The Seven Year King (The Faerie Ring #3) (21 page)

“I know,” Rieker said. They’d left the table and stood near the fire as the well-trained servants moved silently and efficiently in and out of the room, clearing their dinner dishes. Rieker turned his back to the table and faced the flames, keeping his voice low. “The answer hasn’t become clear, quite yet. Do you think we could pick the lock?”

“Doubtful. I can pick pockets, but I’m not a lock pick by any stretch.” Tiki peered up at him. “Are you?”

“Not really.” Rieker propped his hands on his hips, pushing his jacket behind. His brow was furrowed in thought. “Do you think we could get him drunk enough to pick his pocket while he’s asleep?”

Tiki snorted. “Not likely. Unless you’re planning to get him to pass out here in the drawing room, otherwise, you’d have to get past his staff to reach his bedroom.”

Rieker sighed. “You’re right. That was a rather far-fetched idea. Besides,” he added in a dry voice, “I get the sense Sir Musgrave is well-versed in wine consumption.”

“If only we had some reason to bump into him, I could pick his pocket,” Tiki muttered. She thought of some of her escapades as a pickpocket and an idea suddenly struck her. “I’ve got it—we could dance.”

WHEN SIR MUSGRAVE returned to the room, Tiki and Rieker were waltzing, none-too-gracefully, about the room.

“What a brilliant idea.” Sir Musgrave called out in a jolly voice as he trundled toward them. “I love to dance!”

“Tiki wanted to practice her waltz,” Rieker said, as he twirled her in a circle around their host. “Before we dance in public.”

Tiki gave the other man a tremulous smile over her shoulder, her cheeks a bright pink. What Rieker had said was the truth. Though she had been versed in dancing at a young age, she’d had no practice for years and it took all her concentration not to step on her partner’s feet. She stumbled and Rieker slowed.

“Perhaps if she could practice with you, as well? She’ll feel better prepared for her debut.”

“Certainly, certainly.” Sir Musgrave held his hands up to take Tiki’s hand and waist. “I love to dance and we seldom get the opportunity. And to have such a lovely partner—” He beamed at her and Tiki tried to ignore the twinge of guilt that twisted in her stomach. “Are you ready, then?” At Tiki’s nod he gave an exaggerated dip. “And… one, two, three, one, two, three…” He swept Tiki away and they began to waltz around the room.

TIKI DANCED WITH both Rieker and their host several times before she pleaded for mercy.

“Thank you for your patience with me,” she laughed, “but I’m out of breath and really must rest.” She dropped into a chair with a loud sigh. “Perhaps we can try again later?”

“Delightful,” Sir Musgrave beamed. “Simply delightful. Another go in a bit would be wonderful. Now where is my wine?” He headed for the table where his glass sat.

Rieker raised his eyebrows at Tiki and she gave a brief nod. “William, would you be so kind as to hand me my bag?” Before Rieker could move, Sir Musgrave retrieved the purse from where she’d set the bag next to her chair at dinner.

“I’ve got it right here, my dear.” He held it high above his head as if he’d captured a prized flag. “Allow me.”

“Thank you so much.” Tiki reached for the bag.

“And your wine.” He held her glass out for her to take. “We all need a nip after that bit of fun.”

Tiki froze. She held her purse in one hand and the keys were clenched in her other hand, nestled in the folds of her skirt. Could she release her tight grip on them without the metal jingling together? At that moment, Rieker went into a coughing fit—hacking and wheezing, even bending over as though he couldn’t breathe.

“Dear me, boy—” Sir Musgrave stepped closer and pounded him on the back— “are you all right?”

Using Rieker’s cover, Tiki quickly slipped the keys into the bottom of her purse. By the time Sir Musgrave and Rieker turned to face her, Tiki was standing next to them, the purse held demurely at her side, one hand reaching for her wine glass Sir Musgrave still held. Rieker’s eyes were watering and his face was bright red. Tiki giggled, so relieved to have secured the keys they needed, she couldn’t help but tease him a bit.

“Hairball, William?” she asked in a polite voice.

Rieker gave a half laugh. “Something like that.”

Tiki pressed her lips together to hold back her laughter. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I must use the facilities. Do carry on in my absence.”

THE MOON HAD reached its zenith when Tiki slipped from her room. She and Rieker had agreed to meet at the bottom of the stairs at midnight. She was dressed in a silk robe covering her light blue night gown—a gift from Rieker. In one hand she clutched the handle of the small lamp, in the other, the crystal water goblet she’d brought from dinner. The ornate key that opened the locked room downstairs was safely hidden in her pocket.

In their last round of dancing, Tiki had been able to slip the key ring, sans the most important key, back into Sir Musgrave’s pocket. They had counted on the fact that the wine would make the older man less observant when he retired and hopefully, he’d never notice one missing key on the thick ring.

Tiki wore a thin pair of slippers on her feet, which made her passage silent, though it was difficult to hear over the pounding of her heart. The shadows were thick at the bottom of the stairs and she descended cautiously, staying close to the wall so that she might remain unseen.

As she reached the bottom, one of the shadows shifted and loomed toward her, making her heart skip a beat before she realized it was Rieker.

“Oh, you gave me a fright,” she said softly.

He held his hand out and she slid her fingers into his. “Not to worry,” he said softly, “you’re safe with me.” He led her down the hallway past the drawing room where they’d dined with their host.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Tiki whispered.

“I think so. I tried to map it in my mind when he took us down here earlier in the evening—hoping we’d have an opportunity to come back on our own. Since we didn’t hear anything, I don’t think he noticed the key missing when he retired to bed.”

