the emotion she heard in Larkin’s voice.

  The contrast of the rich cranberry fabric of her gown gave her pale skin a luminescent glow, making her features appear flawless. Her beauty was mesmerizing in the most powerful way. But she recognized it for what it was: a tool to bend mortals to do her bidding.

  “Well? Are you satisfied?” Larkin spoke from behind her. “You bear a striking resemblance to Adasara, though your green eyes and black hair are all Finn.”

  How could she not be satisfied? She’d never dreamed in a million years that she could have a shred of the otherworldly beauty of Larkin, but now—

  SHE WASN’T SURE what to expect as Larkin led her back into the great hall.

  “We’ll start with the Macanna accepting you as the next high queen. Once we find the Stone of Tara then all of Faerie will be forced to bow to you as the Seelie queen. That is the way we will ultimately beat Donegal.”

  They entered from a passageway that was cleverly tucked behind several columns, almost undetectable from the huge room.

  Larkin led them to stand on the top step again, overlooking the tables. She grabbed Tiki’s wrist and pulled her to stand next to her on the steps. Rieker flanked Tiki’s other side, his tall form towering next to hers.

  This time there wasn’t a gradually quieting.

  T
he room went silent in a single instant.

  The silence was deafening as everyone in the room stared at Tiki. She tried to remain calm and unafraid, her fingers threaded together in front of her. She belonged here. She was one of them. And now she believed it.

  “Look.” A large man, his skin weathered and creased from years in the sun, sat near where Tiki stood. He pointed to where Tiki’s sleeve was pulled back, exposing her wrists. “She’s marked with an fáinne sí.” He turned and shouted to the room. “She bears Finn’s birthmark!”

  A buzz of whispers exploded throughout the room as everyone craned their necks to catch a glimpse of Tiki and her birthmark.

  Then a single voice shouted in a thick accent over the din: ‘TARR-UH.”

  Tiki jumped. It sounded like a battle cry.

  Rieker leaned close and whispered in her ear. “It’s your name.”

  “Tara is the place where our kings and queens have been crowned for centuries,” Larkin said quietly. “There’s a reason that Tara was the name given to you by your parents.”

  A great hulk of a man slid to his knee in front of Tiki.

  “My queen.”

  There was a shuffling across the room as everyone dropped down and bowed toward Tiki.

  Tiki sucked in her breath. A chill ran up her arms. Were these powerful beings bowing to her?

  “Rise and rejoice,” Larkin called out, raising her arms above her head. “Your faith and patience have been rewarded this night.” Her voice held a power and a passion that Tiki had never heard before. “Tomorrow—together—we reclaim our throne.”

  Another cry swept through the room, gathering momentum until the wooden rafters shook.

  “TARR-UH!”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “Are you seeking Larkin?” The killer’s voice was low, almost seductive. Johnny and Fiona whirled together to face him. Overhead the storm had moved closer and lightning split the sky in a jagged fork of white light. Thunder boomed loud enough to make the ground shake.

  Johnny limped towards the man. “D’you know Larkin? We’ve got a bit of business with her tonight. Be much obliged if you could point us in her direction.” Fiona tugged on Johnny’s jacket, pulling him in the opposite direction. He swatted a hand behind his back at her, trying to get her to release him.