The Torn Wing (33 page)

J
ohnny!“Fiona shouted across the field as she ran, the hem of her dress clutched in one hand and held high above her knees so she wouldn’t trip. Overhead, storm clouds gathered on the horizon, black and threatening.

He turned from where he was perched on the fence, watching Toots ride the big brown bay in circles around the corral. Mr. Bosworth stood in the center of the gated area, holding the lead as he shouted instructions to Toots.

Johnny climbed down and hobbled to meet Fiona. Something in her tone made the skin crawl along the back of his neck just like when a bobby was paying too much attention to him.

“Fi, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Clara.” Fiona’s chest heaved, her voice coming out in choking gasps. “Have you seen her?”

“Clara? No.” He motioned toward Toots. “I’ve been out here with the horses. Why?”

“I can’t find her.” Fiona gasped for breath, seemingly unaware that she still clutched her skirts well above her knees.

“Could she be with Mrs. B.?”

Fiona shook her head. “Mrs. B. hasn’t seen her since breakfast.”

“What about Shamus?”

“Shamus is working in the barn on his furniture. She’s not there.” Fiona shoved past him and jerked herself up on the fence posts until her head was over the top rail.

“Toots!” Her cry pierced the afternoon air like the cry of a hawk. In the distance, thunder rumbled.

Toots jerked around in surprise.

“Where’s Clara?”

“How should I know, Fi?” Toots swiveled his head as the horse continued to prance around the circle. “Can’t you see I’m learning how to ride?” Mr. Bosworth slowed the horse to a walk and turned his weathered face in Fiona’s direction.

“You sound distressed, Miss.”

Johnny climbed the rails to look into Fiona’s face.

“Why are you so upset?”

“Toots.” Fiona’s voice held a wild note of hysteria. “She’s
gone
. Do you understand me?
Gone
. By herself.”

Toots’ eyes narrowed in a frown as the horse came to a stand-still, jerking his head to loosen the reins. “Gone where?”

“She’s gone to help Tiki.”

Toots gripped the saddle horn. “How do you know? How could she?”

“She
told
me she was going to go.” Fiona kicked a leg over the top rail so she could balance on the fence. “She said Larkin revealed her true name and told Clara if she ever needed her to call her and she’d come. But I didn’t believe her. I thought she was just missing Tiki.”

“But how could she get anywhere, Fi?” Johnny asked. He climbed a rung, balanced below where Fiona sat perched. “She’s just a little girl.”

Fiona bit the corner of her lip. “If she called for Larkin, she would come. She
has
to come. Larkin would take her.”

Next to her, propped on the fence, Johnny’s brows scrunched in confusion.

Sitting on the horse, Toots’ face blanched. “Are you sure?”

“
Yes
. I’ve looked everywhere.”

A frown creased Mr. Bosworth’s wrinkled forehead as he led the horse toward Fiona. “Does the missus know the little girl is gone?”

Fiona stared at Toots. “Larkin
has
to come when her name is called. All she had to do was grab Clara and leave again.”

“But why would Larkin take her?” Toots asked.

In the distance, white forks of lightning speared the sky. Fiona jumped as deep-throated thunder followed a second later. “Don’t you understand? She took her before. She’s a way for Larkin to get Tiki to do what she wants.”

“Slow down now. Who’s this Larkin person yer keep referring to?” Mr. Bosworth looked from one to the other, the edges of his white hair lifting in the sudden breeze. “Is she a neighbor?”

Toots kicked a leg over the horse and slid down from the saddle. He raced around the front of the animal and headed for the fence. “Thanks a lot, Mr. B.,” he called over his shoulder, “but we’ve got to go find Shamus right now.” He scrambled through the gate as Fiona climbed down. It only took Toots a moment before he was racing across the grass with Fiona, headed for the barn where Shamus worked on his furniture.

Johnny tried to hurry with his crutch behind them.

