The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4) (25 page)

Chapter Forty-Five

Tiki’s last glimpse of Larkin
was of the faerie in Fial’s arms. With her golden hair hanging long over the Jester’s arm she had looked like a princess—or a queen.  Her head had been tucked against his shoulder like a sleeping child, hiding the ghastly wound to her neck, and at last, there in his arms, her exquisite face had been at peace.

AMID THE CHAOS of the fighting, it was apparent the UnSeelie soldiers greatly outnumbered the Macanna. Tiki gaze swept the dead and wounded that littered the Night Garden.

W
hat had it been for?

Donegal and Sullivan had both escaped and Larkin was dead.
She could only pray that Rieker, Dain and Clara were still alive.

“
Majesty.” Fingers gripped her arm and Tiki whirled, prepared to strike. “You must leave the battlefield. Come with me.”  Toran peered anxiously into her face. “Quickly, please. We are being defeated.”

Tiki knew without looking further that he was right.
“Brave Macanna,” she called out, her voice echoing over the Tor.  “RETREAT!”

As quickly as they had emerged from the forest,
the Macanna melted away and disappeared.

SHE PROMISED TORAN she would return to the Plain of Sunlight soon and transported amid his protests. She traveled to the stonecutter’s cottage on the slim chance that Rieker and Dain might be there with Clara but the room was empty and cold, a few dead leaves resting on the hearth.  She only stayed long enough to collect the Cup and the Faerie Queen’s mirror before she transported to the one place she felt safe.

TIKI HAD NO idea how long she sat huddled in the dark corner of the abandoned clockmaker’s shop in Charing Cross. She lit no candles. Time had ceased to exist. Wrapped in her cloak and shaking uncontrollably, she clutched her knees and leaned her head against the wall, wishing for sleep to take away a reality she didn’t know how to deal with anymore.

She didn’t know where to find Rieker or Dain
—didn’t know if they had escaped with Clara from the Palace of Mirrors or not. She didn’t dare visit Shamus, Fi, Toots and the Bosworth’s for fear she would be followed. Larkin was dead and Fial had disappeared. Even Johnny and Toran were hiding somewhere in the Otherworld.

She was utterly
alone.

TIKI DRIFTED IN and out of consciousness as the tears seemed to flow without end. She was drowning in a terrible grief that pulled her down until it was as if she was trying to breathe underwater. Those last moments with Donegal and Larkin replayed over and over in her head—what could she have done differently? How could she have saved Larkin? But she hadn’t known Larkin was even in the Palace—hadn’t known she would step in and try to save her.

Fial’s fa
ce haunted what little sleep Tiki did find and after the shaking and the tears stopped, the things he’d said began to reverberate in her head like the pounding of a kettle drum. To find the Jester was in love with Larkin wasn’t that much of a shock—the fact that Larkin had insisted on trying to save him had been immensely revealing— but in the end, when he’d called her
Breanna
—

Tiki rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.
Even in death Larkin was an enigma. The only Breanna Tiki had ever heard mentioned was Lady Breanna of Connacht—Dain and William’s
mother
—

A seed of doubt sprouted in her mind. Larkin had said that Breanna was
murdered, but what if she hadn’t been? What if Breanna had simply ceased to exist as she was forced to assume a new persona—just as Fial had become Kieran and later the Jester—

Tiki’s thoughts raced, one after the other.
What was it Fial had said—that he and Larkin had sacrificed those they loved most—
their children
… Dain and William were Fial’s sons and Clara was Larkin’s daughter….what if….

She
imagined Dain’s handsome face, his blond hair and blue eyes—not like Fial’s at all, but exactly like Larkin’s—
and
Clara’s.

Tiki’s
breath caught in her throat. Larkin had never said who Clara’s father was—was it possible? Could it be Fial? Were William and Dain Clara’s
brothers
?

The more Tiki c
onsidered the idea, the more it made perfect sense. Had Larkin hidden Clara in London for the same reason they’d split up and hidden the boys? For fear that Donegal would hunt them down and kill them for their mixed blood?

What has my brother done?

Fial’s anguished question played over and over in Tiki’s ears followed by Donegal’s voice:

Now she taunts me and spies on my Court with my
brother
.

P
ieces of the puzzle began to slowly click into place. Breanna and Fial had fallen in love—a forbidden love because of their different heritages—and Fial’s family had tried to kill them because of it. Fial was a Winterbourne—an UnSeelie—Donegal’s brother.  It had been the Winter King who had been hunting them. Larkin and Fial had been spies in what was, for them, the most dangerous place in the world. All for a promise made to Eridanus, Finn and Adasara. A promise that couldn’t be fulfilled without Tiki’s help.

