The Faerie Ring (12 page)

Tiki reached out and put a gentle hand on the little girl’s head, unable to hold back the tear that ran down her face. The drop landed on Clara’s cheek, and she opened her eyes to look up at Tiki. Her eyes sprang to life and she lifted her arms to hug the older girl as sobs shook her frail little shoulders.

“I thought you’d left me,” she sobbed. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

“Shhh,” Tiki said. “Shh, little Clara, everything’s all right. We will always love you and will never leave you, I promise.”

“Clara, we brought you a hot-cross bun,” Fiona said in a bright voice. She pulled the squashed bun from the pocket of her dress and showed it to the little girl.

Clara gave a hiccuping sigh. She pulled Tiki’s hand to her cheek, then reached out to take the bun from Fiona.

“Are you working hard at feeling better?” Tiki leaned down close to Clara’s face as the little girl laid her head back down on the pillow.

“I will now.” She rested her cheek on Tiki’s hand. “Now that I know you’ll come for me.”

“Clara, we’ll never leave you. We’re your family,” Tiki said. “We only brought you here because you were too sick to stay with us. We needed the hospital’s help to get you well. That’s why you’re here. And when you’re feeling much better and stop coughing, then you’ll come home with us.”

Fiona leaned down, slightly breathless. “And we’re going to live someplace new with food in the cupboards and Tiki’s going to go to a ball at the— Ouch!” Fiona narrowed her eyes at Tiki. “Why’d you kick me?”

“We’ll tell Clara about all that later.” Tiki gave Fiona a look before she turned back to Clara. “But for now, all you need to concentrate on is getting well enough to come home. And we’ll all be together again and I’ll tell you a story every night before bed.”

“Okay.” Clara sighed, her eyes beginning to droop again. “Will you tell me more faerie stories, like your mum told you?”

“Yes, of course. For now you need to sleep, but listen to me, Clara. Even if you don’t see us for a few days, we are thinking of you always and love you very much. We will be back for you. Never, never forget.”

“And we’ll bring you another bun,” Fiona added.

Clara nodded, watching Tiki’s face with adoring eyes. “You look pretty, Teek.”

“It’s going to be different when you come home. We’re going to be warm all the time and we’re always going to have enough food to eat.” Tiki felt Fiona giving her a questioning look, but she ignored her.

“Truly?” Clara whispered, her eyes brightening again.

“Yes, truly.” Tiki smoothed the blond curls from her forehead. “Now the very most important thing is for you to sleep and eat everything the nurses give you so you can get stronger and come home. Okay?”

“Okay.” Clara nodded as another deep cough shook her body.

Tiki pulled a piece of lavender lace from inside her coat. It was a shred she’d kept from one of her mother’s dresses. “Here, let me tie this around your wrist. If you ever doubt me, you look at this piece of lace and know this is my promise to you that I’ll be back.”

“It’s preetiful,” Clara said in an awestruck voice. She ran a little finger over the delicate lace, her lips curving in a tired smile. “Thank you, Tiki.”

“You’re welcome. Now close your eyes and we’ll stay here for just a minute and hold your hand while you fall asleep, just like always.”

Tiki clutched the small hand in hers and leaned down to gently kiss her cheek. “I love you, little Clara,” she whispered. “Get well soon.”

It took only a few moments before Clara fell asleep, a smile on her thin face.

“Come on, Teek, we better go.” Fiona tugged at Tiki’s sleeve.

Tiki laid Clara’s hand on the pillow, the little strip of lavender lace around her wrist a spot of color against her pale skin. She straightened up and followed Fiona from the quarantine room. They went down a long hall. Several carts filled with items for the hospital rooms were parked in between doors that led to other wards.

Tiki gazed up and down the hallways as they wound their way back to the entrance, trying to explain the unsettled feeling that rode her shoulders like a witch’s cat. Flickers of faces, brief images of people standing near her, came and went so fast that she tried to tell herself she was imagining things. Rieker’s warning was never far from her mind. The sooner she could get rid of the ring and return the stone to the royals, the better.

As they passed the waiting room on their way toward the exit, Tiki glanced in at the throng of people waiting to be seen by the doctors. Her eyes stopped on a blond head, and her heart skipped a beat. A familiar face stared at her. It was the girl she’d seen at King’s Cross. The same girl from Mr. Potts’s bookstore, the one who had asked about Clara. She was sure of it. Then the crowd shifted and she was gone.

