The Faerie Ring (7 page)

You must tell to me, Tam Lin,

Ah, you must tell to me.

Were you once a mortal knight

Or mortal hall did see?”

Tiki lowered her voice. “Tam Lin told Janet that he had been human once. When hunting in the wood one day, he had fallen from his horse. It was then that the Faerie Queen had stolen him away.”

“Where did she take him?” Clara asked in a worried tone. “Did she keep him forever?”

Tiki shook her head, a solemn expression on her face. “No. You see, every seven years faeries have to make a payment. It’s called a tithe.”

“A payment?” Toots interrupted. “Who do they pay?”

“Shush, Toots.” Fiona glared at him. “That’s not important. Go on, Tiki.”

Tiki started again. “The important part was that Tam Lin was afraid
he
was going to be the payment. He needed to escape before the Faerie Queen sacrificed him.”

“How?” Clara asked. Then with a gasp she covered her mouth with her hand and looked at Fiona with wide eyes.

Tiki ignored the interruption. “Tam Lin had a plan. But it was dangerous. He needed Janet’s help. Here’s what he said:

Tomorrow night is Samhein

And the Faerie Folk do ride

Those that would their true love win

At Miles Cross must hide.”

“What’s Samhein?” Toots asked.

“Samhein is summer’s end,” Tiki said. “Right around the end of October when the harvests are over. It’s said that the veil between our world and the Otherworld is at its thinnest then.”

“Tell us what happened at Miles Cross,” Clara said.

“So Janet went to the crossroads and hid behind a thornbush to wait. Close to midnight she heard the soft sweet sound of music. The magic strumming of a lute. The eerie cry of a bagpipe, the haunting notes of a flute.” Tiki’s voice got softer. “A procession came into view led by the Faerie Queen herself, riding on her black horse. Janet could see the faces of the faerie lords and ladies, and there in the middle, astride a great white horse, was her own beloved, Tam Lin. She remembered what Tam Lin had told her:

First you let pass the black horse

Then you let pass the brown

But run up to the milk white steed

And pull the rider down.

“He had warned her that the faeries would change him into different shapes, making it difficult for her to hold on to him. But hold she must, for that was the only way he would be freed.”

Tiki motioned with her hand. “As the horses drew near, Janet let the black horse pass, then the brown. When the white horse approached she sprang from her hiding place and ran over to pull Tam Lin down. Immediately he changed into a raging lion, but Janet buried her head in his chest and held on tight. Then he became a huge, coiled snake.” Tiki’s words became rushed. “Still, Janet wouldn’t release him. From there he became a water serpent and finally a burning coal. Tam Lin had told her this would be the last transformation, so she threw the burning coal into the well, as Tam Lin had instructed her to do.”

Tiki raised her hands above her head. “A great gust of steam rose from the well and a naked man stepped out. Janet quickly wrapped him in her green cloak and hid him from view, and Tam Lin became human again.”

Tiki looked at each of them. “The Faerie Queen blazed with anger. She didn’t think a mortal could ever outsmart her.”

“What did she do?” Clara whispered.

“The Faerie Queen said:

If I’d have known of this, Tam Lin,

That some lady borrowed thee,

I’d have plucked out thine eyes of flesh

And put in eyes from a tree

If I’d have known of this, Tam Lin,

Before we came from home,

I’d have plucked out thine heart of flesh

And put in a heart of stone.

“And with that,” Tiki said, “the Faerie Queen wheeled her horse around, and with her band of faeries following, she disappeared into the trees, leaving Tam Lin with Janet.”

“And the Faerie Queen never stole him again?” Clara asked.

“No.” Tiki shook her head. “He lived the rest of his days as a mortal.”

“Do you think that story is true, Teek?” Fiona asked. “That Tam Lin really lived?”

Tiki smiled at her. “My mum said it was true.”

“Do you think the faeries gave you the birthmark like your mum said, too?” Clara asked in a dreamy voice.

Tiki forced a laugh. “Well, if the faeries gave me my mark, they forgot to give me any of the powers that go along with it.”

“But you see things,” Clara insisted. “I know you do.”

Startled at the little girl’s comment, Tiki busied herself by poking at the coal in the stove. She did see things. She always had. Shadowed faces, there one minute, gone the next. Flashes of light where none should exist. The uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched. Perhaps it was time to pay more attention to things she had previously considered to be her imagination.

*   *   *

W
HEN
Tiki awoke the next morning, Rieker clouded her thoughts. She’d had a dream that his smoky eyes were floating in the sky above her, staring down, watching her. Then suddenly a million sets of eyes were watching her, every way she turned. Panicked, she’d run, but her feet moved in slow motion, causing her to stumble. Instead of landing on the ground, she’d fallen and kept falling into endless darkness. She’d jerked awake with a start, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm in her chest, the image of Rieker’s eyes slowly fading.

“You awake, Teek?” Shamus asked. He was crouched in the back of the room, poking at the stove with the metal pole.

A deep hacking cough erupted from the blankets beside Tiki, and she sat up to pile another blanket on Clara’s tiny form. “Did the stove go out?”

“Not all the way,” Shamus replied. “We’re almost out of coal, though. I just loaded the last in.” His eyes locked on hers with a significant look. “We’re going to have to round up some more coal, or find a way to buy some. It’s a cold one out there today, and it feels like it’s going to get colder.”

“No luck yesterday?”

Shamus shook his head.

Tiki ran her cool fingers over Clara’s warm forehead and smoothed the little girl’s hair away from her face. She was asleep with her mouth partially open, her breath coming out in raspy gasps.

“It’s too cold to go without. Use some of those coins I got from MacGregor the other night and buy some more coal.” Tiki gave Clara’s blanket a final adjustment, then moved closer to Shamus. “I’ll see if I can pick some pockets. But we need to figure out a way to sell the ring.” She paused to make sure she had his full attention. “I saw something yesterday. A handbill. The royals know it’s gone and they’re looking for it. Offering a reward, even.”

