The Torn Wing (26 page)

“You were lucky you survived,” Fiona whispered.

Johnny leaned back against the chair where he sat near the fire. “What was lucky was that you thought to come check on me.” He gave her a warm smile. “Saved my life, you did.”

Fiona’s cheeks turned pink. “I’m glad for it.”

Tiki sat back. There was a message of some sort in Johnny’s attack, she was sure of it. “Thank goodness you’re safe. For now, Johnny, I think it’s best if you just plan on staying here.”

THE NEXT DAY was gloomy again, the afternoon stormy and cold. Tiki and Rieker sat alone in his study before a blazing fire. Since their return from the Otherworld, he’d taken to inviting her into the room more often.

“I’ve been thinking about the Stone of Tara,” Tiki said, “and what you said about a puppet on the throne.”

Rieker raised his head from where he sat reading the
Count of Monte Cristo
and gazed at Tiki intently. “Go on.”

“Mamie said Larkin was jealous of Adasara—that Larkin wanted to be High Queen.” Tiki hesitated. “Maybe Eridanus and Finn deliberately misled Larkin because they didn’t trust her. Maybe they feared her ambitions would blind her to everything else—so they didn’t tell her everything.”

“Certainly possible.”

Tiki’s voice caught. “Eridanus hid the ring of the truce—one of the most important artifacts in the history of Faerie—in the mortal world. Why?” She continued before Rieker could answer. “Because it wasn’t safe in the Otherworld.” Tiki’s cheeks warmed. “Larkin said that Adasara hid me in London.”

Rieker let his breath out in a slow whistle. His hair had fallen across his forehead, reminding Tiki of when she’d known him as a pickpocket.

“They hid you—they hid the ring—” he closed his book with a snap and sat forward— “that’s got to be it.” His eyes glowed with excitement. “
Fate never crushed those who Truth never deceived
.” Rieker laughed for the first time in ages. “Isn’t that just like a faerie? In a place where the mirrors are said to reveal the truth, they place a fake.”

“Exactly,” Tiki breathed, “the stone wasn’t real.”

Rieker pushed himself out of the chair to pace. “I’ll bet a bloody thousand quid you’re right—the stone in the Palace of Mirrors isn’t the true Tara Stone.
That’s
why it didn’t roar when you stepped on it.
That’s
what the Fool was saying: the ‘Truth’ of the Tara Stone has never deceived anyone because we haven’t found the bloody thing yet.”

“And just like the ring,” Tiki said in an excited voice, “it must be hidden in London.”

ON SATURDAY, FIONA was putting the finishing touches on Tiki’s elaborate hairdo as Tiki sat in her thin shift trying not to squirm. Clara danced around the room with her homemade wings, pretending to be wearing a gown.

“Who should I dance with next, Tiki?” the little girl asked, giggling. “Prince Arthur? Or maybe Dain?” Then she was off again, twirling and humming.

At the mention of Dain, Tiki’s stomach twinged. She’d thought often of gruff, scarred Sean and the beautiful features of Dain, though she’d not mentioned him to anyone, not even Rieker. Part of her ached for how alone he was, though she knew there was nothing she could do to help him.

Tiki let out a sigh and threaded her fingers together, trying to be patient as Fiona continued braiding and pinning strands of hair.

“I’m almost done,” Fiona said as she twisted another section and secured it into place. As she reached for the comb, she ran her fingers over the skin of Tiki’s back. “Teek—what are these scars from?”

“What scars?” Tiki craned her head to see over her shoulder.

Fiona ran her fingers gently over Tiki’s skin again, up and down in two spots. “You’ve got two scars back here—thin lines—between your shoulder blades. What are they from?”

“Oh, those.” Tiki had forgotten about the scars. “I don’t know—I’ve always had them. Something happened when I was a baby. Can’t remember now what it was.” Suddenly, Larkin’s words echoed in Tiki’s head: ‘
Adasara must have torn yours off when she brought you to London…
’ Tiki chewed her lower lip. Had the faerie been right?

“They look old—they’re all faded and white—but they’re definitely scars.” Fiona’s forehead knotted in thought as she stared at Tiki’s back. “Strange.”

“Fi, are you almost done?” Tiki’s nerves were getting the best of her. It was no small thing to be going to Buckingham Palace and especially when Lord William Richmond was one’s escort.

“All right, all right,” Fi said, reaching for a beautiful silk red rose that matched her dress. She stuck a few pins in her mouth as she worked to weave the red rose behind Tiki’s ear where her hair gathered and then hung down her back in luscious waves.

