The Torn Wing (13 page)

Tiki closed the door and moved soundlessly across the plush Persian rug that covered the floor. She slid into the overstuffed chair, enjoying the manliness of the room. Dark bookcases lined the walls between huge windows that looked out to well-tended gardens. A nearby table with two chairs on each side had a chess game in progress.

Rieker waited as Tiki sat down. Dark circles shadowed the skin under his eyes and he looked as though he hadn’t slept. Worry had created fine lines between his brows and his eyes were darker than normal, reminding Tiki of when she’d first met him.

“How was Mr. Potts?” Rieker smiled and his face transformed, as if he’d pulled a mask on to hide his concerns.

Tiki held out the book she’d just purchased. “He sent you a new book,” she said, then affected Mr. Potts’ accent, “’bout a bloke with more than one identity.”

Rieker blinked in surprise, one corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. He reached for the book and examined the title with curiosity. “The Count of Monte Cristo?”

Tiki shook her head. “I haven’t heard of it either.”

Rieker put the book on the edge of the desk. “Well, if Mr. Potts recommended this one, it’s sure to be good.”

“How was Leo? Did you learn anything more?” Tiki slipped her shoes off and tucked her feet beneath her, snuggling deeper into the chair. For this moment she felt safe, alone in this room with Rieker, almost like they were hidden in a world of their own.

He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “They still haven’t been able to stop the bleeding.”

Tiki frowned. “That’s not good.”

“The physicians are calling it hemophilia but the Queen has never shown any signs of the disease nor did Leo’s father before he passed.” Rieker tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “Arthur is convinced that ‘
other forces’
are involved.”

“I don’t think there’s any question, do you?”

Rieker shook his head. “Not really. He’s asked us to attend a party a week from next Saturday, to see if we can spot anyone who might be ‘out of the ordinary’ is how he put it.”

Tiki hesitated. “Speaking of ‘out of the ordinary’, I keep seeing one young man in particular lately.”

Rieker stiffened. “Who’s that?”

“I first noticed him when Fi and I went to Charing Cross last week. Then I saw him again today. Clara waved at him and called him Dain.” Tiki raised her eyebrows. “Apparently, he’s the chap who brought Toots home from the Otherworld.”

“Does he seem threatening?”

Tiki shook her head. “Not really…not yet—” she hesitated— “but he wants something.”

“Curious faeries are usually a problem.”

“He said he’d come to help.”

Rieker grimaced. “Helpful faeries might even be worse.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Dain, you said his name was?” Tiki nodded. “Keep your distance from him and tell me if you see him again.”

“I told him to leave us alone.”

“It’s good you let him know you’re not afraid of him, but maybe even better if you pretend you can’t see him at all. By the way, Arthur thought we might be able to visit with Leo in a private drawing room for a short time while we’re at the palace.” Rieker gave her a teasing grin. “Arthur knows Leo enjoys seeing you. He probably thinks that will help him get well.”

Tiki’s cheeks warmed. “I think Leo fancies any girl, not just me.”

Rieker chuckled. “That’s true, but I think Leo fancies you more than most.” A soft smile stretched Rieker’s lips as he tilted his head to see Tiki’s face. “You’ve enchanted him.” His voice got softer. “Just as you’ve enchanted me.”

Surprised, Tiki’s eyes flicked to Rieker’s. His gaze was steady on her and there was a vulnerability in his expression that she’d rarely seen. A warmth spread in her chest until she could feel it heating her cheeks, as well.

Rieker seemed to catch himself, and the mask that hid his emotions was back in place.

He looked away and ran his fingers through his dark hair, making the wavy ends stand up.

Tiki searched for something to fill the awkward silence. “What I don’t understand is how Donegal has found a way around the truce.”

“I know.” Rieker sighed. “Unfortunately, I suspect Larkin is the only one who would be able to answer that question.”

“Did I hear someone mention my name?”

Chapter Nineteen

“L
arkin.” Rieker’s voice came out in a growl. “Is there never any peace from you?”

