The Faerie Queen (The Faerie Ring #4) (24 page)

Chapter Forty-Three

Tiki turned
as the first hound charged. Jaws snapping, fanged-teeth barred, the giant black dog exploded from behind Donegal’s throne headed straight for Tiki.  Screams ripped the air as people rushed to get out of the way.

She didn’t have time to think—only react.
Fire flew from her fingertips. The dog dropped dead at Tiki’s feet, a tendril of smoke curling from the black, charred hole in its chest. Tiki braced herself, expecting the second dog to charge next but the black hound remained partially hidden behind the throne, her eyes intent upon Tiki.

“
What is the meaning of this?” Donegal roared, staring at the dead dog in disbelief.  His gaze shifted to Tiki. Of Donegal’s three generals, Sullivan was the biggest. He had immense shoulders, a square head and a nose that spread across his face like a mushroom. He was the first to move.

“
Name yourself,” he growled, making Tiki wonder if he could communicate with the hellhounds in their own language. More guards gathered, weapons held at the ready.

Tiki
looked down her nose at the man. “Is this how you treat your visitors to Court?” She snapped her fingers at the other dog. “Take that one away too, before he decides to attack the King.”

“
How dare you—” Sullivan started toward Tiki but Donegal stopped him.

“
Sullivan,” Donegal barked. “Mind your manners.” The Winter King slid to the edge of his seat, his beady black eyes locked on Tiki.  “Who are you?”

With a careless gesture, Tiki flicked a flame red strand of hair over her shoulder.
“I am Simone, of course. I’ve come from London to watch the capture of the Seelie queen.” She looked around then raised an eyebrow at Donegal. “Unless I’ve miss the fun? Have you murdered her already?”

“
If only I had,” Donegal murmured, sliding from the throne. He approached Tiki, keeping the damaged side of his face turned away, curiosity burning in his bottomless eyes. “I’ve not had the pleasure of your acquaintance, madam. Pray tell me your history. If you are here at this time of year then you must have UnSeelie blood yet you say you’ve traveled from London? Any fey who crosses over to the mortal world is braver than most.”

“
Much braver,” Tiki agreed as she forced herself to smile at the horribly disfigured man, “but I enjoy the risk.”

Donegal threw his head back and laughed.
“You remind me of an old friend of mine. Or perhaps I should call Larkin my adversary. Regardless, she amuses me. I sense you might, too.”

T
he guards who surrounded the Winter King watched the exchange with undisguised interest.

“
How fascinating.” Tiki’s mind raced as she swept her gown to the side and began to walk away from the golden net that held Clara. Could she draw Donegal and his guards far enough away that Rieker could cut Clara free without being noticed?

Donegal fell into step beside her.
“Tell me about yourself.”

“
It’s not obvious when you gaze upon my face?” Tiki cocked her head in a pose. “It seems I inspire certain mortals. I am the muse to whom they will gladly pledge their lives in exchange for the artistic brilliance my love brings—” she grinned, revealing suddenly fanged teeth— “short though it may be.”

“
Ah, I see,” Donegal nodded with sudden understanding. “Your price is steep.”

Tiki resumed walking
, leading him away from the net that held Clara. “As is anything of value.”

“
Why have I not seen you at Court before?” Donegal walked with her, his guards trailing in a wave, keeping a discreet distance. “I surely would have remembered someone as lovely and remarkable as you.”

Tiki cro
ssed her arms and feigned a pout.  “I have been here before but you only had eyes for your friend, Larkin.”

Donegal tilted his head back and laughed.
“What you say is true.  Larkin can be mesmerizing.”

Tiki
made a scoffing noise. “She may be beautiful, but I’m still not sure if she claims to be Seelie or UnSeelie. The only thing I do know is that she seems inordinately fond of the color gold.”

Do
negal laughed out loud. “That’s because she thinks she should be queen.”

