The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4) (29 page)

Chapter Fifty-Five

“
Clara.” It was a whisper.

The little girl turned from where she sat playing with Doggie in front of the fire.
It had been almost four hours since Tiki had dropped her off. She and the others had finished supper and were now gathered in the drawing room. Toots and Fiona were playing checkers on a table in the corner. Mrs. Bosworth sat nearby, intent on her stitching, while both Shamus and Mr. Bosworth snored from their chairs.  Clara smiled at the  familiar woman who stood in the hallway, a finger held to her lips indicating silence.  She beckoned with her hand.

Clara hopped up and hurried in her direction, her stocking feet silent on the wood floors.

“Hush, not a word now,” the visitor whispered.  She slid her long slender fingers into Clara’s little hand and led her down the hallway away from the others.

“
What are
you
doing here?” Clara whispered, unafraid. The woman knelt down and opened her arms.  Clara didn’t hesitate before throwing her arms around the visitor’s neck and hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you, Larkin.” She leaned back and ran her little hand along the woman’s cheek.  “I was afraid you were hurt.”

“
No, I’m fine, my dear, just as you are. But Larkin has gone—you may call me Breanna from now on. I’m going to stay here with you and make sure everything is all right until Tiki and William can come home and take care of you.”  Breanna gently pressed her lips to Clara’s forehead.  “Never be afraid again. You’ll be safe with me, my little darling.”

Chapter Fifty-Six

When she returned to the Palace of Mirrors
, Tiki arrived standing on the Dragon Throne. The room was chaos—men and women fighting and yelling, weapons clashing, shrieks filling the air. Smoke hung thick above the melee making it difficult to see. An UnSeelie soldier stabbed one of the Seelie fighters with his bayonet straight through the heart in front of Tiki. Instead of falling to the floor in a puddle of blood, the wounded man disappeared and in his place a leaf with a hole through its center drifted lazily to the floor.

“
Teek!” Rieker darted through the crowd toward her, his sword drawn to fend off any attacks. Dain followed close behind, protecting his back. “Teek—get out of here!”

“
Where’s Donegal?”

Rieker pointed to the far end of the Great Hall where the Winter King was being buzzed by three
large black birds. Donegal threw a fireball at them but the flames were met with a splash of water and turned to black smoke before they came close to the birds.

“
SHOOT THEM!” The Winter King screamed, turning for the door.

Tiki jumped down.
“We need to help Fial get him outside.”  She swerved through the masses toward one of the arches that led from the room. Once through the passageway, she sprinted down the grand hallway, Rieker and Dain close on her heels. She rounded the corner just in time to see Donegal run out through the huge double entry doors.

Tiki, Rieker and Dain
raced out the doors behind Donegal. The Winter King reached the stairs that led down to the Night Garden and came to an abrupt halt to survey the scene before him.  Fial sat on a magnificent black horse whose eyes were the color of fire. The beast snorted and smoke curled from his nostrils, pawing the ground as if anxious to run. Seelie guards stretched as far as the eye could see, cutting off any entry or escape from the palace. Behind the first wave of soldiers, another layer stood with their backs to the inner circle to guard against an attack from their flanks. Above the Tor, the sun shone in golden brilliance.

Fial flic
ked his wrist and a thin lead-laced braid of leather wrapped itself around Donegal’s neck.

“
Checkmate, dear brother,” Fial said in a cold voice.

Behind Donegal, t
he giant doors to the Palace slammed shut. More Seelie soldiers moved to stand in front of the barred doors.

“
Once again you’re fighting for the wrong side, Fial,” Donegal spat. “You’ll never learn, will you,
Fool?
”

“
Your words mean nothing to me.” Fial shrugged. “Your life means nothing to me.” He blew into his cupped hands and seven sleek black birds flew free, their dagger-like beaks flashing silver in the sunlight. Fial’s gaze narrowed. “But rest assured, I’ll show you the same mercy you gave Larkin and so many others.”

Donegal’s gaze rose to follow the flight of the birds that we
re now circling above the group.  “Your magic doesn’t scare me,” he snarled. “Those birds will dissolve in a puff of smoke at the slightest touch.” He tried to pull the whip away from his neck but the leather wouldn’t give. In frustration, he wrapped his hands around the whip and stomped down the stairs toward Fial, shooting a ball of fire at his brother. “Get out of my way.”

Fial deflected the fireball with a flick of his wrist then yanked on the whip, forcing Donegal to his knees before him.

Tiki called out. “Elder Dryad, heed my call. Today I fulfill my promise to you. Find me now, my friend.”

The UnSeelie King
grabbed the noose around his neck, trying to slide his fingers beneath the leather to loosen its grip. He stared at Tiki. “
You,”
he growled. “I should have known.”

The wind grew stronger,
gusting the leaves from the ground and swirling them in little whirlwinds. As if on command, the first bird dove—straight for the Winter King. Donegal swung around trying to defend himself against the attack, but the bird’s dagger-like beak sank into his shoulder before it dissolved in a puff of smoke. Green blood burst from the wound and ran down the UnSeelie King’s arm.

Fial snapped the whip free from his brother’s neck
as the other six birds wheeled around to position themselves to dive. A blast of wind shrieked through the trees sounding eerily similar to a woman’s laughter. Donegal clutched his shoulder and threw another fireball at the Jester, but Fial easily deflected the attack. The second bird dove, followed by the third, then the fourth.

The UnSeelie king turned and ran.  He
looked over his shoulder at the plummeting birds, unaware of the tree that suddenly stood in his path with a face visible in its dark bark. Its branches were outstretched like the arms of a lover. As he stepped near, the branches snaked around his body and yanked him toward the tree.