Tiki pushed herself to her feet and paced to the back of the small room.
It was as if Larkin whispered in her ear:

He has lived between two worlds and belonged to neither for most of his life—all for the sake of a promise made long ago. Those who have known his secrets and his sacrifice have been murdered one-b
y-one: Finn, Eridanus, Adasara—even Breanna—until only he and I remain.”

And what was the promise
? Tiki had asked.

To stop the killing and reunite the courts as one.
To live side by side with the mortals in peace. And most importantly—to create a future where one wasn’t labeled Seelie or UnSeelie, but simply as fey.

Tiki stopped next to the makeshift table—a plank that
sat upon an overturned fruit crate— and fingered the Luck of Edenhall. Her hand slid over to the mirror and raised the ornately framed glass. Her reflection looked back, thinner than she remembered, but just as striking and beautiful—just as powerful.

Who are you?
She had asked the mirror and Fial, on his sick bed, had answered:
The Faerie Queen.

“
And so you are,” she whispered to her reflection.

IT WAS LATE when she transported to Dunvegan Castle. She was dressed to blend with the shadows as she gazed around the now familiar courtyard, looking for any sign of Rory Campbell. A light shown from the caretaker’s apartments and some of the tension released from Tiki’s shoulders.

She hurried toward the Faerie Tower, instinct guiding her in that direction.
She was a faerie queen, surely she—if anyone—would be able to find a faerie treasure.  Her feet made a light slapping sound on the stone steps as she climbed to the tower built for the lost wife of the MacLeod ancestor. She mentally recounted their conversation with Norman MacLeod. What clues had the man let slip while they spoke to him in London?

The flag is safe and those within our
Clan who need to know, are aware of its location—that’s all that matters. But I will tell you this—the silk lies within an iron chest below the sign of MacLeod and awaits our return. Am Bratach Sith is in a place protected by those who gave us the flag in the first place. Only those who know where to look could find our treasure.

The cathedral within the Faerie Tower had seemed to be the perfect place to hide a faerie treasure—had they simply missed the hiding spot?
Tiki pulled open the plank door and once again was struck by the serenity of the room.  Moonlight shown through the large stained glass window at the far end of the hall, illuminating the room.

Tiki walked slowly to the offering table, running her hands along the long expanse of wood searching for any clues. She tried to unglamour the bowl once again with no success. She walked up and down
the small rectangular room looking for what she had missed.

Where was it? 
Was the flag hidden somewhere else in Dunvegan? But Rory had intimated they’d built the faerie tower specifically for this prize.  The moon rose higher in the night sky as Tiki continued to search. Desperation began to churn in her stomach. She didn’t have time—Clara and Rieker and Dain were missing—they were waiting for her to save them, but she couldn’t do it without the Flag.

Tiki stood at the offering table and searched once more for a clue.
Anything.
But there was nothing. With a growl of frustration she banged her fists on the table. “Where are you?” she shouted. But her plea was only met with silence. It was obvious the flag was hidden somewhere else in the castle.

Tiki whirled around intending
to stomp to the door and exit when she froze. The moonlight streaming through the window cast the design of the lead glass in clear silhouette on the stone floor before her.  There in the middle was the crest and motto of the MacLeod Clan: a bull’s head between two flags and the words ‘Hold Fast’.

Within an iron chest below the sign of MacLeod.

If she hadn’t been standing in that spot at that exact moment, she would never have seen the shadows cast by the moon.

Tiki rushed to the
area where the motto shone upon the floor and fell to her knees. Slipping her fingers between the cracks of the stone she searched for any loose spot where she might find purchase.  It only took a moment when her fingers found the cleverly hollowed out section where she could jiggle the stone enough to get a grip.  With both hands she hefted the piece of flooring and set it next to where she kneeled.

Her breath caught in her throat.
There, hidden in a small hole in the floor, rested an iron chest.

Very carefully, Tiki lifted the chest free
, the metal hot against her skin, as she set it next to her on the floor. Its surface was carved with the Celtic knot of the MacLeod clan. Ever so gently she lifted the lid of the small chest and laid it back flat against the floor.  Inside the red velvet lined chest was a folded piece of delicate golden fabric with knots of red stitched into its surface.

Her fingers trembled as sh
e lifted the silk free. She’d found the Fourth Treasure—The Faerie Flag of Dunvegan.

Chapter Forty-Six

Tiki
went first to Charing Cross and retrieved the Cup of Plenty where she had glamoured it as a plain green vase. The Faerie Flag was neatly folded and tucked deep within her bodice, hidden beneath her clothes. The Ring of
Ériu,
hung from her neck. The Stone of Tara had cried out her name for all to hear. She had recovered the Four Treasures of Faerie. And now she was prepared to call upon whatever powers the Four Treasures might offer to a true-born queen to save her family and crush Donegal forever.