A few instruments plucked discordant notes until music of sorts flowed through the room again.
Tiki led Donegal out through the grand doors of the palace and came to a stop on the steps overlooking the Night Garden. As darkness had descended, the glow of the beautiful luminescent blooms lit the night with color. She stopped in a place where they could still be seen by the occupants of the Great Hall so Rieker and Dain would know Donegal’s location. She desperately wanted to look over her shoulder and check on Clara but she didn’t dare.

“
Tell me the truth,” Tiki said, in an effort to keep the UnSeelie king distracted. “What breed is Larkin? Seelie or UnSeelie?”

Donegal
clasped his hands behind his back and gazed out over the dark, twisted maze of brambles and thorns. A storm brewed overhead, the murky clouds swirling in great gusts. In his black robe and with his black hair the Winter King blended with the night. The only spot of color was the gold circlet that sat upon his head, reflecting the flames of nearby torches. His voice was thoughtful when he spoke.

“
Larkin is as mercurial as a flicker of moonlight, as clever as the Court Fool and as untrustworthy as a mortal. For a long time I believed she was committed to the UnSeelie Court—partly from her love of power, partly from jealousy of her sister and in a large part due to her anger at Finn and Eridanus.”

Tiki glanced at Donegal from the corners of her eyes.
He spoke as if knew Larkin so well. Did he? What exactly was their relationship?

Done
gal shook his head. “But none of it matters anymore. Her sister is long dead and if Larkin were truly UnSeelie then we would have destroyed the Seelie Court and ruled Faerie together.” He heaved a sigh. “But instead, now she taunts me and spies on my Court with my
brother
, of all people.” He scowled. “I should have killed her when I had the chance.”

Tiki
drew the folds of her gown close over her chest, suddenly chilled. “Why didn’t you?”

“
That’s a good question.”  He reached out lightning fast and grabbed Tiki’s arm, his grip like a vise. His voice changed to a deadly murmur. “But a better question is how does a
leanan sidhe
throw a lightning bolt strong enough to kill a hellhound?”  He brought his face so close to hers Tiki could smell his putrid breath and see the pock-marks on his skin. She tried not to look at the side of his face where the skin had melted when the
liche
had burned to death but it was hard not to stare at the twisted and mangled flesh. Behind them a ripple went through the guards as they reacted to his movement and gripped their weapons tighter. Several moved in their direction.

Tiki stepped back and tried to pull her arm free.
“You’re hurting me.”

Instead of releasing her, Donegal
tightened his grip, examining Tiki’s features as though trying to see through a shrouded window. “I know of only one person who can control the weather like that—and I won’t lose you this time,” he said softly. “GUARDS!” he shouted. “SEIZE HER!”

Tiki
tried again to yank her arm away but Donegal’s fingers were firmly clamped around her thin wrist. The guards rushed toward them, weapons drawn, faces set to attack. Tiki exhaled and visualized her destination. A heartbeat before the first blade was about to pierce her skin—with Donegal still clutching her wrist—the Palace of Mirrors shimmered from view.

But they didn’t arrive at the destination that Tiki had envisioned. Instead when the world shimmered back into view they were
still standing outside the Palace of Mirrors—only a short distance from the guards who had been ordered to seize her.

“
I am the UnSeelie KING,” Donegal roared in Tiki’s face. “You will not transport me against my wishes.”

“
And I am the Queen of the Seelie Court—” Tiki hissed— “You will not steal from me.” With a smooth sweep of her hand she removed her glamour and pulled a knife from inside her boot where it was tucked. She stabbed directly at Donegal’s face but he ducked at the last second. The blade struck him on the shoulder, slipping through his garment and into this skin with surprising ease
.

Donegal growled in p
ain but did not release his hold on her. Instead, he shook Tiki until her head felt like it might topple from her neck. He cupped his hand and blew into his curved fingers, pushing his burning palm toward her face.

Tiki slapped his hand aw
ay as Donegal’s guards rushed at them.

“
GUARDS!” His shout echoed across the landscape like the rumble of thunder. “KILL HER!”

