The Faerie Ring (18 page)

“How come I’ve never seen a faerie?” Toots interrupted.

Rieker smiled at the young boy. “You probably have. You just don’t realize what you’re looking at. Sometimes a faerie will use magic to create a glamour, a humanlike skin, that they wear so they look like you and me.” He shifted in his seat, readjusting his leg. “Other times they cross over and don’t reveal themselves. Have you seen shadows move out of the corners of your eyes, or sparks of light? Then, when you turn, there’s nothing there?”

Toots’s eyes got wide. “I do see shadows move. I always thought I was just seeing things.”

“You won’t see them unless you’ve been given the sight.”

“The sight?” Fiona asked. She had crept out of the corner and now sat beside Shamus, staring transfixed at Rieker. “Tiki has told us lots of faerie stories. Is that when you can see into the faerie world?”

“Not quite.” Rieker shook his head. “No one can see into the Otherworld unless a faerie carries you over. But there are those that gain the ability to see the fey who have crossed over to our world.” He straightened his leg with a grimace. “It’s starting to stiffen up,” he said apologetically.

“I’ll get something to clean it with,” Tiki said. Glad for an excuse to get up, she hurried over to the cupboard. “Did talk of the faeries scare you, Toots?” she asked.

“No.” He curled his lip with scorn, but he remained silent beyond that and cast a cautious glance toward the dark corners of the room.

“Beatrice Wilson claimed to see faeries,” Shamus said. “Said they stole her baby.” His eyes narrowed as he gave Rieker a calculating look. “So how do you know so much?”

“I’ve learned things over the years,” Rieker said. “I met someone who taught me about the fey. I recognize the signs when I see them now.”

Returning to the table, Tiki pulled her dagger out of the little pocket in the back of her trousers and reached for Rieker. It was a subtle movement, but Tiki saw him flinch. “I have to cut away the fabric to clean those cuts on your leg.” She pulled her chair close to Rieker’s. “If we’re going to trust each other, we better start right now.”

“I agree,” Shamus said.

Tiki couldn’t stop herself from glancing up to see Rieker’s reaction.

Rieker’s shoulders relaxed and a rare smile transformed his features. He looked so much younger when he smiled. “Then we share each other’s trust from this day forward.”

“Could you tell us why you need to steal the ring again? It sounds like returning it to the palace is the safest place for it,” Shamus said.

“I am not stealing that ring again until I get paid for stealing it the first time,” Tiki muttered.

“First of all, if the royals don’t know where the ring is, then it’s considered unguarded and can be stolen,” Rieker replied. “Even if it is in the palace.”

“And second?” Shamus asked.

“I think the fey have found a way into the palace. Even if the royals knew where the ring was hidden, I’m not sure it’s safe there anymore.”

Tiki contemplated his words as she slipped the flat side of the knife inside Rieker’s torn trousers. A faerie spy within Buckingham? With a quick jerk, she brought the edge of the knife through the shredded fabric and made a neat slice through his trouser leg.

“You seem to handle that blade with ease,” Rieker commented. He grimaced as the back of the blade skimmed the top of his leg.

Tiki nodded. “Shamus has been teaching me. You can be sure I won’t be caught in an alley alone and unarmed again.” She gave Rieker a significant look. “One more cut.” She folded the cloth over the edge of the knife and sliced it neatly through the fabric. “There we go.” Tiki held up the square piece of material for a moment before dropping it on the floor. “Now let’s take a look at what we’ve got here.”

She leaned forward to inspect the three gashes down Rieker’s thigh. “These look deep. But these marks look different than your arm. Was this the same faerie who scratched your arm?” she asked.

“Marcus did this to my leg, tonight.” Rieker pulled the edge of the fabric back to peer at his exposed leg. “But Larkin was the one who scratched my arm. She can be vicious, though I think this was more a warning.” His lips curled down in a scowl. “She is particularly motivated. She’s even sought by her own kind.”

Tiki listened without commenting. The blond girl’s name was Larkin. A faerie. That would explain how she could disappear so quickly. But why would Larkin be following her?

“She?” Shamus said. “A girl did that to your arm?”

“Girl, woman.” Rieker shrugged. “Faeries don’t age like humans. Though she may look like a girl when she’s in her glamour, she is actually quite old.”