Clara came to a spinning stop next to Fiona and rocked unsteadily on her feet as she blinked in Tiki’s direction. “Maybe she should wear a crown.”

Tiki held her neck and head straight for Fiona and only her eyes moved over to where Clara stood examining her. “I don’t think Queen Vic would take too kindly to me showing up in a crown. I think I’ll leave that bit to the royals.”

“Why do they get all the fun?” Clara asked as she skipped away to twirl some more.

Fiona worked for a few more seconds then gave Tiki’s hair a pat. “There. It shouldn’t fall out no matter how fast Rieker twirls you.” Dimples appeared on both sides of her cheeks as she grinned at Tiki.

Tiki jumped to her feet, anxious to move. All this sitting and having Fiona ‘work’ on her was getting on her nerves. The emerald green gown made a
shushing
noise as the silky fabric slid to the floor and puddled around Tiki’s feet.

“Where are those shoes?” Tiki asked, pulling her skirts this way and that, looking frantically around the room.

“Calm down, Teek. They’re right here.” Fiona grabbed the shoes off a nearby table and knelt down to put them on Tiki’s feet. “What is wrong with you? You weren’t this nervous the first time.”

“Oh, yes I was,” Tiki replied. “But at least last time I didn’t know anyone and I had a mask to hide behind.”

Fiona backed up to survey her handiwork. Tiki held her thin arms out from her sides and twirled for her. The dress shimmered as she turned, flaring around her legs. Fiona clutched her hands to her chest. “Oh, Tiki, you take my breath away, you’re so beautiful.”

“The most beautiful,” Clara declared.

“Let’s hope Rieker thinks so,” Tiki whispered.

She kept one hand on the railing and lifted her skirts with the other as she descended toward the foyer. Below, Shamus, Toots, Johnny, Juliette, Mr. and Mrs. B. and Rieker stood with upturned faces watching her.

Tiki’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her escort. Darkly handsome in his black tails and vest, Rieker’s shirt was white silk tied neatly with a matching cravat. He wore a sash diagonally across his chest the same emerald color of her dress. Tall and straight, his dark hair was combed back away from his face, revealing the perfection of his features.

As their eyes met the emotions he usually worked to conceal were obvious as he stared at her with longing. Tiki’s heart fluttered in response. When she reached the bottom of the stairs he took the fingers of her left hand and raised them to his lips.

“You are breathtaking.” His lips on her skin warmed her and it was as if he had embraced her.

Tiki smiled and raised her eyebrows. “I could say the same of you, William.”

With one gloved hand clutching his black top hat, Rieker held out the other arm for Tiki to take as he escorted her out the door to an immaculate black carriage pulled by two matched black horses. Red plumed feathers danced from their heads and their silver bridles shimmered in the moonlight. This ride to Buckingham Palace was the complete opposite of the way she had managed to sneak into the first ball she’d attended at the Palace.

As they sat next to each other on the crimson, diamond-tucked seat, Rieker reached over and slid his gloved hand over Tiki’s, entwining his fingers through hers. “Are you nervous?”

Tiki leaned against his shoulder, tightening her grip. “A little. I just hope that if a—” she hesitated— “a
stranger
is at the ball tonight we’ll be able to recognize them. I’m concerned if they’re wearing a glamour they won’t look any different than the next person.”

“I know. That same thought has occurred to me. Especially if it’s someone who has been entrenched within the palace for a period of time, then no doubt they’ll be skilled at blending in.”

IT WAS A different experience to be delivered to the grand entry of Buckingham Palace. Sentries stood lock-kneed and impassive in their red coats and tall black hats, spears clutched in one hand, as their carriage pulled through the bricked archway into the Quadrangle.

Geoffrey pulled the horses to a stop and one of the queen’s men held the door for them. Rieker stepped down through the small opening first and reached back to take Tiki’s hand. For a second, she felt like royalty as she gathered her gown and stepped down from the carriage.

Rieker smiled at her and tucked her hand under his arm. “Shall we go mingle?” His lips curved in a half-grin.

“Lord William Becker Richmond and Miss Tara Dunbar.” The crier announced them into the ball.

Before them, a kaleidoscope of flowing skirts and black suits swayed around a huge room. Tiki caught her breath at the sheer magnificence before her. Music filled the air. Chandeliers sparkled from the high ceilings. Tall pedestals ablaze with candlelight were positioned in long rows. Soaring walls, covered with deep red wallpaper, were lined with large, gilt-framed pictures, giving the spacious room surprising warmth and intimacy. The gold ceiling above was divided into rectangles of gold and etched with deep blues and reds.