“
MACANNA!” Tiki yelled, praying the Seelie forces had come to the Tor as she had requested. “ATTACK!” She was reaching for the thunderclouds that hung low overhead when another shout echoed even more loudly.

“
STOP!”

In a
stormy burst of wind Larkin suddenly stood between the armed soldiers and where Donegal held Tiki. Nebulous and ethereal in the black garments she still wore she seemed to waver with the weather. Her arms were raised, as if she would physically stop the attack with her bare hands. “YOU WILL NOT HARM THE SEELIE QUEEN.”

The guards slid to a stop, looking fro
m Donegal to Larkin with indecision.

“
Larkin,” Donegal’s voice became deceptively soft. “You do not belong here now. Leave this matter to me or face the consequences.”

Larkin faced
him. “Don’t threaten me. I know your secret, Donegal—you don’t belong on the throne any more than I do.”

Donegal’s face contorted with such rage Tiki feared his eyes might pop from his head.
“LIAR!!! I AM THE WINTER KING—I AM MEANT TO RULE ALL OF FAERIE!!”

“
You’re not a king—the
Cloch na Teamhrach
did not cry out for you—you’re not even pure UnSeelie. I know the secret you’ve tried to keep all these years, Dongeal—you’ve got Seelie blood running in your veins. You’re a half-breed.”

“
LIAR!!!! YOU’RE LYING!!! KILL THEM BOTH!”

In a burst of
strength she didn’t know she had, Tiki jerked her arm free. As the contact broke between her and Donegal he darted away with blinding speed. She whirled, prepared to strike again and froze.

Sullivan
held Larkin from behind, one hand around her neck forcing her head back—the other clutching a curved iron dagger tight at her exposed throat. Donegal stood poised on one side while guards surrounded them with their spears pointed in Larkin’s direction. Sullivan glared at Tiki with hatred in his eyes. “One death for another.”

“
Now what will you do, Seelie Queen?” Donegal sneered. “Will you sacrifice the life of another to save your own?”

“
No—wait!” Tiki cried. “That was a
dog
that died—you can’t possibly mean to—”

“
Larkin is a SPY!” Donegal screamed. “A TRAITOR! A LIAR! I should have done this long ago!”

Larkin’s lips barely moved but Tiki heard the faerie as if she’d shouted
. “Save Clara.”

Donegal waved his arm at Sullivan.
“I’m done with Larkin. KILL HER!”

Like drawing a bow across
the strings of a fiddle, Sullivan pulled the blade across Larkin’s throat.

Chapter Forty-Four

Larkin slumped in Sullivan’s m
eaty arms and her eyes went dark—like the light of the sun suddenly blocked behind a black cloud.

For a second Tiki couldn’t mov
e. Was it possible? Had that monster really killed Larkin?

Even Donegal seemed stunned at what he had done and stared unmoving at Larkin’s still body.

In the next moment chaos erupted around them—Macanna exploded from the forest and attacked the UnSeelie soldiers. Cries and shouts rent the air as blades flashed and blood spilled.

As
reality sank in, Tiki screamed until it was as if the very air shrieked with her pain and rage. She didn’t remember moving but found she stood over Larkin’s dead body, as if to protect her from further harm. She searched the crowd for Rieker or Dain, Toran or
anyone
who could help her—but she was alone.

In her agony, Tiki
reached for the skies and pulled the storm down on top of them. The wind howled and gusted like a wild animal, blowing the UnSeelie soldiers back from Larkin’s still body and encircling Tiki in a whirlwind. Fury like she’d never known filled her and Tiki struck—shooting a bolt of pure white light directly at Donegal.

He moved at the last sec
ond, but only enough to dodge the full brunt of the attack. The shot spun him around and knocked him to his knees, black smoke rising from his thigh. It was from that position—as Tiki she drew back to strike again—that he disappeared.

