The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4) (14 page)

Chapter Twenty-
Three

The Jester lay on his side in the dark cell, the cold stone absorbing what little warmth remained in his body. There were no windows in his prison, save for the barred viewing slot in the door and the small pass-through for food at the bottom. He’d overheard the guards discussing his fate: to be fed alive to the hounds at the full moon, less than a week away.  The cruelty of his punishment didn’t surprise him—his brother had always been cruel—that had never changed over the centuries.

Fial’s
gaze swept what he could see of the small cell without moving. It hurt too much to move. They had beaten him half-unconscious before dragging his limp body to the hidden dungeon. He doubted that word would get to Larkin of his fate, but he had to try, just in case. She was his only hope.

He ground his te
eth together against the pain to raise his battered, shaking hands toward his mouth, trying to ignore the burn of the iron against his wrists. He started to inhale but his breath caught as a knife-like pain stabbed him between his ribs. He tried again, barely opening his mouth and attempting to resist any movement of his ribcage. When he had sufficient breath gathered, he blew into his dirty, cupped palms and slowly rubbed them together. A snow white dove emerged from his fingers, one wing broken and dangling at its side. Fial cursed under his breath as the bird attempted flight but awkwardly fell to the floor where it dissolved in a puff of smoke.

The Jester’s body
sagged against the unyielding stones. Every breath he took hurt. He brought his shaking hands to his mouth again and closed his eyes against the pain.  Ever so slowly, he inhaled deeper this time then blew flame into his fingers. As the fire diminished, a small, but perfect, white dove perched there.

“
Find the dove with the heart of a fox so that she may find me,” he whispered.

The bird flew around the room in one great circle before it flapped through the slot in the door and disappeared.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Tiki, Rieker and Dain watched as Larkin marched into the Great Hall, her glamoured hair fluttering behind her.

“
We need to split up, too,” Dain said. “I’ll go on my own since I know the UnSeelie palace better than either of you.  The two of you need to stick together.  If you find something, make the cry of the raven—I should be able to hear you.”

Tiki frowned.
“Are you sure? I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Dain’
s gaze shifted to Tiki’s. “Don’t worry. I know my way around here, but your kind heart is always a pleasant surprise and reminds me that I do have a family now. For that reason, I will take great care.” With a nod, he strode away toward a motley contingent of guards who stood near a short stairway that led down to an area where weapons were cleaned and stored. As he approached, Dain raised his hand and called out. Whatever he said made several of them laugh and they willingly cleared a path for him.

“
He seems to be blessed with the tongue of an Irishman,” Rieker said, staring after his brother.

“
He is charming,” Tiki agreed. “I hope he knows what he’s doing.”

“
He lived a double life for many years.  He doesn’t seem afraid.”

“
As you should well know,” Tiki said in a dry tone, “lack of fear does not equate to good sense.”

Rieker grinned, his sallow, pock-marked face stretchi
ng in a fearsome expression. “Ah, but a good adventure outweighs good sense or fear any day.”

Tiki rolled her eyes
.  “Where do you think we should look?” She peered through the open doors into the Great Hall.  The discordant strains of an out-of-tune fiddle floated out the door, making her teeth grate. A raw smell permeated the air—a strange combination that reminded her of charred meat and fresh blood. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “There are a lot of people in there, but an almost equal number of soldiers. I doubt they’ll tell us anything.”

“
I think we need to go explore while Lar—” Rieker caught himself— “
Fachtna
keeps Donegal distracted.” He pulled Tiki away from the grand room as the screech and howl of other instruments joined in the cacophony of noise. They walked down a spacious hallway lined with doors on one wall.  “What areas of the palace could Donegal keep a prisoner out of sight for days and weeks or even months?”

“
I don’t know. The palace is large but I’ve never seen anything that looks like a prison. The Tor is solid rock, there’s nothing below the palace. That’s why the kitchens, stables and housing for the slaves are built to one side.”

Rieke
r nodded. “And the barracks for the soldiers couldn’t possibly hide a prisoner.”

“
No. Definitely not. Considering how many soldiers Donegal has forced into service I doubt half of them could fit into those buildings.” She pointed straight ahead. “As you know, that way leads to the ruler of Faerie’s chambers and beyond that are mostly offices and drawing rooms.” She pointed the other direction. “The High Chamber of Lords and Ladies is that way.” She gazed one way and then the other with a look of dismay. “I’m not sure where to even start.”

“
Where do these doors go?” Rieker pointed at the long row of doors that stretched down the hallway.

“
I know one leads outside to the Night Garden. Dain took me that way when we escaped from Donegal my first visit. I don’t know about the others. Do you think one leads to a prison?”