Rieker led her through the darkened hallways with a surprising confidence. They took the small back stairway, winding through the narrow corridors until Tiki felt like they’d gone deep underground. Rieker finally stopped before the wooden door.

“Do you have the key?”

Tiki handed Rieker the slim piece of metal.

It only took him a second before the lock snapped open and he gave Tiki a devious grin over his shoulder. “Voila.” He pushed the door open and Tiki held her lamp up as they stepped into the small room. From its perch on the far shelf, the Luck sparkled in the lamplight as if full of magical secrets. Tiki stepped closer to admire the glass design. “Amazing it’s survived all these years,” she murmured.

“Can you glamour that water goblet to look like it?” Rieker asked, coming to stand beside her.

“I’ll do my best. I’ve never tried to glamour an object before.”

“Seems like it’d be easier than changing an entire person.”

Tiki handed the lamp to Rieker and placed the water goblet on the shelf next to the Luck. She stared at the Luck, getting a mental image, then shifted her attention to the water goblet. She held her hands close to the glass and picturing the Luck in her mind, then whispered the words Larkin had taught her.

The fresh scent of clover filled the air and before their eyes, the goblet melted from one shape into another.

“Bloody well amazing,” Rieker breathed.

Tiki looked from the real Luck to the water goblet she’d just glamoured. They were identical. “It is a bit shocking, isn’t it?”

“Shh!” Rieker held up a hand to silence her, his head cocked toward the door. “Listen. Someone’s coming.” Tiki grabbed the Luck as Rieker twisted the small knob that controlled the flame on their lamp. They were plunged into darkness. Tiki yanked loose the tie of her silk robe and hid the Luck within its folds as Rieker led her out the door and into the shadows further down the hallway.

A voice grew louder as it approached, soon recognizable as Sir Musgrave mumbling to himself. “Don’t know how it could’ve come off the ring…but where else could it be?” He was in a purple night robe, edged in gold, with purple slippers on his feet that slapped against the floor as he shuffled along. He held a candle within a hurricane lamp to light his way. “Know I locked the door…didn’t I?…Getting old….can’t remember my name half the time…

Rieker edged back further in the hallway, nudging Tiki along.

She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ears, “Where is the key?”

She could feel rather than see Rieker’s grin. “Still in the door.”

They watched Sir Musgrave as he held his light aloft and bent over to peer at the lock. He straightened with an audible sigh of relief. “Of course, you’re here, my little beauty, right where I left you…” The man put his hand on the handle and paused. “Could’ve sworn I locked this door, though.” He slowly pushed the door open and lifted his lamp to light the interior of the small room.

With his face illuminated by the glow of the candle, Tiki could see his fearful expression. The old man really did believe in faeries. Tiki had to bite her lip to stop a giggle. And well he should, she thought, because hadn’t a faerie just stolen the very thing he was trying to protect?

“WE’RE ON TO Edinburgh.” Rieker said the next morning, as they bid farewell to Sir Musgrave. “Thank you again for your hospitality and for allowing us to view the Luck. Quite a fascinating bit of history, there.”

“Funny you should mention that, William. When I went to bed last night I found I’d misplaced my key to the door where we keep the Luck. Don’t know how it came off the ring. Could’ve sworn I’d locked that door and put the lot in my pocket but when I went to check—there it was—stuck in the lock with the door open.” The older man shook his grey head. “Can’t quite explain it…”

“How curious,” Tiki murmured. “Was the Luck all right?”

“Yes, thankfully.” The old man smiled. “Right on the shelf where she belongs, though seemed a bit off-center….” He scratched his head. “Gave me a bit of a fright, I have to admit. Decided today I’d best find another secret hiding place for it, you know—just to be on the safe side.”

A FEW MINUTES later Tiki and Rieker were back in the carriage and Geoffrey was driving them away from Edenhall. Rieker sat close to Tiki as she carefully unwrapped the item hidden within her cloak and held it up for Rieker to see. The cup sparkled in the afternoon light as if pleased with their deception.

“The Luck of Edenhall,” she said softly. “Let’s return you to Faerie.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I
still think you should have stayed home,” Arthur said as he let the brass knocker drop against the strike at Number Six. “You’re barely well enough to venture out. I can talk to Wills on my own.”

“I know, I know,” Leo replied. “I felt compelled to come. To see him with my own eyes and know that’s he’s all right. Wills can be so stubborn, at times.” He shook his head and glanced warily up and down the dark street again. Fog was settling low against the cobblestones, muting the orbs of light cast from the row of gas streetlamps. “I suspect Tara is cut from the same cloth, but I’m not going to take no for an answer. Given his importance, not only to us, but also to the monarchy, I will insist they be protected until this monster is either captured or destroyed.”

“In theory, Leo, that is a good plan, but I suspect Wills might have something to say about the idea.”

The door swung open. Charles, the butler, blinked in surprise at the guests on the doorstep before his gaze flicked to the ornate coach that waited on the street, surrounded by four liveried footmen. He gave a stiff bow.

“May I help your royal highnesses?”

“Is Lord Richmond about?” Arthur asked.

“I’m sorry to say he’s not here, sir.” Charles gave a sharp tug to the bottom of his vest. “Was he expecting you?”

“No, no,” Arthur waved his hand, “he didn’t know we were coming. Tell me, did he say when he would return?”

Charles pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin. “Unfortunately, your Highness, he did not.”

“What about Miss Tara?” Leo spoke up. “Is she here?”

The butler shook his head. “Gone with Sir, I’m afraid.”