Left alone with the horse in the middle of the corral, Mr. Bos-worth frowned and rubbed the bay’s nose as he watched the receding backs of the children. “Guess we better go tell the missus.” He gave the lead a tug and led the horse toward the gate.

Inside the barn, Toots and Fiona raced to Shamus where he sat sanding a flat piece of wood that looked like it could be a desk top.

“Shamus!” Fiona cried as they slid to a stop on the straw covered floor. Her words came out in a rush. “Clara’s gone missing.”

“What should we do?” Toots asked, his chest heaving to catch his breath.

The tap-tap of Johnny’s crutch could be heard as he entered the barn.

Shamus lifted his white-blond head and rested the slab of wood across his knees as he contemplated the three of them. “Have you checked with Mrs. Bosworth? Are you sure she’s not off playing with her wings somewhere?”

Fiona jerked her head up and down, her brown curls waving with the movement. “She said she was going to call Larkin because she wanted to help Tiki—but I didn’t think she’d actually do it.”

Shamus was silent. Knowing how he liked to think things over Fiona and Toots waited impatiently, the young boy hopping from one foot to the other.

“Well, if Larkin has taken Clara to—” Shamus glanced at Johnny— “
away
, I don’t think there’s anything we can do about it but wait here. We’ve no way to follow and no way to get in touch with Larkin ourselves.” His lips twisted into a line of worry. “Unless the two of you can think of some other way to track Clara down, I think we’re stuck waiting.”

“What about going to The Ring in Hyde Park?” Fiona said in a whisper. “The fey are always there during storms.”

CONVINCING MR. BOSWORTH to let Shamus take a wagon loaded with children into London during a storm was not easy. It was, in fact, impossible. In the end, they had to sneak away. Fiona bit her fingernails down to the quick on the ride into the City, worrying about what the elderly couple would say when they returned.

Thunder continued to boom overhead and the closer they got to London the more prominent the smell of smoke became.

“What’s burning?” Toots asked, looking in all directions for the smoke that would indicate the location of the fire.

“It must be a massive fire to smell all the way out here,” Johnny replied.

“I wonder if Mr. and Mrs. B. know we’re gone yet?” Fiona said in a fretful voice.

Shamus continued to drive, remaining silent.

IT WAS SEVERAL hours later when they arrived in Hyde Park. Dusk was just beginning to set. Shamus steered the horses around the Serpentine to the area in the northeastern section of the park called The Ring. The leather rigging on the wagon creaked as Shamus pulled to a stop.

“Which way?” Toots called.

“Over here,” Fiona cried, as she jumped down from the wagon and headed toward a band of trees.

“Should we just shout her name?” Johnny asked.

“Larkin! Larkin! Larkin!” Their voices were sharp, desperate, like cry of birds. The name seemed to bounce across the park and disappear into the shadows under the trees as Fiona and Johnny went one direction and Shamus and Toots went the other. Over-head, thunder rumbled, like an answering echo.

FIONA AND JOHNNY had been calling for almost twenty minutes when a tall man with black hair, dressed in a long dark coat and black trousers, approached. He carried a thin black cane and wore a black top hat, the dark colors making him blend with the rapidly approaching night. Like a leaf caught on the wind, he moved soundlessly toward them.

Chapter Forty-Six

S
ervants moved among the tables in the great underground hall, removing dishes, filling wine glasses. They remained silent and didn’t make eye contact—making it easy to look through them. Tiki wondered who they were. Mortals? A lower class of faeries? One girl in particular had a familiar cast to her features, though Tiki couldn’t place where she might have seen her before.

“Now, this is what we have to do.” Larkin rattled off orders. “Tiki needs to speak to the Macanna. She needs to show them her birthmark and convince them she is Finn’s daughter—” Larkin’s expression was steely with determination— “without her glamour.”

A spider web of dread filled Tiki’s lungs making it difficult to draw a deep breath. She gave a short nod. “Fine.” There was no other choice.

TIKI’S LEGS SHOOK. She stood in a small room with Rieker and Larkin, not far from the great hall where the Macanna were gathered. She had changed into a shimmering gown the color of ripe cranberries, shot through with threads of gold and glittering with embroidered gold sequins.

