Rise of the Darklings (24 page)

Emily glared at Corrigan. “Don’t be stupid. Why would we kill anyone?”

Corrigan shrugged. “You never know. You humans are a bloodthirsty lot. I see you’ve still got your little pet following you around.”

“My what?” She followed his gaze. He was looking at Jack. “Oh.”

Jack’s face twisted with outrage. He aimed a kick at Corrigan, but the piskie danced out of the way. “This way,” he said, turning a corner.

“I thought we were going to see Queen Kelindria,” said Emily. “That’s not the way we went before.”

“We’re not going to Underlondon,” called Corrigan, scampering ahead.

Emily hurried after the piskie. “What do you mean? Where are we going?”

“The Queen said that if you got the stone, I was to take you to the house she uses when she’s up here. Quicker that way.”

They walked on through quiet streets lined by darkened houses. Emily fretted all the way. She had the means to find William in her pocket, and it seemed to her that Corrigan was taking too long to take them to their destination.

Finally, after about half an hour, Corrigan stopped before a high wall.

“We’re here.”

Emily looked up. The wall towered above her, and tree branches hung over the top as if reaching for the ground. The gates were made from polished wood, coaxed and shaped to look like twining branches, so it was as if the trees themselves were barring entrance into the grounds.

Emily peered through the gates. Everything was overgrown, a tangle of grass and flowers gone wild. A stone path, with thick grass between the gaps, twined around the shrubs and trees and led to a large house that was just visible through the vegetation.

Corrigan pushed open the gates. Jack made as if to step through, but Corrigan held up a hand to stop him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“With you,” said Jack, puzzled.

“Not a chance. If the Queen found out I gave you the sight, she’ll have my hide. You’ll have to stay out here.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Emily laid a hand on his arm. “It’ll be all right. We shouldn’t be long. Isn’t that right?” she asked Corrigan.

“Eh, no. Not too long.”

“You see? We’ll meet you back out here.”

“I’m not happy with this, Snow.” Jack lowered his voice. “I don’t trust him.”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t have a choice. Not if I want to get William back. Please, Jack. For me?”

Jack hesitated, then finally nodded. “Fine. I’ll see you back here.” He glared a warning at Corrigan, but the piskie ignored him and stepped through the gate.

Emily followed him through, but they had gone only a few steps into the heavy undergrowth when Corrigan took her hand and pulled her to a stop.

“Wait,” he said.

Emily stood still, wondering what it was they were waiting for.

A second later she saw it: a patch of darkness, moving
slowly through the air. It drew closer to them and Emily saw that it was actually a thick, oily cloud that coiled and writhed like an angry snake. She stiffened in fear.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“The Sluagh. Dead souls. They keep the unwanted out.”

The cloud stopped moving. Corrigan reached out and put his arm into the heaving mass. A second later it moved off again, disappearing into the trees.

Corrigan shivered. “I hate doing that. Right. Come on.”

As they drew closer to the house, Emily saw that its top story was covered in clinging ivy. Even the windows were partially hidden.

Corrigan stepped up to the wooden door and knocked. A second later, it swung silently open to reveal a hallway littered with brown leaves and twigs. Emily couldn’t even see the floor. Corrigan glanced over his shoulder.

“You ready?”

Emily gripped the stone through her coat and nodded at Corrigan. “Ready.”

Corrigan stepped inside and Emily followed, the dry leaves crunching underfoot. The door closed behind her with a quiet click. She turned to look, but there was no one there.

She wondered why she was feeling so uneasy. There was something about the house: it felt … 
haunted
. Which was silly, as she had no idea what a haunted house really felt like.
But the air held a feeling of sadness. As if whoever lived here before had a terribly unhappy life.

A flickering light came from a room at the far end of the corridor. Corrigan was heading toward it, his form outlined in the faint golden glow. He disappeared through the doorway and Emily hurried to catch up, not wanting to be left alone.

Emily stepped into the room. A fire was roaring in the grate. Three armchairs covered with dusty sheets were pushed up against the wall. Emily saw Corrigan’s footprints on the floor, clearly defined in the dust. No one had been in this room for a long time.