Chapter Eleven

T
HE
day of the masked ball at the palace dawned cool and clear.

Tiki was a bundle of nerves from the minute she woke up. The idea of pretending to belong to a crowd who hobnobbed with the royals was almost beyond her imagination. Pure desperation was the only excuse she could think of for how she came up with such a crazy idea.

She pushed her way out their room and wandered down the bustling hallways of the railway station, trying to calm the fear bubbling in her stomach. Saturdays were always the busiest day of the week at Charing Cross, and today was no exception. The crowds were thick and the people seemed harried, rushing this way and that, trying to avoid the overloaded trolleys that weaved through the throng.

Tiki sank onto a bench outside Mr. Potts’s bookstore, mentally reviewing her plan one more time.

“What’s the scowl for? Not enough people to pickpocket for you?”

Rieker slid onto the bench next to Tiki, his long legs stretched out, his shoulder brushing against hers. She flushed at the unexpected contact, and a wave of nervousness washed over her. Damn Rieker anyway. Why did he always make her feel like this?

“Hello, Rieker.” She made sure her voice stayed even.

He rested his elbows on his knees and crooked his neck to look back at her. “How’s your little girl?”

Not for the first time, she noticed how straight his nose was, somehow fitting the contours of his face perfectly. A light stubble was evident along his jaw, and when his hair fell back Tiki could see another scar just behind his ear. The mark was a jagged shape, bleached white with time, and looked as though it had been quite painful once. She fought the urge to reach out and trace the scar, as though to wipe away the hurt the wound must have caused.

Instead, she threaded her fingers together in her lap. “She’s in hospital,” Tiki said quietly. “I couldn’t help her.”

To her surprise, Rieker reached over and slid his big hand over hers. “You did the right thing, Tiki. They have the means to care for her there.”

The purple shadows that had colored the skin under his eyes previously were gone today. He looked well rested and healthy, his smoky eyes calm and reassuring. She wanted to believe him.

“But what if I can’t bring her home again?” Tiki bit hard on her bottom lip, hoping Rieker hadn’t heard the telltale waver in her voice.

“If I know you, Tiki, you’ll find a way.” Rieker gave her a half-smile. The timbre of his voice was mesmerizing and seemed to pull her toward him. His brow dipped in a quizzical frown. “I may not have mentioned this before, but you have the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re like—”

“Just like the green hills of Ireland,” a voice interrupted them. “Yeah, yeah. It’s what ol’ Potts says all the time.” Toots came to a stop in front of them. “What are you doing out here, Teek? Fiona’s been looking for you.”

Tiki pushed off the bench and got to her feet before Rieker could see the blush that warmed her cheeks. She wondered if he was silently laughing at her. No doubt his compliments were simply a ploy to try to talk her out of the ring. Well, after tonight there was no chance of that.

Rieker stood, too, towering over the two of them.

“Have you thought any more about our conversation, Tiki?” Rieker moved closer, his hand brushing the back of her arm. His words were soft. “I need your help.”

Tiki jerked her arm back and stepped away. “I’m sorry.” She was surprised to find that she meant it. “But I can’t help you, Rieker. I don’t have what you’re looking for.” She felt a twinge at the lie, but she reminded herself that it would be the truth soon enough.

*   *   *

“D
ID
you get it?” Toots asked in a hushed voice. The sun had just set as they gathered in their little room in Charing Cross. Everyone’s eyes were locked on Tiki.

“Yes.” She dug into the deep pockets of her trousers and pulled out the wad of dirty fabric. “I’ve got it right here.” She balanced the bundle on the palm of her outstretched hand and peeled the folds back. Gasps of awe filled the room as the queen’s ring was revealed.

Tiki held up the ring so the others could see the bloodred stone wrapped in gold. The flames flickered deep within the gem as brightly as ever, infusing her hand with a strange kind of warmth.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” Fiona cried. “Can I hold it?”

“Don’t drop it,” Toots said.