She aimed instead for Sullivan
who swerved through the crowd of fighting soldiers, hiding among those in battle. Tiki caught sight of him and attacked. The bolt struck him on the shoulder as he dove behind a large column. With a cry of rage, she thrust her hands above her head and lightning forked the sky until it looked like the heavens would split into a million pieces. Thunder shook the ground making it difficult to stand. Screams of fear mingled with the cacophony of noise until the world was a swirl of chaos.

As the soldiers battled around her
Fial appeared and raced to where Tiki stood guarding Larkin’s dead body. He fell to his knees next to Larkin, pulling her onto his lap, his hands cupping her face.

“
Breanna,” he pleaded, “wake up.  Bree—wake up, my love—I’m here.” He gave her a shake as if to wake her and her head fell back, revealing the terrible gash across her neck.

Tears ran down Tiki’s face as she bent and put her hand on his sho
ulder.  He looked up at her, as if just realizing she was there, the anguish on his face so raw, Tiki wanted to look away, but she couldn’t.

“
What has he done?” Fial whispered. He looked back down at Larkin, limp in his arms. “What has my brother done?”

H
e pulled Larkin to his chest, hugging her tight, one hand supporting her head as he rested his cheek against her golden hair. A low cry rose from his chest getting louder and louder until he tipped his head back and a howl of pure pain split the night. “BREANNNNNNAAAAA!”

Her name echoed among
the trees to the sky and carried on the wind until the entire world resonated with his torment. It was then that the skies opened up and sheets of rain began to fall as if the heavens cried with him.

DONEGAL
ARRIVED INSIDE the Great Hall. A wisp of smoke rising from the hole in his thigh as if the inside of his leg was on fire.

“
Bar the doors!” He cried to the few guards who remained within the hall as he limply toward the Dragon Throne. “Where are they?” he cried as Sullivan joined him. His tánaiste was also bleeding from his shoulder, his arm hanging limply at this side. Outside, the sounds of the fighting rang out.

“
There.” Sullivan pointed. Cruinn and Scáthach, along with six guards, stood in the shadows behind the Dragon Throne. “They’ve captured the Seelie Queen’s companions—just as we planned.”

“
You found them,” Donegal said as he drew close to the prisoners. Rieker, disguised as a Redcap, and Dain, still dressed as one of Donegal’s guards, stood on small, precariously balanced platforms, their arms cinched behind their backs with nooses tight around their necks. Should the platforms they stood upon be kicked free, or should they slip, they would hang before anyone could cut them down.

“
Aye, they were trying to cut through the ropes to free the girl, just as you knew they would” Cruinn said, “but we stopped them before they finished their work.” He motioned to the golden net that hung nearby, still weighted with Clara’s small body. “The mortal girl is still our prisoner—our bait.”

Donegal drew near and peered into their faces.
“Remove your glamours,” he snapped, “before I slice your throats to see what you really look like.”  He grabbed a dagger from a sheath on Cruinn’s belt and pushed the point of the knife into the soft spot below Dain’s ear until blood dribbled down his neck. Then he turned to Rieker. “Do it now or your comrade dies.”

Rieker only hesitated for a moment before whispering the words that would remove his glamour.  Donegal took a step back as the vision of the Redcap melted away to be replaced with Rieker’s handsome features and strong
, tall body. He sneered at the Winter King with no sign of fear.

“
As I suspected,” Donegal said softly. He turned to Dain and flicked his knife in his direction. “Now you.”

Dain didn’t move.

“Not only will I kill him—” Donegal motioned to Rieker— “but I will kill the child as well and you can watch.”

Dain’s glamour melted away to be replaced with his true features.

“
You
,” Donegal spat. “I locked you in the White Tower as a spy for a reason. You should have died there or in the forest being hunted as the Seven Year King. If it weren’t for Larkin and that ridiculous excuse of a queen you would have been dead long ago.” His lips pulled back from his teeth, the whites of his eyes showing like a wild animal. “But it’s Larkin who is dead and she will never save you again.”