“I thought you said the Queen uses this house.”

“She does. Part of it, at least.”

Corrigan approached a door to the left of the fireplace, pausing briefly to pick up an unlit torch from beside the hearth and hold it in the flames. Emily joined him, and the door swung open as they approached. She peered through and saw a very long, very dark corridor, too long to be contained inside the house. More magic.

“Where does it go?”

“To the Queen’s court,” said Corrigan. “Well … to one of them, anyway.”

He stepped through the doorway. Emily bit her lip, then quickly followed. The walls of the passage were made from
smooth wood, polished to a high sheen that reflected the light of Corrigan’s torch and surrounded them in a rich, golden-red glow.

A door appeared up ahead out of the shadows. As they drew closer, Emily saw that it was charred and blackened by what must have been a fierce fire.

Corrigan stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Emily tore her gaze away from the door. “Why do you keep asking me that? Why wouldn’t I be ready? Let’s just hurry up so I can find William. The less time he is in the hands of the Unseelie the better.”

Corrigan cleared his throat. “Of course.” He hesitated. “Emily …,” he said, but then he trailed off into silence.

Emily got the impression he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he turned back and laid his hand against the door.

As soon as his skin made contact, the door shuddered. Dust fell around them, flakes of charred wood dropping at their feet.

Then the door slowly opened, a line of bright light bursting through, shining directly into Emily’s face. She winced and looked away, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the door stood wide open. Emily found herself looking into a room similar to the one where she had first met
the Queen. But this room was smaller, more intimate. To her relief, she saw that it was empty of the courtiers that had made Emily feel so self-conscious.

There was a raised dais at the opposite end of the room. On it was a throne identical to the one Emily had seen in the huge tree in Underlondon, and on this throne sat the Faerie Queen. When she saw Emily, her eyes widened and she looked quickly at Corrigan, her pale, beautiful face radiating hope.

“Did you get it? Did you get the stone?”

Emily hesitated, glancing uncertainly at the piskie. How did the Queen know Emily had gone after the stone? After all, she had only decided to try and get it after she had left the Queen and found out William was missing. Had Corrigan somehow managed to get word to her?

Corrigan wouldn’t look at Emily. Instead, he turned all his attention to the Queen. “She retrieved it,” he said softly.

The Queen broke into a huge smile and held out both her arms, almost as if she was going to run forward and hug Emily. But she didn’t. She waited for a split second, then gestured impatiently from her throne, her golden eyes shining with excitement. “Come, child! Show it to me.”

Corrigan prodded her in the leg. Emily walked slowly forward and stopped just below the dais. Then she reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out the stone.

The Queen drew in a sharp breath and reached down with trembling fingers. Then she took the stone in her hands, her expression rapt.

“Finally,” she whispered.

Emily cleared her throat. She had fulfilled her part of the bargain. Now it was the Queen’s turn. “Excuse me,” she said.

The Queen, still staring at the stone, did not even look up.

“Excuse me,” Emily said again, in a louder voice.

This time the Queen did look up, an irritated frown marring her perfect features. It took her a moment to focus on Emily, and even then it was as if she didn’t recognize her.

Emily took a deep breath. “My brother … that is, William. He was taken by the Unseelie. I need to get him back. Corrigan said you would be able to find him with the stone, in return for me getting it back for you.”

The Queen smiled again, but this time there was no joy in it. It was a cold smile and sent shivers down Emily’s spine.

“Is that what Corrigan said, was it?” The Queen glanced at Corrigan, who was standing next to Emily. “Well then, who am I to break his word? Let us see what can be done.”

She raised a hand in the air. There was a movement behind the throne, and a figure detached itself from the shadows.

It was the Dark Man, the Queen’s huntsman, the stealer of eyes.

Emily swallowed nervously. She hadn’t even noticed him there. He moved slowly forward, shrouded in his heavy black cloak and hood. She remembered the first time she had seen the Dark Man, when he had brought the elf before the Queen, the fear on the creature’s face. What was he doing here?

The Queen raised the stone to her eye so that she was looking through it. “Now. Let us see where those
terrible
Unseelie fey have taken your brother,” she said.