Tiki reached for her tin mug that still had the remains of some tea leaves from yesterday and poured hot water into the cup.

“We’ve got to be very careful,” Shamus said. “If they caught the likes of us with the queen’s ring, we’d never see the light of day again.”

“I know.” Tiki’s voice was grim. “I went and checked on the thing yesterday and saw Prince Leopold in St. James’ Park. He practically caught me. I know he suspected something.”

“What? Why did you go check on it?” Shamus sounded angry. “You run a risk every time you go near it.”

“I couldn’t help it.” Tiki wasn’t even sure why herself. “I just had to. Like the ring was pulling me somehow.” She took a sip of the hot drink. “Then Rieker said something about it and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Rieker? Where’d you see him?” Shamus frowned at her. “An’ what’s he got to do with the ring?”

“He was outside Charing Cross.” Tiki took another drink from her cup and tried to ignore the knot of worry that sat like a rock in her stomach. “I think he was waiting for me.” Her voice dropped. “He knows I took the ring, Shamus. I swear I didn’t tell him. But somehow he knows.”

Shamus’s lips pressed together in a thin line. His blond hair hung long around his face, shadowing the angles under his cheekbones. “This is getting dangerous, Tiki. First thing tomorrow we pick some pockets and get some coal. Then I’m going over to Cheapside myself and find out who can fence the ring so we can get rid of the thing.”

Chapter Seven

T
IKI
heaved a sigh of relief as she sat on the bench in King’s Cross Monday afternoon. Her feet ached with tiredness from the ground she’d covered, but she was pleased with her success. As the busiest railway station in London, King’s Cross was always fertile ground for picking pockets. In one snatch she’d even slipped a small bag full of coins from a woman’s satchel, no one the wiser. Tiki grinned. There were times when she even impressed herself.

Her grin faded, though, as she recalled one close call. It had only been because she’d become distracted by that girl again. Thinking of her, Tiki scanned the faces of the travelers hurrying between trains. More than once today, she’d glanced over her shoulder and seen her. Her beauty was striking, almost haunting. She had pale skin and blond hair, giving her an ethereal appearance. The graceful curve of her neck, the effortless way she moved, drew Tiki’s eyes back to search for her time and again.

Tiki’s eyes locked on a slim figure standing at a nearby bookstall.

There she was again.

She wore a flowing green cloak, and her blond hair hung in perfect ringlets down her back. As Tiki watched, the girl glanced over her shoulder and gazed directly at her. Tiki was startled by the challenging look in her eyes.

Was she another pickpocket? She wasn’t dressed as though she scrabbled for a living. Tiki pushed off the bench and hurried toward her. She was going to find out why the girl was following her.

“S’cuse me,” Tiki called to the girl. “Do I know you?” She was close enough now that she could see the blue green color of the girl’s eyes, reminding her of the sea in summer. But there was something in the other girl’s expression, in how her eyes were fixed so intently on Tiki, that was unsettling. Her mouth curved slightly, as if she were enjoying an entertainment.

“Not yet.” The words were barely a whisper, but Tiki heard them as if she had shouted. Then the girl turned and stepped into a crowd of people and was gone.

“Nah, I don’t think I knows you, boy,” the bookseller said to Tiki. He scrunched his eyebrows down as he answered. “Who’s you lookin’ for?”

Tiki glanced at the bookseller in surprise, then darted after the girl, craning her neck this way and that, searching the crowd. But the girl with blond ringlets was nowhere to be seen. Uneasy, Tiki stepped back to the bookstall, where the vendor watched her with curious eyes.

“S’cuse me, did that blond girl buy anything?”

The bookseller crooked an eyebrow at her. “What blond girl are you talking about? I ain’t seen no blond girl.” His bemused expression turned into a frown. “Is this some trick so you can snitch something? Get out of here.” He waved his hand at her. “Ye’re not going to pull a fast one on ol’ Dickie Betts.”

Tired from her long day and suddenly wary, Tiki hurried from King’s Cross and headed home. More than once she looked over her shoulder.

The lamplighter had already lit the streetlamps by the time Tiki returned to Charing Cross. As she drew closer to the station, hail started pounding down from the skies in a sheet of white, bouncing off the cobblestones as if thrown by some angry deity. She looked up in surprise at the unexpected onslaught and was immediately rewarded with the painful sting of the small ice chunks pelting her face. She yanked her jacket over her head and raced toward the entrance.

Several bobbies stood under a protective overhang, swinging their sticks and talking. Tiki decided not to chance catching their eye and veered over to the far side of the building to follow the alley to the entrance through the maintenance tunnels.

As suddenly as the hail started, the deluge stopped. Long shadows stretched between the tall buildings. Sometimes people slept in the darkness of the alleyway, when they had nowhere else to go or were too drunk to get there. Tiki could see an occasional silhouette of a body stretched along the cobblestones, sleeping or passed out. She counted her blessings again that Fiona and Shamus had taken her in and let her share the old clockmaker’s shop two years ago. At least they didn’t have to sleep outside in the elements, like these poor souls.

She was almost to the door that led into the maintenance tunnels when a hand clamped around her arm and yanked her backward. Only a sliver of light cut through the darkness of the alley, but it was enough for Tiki to see her assailant’s face, twisted with emotions she didn’t understand, staring down at her. He was beautiful in a dangerous way, with almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones, and black hair pulled back tight against his head.

She let out a scream, but her attacker clapped his free hand down hard over her mouth and pushed her against a brick wall with enough force to knock the breath from her body. He grabbed her hands and wrenched them over her head, pinning her thin wrists together with one hand.