The blond faerie strode out of the dim shadows from the corner of the room. “Really, William—” Larkin’s voice was disapproving— “you seem to forget that you want something from me.” She ran a finger along the back of his chair, leaning forward to speak into his ear. “A little respect, a little gratitude, would go a long way in encouraging me to confide some of my secrets.”

Dressed in a simple gown of moss green silk that seemed to float around her, the faerie was barefoot. Her hair hung long down her back in a wild tangle of golden waves. Her face glowed as if the sun shone down solely on her and once again, Tiki had a hard time dragging her eyes away from Larkin’s beauty.

“Do you ever stop spying on us?” Rieker snapped. “Don’t you need to sleep occasionally? Or are you part vampire as well?”

Larkin jerked her head back and hissed at him. “You push me, William, with your insults.” She put a razor-sharp fingernail under his chin. Her lips pulled back in a snarl. “Pray that you don’t push me too far one day.”

“Don’t threaten him, Larkin.” Tiki sat straighter in her chair. Larkin wanted something from her—for once she had the upper hand. “Or you might push
me
too far.”

Larkin looked at Tiki, her head tilted like a bird. “What’s this? Has my little faerie queen finally gathered some courage?” She circled Tiki’s chair and gazed at the other side of her face. “Do you bite and scratch now?” She poked a finger at Tiki’s arm.

Lightning fast, Tiki’s fingers stretched like a cat’s claws and flew to clamp around Larkin’s wrist. The faerie let out a cry. Tiki squeezed hard, intending to inflict pain. She spoke through gritted teeth. “If that’s what I need to do to keep my family safe, then the answer is yes.”

For a moment she stared unblinking into the faerie’s mercurial eyes, then Larkin threw back her head and let out a wild cackle of laughter. Tiki loosened her grip and Larkin jerked her arm free. Tiki was surprised by the gleeful smile that stretched across Larkin’s features.

“I feared perhaps you’d inherited too much of Adasara’s gentle nature, but no—” Larkin twirled once, lifting her skirts so they swirled around her legs. As her long hair flew free Tiki caught a glimpse of what looked like two terrible wounds that slashed across Larkin’s back before the faerie faced Tiki again and clapped her hands— “I see Finn is alive and well in you. Your father was a warrior. As fierce and wild as a midnight storm—” “Larkin,” Rieker interrupted, “why are you here?”

“Ah yes, that.” Larkin stilled. “I came to tell you there is a party going on in the Palace of Mirrors, as we speak. Usually the celebration of Beltane, the onset of summer, is hosted by the Seelies as they regain power of the courts, but instead, Donegal is hosting a lavish feast.” She pointed her long, delicate finger at Tiki. “It is the perfect opportunity for you to touch
Cloch na teamhrach
.”

Tiki took a deep breath. “How do we get there?”

Both Larkin and Rieker looked at her in surprise.

“What?” Rieker gasped.

“A sensible choice,” Larkin said, stepping closer to Tiki.

Tiki pushed herself out of the chair, needing to move, to put space between herself and the faerie, to try and dislodge the terrible fear churning in the pit of her stomach. “I can’t stand by and watch the people I care about be hurt. But you’ll have to help me. Tell me how to find the stone and what to do.”

“You’re not going without me.” Rieker jumped up from his chair.

“There are some things I won’t have to teach,” Larkin said, standing perfectly still. “You’re beginning to believe in yourself.”

Tiki’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Larkin held up her wrist and pulled back the flowing sleeve. Green blood oozed from the painful looking punctures in her skin. “Look what you did.”

Tiki bit back a gasp as she stared at the faerie’s arm. She glanced down at her own fingers. They looked perfectly normal now, but she’d felt the transformation in her hand when she’d reached for Larkin’s wrist—the blinding speed with which she moved, the ferocity of her grip—almost as if claws had sprung from her fingertips.

“So, you see,” Larkin said with an enigmatic smile, “it has already begun.

“You will not go without me,” Rieker said again, looking from one to the other.

Larkin circled Tiki, looking thoughtful. “You’ll need to be disguised. We can’t take the chance of you being recognized.”