His scream was one of pure terror.
He struggled against the limbs that bound him, kicking and screaming, but in slow motion, the branches retracted back into the trunk of the tree, pulling the Winter King along. As he disappeared into the woody bark, a woman with hair the shimmering color of molten steel stepped away from the tree.

She glanced
down and felt her arms and legs before she threw her head back and screamed with laughter. “I am freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” The woman whipped around to face Tiki and bowed her head. “Our bargain has been met, Seelie Queen. Consider me a friend for life.”

Tiki
nodded at her. “A friend for life.”

The
witch laughed—a glorious, gleeful howl of laughter. “I will be back for you, sisters,” she called out, then snapped her fingers over her head and was gone.

A cry of terror erupted from the tree
where Donegal had disappeared. Tiki gazed back at the black eyes that stared from the trunk of the tree, making no effort to hide her loathing. She raised her hands.

“
I speak to you, Fire, as the element that can both create and destroy, to heed my command: light the bonfire that waits yonder and burn anything that touches the flame until there is only ash left for Air to scatter.”

A great mound of sticks
that Ailléna had gathered at Tiki’s request stood stacked in a pyramid nearby. As Tiki spoke, the wood burst into flame.  The fire leapt toward the sky, dancing and flickering like a hungry beast.

Fial stepped d
own from his horse and pulled a quiver free from the saddle and slid it over his shoulder. From the leather holder on his back he pulled a thin axe. His face was set with grim determination as he approached the dryad.

“
No,” Donegal shouted from within the tree. “What do you think you’re doing? Let me out of here! I COMMAND YOU TO LET ME OUT OF HERE!”

Fial threw the ax. It turned in perfect circles and sliced a limb clean from
the tree.

A hideous howl of pain
erupted, filling the sky. Fial pulled another axe free and threw again at the tree. “This is for my wife—” he threw a third— “and my children. This is for everyone you have murdered and threatened and tortured all these centuries.” As he reached for another axe, other axes flew through the air to join with his to slice the branches from the tree.

The ring of the axes as th
ey bit into the wood mixed with the screaming of the tree. When there were no branches low enough to entrap someone and pull them into the trunk, Fial drew the final axe.  He stepped close and with a mighty swing he buried the axe in the trunk. Other soldiers joined him—each taking turns burying their axes deep in the bark of the screaming tree.

“
Stop this!
STOP, I TELL YOU. WHERE ARE MY GUARDS? HELP ME! I AM THE KING!
”

A
s the crescent-shaped cut within the bark grew, a loud creak echoed as the tree began to sway.  Men pushed on one side of the trunk, while others continued to chop at the bark. The tree tipped further and further to one side.

“
I COMMAND YOU TO STOPPPP!”

W
ith a final woody
crack!
that reverbrated across the Tor, the tree toppled to the ground and was silent.

“
Chop it into firewood and take it to the fire,” Tiki called. The ring of the axes continued for another few minutes, then one by one the pieces of wood that had once been a tree were carried over to the bonfire and thrown into the flames. As each chunk of wood landed in the fire a spray of sparks and flames shot into the sky as if in celebration.

Tiki, Dain and Rieker pick
ed up the last piece together. She motioned to Fial. “Come with us.” They walked to the bonfire, heat rolling off the greedy flames like waves. “Ready?” Tiki asked, looking from one to the other.

“
Never more,” Rieker said.

“
Absolutely,” Dain said eagerly.

Fial nodded wearily.
“Let it end.”

They swung the segment of tre
e back and then together threw it into the fire. They watched as the orange flames of the fire licked the bark before it consumed the wood.

Tiki slid her hand into Rieker’s and reached over and took Dain’s.
Fial slid his arm around Dain’s shoulders and together they watched as the fire burned until there was nothing left but ashes.

Tiki spoke softly, but her words were heard by all.
“We are free.”

Behind them, the
Macanna, the hobgoblins, the soldiers and homeless faeries erupted in cheers.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

IT WAS TWO
days later that they gathered in the Palace of Mirrors.

“
Hear me one and all.” Tiki sat on the golden Dragon Throne in the Great Hall. She was dressed in a glittering gown of gold—in homage to Larkin—a golden circlet woven in her black hair. Rieker and Dain stood on one side of the throne, Fial on the other. Toran stood next to Fial and the Macanna proudly surrounded her. The dead had been removed and the hall was overflowing with all species of fey, stretching out the doors and filling the Night Garden that was now green and verdant.

“
I am Tara Kathleen Dunbar MacLochlan—Queen of Faerie.”

A cheer echoed through the hall, rattling the windows.

“I claim this throne in winter and summer, spring and fall. I claim it for both Seelie and UnSeelie—for everyone and anyone who lives here in the Otherworld.”

Another cry went up—louder this time.

“From this day forward we will be united as one court—one world. We will work together so that all may live in peace and harmony.”

“
TARR-UH, TARR-UH—” the chant started and swelled in volume.

Tiki held up her hand, waiting patiently until the crowd quieted.

“There is more—the most important part.  I will forever be your queen, but I have made a decision. I will lend my guidance, my strength and my love, but I will not rule over you. It’s time for Faerie to rule itself.

We will form committees and groups—a government of sorts—that w
ill be the voice of our people. You will select representatives to guide our world to a better future.  And to preside over these committees is the person I trust most in this world to seek and find the peace we all want. A man who is both Seelie and UnSeelie, who has the most knowledge of Faerie, the most wisdom to envision and guide our future. A man of honor and unbelievable strength— Fial Lasair Cathall Winterbourne.”