“Are you daft? I’m not going to drop it, you—”

“Shh … we can all take turns,” Tiki said. “Then I’m going to put it away until I leave.” They didn’t know about the truce, so she didn’t tell them that she was afraid the faeries might know it was in her possession and come after her. Damn Rieker anyway. Sometimes she wished she didn’t know the truth.

After they had all had time to gaze into the depths of the stone, Tiki took the ring back and wrapped it within the folds of the dirty cloth. She shoved it back in her pocket with a sense of relief.

“I still don’t know where you came up with this mad idea, Teek,” Toots said. A wide grin split his face. “But I think it’s bloody brilliant to sneak into the ball. Are you planning on picking a few gems off those fancy ladies?” His eyes were round with wonder. “It’d be like being in a shop full of sweets.”

“I still think it sounds too risky,” Shamus said in a low voice. He sat before the stove, whittling again, a worried expression on his face.

“Well, she’s going,” Fiona interrupted. “And she can’t go looking like a crossing sweep. So you two better hustle down to the fountain and fill those buckets we nicked from Mr. Binder with some water for her to wash.” Fiona put her hands on her hips and scowled at Shamus and Toots.

The boys scrambled out the back door to do Fiona’s bidding, and Tiki laughed in a giddy sort of way. Strange bubbles filled her stomach, making her feel light and heavy and tipsy all at the same time. It
was
madness to think she could attend a royal ball. What would they do to her if she was caught? But she pushed the thought away. She had to do it. Returning the ring was the only way to get the reward. And she needed the reward to pay for Clara’s care.

It wasn’t long before Shamus and Toots returned with full buckets. The only way to heat the water was to put the bucket on top of the stove. Since that quantity of water would take too long to heat, she and Fiona arranged the two buckets of cold water behind the tattered blanket that worked as their privacy screen.

Tiki poked her head around the edge. “Why don’t you two go visit Mr. Potts for a bit? And maybe you can round us up something to eat.”

Shamus’s face colored. “Oh. C’mon, Toots.” He nudged the younger boy, and they slipped out into the station.

“Do you want to wash, too?” Tiki looked over at Fiona and motioned to the water.

“Nah.” Fiona grinned at her. She had smudges of dirt along her jaw and over one eye from wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “What’s the point?” She dug into the pocket of her trousers. “But look what I nicked from the hospital when we were there.” Balanced on her dirty fingers was a chunk of white soap.

“Where did you get that?”

“There was a box of them sitting on a cart we walked by.” Fiona shrugged. “It looked like they had plenty to me. Let’s wash your hair first so it has time to dry.”

Tiki couldn’t hold back a gasp of shock as Fiona slopped the cool water on her head. The other girl scrubbed vigorously, trying to spread the soap through Tiki’s thick, dark hair.

“Easy, Fi. I don’t want my head to start bleeding.”

“Sit on the floor and lean back and I’ll dip your head in the bucket,” Fiona instructed. “That’s the only way we’re going to get all the soap off.” By the time they were done, there was more water on the floor than left in the buckets. Tiki was shaking uncontrollably, but her skin was clean and even her hair smelled fresh.

She shivered as she rubbed herself dry with the cleanest edge of one of their tattered blankets, anxious to move closer to the heat of the box stove. She slipped on a long shirt that doubled as her nightgown and pulled a crate over near the warmth. Fiona came and stood behind her, finger-combing the long strands.

A moment later, Tiki squirmed as Fiona tugged at her hair with the small filigreed brush. “Careful, Fi,” Tiki warned her. “I want to leave some hair on my head.”

“It’s just so tangled. You should brush it more often,” Fiona said, unconcerned. “Especially now that we have a brush. Sit still, I’m almost done.”

*   *   *

A
N
hour later, Tiki’s hair was almost dry and she was warm and comfortable next to the fire. The boys still hadn’t returned.

“Okay, let’s get this dress on,” Fiona said, “and see where I have to take it in.”

Tiki’s heart was beating like a stick on a tin can, and her fingers were fumbly, which was a rare state for her.

“How will you do that?” she asked.

“I’ve got a bit of thread and a needle. It’s all you need.” Fiona picked up the dress. “Lift your arms up.”

“Don’t poke me.” Tiki’s voice was muffled as yards and yards of fabric seemed to swallow her. She wiggled to maneuver the dress over her head, and then the gown settled like a cloud over her shoulders and down her hips.