“Then put a glamour on me. Or better yet, teach me how to apply a glamour.”

Larkin measured her through slitted lids. “Perhaps you should just shed the one you wear?” There was a tone in the faerie’s words that sounded like a dare.

“
What?”
Tiki and Rieker spoke at the same time.

Tiki bit down hard on her lip. Larkin didn’t need any more of an advantage. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. “Can you disguise me or not?”

Larkin nodded, tossing a long strand of silky hair over her shoulder as she slowly paced. “I can disguise you, but the Palace of Mirrors is exactly what the names implies: a palace of enchanted mirrors. The mirrors reflect one’s true form. It is a place where lies become truth.” She let out a trill of laughter like wind chimes, as if she’d told a joke. “To stop anyone from entering court who might be in a glamour and mean to do the king harm, of course.”

She moved behind Rieker’s back as effortlessly as if she floated and for a second Tiki couldn’t see her. Then the faerie peered from behind him, giving Tiki the odd sense they were playing a game of hide and seek.

“What do we do then?” Rieker asked, stepping closer to Tiki, pulling her away from Larkin.

“First, we will avoid the mirrors. They are primarily in the Great Hall, where court and all the festivities are held. It will be tricky, but we can still accomplish what needs to be done.” She snapped her fingers. “But we need to go now, while the opportunity exists. The Palace of Mirrors will be the last place Donegal would ever expect to see one of us.”

IT ONLY TOOK a few seconds for Larkin to apply a glamour to Tiki. With a feather-light touch she ran her hands over Tiki’s hair and along her arms down to her feet, chanting indistinguishable words. As she worked, the faint smell of clover permeated the air. Tiki felt as if she’d been infused with a glowing light. But instead of being warmed by the light, a cool breeze blew across her skin— as if she stood in front of an open door.

“Hmmm.” Larkin appraised Tiki. “You do look a bit like my sister now, though lacking in any natural grace or true beauty, of course.”

“That is amazing,” Rieker breathed in a tone of astonishment. “Teek, you don’t even look like yourself anymore.”

A nervous excitement bubbled inside Tiki. She desperately wanted to look in a mirror, but there were no mirrors in Rieker’s study. She looked down at her hands, but they didn’t look that different—her fingers were longer and more slender, the color of her skin more golden. Her hair reached all the way to her waist, but was still her familiar dark color. She now wore a dress the color of midnight blue, embroidered with threads of silver that sparkled and twinkled in the lamp light.

“How do I remove the glamour?” Tiki asked.

“When you arrive in the Otherworld, your glamour will naturally shift a bit more—to blend in with your surroundings,” Larkin said. “I’ve applied it in a way so it will fade when you return to London.”

She turned to Rieker, and rested a finger on her chin. “Now for you. Finn’s best friend was a young man named Fraoch O’Donoghue. He was about your size—” she looked Rieker up and down— “and had the same sort of arrogance about him. He can be our inspiration.” Rieker frowned, but Larkin only smiled and stepped close, cupping his face in her hands. “I do so enjoy touching you, William. Always so handsome.”

Rieker moved to brush her arms away, but Larkin hissed at him as she jerked her hands toward his head and he froze. As Tiki watched Larkin ran her fingers along the perimeter of his body and he melted into someone else. Suddenly, a young man stood before her with a crop of long, wild brown hair that brushed his shoulders. A braid hung on one side and another part was pulled back with a strip of leather. His face, though marked by several vicious scars, was sculpted with wide cheekbones and a hearty grin, as if he’d just told a joke.

Rieker looked at Tiki. “How do I look?”

“Different,” she said faintly.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” Larkin swirled her hand in front of herself and suddenly a much older woman stood there, stout of hip with an aging face. Beautiful, but not anywhere near the breathtaking exquisiteness that usually illuminated Larkin’s features.

“Oh,” Tiki cried, putting a hand to her mouth. “Should I tell the others we’re leaving?”

“Not to worry, guttersnipe,” Larkin said. “You’ll be back before they’ll ever know you were gone.”