She did not allow herself to waiver with worry. She needed to focus on how she was going to save them. With great care she laid out the still-furled Faerie Flag, the Cup of Plenty and the Ring of Ériu on the small makeshift table within their hideaway. For good measure, she added the Faerie Queen’s mirror to the mix and waited.

Nothing happened.

She rearranged their order and sat back, her gaze shifting from one to the other, unsure of what to expect but certain that
something
would happen.

It didn’t.

“Bloody hell.” She ground her teeth together as she tried stacking the Treasures on top of each other by putting the flag and the ring into the cup and then putting the cup on top of the mirror.

Nothing.

After searching for so long to locate the Four Treasures, it had never occurred to her that she wouldn’t know what t
o do
with them once she found them.

ONE HOUR STRETCHED painfully into another as she examined each piece, searching for answers, yet the Treasures yielded no secrets. She looked into the depths of the Ring where the fire still burned, albeit feebly, but no knowledge was conveyed.  She lit a fire below the ring and tried to smoke a secret free—but nothing was revealed. She didn’t dare wave the Flag and possibly use its last bit of magic, but the silk alone appeared to only be a section of fabric. She gazed into the Faerie Queen’s mirror but her reflection stared back providing no answers.

In desperation,
Tiki picked up the small glass vase. She couldn’t continue to waste time here. She needed to be looking for Clara and Rieker and Dain.  She turned the Cup this way and that, the candlelight reflecting off the colors.

“
The Luck of Edenhall,” she mused out loud. “As
Corn na bhFuíoll
,
the Cup of Plenty, you are said to offer healing, inspiration, wisdom and sustenance. Johnny was healed by drinking from you. We received inspiration by looking into your depths. The starving fey need sustenance, which is why I think we smell food when they’re around you.”

She turned the glass in her hands.
“But I need wisdom.”

Tiki stared at the fragile
goblet. “As the true-born queen I ask you—how do I find the wisdom you might offer?” She slowly turned the vase, the greens and blues and browns of the glass glittering in the light. What did she need to do?

M
ovement close to the rim caught her eye.  She squinted at the space below the fragile twist of gold where lines of small scroll now swirled around the Cup. Tiki pulled the glass closer to read the script.

“
As the Stone of Tara represents Earth,” she whispered, “the Ring of Ériu represents Fire, the Faerie Flag represents Air and the Cup of Plenty represents Water. The Four Treasures embody the Four Elements—the essentials of Faerie life. As you command the Four Treasures—Earth, Air, Fire and Water are also yours to command.” There was a signature below the words—could those letters read Eridanus? Tiki’s heart skipped a beat. It was as if the past had whispered in her ear and Eridanus had spoken directly to her.

BLACK THUNDERCLOUDS WERE still gathered in the distance at the top of the Tor when Tiki returned to the Plain of Sunlight. The bodies of the Seelie guards who had been impaled upon the stakes had been pulled down but what remained was utter devastation. She remembered the first time she’d visited the Plain with Larkin—it had been a sunlit meadow dotted with wildflowers. The soothing sounds of a river passing had been background music to the lilting songbirds who trilled and called to one another. The place had been the very essence of summer.

‘
Look around,’
Larkin had said at the time.
‘Memorize this spot— because for now this is the safest place we’ve got. Make sure you can visualize it— you may need to find your way back on your own at some point.’

A chill raised the flesh on Tiki’s arms. The faerie’s words seemed oddly prophetic now—though under no circumstances would Tiki have ever imagined that the meadow she had seen that day could ever look like this.
Now the fields were burnt and dotted with charred stubs of tree trunks. No sounds were audible—even the gurgle of the nearby river couldn’t be heard. It was like some sort of ghastly graveyard.

With a heavy heart,
she slipped through the rock archway that led down into the Seelie headquarters unsure how many, if any, of the Macanna and Seelie soldiers had returned.

“
Majesty!”

Tiki whirled to find Toran
bowing before her. He raised his head revealing a terrible gash across his forehead and two hideous black eyes. Seemingly oblivious to his wounds, he clasped his hands in joy. “We didn’t know where to look for you—I didn’t know what had become of you! Please allow me to guard you from this moment forward.”

“
Toran,” Tiki gasped. “You’re wounded.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment.
“It’s nothing, your Grace, especially given what some have suffered.”

Tiki nodded.
“True, but I’m so pleased to find you, especially, are all right. Where are the Macanna? Are there any left?”

“
A few, but we’ve lost many.”

Tiki bit the corner of her lip to fight back tears as she imagined those strong warriors she’d met with Larkin. It was hard to believe anything could stop them.

“Some have returned here,” Toran continued. “Others hide in the Wychwood in small groups. Donegal’s troops are everywhere—searching for anything Seelie. They kill before they ask questions.  We’ve all been waiting for your return to lead us against this great evil.”

Tiki nodded.
“And that is exactly what I plan to do.  Send word—I want as many troops as we can gather. We are going to create an army who will win this war.”

