The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4) (27 page)

Chapter Fifty-One

“
Breathe— in and out,” she commanded herself as she rode away from the stronghold of the Plain of Starlight. “He would not kill a little girl. She is more valuable alive than dead.” She bit her bottom lip to stop the sobs that roiled in her chest. “Larkin told me so,” she whispered, swiping tears from her cheek with the back of her hand. “Breathe—in and out. She is more valuable alive than dead.” She urged her mount faster. Aside from the pictures, there had not found any evidence that Rieker, Dain and Clara might be in that location. The only prison left was the Palace of Mirrors.

AS WINTER HAD grown stronger the Night Garden had become a frozen sculpture—ice encased every thorn, bramble and bloom.  It was in the hour before midnight that Tiki went back to Wydryn Tor disguised as she had been when they’d visited the palace with Larkin glamoured as Fachtna. She looked like a small UnSeelie male with a large, hooked nose and white hair pulled behind her neck. Her eyes were black rather than vibrant green and her shoulders bore a slight hunch, stretching the folds of her worn jacket.

Dark shapes of Donegal’s soldiers patrolled the garden, something Tiki had never seen before.
She had passed groups in the forest, as well. Luckily, as a lone traveler she had remained unseen where they had been many and easy to hear from a distance, allowing her to circumvent their path.

She crouched low
on the pathway and made herself as small as possible, praying she could avoid detection. Raucous noise rolled from the Palace of Mirrors as Donegal’s followers celebrated the Winter Solstice—the longest night of the year. Out in the Night Garden where Tiki crouched hidden, it was oddly silent—as if the world held its breath. She was counting the number of guards that surrounded the perimeter of the palace when a scratchy voice spoke close by her elbow.

“
Alms for the poor?”

Tiki nearly screamed from fright. She whirled around to stare into a bone-thin face. The hooked nose and
fanged lower jaw were unmistakable.

“
Ailléna! What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

The little Redcap recoiled in surprise, her shaggy eyebrows pulling down over her n
ose in confusion. “Do I know yer?”

“
Oh.” Tiki put her hands to her face as she remembered her glamour. Did she dare tell the Redcap who she was? Could Ailléna help her find Rieker and Dain? She made a split-second decision. “It’s me—Tiki.”

Ailléna tilted her head, her large hooked nose curling in doubt.
“Who?”

“
The Seelie Queen.” Tiki mouthed the words but the frown on Ailléna’s face got deeper. “Yer are not my queen.”

Tiki looked around in frustration.
“Are you alone?”

The look on the Redcap’s face turned to uncertainty.
“Yes.”

Tiki whispered the words to remove her glamour just long enough for Ailléna to recognize her.
“You helped us find
Corn na bhFuíoll
—
the Cup of Plenty
after it became lost.”
When the Redcaps sizeable mouth dropped open Tiki quickly reapplied her disguise.

“
Jumping Jack-in-Irons,” the little goblin gasped, “what are yer doin’ out here, Majesty? 
Alone?
Donegal has his soldiers everywhere looking for yer, the Jester, anyone Seelie.  Yer shouldn’t be here mum.”

“
I need your help.”

“
Certainly, Majesty.” Ailléna bobbed her head up and down, as she glanced over both shoulders with a look of apprehension. “Whatever yer need.”

“
First of all, you can’t call me that anymore,” Tiki whispered.

“
Yes, mum—but what should I call yer?”

“
Anything but that. How long have you been here on the Tor?”

“
Since Donegal burnt the fields ‘roun’ the Plain of Sunlight.” She shook her wizened head. “T’wern’t safe to stay without Larkin to protect me—” she hung her head—“bein’ a Redcap an’ all.” Her lower jaw began to tremble. “I still can’na believe she’s gone—” she gave a great shuddering sigh.

“
I know.” Tiki closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but it did no good for Larkin’s face was always there—looking back at her with sardonic amusement. How the faerie would have laughed to know the sadness Tiki felt at her departure. “I will make Donegal pay,” she promised.

“
But why are yer here, alone Maj…er..uh..sir?”  She crept up next to Tiki and stared through the frozen brambles toward the palace. “Yer can’na be planning to attack the Winter King on yer own? That’s madness.”

“
No, I’m looking for my friends—Rieker—you remember him?”

Aillena nodded.

“And Dain—”

The Redcap gave Tiki a hideous grin revealing all the fanged teeth that jutted over her upper jaw.
“The handsom’ one.”

“
And there’s a child—Clara—I don’t think you’ve met her—”

“
The mortal girl Donegal stole from yer?”

“
Yes,” Tiki said, “that’s exactly who I’m looking for—have you heard anything?”

