Free The Faerie Ring by Kiki Hamilton

of the station, a gust of smoke bellowing from its sides like some mechanical fire-breathing beast. “As there are more of us who don’t believe, their capacity for magic diminishes. Some in the Otherworld think that their only chance for survival is to eliminate us. To take back what was once theirs.”
    Rieker shifted in his chair, his voice low and hushed. “But to do that, they must destroy the ring first. To end the truce.”
    Could it be true? Was that why the royals wanted the ring back so desperately that they were willing to offer up a fortune?
    “You’re in danger, Tiki.” Rieker’s expression was deadly serious. “Some of them, Donegal and those of the UnSeelie court, will stop at nothing to get the ring.” He reached forward and took her hand, wrapping his long fingers around hers. “The fey have a weakness to iron. You should get a knife with a blade made of iron and carry it with you, no matter what.” His voice dropped. “And you’ve got to be prepared to use it.”
    “Tiki!” A shout interrupted their conversation, and Tiki jerked around to see Toots running full speed toward them. She sat up in alarm.
    “Teek,” Toots gasped as he slid to a stop in front of her. His skin was pale under his orange freckles, and his green eyes were bright with panic. “Fiona sent me to find you. She needs you to come quick. Clara’s taken a turn for the worse.”

Chapter Eight
     
    R IEKER stood as Tiki jumped to her feet. “Can I help?”
    “No.” Tiki answered more abruptly than she meant. “I’ve got to go.” Her eyes found Rieker’s for just a second. She was surprised by the compassion she glimpsed there. Her breath caught in her throat.
    “Hurry, Teek.” Toots tugged at Tiki’s arm.
    She grabbed Toots’s hand and they raced for home. She glanced over her shoulder once to make sure Rieker wasn’t following them. She didn’t trust him enough to let him know where they lived.
    “Please let her be okay, please let her get well,” Tiki whispered as they ran back to the abandoned clockmaker’s shop. She gasped for air as they slid into the little room. It was as though a clamp had tightened on her heart.
    Tiki hurried to Fiona’s side where she sat cradling Clara in her lap.
    “She’s hot, Teek. I think she’s got a fever.”
    Tiki leaned down and put her hand on Clara’s forehead. A deep foreboding filled her when she felt how dry and hot the little girl’s skin was. Mr. Lloyd’s warning reverberated in her ears.
    Toots hovered near Fiona, looking over her shoulder at Clara, his face knotted up with worry. “Last year, before my mum told me I was old enough to live on my own, one of my little brothers had the coughing sickness.”
    “And what did she do for him?” Fiona asked.
    There was a long silence before Toots answered. “She buried him.”
    Clara’s breath came out in a slow, raspy gasp and gurgled into a cough.
    “Tiki?”
    Her voice was so weak and low, Tiki could hardly hear her. The little girl opened her eyes just enough to make sure Tiki was there. A small smile flitted across her face, and she reached up. “Who’s that pretty lady with long blond hair?” Tiki leaned down so Clara could wrap her scrawny arm around her neck. Even the skin on her arm felt hot.
    “What blond lady, Clara?” Tiki asked.
    Clara spoke slowly, every word an effort. “She’s in the corner. Can’t you see her?”
    Fiona looked up at Tiki, fear in her eyes. “There’s no one in the corner. Is she dreaming?”
    Tiki shook her head. “She must be. It’s from the fever.”
    “What do we do? Shamus has gone over to Cheapside. No telling when he’ll be back.”
    Tiki’s stomach churned. What could they do? An image of her mother and father flashed before her eyes, dying in their bed of consumption, wasting away to nothing. She hated doctors. They’d been no help when her parents were sick. Memories surfaced of the sharp features of Mrs. Thorndike, her strict governess, who had moved