“
An army?” Toran’s voice raised with hope. “How? Has Larkin found some new volunteers?”

His words hit with an unexpected bite and for a moment Tiki couldn’t think of a reply. Instead, she
motioned for Toran to follow her and continued on down toward the hall where the Macanna had gathered in the past. She straightened her shoulders as she spoke over her shoulder. “No, it’s my army. Get word to our generals—I want them here as soon as possible.”

AS NEWS OF the queen’s return spread, more Seelie fey arrived at the Plain of Sunlight. Each day, as arrivals straggled into the stronghold, Tiki met with each newcomer and asked for word of Rieker and Dain, of the small blond girl who Donegal had captured, but no one had news. At the end of each day she went outside and walked a short distance over a small hill where she wouldn’t be seen and practiced.

The first time she stood tall and held her arms out.
“I speak to you, Air, as the breath and wind of all things living, to heed my command: breathe a chill onto the ground before me until the earth in that spot is coated in frost.”

A gust of wind had ruffled through the leaves of nearby tree
s. When the breeze hit her, Tiki shivered at the intensity of the chill. In a blink the wind was gone, but the ground at her feet had turned to white and was crusted in ice.

At night she cried herself to sleep, worrying about Clara and Rieker, Dain and the others. In her heart she was certain that if they were free, they would have found her. Which could only mean one thing—Donegal had them.

The next day she had practiced with fire. “I speak to you, Fire, as the element that can both create and destroy, to heed my command: burn these sticks at my feet until they are nothing but ash.” There was a
pop
and a flame began to crackle at the bottom of the small stack of tree limbs Tiki had propped together.  As she’d watched, the flames hungrily consumed the wood, orange tongues shimmering and dancing before her.

She thought of Larkin and Fi
al frequently. The questions that had always surrounded Larkin continued to swirl, even in death. The worst part—Tiki had the unsettling sense that she’d been horribly wrong about the faerie. She was coming to believe that Larkin had been forced to play her part so convincingly that no one would have ever guess at the truth of her identity or of those she loved. If Larkin was Breanna then she had made the ultimate sacrifice in letting others raise her children.

The third day
was the easiest when she commanded Water to fall from the sky and a rainstorm fell in a torrent around her.

The remainder of the generals,
MacKenzie, Burns, Connelly, Keegan and Finnegan arrived on the fourth day.

“
Have them gather in the hall,” Tiki told Toran. “I’ll join you shortly.”  She hurried outside and moved quickly to the stand of trees that had been unaffected by the fires. She stood in the dappled shadows beneath their limbs and took a deep breath.

“
I speak to you, Earth, as the element that provides strength and life to all manner of plants and animals that live on and within you. I command that you bring to me an army of one.”

At her words a breeze fluttered through the branches above, causing the leaves to chatter
, as if speaking in a language all their own. A single leaf blew free from its anchor and drifted to the ground. The second the leaf touched the ground it transformed into a warrior. Bare-chested and dark-skinned, he wore leaf-patterned trousers. He was tall and thin, like the tree from which he had sprouted, with a sinewy strength that rippled in his muscles when he moved.

He bowed.
“My queen, I am yours to command.”

Tiki exhaled slowly. She had found the Four Treasures and now she could command them.

“Come with me.”

TIKI STOOD ON the steps that led into the common room. Large and filled with plank tables, great wooden rounds of candles hung from the ceiling making the room as bright as a summer’s day. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever have imagined she might be standing here alone planning to lead these men and women in war. But that was exactly what she intended to do.

“
I will be brief.”

The room went silent.

“For those of you who don’t know me, I am Tara MacLochlan, Queen of the Seelie Court.I have been so named b
y
Cloch na Teamhrach
,
The Stone of Tara, and I claim my rightful place to lead and rule. We are gathered here today to put an end to the tyranny of the UnSeelie King and the indiscriminate killing that is occurring in Donegal’s quest for power. He is not a true-born king, he has not been named by
Cloch na Teamhrach
and he will be tried and punished for the deaths he has caused.”

Cheers went up in the room.

“We have suffered losses and face an army that greatly outnumbers ours—but when the day comes and the battle begins, I promise you that we will have the strength to prevail. For now—work together to gather enough food in the forest so we can be prepared to attack and reclaim Faerie.”

“
Where’s Larkin?” A man called from the back. “She’s been our leader all the while you’ve been gone. We need her too.”  Tiki pressed her lips together. Given all the times she had loathed Larkin so thoroughly that she had plotted to never see her again, Tiki was shocked at the sense of loss she felt at the faerie’s death.  As happened so often now, memories of Larkin’s voice whispered in Tiki’s ear,
‘Ah, guttersnipe, you’ll come to love me one day.’
Tiki shook her head, trying to shake the voice away. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

T
he crowd remained silent, watching her.