“And why is she after you?” Shamus asked in a quiet voice.

Rieker grimaced as Tiki dug into the wound to clean it. “It’s complicated. Larkin has shadowed me since”—he paused, a frown crossing his brow—“for a number of years now. At first I thought it was curiosity. But now I realize it’s something more.” His voice drifted off as he contemplated his words.

“Something besides the ring?” Tiki raised her head from tending to Rieker’s wound and looked him straight in the face. She sensed he wasn’t telling them the whole story.

“I’m not sure.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Did you say that you had seen her at the hospital?”

“Yes, I thought I did,” Tiki admitted. “I’ve seen her other places, too. I saw her in Potts’ bookstore once, and she asked me why I’d left Clara at the hospital.”

Rieker jerked forward in the chair. “She talked to you?”

Tiki gave Rieker a guilty look. “Just that once.”

“And what did you do?”

“I ran away.”

Rieker sat back in the rickety chair with a thump, causing the whole chair to shake unsteadily. “Don’t talk to her, Tiki. Don’t even let her know you can see her.”

“What does she want the ring for?” Shamus asked. “To end the truce so she can destroy you?”

Rieker’s lips tightened in a thin line, and his eyes were dark as he returned Shamus’s stare. “Perhaps.”

“So”—Shamus began again—“she’s after you because she believes
you
have information about the ring. You’re following Tiki because you think
she
has information about the ring. If Larkin is following you, have you led her straight to Tiki?”

“Of course not.” Rieker sounded defensive, and his eyes flicked uncertainly from Shamus to Tiki. “I’m protecting Tiki.”

Surprised, Tiki watched Rieker’s face for a moment. “But why? Why would you protect me?”

Rieker turned his dark eyes on her. A strange fluttery feeling filled her chest, and Tiki found it hard to draw a deep breath. For a moment everyone else melted away, and it was as though only the two of them were in the room. She stared back, the slow thud of her heart suddenly noticeable in her chest.

“Because”—Rieker’s voice softened—“you need protection. You don’t seem to understand what you’re part of.”

Tiki busied herself with tending to Rieker’s leg. “It doesn’t matter now, Shamus,” she said. “What is done is done. The truth is, I did have the ring and maybe somehow Larkin knew that. What we have to figure out now is how we get paid for returning the thing and to stop the fey from stealing it.”

She pushed her chair back and stood up. “Now, take your trousers off.” The shocked looks on both Shamus’s and Rieker’s faces made her laugh out loud. “I have to wrap these wounds, but I can’t do it with your trousers on,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “You’re going to have to take them off and tie a blanket around your waist until I’ve got those cuts wrapped, then you can put your trousers on again.”

Rieker complied, and Tiki finished wrapping his leg.

“Do I need to be looking over my shoulder for this Larkin creature?” Tiki tried to sound nonchalant.

“You’ve got to be on your guard. Larkin is vicious and volatile. Until the ring is either in the fey’s possession or the flame in the heart of the ring is extinguished, they are bound by the truce, so I don’t think she can kill you. But she can make your life miserable. And Larkin has a temper.”

Tiki glanced at Rieker out of the corner of her eye. Larkin couldn’t kill her? Was that supposed to be reassuring? Tiki turned away and busied herself by stoking the fire in the small box stove. Could this all be a ploy to collect the ring and claim the reward for himself?

She eyed the bandage wrapped around his leg and decided Rieker wouldn’t stoop to the level of injuring himself to make her believe him. Besides, she had seen Marcus and Larkin for herself tonight. She shivered at the thought of their eerie shadows in the alley, almost like wisps of air, yet deadly real at the same time.

Tiki’s thoughts drifted to Clara. She was anxious to visit her again. If Clara continued to improve, the little girl would be ready to come home in the next few weeks. That meant Tiki needed to collect the reward soon so she would have a decent home for her return.

“All right, Tiki?” Rieker interrupted her thoughts. “Are we in agreement that we need to secure the ring again? To protect the truce?”

“But how would we do that?” she asked.

“There are ways,” Rieker said confidently. “Is there any chance that the ring will be found by someone in Buckingham first?”

“No.” Tiki shook her head.

“Then we need to find a way back in so you can recover the ring from wherever you’ve hidden it.”