Rieker walked over and yanked the closest door open to view the moonlit shadows of the Night Garden.
“Not that one.”  He walked down the hallway to the next door and pulled it open.  Again, the barren, gnarled branches of the Night Garden were lit by a waxing moon and could be seen swaying to the muted sound of music emitting from the flowers. “Not that one.”  He strode down the hall opening door after door, but they all led to the same place. “Clearly, this hallway won’t lead us to where we want to go.”

They began to walk again, their heads bent together.
“Did the Jester have rooms of his own?” Rieker asked.

“
I don’t know—it never came up in conversation. I only saw him in the Great Hall or the High Chamber.”

Rieker jerked his head up.
“What about the High Chamber? Maybe they’re keeping the Jester hidden there.”

Tiki imagined the room where the Lords and Ladie
s of the Seelie Court met to discuss the business of the realm. Many of the rooms in the palace dripped with gilded opulence—soaring columns and elaborate decoration—but the High Chamber was like stepping into the shaded comfort of a wooded glen.  Spongy moss coated the floor and the babbling voice of a nearby brook trickled over stones.  Lilting birdsong floated among the branches that stretched overhead. It was as far from the normal sense of the word ‘room’ as one could get. Though Tiki had never explored the chamber beyond the large plank table where she met with the Lords and Ladies, the wooded space appeared to go on forever.

“
Do you think there could be a prison hidden within the High Chamber?”

Rieker shrugged.
“Why not?  It seems large enough.”

“
William, you’re brilliant,” Tiki breathed. “I wonder if there are guards watching the doors.”

“
Only one way to find out.”

TIKI HURRIED AFTER Rieker as he strode down the hallway toward the High Chamber. Squeaks from a flute pierced the air with knife-like stabs as cellos, fiddles and harps strummed in a frenzied pace as if to keep up. Tiki could just imagine the harried dance that might accompany such music and gave silent thanks she wasn’t in the Great Hall with Donegal and his UnSeelie Court.

She hurried after Rieker, anxious to hide within the High Chamber. She felt too exposed out in the open passageway.
They were barely a third of the way down the immense corridor when an odd sound caught Tiki’s ear. She cocked her head, trying to differentiate what she’d heard from the musical din that crashed down the hallway behind them but it was impossible.

The sound came again and
this time she knew immediately what she’d heard: the low growl of a dog with deadly intent.  Tiki jerked around just as two hellhounds, teeth barred and jaws snapping, broke into a gallop, headed directly toward them.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tiki didn’t have time to scream. She reacted purely by instinct. She clamped a han
d around Rieker’s wrist and tugged him across the hallway. She yanked open the nearest door and dove into the dark space, pulling Rieker along behind her. Using her foot as they fell forward, Tiki slammed the door shut just as the first dog reached them. The door rattled upon impact as the dog crashed into the wood, followed by a loud
yip
.

Instead of falling into the Night Garden
as she had expected, they collided much more abruptly with a set of stone steps.

“
Umpf!” Tiki cried as her head cracked against the hard surface. Rieker landed next to her, his breath forced out in a sharp exhale.

“
Ouch,” Rieker said, rubbing his ribs as he pushed off the stairs to stand up. He held a hand out for Tiki. “Are you all right?”

Out
side the door, the dogs could be heard sniffing and one had begun to howl. Before them a set of stone steps stretched up in a circle above their heads and disappeared out of sight. A wavering light from above cast enough light to navigate the stairwell.

“
Where in bloody hell did those dogs come from?” Rieker said. “And why are they after us?”

“
Let’s keep moving,” Tiki replied in a low voice, starting up the stairs. “We’ve got to get out of here.”  Tiki climbed as fast as she could, keeping one hand on the curving wall of the stairwell.

“
Where are we going?”

“
I have no idea but those dogs are Bearach’s hellhounds. Dain thinks Donegal has set them after me—they first showed up in Grosvenor Square just after you’d left for Scotland. They must be able to smell my scent through the glamour. We’ll need to divert them somehow.”

“
That much seems obvious,” Rieker muttered as he followed her up the stairs. “Unless you have a spare leg you can offer up in sacrifice.”

Tiki smiled desp
ite the tension that crackled inside her. “I’ll get back to you about that one.”  By the time they neared the top of the stairs her breath came in short gasps. They stepped onto a small landing that led to another door.

“
Where do you suppose that goes?” Rieker whispered as he looked around. “And where are we? We opened every one of the doors in that hallway and they all led to the Night Garden. Where did these stairs come from?”