The little goblin loo
ked all around before she spoke and when she did Tiki could barely hear her.  “The rumour is that while Donegal was fightin’ with Larkin somebody tried to cut the girl from her trap.”

Tiki’s heart caught
. “What happened?”

“
I’s just ‘eard the whispers outside the kitchens an’ whatnot, but they say the ones who tried to cut ‘er free are strung up in the Great Hall and the little ‘un is still hangin’ in the golden net.”

“
She’s alive?” Tiki’s heart soared before it promptly plummeted. “Strung up?”

“
The last I heard she’s alive but I can’na be sure. The other prisoner’s hands are tied by ropes so they can’na move.”

Tiki took a
shuddering breath. It was as she’d feared. That explained why no one had found her—they were all being held captive. It would be up to her to set them free.

“
And what of Donegal?”

“
I can’na say for sure, mum, but I’ve heard he’s been in meetings in the High Chamber since….since…” the goblin rubbed her clawed hands together— “the passin’.”

“
Since he murdered Larkin, you mean.”

The little Redcap
averted her eyes. “Yes.”

“
I’m going to need your help, Ailléna.”

“
Anything, Majesty, but yer know I can’na go into the palace right now—they’re not lettin’ anyone in who isn’t part of Court.”

“
I know. That’s all right. Here’s what I want you to do….”

ONCE SHE HAD given instructions to the goblin, Tiki cut through the frozen Night Garden toward the Palace of Mirrors.  The garden was eerily quiet as she made her way close to the side of the building and as she passed one of the luminescent blooms encased in ice she realized why it seemed so silent—the garden wasn’t singing—the ice had muted their song.

Tiki drew in a deep breath of the cold air. Somewhere along
the building there was a door. She’d escaped out of the palace through it once with Dain.  Now she needed to find it to sneak
into
the palace.

MORE THAN AN hour had passed and Tiki still hadn’t located the door. The side of the building was immense and the brambles seemed especially thick close to the palace.  The thorns tore at her clothes like tiny fingers and her teeth chattered with cold.  Frustrated, she closed her eyes and tried to envision what she had seen when Dain had led her from the palace that night when they’d escaped from Donegal. It had been dark and the path had led through a maze of brambles for a short time before they’d reached the steep edge of the Tor.

‘
You have to jump.’

Tiki’s eyes flew open. She remembered. Dain had led her to th
e edge of the cliff where a secret path twisted down the side of the Tor. The door had not been far from the spot where Dain had told her she had to jump. If she started at the edge of the mountain, maybe she could work her way back to the door that led into the palace.

The moon had crested and begu
n its downward descent, peeking occasionally through the layers of dark clouds that gathered above the palace.  By the shadowy light, she wound her way to the edge of the mountain which cut away in a sheer drop. She inched forward to cautiously peer over the cliff. A wrong step and she would plummet to a sure death. Below, she could make out the tops of the trees of the Wychwood Forest. Cut out of the side of the mountain was a rocky little trail.

This was it.

She searched the area where she stood. In the distance, the Palace of Mirrors loomed. From the perspective it didn’t take long to find the path that stretched back toward the building. Tiki followed the trail, ducking under thorny branches that were thick enough to be tree limbs.  She kept a constant lookout for any guards or soldiers who might be patrolling the Garden but she was alone.

The trail woun
d back and forth but it wasn’t long until Tiki stood next to the palace. The building was elaborately decorated. Among the arches and columns were figures and gargoyles carved into the ancient stone. In some ways the facade reminded Tiki of Westminster Abbey. But among the ornate design there was nothing that looked like a door.

Tiki chewed her lip
in frustration. Why couldn’t she see it? She had to get inside—it had to be here. She imagined the grand hallway lined with doors. Dain had taken her through the last door—where was it?

S
uddenly the answer hit her—Larkin had spoken of those thirteen doorways, and especially the doorway that led up to Fial’s spying post
—‘I’m surprised you were able to find it. Fial had concealed the entrance with powerful magic. You should have been diverted to the Night Garden.’
The Jester, so much more powerful than they had ever guessed, had protected all those doorways with some kind of concealing magic—both inside and out—she was sure of it.

She began assessing the building again—but in a differe
nt way. This time she tried to see through a glamour. “I can do this,” Tiki whispered to herself. “I am the true-born queen, I can see through glam—” she stopped as something peculiar caught her eye. She studied that section of the wall. Between each of the elaborately turned round columns were shadows—with straight lines. Shadows of straight lines that round columns wouldn’t cast. She glanced down the side of the building and counted the strange sets of lines—thirteen. A thrill of excitement shot through her.

She’d
found them.

Tiki
made her way to the last section and studied what she believed to be the door.  There was no obvious handle—no way to gain entry.