“You need to shed your glamour here,” Larkin said. She was still draped in shades of black and grey – somehow making her form indistinct. “We need to reveal your true features to the Macanna so they know what you look like—who they’ll be protecting and fighting for.”

“They still have to be convinced that I’m Finn’s daughter,” Tiki said.

Larkin made a small noise at the back of her throat. “They’ll believe.”

Rieker squeezed Tiki’s hand to reassure her. She clung to his fingers, trying to deny the fear that flooded her, threatening to drown her.

“The first order of business is to shed that glamour,” Larkin said again.

Tiki dug her fingernails into the flesh of her palms. Could she do it? What if she looked like a monster? She was so nervous she wasn’t sure if she could push one more word out of her mouth. “How?”

“It might take a few tries since you’ve been subconsciously producing this glamour all your life. However—” Larkin reached into a pocket buried within the gauzy dark folds of her gown and pulled something free— “you’ve maintained your present image because that’s what you
believe
you should look like.”

The faerie lifted a small, flat object. For a moment, Tiki thought it was a piece of painted wood, but as Larkin turned the object a shaft of light reflected off its surface and shot across the room. “I’ve this. Maybe if you know what you really look like, you’ll be able to shed the glamour more easily.”

Rieker grabbed Larkin’s wrist to still her hand so he could see what she held. “What is it?”

“It’s a mirror.” Tiki answered for Larkin. “It’s from the Palace of Mirrors, isn’t it?”

Larkin smiled and for a second she was her old self: Enigmatic. Mocking. Breathtakingly beautiful. “I stole it especially for you, guttersnipe. I knew one day you’d be ready to use it.” She held her hand out, the mirror resting on her open palm. “Take it.”

Tiki saw the glint of curiosity that glowed in the blue-green depths of Larkin’s eyes. “Take it,” she coaxed. “You must wonder what you really look like.”

The mirror balanced on Larkin’s outstretched hand.

Tiki didn’t move. Was she ready? This would change everything.

She drew in a shaky breath. Her heart pounded so hard she feared Rieker would hear her ribs rattle.

She snatched the mirror from Larkin’s hand and held it up to her face.

Tiki blinked once.

Twice.

Then exhaled in a sharp gasp.

The face staring back was the girl she’d seen in the Palace of Mirrors right before Dain had taken her down the back hallway and out the side door. Without knowing it, she’d been looking at herself in one of the enchanted mirrors.

Vivid green eyes stared back with a mixture of curiosity and fear. Large and almond shaped, they were emeralds glowing beneath sooty lashes. Skin as opalescent and beautiful as her mother’s well-loved string of pearls gleamed in the reflection. Her features were sharply etched by razor-sharp cheek bones, a thin straight nose and a lush mouth—one meant to be kissed— making her look older, and much wiser than she was. Yet, somehow, the face looked familiar, too.

With a rush of unexpected emotion she realized she was as beautiful as Larkin. But where Larkin was blond and ethereal, she was darkly exotic and mysterious. What was the word Rieker had told her Prince Arthur had used? An enchantress.

“
Well?”
Rieker burst out. “What do you see?”

“We could look over your shoulder to see the reflection,” Larkin suggested.

Tiki turned her head to the side and pulled her hair back, still staring into the mirror. “I’ve got pointed ears.”

Rieker let out a sigh of exasperation. “What about your face? Will I recognize you?”

Tiki dropped her hair and looked straight in the mirror again, contemplating his question. Though some of her basic features were the same—the color of her eyes, the shape of her nose had always been straight, but not quite as long or dramatic. Now, however, the sum of the parts caused her to look strikingly different.

With a start, Tiki suddenly realized why the face in the mirror looked familiar. She dropped her hand to her side and stared at Larkin. “I look like you.”

Larkin lids lowered and she gave what looked like a forced shrug. “I’m not surprised. You are my niece after all.”