For a moment the dark images of the Palace of Mirrors filled her mind, a stark contrast to the color and brightness before her. What would the Palace of Mirrors be like when the Seelies were in power? Would it be bright and light like the vision before her now?

As they stood poised on the top of the steps Tiki became uncomfortably aware of the number of heads who turned to gaze at them with abject curiosity.

“What are they looking at?” Tiki whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

“They are looking at you, of course.” Arthur’s dry voice at her elbow startled Tiki.

“Hello, Prince Arthur.” Tiki dipped into a curtsy.

“Because,” Arthur continued, as he strolled alongside Tiki into the room, “William has never brought a female companion to a ball before.” His eyes had a mischievous glint in them. “You are the first and they all want to see the creature who has captured the elusive Lord Richmond’s heart.”

“Arthur.” Rieker’ voice held a warning. “Don’t be telling tales out of school. You’ll fill Tiki’s head with a load of rubbish and she’ll be afraid to be seen in public with me.”

Tiki’s cheeks burned at the innuendo in Arthur’s comment yet at the same time a strange pride glowed inside her chest.

A young lord, dressed in coattails of grey silk, greeted Rieker and pulled him away.

“I’ll be right back,” Rieker said to Tiki over his shoulder as he disappeared into the crowd. “Arthur, mind your manners.”

Left alone with the prince, Tiki laughed to hide her embarrassment. “Well, if that’s the reason people are staring I’m sure it won’t take long for their curiosity to be sated. Then they’ll wonder whatever possessed him to invite someone as plain as I in the first place.”

Arthur reached for Tiki’s hand. “Trust me when I say that no one would ever consider you plain. I’ve no doubt that jealousy will sharpen some tongues tonight, but the fact remains you are the one who is here with him.” He smiled at Tiki and bowed over her fingers. “You should never forget,” he added in a low voice, “that William’s love for you is a powerful truth.”

Tiki tried to hide her surprise at Arthur’s comment. It was almost as if he’d been privy to the terrible tug-of-war her emotions had been playing inside her heart. She watched the prince’s back as he departed, a new confidence filling her. If Arthur accepted her as a match for William, then anything was possible. As if in response, Rieker came up behind her and slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his conversation with a different well-dressed lord and his young daughter.

“Charles, have I introduced you to Miss Tara Dunbar?” Rieker made the introductions as if there were no class distinction between Tiki and the middle-aged man. His white hair was wispy upon the top of his shiny pate and the buttons across his stomach strained against the white silk fabric as he gave a slight bow. “So pleased to make your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce my only child, Marie Claire.”

The girl was about Tiki’s age, with a rosy bloom in her porcelain cheeks that matched the beautiful, demure gown of pink velvet she wore. Her red hair however, would have favored a cooler color. There was a glow of excitement in her eyes as she stood next to her father. The girl’s cheeks turned even pinker as she curtsied to Rieker, clearly smitten. “She is sixteen now, after all,” her father said, “and allowed to attend parties.” Charles smiled fondly at her, clearly doting.

“So nice to meet you,” Tiki said with a smile. The girl reminded her of a well-fed, prized hen. She could imagine the sheltered life in which Marie Claire had grown up. Tiki couldn’t help but picture how beautiful Fiona would look, dressed in a similar gown.

After Charles and Marie Claire left, Rieker turned to Tiki. His lips twisted in a teasing smile as he moved close and lifted her chin. The intimate pose brought a sharp memory of Sean tilting her chin in a similar fashion when they’d returned to London. For a minute, Tiki thought Rieker was going to kiss her in public. “Now, Miss Dunbar, where is that dance card?”

“William, surely you’re not going to let her monopolize you the whole evening, are you?”

Rieker and Tiki turned together to find Isabelle Cavendish standing there, familiar blue-green eyes staring back at them. Larkin. Tiki’s stomach surged with an unfamiliar emotion as her gaze swept the girl from the ground up. Was she glad the faerie had escaped Donegal? She didn’t know for sure.

Isabelle was wearing a striking gown of blue silk, the color of a sapphire. Her brown hair was pinned up in an elegant hairdo that cascaded in perfect sausage ringlets around her neck. Her long fingers toyed with an ivory cameo pendant that hung against the perfect skin of her chest.