Emily waited expectantly, fear and anticipation battling inside of her. She had no idea what she would do when she found out where William was being held. Would Corrigan help her? After all, he owed her a favor. Maybe—

But a second later all such thoughts vanished from her mind. From her position, Emily could see through the hole of the stone, could see the Queen’s eye as she peered through the opening.

And she saw that eye turn from a rich gold to an oily, viscous black. The Queen turned slowly in her throne, and as she turned Emily saw that the Queen’s face, when looked at
through
the stone, was different. Her skin was saggy and wrinkled. What hair Emily could see through the hole was white and brittle. One of her fingers curled through the opening, and it was like a twig on a tree, thin and spindly.

The Queen lowered the stone, and once again sat before
Emily, beautiful, pale, red-haired. “Ah,” she said with an amused smile. “I think I have found your brother, young Emily.”

She made an impatient gesture. The Dark Man moved around the pedestal and knelt in front of the Queen. Then he stood up and stepped to the side, leaving something lying at the Queen’s feet.

Emily looked down. It took her a moment to realize what it was she was looking at.

“William,” she whispered, relief and fear surging through her with such force that it almost brought her to her knees.

For it was none other than her brother, seemingly unharmed, his eyes closed as if fast asleep.

But how …?

Why did the Dark Man have her brother?

An answer suggested itself, but it was too horrific a thought for her to acknowledge. No. It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t believe it. That would mean Corrigan …

Emily quickly turned to the piskie, but he steadfastly refused to meet her eyes.

That alone was answer enough.

She whirled back to face the Queen. “
You
took him! It never was the Unseelie.”

The Queen inclined her head. “It is as you say.”

“But … 
why
? What has he ever done to you?”

“Him? Nothing. But you … that is another story altogether. You have long been a thorn in our side, Emily Snow. I have waited two hundred years for this day, do you know that? Two hundred years of waiting, wondering how you would become involved in our fight. And now here you are.”

Emily gaped at the Queen as if she were mad. “What are you talking about? I
helped
you. Why would you do this to me? Corrigan?” She turned to the piskie. This time he met her eyes. “In the alley. I saved you.”

“Yes,” said the Queen. “As I said, we always knew you would eventually stumble upon our kind. Now we know how.”

Emily whirled back to the Queen. “You’re not making any sense!” she said.
“How
could you know about me? What do you mean you’ve waited for this day to come? I—”

“You will be silent,” said the Queen. She held out a hand, and the Dark Man gave her something. It glinted blackly in the light, and Emily realized it was a knife. Before she could react, the Queen leaned forward and held the blade to William’s throat.

“One step and he dies,” she said.

Emily froze in horror as a tiny bead of blood rolled down William’s neck and settled in the hollow of his collarbone
while he slept. No, it couldn’t be sleep. He was unconscious, under some kind of spell.

“Good. Now listen carefully,” said the Queen. “Most of what I told you was true. It
was
Christopher Wren who locked the doorway through to Faerie. If he could, he would have destroyed the key, but that was beyond his power. So he came up with another plan. He hid it, making sure none of his colleagues knew its location. He suspected treachery, you see, and with good cause. We had an agent inside the Order. So he made sure that only one person could find the key. The one person he truly trusted.”

It took Emily a moment to realize what the Queen was saying.

“Me?” she said in amazement. “Don’t be absurd—”

“I am far from absurd, Emily Snow. I am referring to you, yes. We have awaited your arrival for more than two hundred years. We were never sure
when
you would turn up, only that someday you would. And that your arrival would signal the beginning of the end.”

Emily blinked, looking around in a daze. None of this made any sense.

“We don’t know why he chose you. Or how you came to be involved. All we
do
know is that he somehow used magic to attune the seeing stone to you. You are the only person who can use it. You are the only person who can read
the directions to the key’s hiding place. That is what is on that parchment you so kindly returned to Corrigan. The directions to the hidden key.” The Queen leaned back in her throne. “Wren thought himself so clever, hiding the stone in the one place we could never go. But we have had many years to plan for this day.”