“
Think like the Jester,” she whispered to herself— “how would Fial disguise the handle?” The door was incorporated into the arches and peaks that made up the building. Tiki studied the intricate architecture. The answer was before her—but where?

Then she saw it—carved within a
small, four-sided floret sat a man wearing a familiar three-point hat. In one hand he held a staff with a Celtic cross at the top—just like the pin Rieker had found in the Jester’s spying room—and in the other he held two large keys.

Tiki held her breath and reached for the keys. She wrapped her fingers around the cool stone and pulled. As silent as a whisper the door opened.

She was in.

Chapter
Fifty-Two

Tiki peered around the edge of the door. She was in a shadowed space behind one of the many huge columns that lined the hallway.  She slipped inside and pulled the door closed. In the distance the raucous noise of the celebration in the Great Hall spilled down the hallway like water tumbling over a riverbed.  She glanced around the column and into the hallway.  A pair of UnSeelie lords, their heads bent together deep in conversation, strolled toward her. Behind them a faun pranced alone, a petulant look on his face. Up ahead, two guards stood at the entrance that led into the Great Hall. Another pair stood at the entrance at the other end of the hallway.

Tiki thought fast.
She would need an excuse to enter the Great Hall to see if Rieker, Dain and Clara were really being held as Ailléna had described. In a moment of inspiration she whispered the words and changed her glamour. Taking a deep breath, she rounded the column and walked down the hallway as if she belonged here at the UnSeelie Court. She ignored the guards and made to pass into the Great Hall but they moved at the same time and dropped their speared staffs to block her way. The taller of the two spoke first.

“
Name yourself.”

Tiki arched a thick
woody eyebrow and stared him in the face. “Really? You don’t recognize me?” Her blood was ice in her veins and all the anger and hatred she felt towards Donegal fueled the emotion in her voice. “I suggest you learn before I’m forced to teach you.”

“
She’s
Fachtna
,” the other guard muttered. “Donegal’s witch.” He flipped his spear upright to allow passage.

“
Precisely.” Tiki nodded at him. She turned back to the first guard and pointed a knobby branch-like finger that ended in a razor-sharp tip. “Perhaps I’ll take your left eye to add to my collection and you may keep the scar—the better to remember me next time.”

Th
e guard jerked his staff away and stepped back.

Fachtna inclined her head ever so slightly
but her expression didn’t soften. “A wise decision.” Tiki swept past them into the Great Hall. She hadn’t taken two steps when her gaze was drawn upward toward the ceiling. There, to the right of the Dragon Throne, suspended high above the crowd like some kind of ghastly chandelier—was the golden net. Inside the ropes, a small body hung there, curled in a ball like a little kitten.

Clara.

A wave of such immense relief went through Tiki her knees went weak. She couldn’t see the child’s face, but the curve of her back, the blond curls that poked through the net, were unmistakable. Clara was alive.

Tiki dropped her eyes and
forced herself to keep walking. How was she possibly going to get Clara down without being seen? The room was crowded with all manner of cavorting UnSeelie fey. Guards were plentiful too, watching the goings-on with grim expressions.

Shaken,
Tiki glanced toward the Dragon Throne and stopped dead in her tracks. Behind the throne stood Dain and Rieker. Ailléna had been correct—they were ‘strung up’—both held captive by ropes that bound their wrists above their heads. Guards stood on each side of them. Tiki didn’t give herself time to become scared. Larkin wasn’t here to be brave for her anymore. She had to be brave for herself.

She sauntered
toward the prisoners, quickly debating how she could possibly get them free. Both Dain and Rieker had their heads down and hadn’t seen her yet. A million questions swirled through her head. Did they know Larkin was dead? Would they recognize her in this glamour? What clue could she give them?

“
And here we have the traitors.” She spoke in the same arrogant voice that Larkin had used when disguised as Fachtna. Actually—Tiki mentally corrected herself—Larkin had sounded arrogant all the time. Yet, somehow it pleased her that in this moment she could pull off the same level of confidence that Larkin had exuded all the time. Perhaps she had learned more from the faerie than she realized.

A
t her words, both Dain and Rieker raised their heads. She saw a flash of recognition in Rieker’s eyes before they went blank again. She leisurely circled him as though assessing his worth, then pivoted to walk in a figure eight around Dain.

“
What fun and games does Donegal have planned for our little pets?”

The guards glanced at each other.
“He hasn’t said, mum, but I believe they’re bait for the Seelie Queen.”

“
Her
.” Tiki sneered. “She’s not smart enough to confront the Winter King in his own Court now that Larkin is dead. Your prisoners might starve to death before
she
ever shows up—and then what good are they to you?”

