Rise of the Darklings (25 page)

“But … even if any of this is true, why didn’t you just ask me? Why go to all this trouble? If all you want is to get home—”

Queen Kelindria laughed.

“Home? My dear, I do not want to go
home
. That story I told you about us dying was a lie, part of the ruse. I want to open the doorway and bring my armies through. I want London destroyed. I will wipe out your people. It will be as though you never existed! You do not belong here, Emily Snow. This world was ours long before you crawled out of the swamps. We will take back what belongs to us.” She paused and smiled coldly at Emily. “And you will help.”

“I wont. I—”

The Queen pressed the blade deeper into William’s flesh. He groaned softly.

“Wait!”

The Queen pulled the point away.

Emily looked around, tears blurring her vision. Corrigan was nowhere to be seen. She stood alone before the Queen.
She didn’t know what to do. If she helped, she could be responsible for millions of deaths, but if she didn’t help, the Queen would kill William right before her eyes.

“Come now,” said the Queen. “I grow impatient.”

Emily stared at her brother. It was no choice, really. She couldn’t watch her brother slaughtered. She just couldn’t.

So she looked up and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll help.”

The Queen smiled. “Good girl.” She held out her hand, and the Dark Man placed something into her palm. Emily saw that it was the blank piece of parchment that she and Corrigan had taken to Underlondon. The Queen offered both the parchment and the stone to Emily. “Read it,” she ordered.

Emily took the stone and parchment from the Queen’s fingers and hesitantly raised it to her eye. What if it didn’t work? What would happen to William? To her?

But she needn’t have worried. As the hole in the stone drew level with her eye, the parchment changed. Black lines appeared, smudged and blurry as if someone had spilled water on fresh ink. But then they sharpened and formed into recognizable words, laid out in short lines like the poems she used to read at school.

“Do not think to deceive me,” snapped the Queen. “Just read what you see or your brother dies.”

Emily swallowed nervously. “It says …

Emily slowly lowered the stone. The Queen was frowning.

“What else?” she asked.

“Nothing else. That is all there is.”

The Queen slammed her hands down hard on the throne. “Do not lie to me!” she screamed. She snatched the stone from Emily’s hand. “That doesn’t make any sense!” She held the stone up to her eye, looking at the parchment. Then she screamed in frustration and threw the stone to the floor.

She grabbed Emily by the chin, her fingers digging painfully into Emily’s cheeks.

“I advise you to think very carefully. Either you tell me everything that is on that parchment, or I kill your brother.”

Emily pulled back, feeling the Queen’s nails scraping on her skin. “I’m not lying to you! That’s all it says.”

“Then you have until this time tomorrow to figure out what it means.” She gestured to the Dark Man. “Take them to their cells.”

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

I
n the darkness of her cell, Emily finally allowed the tears to fall. She’d held them in as long as she could, but it was just all too much. Everything that had happened over the past day—all the surprises, the fear, the worry, came out in a flood of bitter tears that she couldn’t stop.

She’d always known life was hard. It was simply one of those things you had to accept. But up until now, even after all that she and William had been through, she’d never thought of it as cruel. Yes, there were times when they were both hungry and cold. But they got through it. Because that was what you did.

But now, for the first time ever, Emily actually felt defeated. She could see no way out of this. Either she figured
out the stupid riddle and many people died, or she didn’t figure it out and William died.

What kind of choice was that?

Emily sniffed. It was all that stupid Corrigan’s fault. If she had never found him in that alley, none of this would ever have happened.

And what was all that rubbish the Queen said about waiting two hundred years for Emily? It didn’t make any sense. None of it did.

Emily sniffed again, willing the tears to stop. What if someone walked in and saw her like this? She hastily wiped her eyes on her coat. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Emily sighed and looked around her prison. There wasn’t much to see. Just four walls and a floor. They hadn’t even given her a bed.

A small amount of light filtered in through a narrow slit in the door, and she examined the walls more closely, wondering if she could somehow tunnel her way out.

But even that slight hope was soon dashed. The earth was so tightly packed that she doubted she could make a dent even if she had a spade. She tried to knock on the hard earth, hoping that William could hear her in the next cell, but all she heard was a dull thump. The walls were too thick even for that.