“
I don’t know, but we can’t go back, so I guess that means there’s only one direction for us to go.” Tiki stepped forward and put her ear to the door, but she could hear nothing. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and took a deep breath. “I am the queen,” she muttered under her breath, “I can protect us…” but she didn’t believe it for a second. Not in the palace while Donegal ruled.

W
ith a quick movement she twisted the handle and tugged on the door, but it was locked.  She pulled again, harder this time, but the sturdy wooden portal wouldn’t budge.

“
Let me try,” Rieker said, edging closer. He wrapped his long fingers around the bronze handle and gave a forceful yank. But the door remained unyielding. Rieker released his grip and stepped back, sizing up the frame that held the door in place. In a smooth motion, he stepped forward and kicked the door open, the wood giving way in a wrenching
crash
.

Tiki jumped in surprise.
“All right then. That’s one way to do it.”

Rieker raised the thin black eyebrows of his
unattractive glamour. “When you can’t go back one must go forward…”

“
Funny.”

He stepped into the room and stopped.

“What is it?” Tiki crowded close to look around his shoulders. Deep crimson carpet, shot through with what looked like gold stars, reached to the far end of the long room. The carpet was rich and sumptuous, giving the room a luxurious air, but it was the rest of the space that made Tiki’s jaw sag in surprise.

Her
first impression was of a cathedral, for the walls were covered in a magnificent array of stained glass windows. Even the floor was covered with a million pieces of colored glass artfully arranged in design after design. The craftsmanship was so fine some of the windows appeared to be paintings, each meant to tell its own story—some achingly beautiful, others ghastly.

Tiki
followed Rieker into the room. “What is this place?”

“
I don’t know,” Rieker said, “but you can be sure it serves some purpose.”

“
Who could have created all of this?” Tiki turned in a slow circle. The room appeared to have been made from colored glass. “It’s beautiful in a haunting sort of way.”

Rieker walked along
the perimeter of the room as Tiki walked down the small carpeted paths between the windows. Black dogs with snarling fangs and red glowing eyes growled up at her; knights with blades drawn fought to the death while others lay with heads severed; Mothers cradled their babies, arcs of light behind their heads; Lovers entwined; A young boy on bended knee being knighted by a king; Forests, waterfalls and towers, witches and dryads, demons and mortals. All manner of fey—immortalized in time.

She
stopped at one window. Depicted by the fine pieces of cut glass was the image of a queen, her hair neither brown nor blond, her face neither young nor old. She appeared to be carved from pale marble, a golden crown encrusted with jewels sat upon her head.

“
I’ve seen this one before,” Tiki whispered, as she got down on her knees to run her fingers over the leaded pieces that formed the queen’s face. “This image is on the card the Jester gave me.”

“
And I’ve seen this before,” Rieker said in a quiet voice from where he stood in a small alcove.

Tiki hurried over to his side.
“What is it?”

Rieker pointed to a
fine silver medallion in the shape of a Celtic cross that lay in a box of crushed emerald green velvet. “Kieran wore that when I knew him in London.”

Tiki sucked
in her breath. “Do you think these are the Jester’s rooms?” She turned around to look again at the brilliant mosaic of color. “Do you think he made these windows?”

Rieker tu
rned and followed Tiki’s gaze. “Do you think he’s really my father?”

Tiki slipped her
hand into Rieker’s and squeezed gently. “William, whether he is or isn’t, doesn’t change who you are.”

He tightened his fin
gers over hers. “You’re right. By now I know we each create our own path in this life.” He looked around the room. “The bigger question is where do we go from here?”

“
I don’t know. We don’t dare go back the way we came.”

“
No. We need to find another way out.” Rieker released Tiki’s hand and walked to the wall, running his fingertips over the stained glass image of a tower with flames shooting from the top. “It’s like these images tell a story—”

“
Or, knowing the Jester, hide a message.” She drew a sharp breath and pointed to one of the images on the floor. It was a grotesque picture of a red-headed giant wearing a chain of severed heads around his waist. “I recognize that one too, it’s on the—” her words died in her throat.

“
What?” Rieker looked from Tiki to where she pointed. “What is it?”

Tiki hurried toward the
picture and fell to her knees in front of the colored glass.

“
Teek, what are you doing?”

She leaned close, until her nose was almost pressed against the glass.
“Come look,” she cried, motioning him over.  He dropped to his knees next to her.

“
What is it?”

“
I recognized this picture—it’s on the ceiling of the Great Hall when the UnSeelies rule. Don’t you see? We’re on the other side of it—
above
the Great Hall.” She sat back on her heels and looked at Rieker. “This room is a spying post.”