One of the guards coughed
. Thickly built, with hair as black as a tar pit, he reminded Tiki of a bulldog. “You’re right. She’s probably hiding in London as she likes to do.”

The other guard snickered.
He was smaller than either Rieker or Dain, but well-muscled and armed with multiple knives embedded in leather straps that crisscrossed the front of his chest. The blades glittered in the torchlight.

“
You’re right, mum. We should probably feed ‘em to the hounds like his Majesty did with the Jester.”

Tiki stopped and pointed a branch-like finger at him.
“Now that is a brilliant idea.  Did you see it? Did the hounds like the taste of the Fool’s flesh?”

The guards cast a wary glance at each other.
“Didn’t actually see it, but we all heard his cries when the hounds got him. Screamed like a little girl.”

A chill crawled up Tiki’s arms.
Who had Donegal really fed to the hounds—and how callous and uncaring could these men be? But they were UnSeelie—they’d been taught to murder and kill their entire lives. Even if she could get rid of Donegal and created one realm—could they be taught to live a different way?

Tiki tossed her head at the prisoners.
“Are they wounded?”

The
black-haired guard jabbed the wooden end of his staff into Dain’s ribs. “Not enough.”

Dain’s body jerked with the thrust but he closed his eyes and clamped his lips shut.

“Donegal wants me to bring the prisoners to him,” Tiki snapped. “A little interrogation, I believe.”  She held out her hand. “Give me their ropes.”

“
You can’t mean to take them yourself,” the smaller one cried. “They could attack you.”

“
She’s Fachtna—” the other one whispered. “They wouldn’t dare.”

“
Thank you for your concern, but I don’t think these two—” she sneered down her nose at Dain and Rieker— “are much of a threat to me. Besides, I’m not taking them far.” She snapped her fingers and chains appeared around the ankles of both young men. “There—I’ll fetter their feet if it makes you feel better.” Tiki looked over at the guards. “The ropes, please?”

The guards look warily at each other.

“Perhaps we should escort you,” the shorter one said

“
No need.” Tiki motioned at the ropes that held their arms. “Cut them loose.”

Th
e shorter one shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  “But it’d be our heads if they escaped or did any harm to you, mum.”

Tiki reached out and her branch-like arm extended until the kn
obby limbs of her fingers tightened around the guard’s throat.  “And it will be your head if you don’t do as I ask.”

The panicked look on the guard’s face convinced the other to act.  He hurried to the wall where the ropes where tied to a pulley and released the lever. As soon as the tension released,
both Dain and Rieker’s shoulders sagged. They grimaced in pain as they slowly lowered their arms below their heads.

Fachtna
stepped close and glared at both of them. “Test my patience and you will be dead faster than you can say
Fate never crushed those who Truth never deceived
.” She yanked the ropes out of the guard’s hands and tugged Dain and Rieker behind her. “Follow me.”

EVERY EYE IN the room was on them as Fachtna led the shuffling prisoners out of the Great Hall. Tiki fought the terrible sensation that the guards were going to call her bluff and attack from behind.

“
Make way,” she snapped, pretending she was Larkin and shooing people out of her way as they wove through the crowd. The guards at the entrance stood straight as she led the prisoners through the passageway into the corridor. She gave the ropes a light snap as she turned toward the Royal Chambers. “Hurry up—The Winter King is waiting for us.”

“
Fachtna!”

Tiki jerked around
in surprise.  An unfamiliar guard dressed entirely in black hurried toward them. Long, straight black hair was pulled behind his head. He wore a gold pin against his chest and gold buttons shone from his vest. Fear coiled in her stomach. Tiki had never seen a guard dressed such as he, but the black and gold were too similar to the way Donegal dressed not to be of concern. Whoever he was, he was a man of power.

“
Come with me.”  It was a command. “Donegal has left his chambers. He has requested your counsel in another location.”

Tiki t
ried to hide how tense she was.  “And who are you?”

The man
stopped before her, his gaze briefly assessing Rieker and Dain, before he gave Tiki a stiff bow. “Perhaps you don’t remember our previous introduction.  I am Kieran.”

Tiki blinked rapidly
to hide her shock. “I do remember you now—as I recall, you were impertinent the last time we met.”

His nostrils flared as though he found humor in her comment but his lips didn’t smile
. “One of my many flaws. Come,” he turned and beckoned to her, “we must not keep the king waiting.” As he straightened Tiki was able to get a closer look at the gold pin on his breast.  It was a golden circle, with a man in a sitting position holding a staff topped with Celtic cross in one hand and keys in the other.

Tiki pointed down the hallway toward the thirteen doors.
“Lead the way.”