Emily retreated to the middle of the room, glaring at the
gap in the door. The fear and self-pity she felt were changing, disappearing. She could feel them draining away, pushed out by something else, something she knew she would be able to use to combat whatever lay ahead.

Anger. Total and utter anger.

How dare they kidnap her brother? How dare they trick her into doing their dirty work? Just who did they think they were, using her like that? She would not stand for it.

Somehow or other, she would get free. Then she would take William to a safe place and …

And what? What would she do? She supposed hiding was one option. If they couldn’t find her, they couldn’t decipher the clue. Then they wouldn’t ever find the key. Maybe she should leave London, head to Scotland or Ireland. She once heard her ma say they had family over in Ireland.

She wasn’t sure. As long as it foiled the Queen’s plans, she wasn’t fussy.

Emily sat down against the wall, trying to think of a way out. She yawned, exhausted. She hadn’t yet had a proper sleep. She’d only managed to get a few hours’ rest before she and Jack broke into Somerset House. She’d managed to keep going, but only because events had propelled her forward. But now …

Her eyes drifted closed. She tried to force them open again, but they closed one last time, and Emily fell fast asleep.

A noise woke her. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ground. She must have lain down sometime. She yawned and sat up. How long had she been asleep? She felt refreshed and invigorated. Not that it would do her any good, stuck in here.

A second later she realized the noise she had heard was a key turning in the lock. She scrambled to her feet just as the door swung open, flooding the small cell with lantern light. There was a figure silhouetted in the doorway. She couldn’t make out the features, but the height and stance identified him immediately.

“Corrigan,” she said in disgust. “Go away. And tell your Queen to get someone else to bring any messages. I won’t deal with you.”

Corrigan stepped inside the cell. As he came closer, Emily could see him more clearly. His face was pinched with worry. He looked nervously over his shoulder. “Queen Kelindria doesn’t know I’m here,” he said.

Emily scowled. “What are you talking about?”

Corrigan tried to smile, but it faltered and died on his lips. “I’m here to rescue you,” he said.

“You’re
what
?”

Corrigan took another step into the cell. “I didn’t want
this,” he whispered urgently. “The Queen said I had to tell you the Unseelie took your brother. And that the stone would help find him. That was all. I didn’t know she was going to threaten him. Or lock you up.”

“Oh, really? And what about her plan to bring her armies through?”

“I didn’t know about that, either. Look … most of the fey just want to get home. We don’t want to stay here. It’s cold and wet. Your lot are welcome to it. All this talk of invasion … it’s not what we want, all right? If we had the key to the door, we would leave, and we would lock it behind us. We don’t want to conquer your people. That’s too much like hard work.”

Realization dawned on Emily. “This is another trick.”

“What?”

“You’re trying to trick me again. The Queen sent you, didn’t she? She thinks I’ll believe you. That you can ‘rescue’ me, and I’ll find the key, and … and then you can just take it away from me. Just like you did with the stone.”

“No, it’s not like that. I know I don’t have any right to ask you to trust me—”

“Correct.”

“—but it’s the truth. I swear.” He stepped forward until he was only an arm’s length from Emily. “Let me help you. I can get you out of here, take you somewhere safe.”

“And William?”

“Yes. Your brother, as well. I would have come hours ago, but the Queen was keeping an eye on me.”

“Hours ago? How long have I been asleep?”

Corrigan shrugged. “It’s dark out now. The day’s come and gone. You were brought to your cell just before dawn.”

“Dark?
You mean I’ve been asleep all day?” That meant the Queen would be coming for them soon. They had to get out.

But still Emily hesitated, staring at the piskie. She didn’t trust him. She couldn’t, not after what he had done. But he offered a sliver of hope, and that sliver was more than she’d had a minute ago. If she could at least get William to safety, then that was one less thing to worry about. Then, well, then she would see.

“Fine,” she said abruptly. “Get us out of here.”

Corrigan grinned, and just like that he was back to his familiar, cocky self. “Wait here,” he said, and hurried to the door. He peered outside, then turned and winked at her. “You owe me for this, you know.” Then he was gone before Emily could think of something suitable with which to respond.