“Are you daft?” The words exploded from Tiki’s mouth. “How in bloody hell would we get back into the palace? I don’t think the royals are planning on having another masked ball anytime soon.”

Rieker stood to face her, towering over Tiki. Toots and Fiona both scooted back toward the corner. Shamus pushed his chair back with a low screech and stood, too, almost as tall as Rieker.

“You’re clever, Tiki. I’m sure you can find a way to sneak in again and grab the thing and get out,” Rieker said. “Or if you tell me where the ring is, maybe I can find a way.”

Tiki took a step back, uncertainty bubbling inside her. Was this his plan? To get her to reveal the location of the ring?

“I’ll help you, Tiki,” Rieker said softly. He held his hands out to her. Tiki wavered. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to do the right thing. But what about Clara? She had to find a better place for the little girl to live. Someplace warm and clean, with food in the cupboards. And the only way to get that was with money. She couldn’t just walk away from the reward, could she?

“Teek?” Shamus asked softly.

“All right,” Tiki agreed. She would go along with Rieker for now, just so she wouldn’t have to keep arguing with him. But if the opportunity presented itself, she was going to claim the reward, whether Rieker liked it or not.

Chapter Eighteen

R
IEKER
was gone the next morning, almost as if he’d never been there at all. The only sign of his presence was the bloodstained coat he’d left behind. The shredded sleeve flopped over Tiki’s arm as she picked it up and smoothed the fabric. For a second she held the lapel close and inhaled Rieker’s scent, imagining him standing before her again.

After folding the garment neatly, she stacked it in a pile with the blankets. She could wash the jacket and Fiona could stitch the sleeve and the coat would be good as new. If Rieker didn’t want it anymore, maybe Shamus or Toots could use it.

*   *   *

S
EVERAL
days later, Tiki walked over to Mr. Potts’s bookstore.

“The royals are back,” Mr. Potts said as she walked in the door.

She looked up in surprise. “I thought you said they’d be gone for a couple of weeks.”

Mr. Potts reached out and smoothed a stack of newspapers. “Bad storm up in Scotland.” He coughed as he shuffled down the row of papers, straightening the already straight piles. “Guess they’s afraid the river’s goin’ta flood.” Finished with the row, he sat down on his stool. “Plus, I ’eard Queen Vic’s been ill.”

“How do you know all that? Is it in the daily?” Tiki asked, scooting over to scan the headlines.

“Dickey’s brother-in-law works up at Bucking’am, and I ’eard a bit from ’im.”

“Oh,” Tiki said, trying to hide her elation at the news that the royals had returned. “I brought your book back.” She smiled brightly, holding up the thin tome for him to see.

“Eh? Which one was that?”

“
Emma
by Jane Austen.” Tiki moved around the counter into the shop and shoved the book back in the proper slot on the shelf.

“Oh, right. That one.” Mr. Potts gave a half-laugh. “That story’ll teach yer to not meddle in other folks’ affairs, eh?”

“Yes, that’s for certain.” Tiki grinned at him. “I won’t be trying to find a match for you, Mr. Potts, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The old man was suddenly seized with a fit of coughing. “God bless the Queen, I should ’ope not,” he finally choked out as he wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “You can borrow another one, then.” He pointed a crooked finger toward a lower shelf. “What with Christmas around the corner, you might want to try one of those. You’d probably like
The Cricket on the Hearth.
”

“Oh, my father read that one to me a few years ago.” She squatted down to look at the lower shelf. “It was one of our favorite Christmas faerie tales.” Spotting the title, she slid the book off the shelf and flopped the pages open in her hands. “My father was a barrister, you know. A practical man, but he loved to read faerie tales. He and my mum both.”

Tiki sat back on her heels and gazed up at the old man. “Sometimes I think they really believed in faeries. Almost like they knew something more than just the stories they were telling me.”

Mr. Potts raised a shaking hand and smoothed the few hairs that were left on his bald pate. “There’s an awful lot of faerie tales out there. It’s hard t’believe they’re all spun outa whole cloth.” He shuffled away as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation.

Tiki snapped the book closed and pushed up to her feet, wondering at his strange comment. “I’ll take this one,” she said, sliding the book inside her jacket. She smiled at the old man. “The Cricket should bring back good memories. Thanks, Mr. Potts.”