The Gatekeeper's Trials: The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

Coral choked on her wine. “Thank you.”

  With a smile on her face, Willow walked away. A grin swept my mouth. I might not know many selkies, but I did know that handing over their skin was an act selkies only did to express romantic interest. In selkie terms, she’d blatantly been flirting with Coral.

  I nudged her. “I’m taking a wild guess that she wants to talk to you alone.”

  She looked down at her wine glass. “I’m not supposed to slack off on bodyguard duty.”

  “Aren’t both of you supposed to be my bodyguards? Tell her I’m giving you both a break. For as long as you want.” Coral went brick red, and I gave her another nudge. “Go on. I’m off to mingle.”

  I left Coral spluttering and headed across the room to refill my wine glass. Lord Kerien stepped in to waylay me. “Hazel Lynn.”

  “Lord Kerien.” I gave him a smile and walked past. “Excuse me.”

  He snagged my arm with his fingertips, just enough to give me a warning bite of his magic. His melodic voice dropped to a whisper. “What do you know of the circumstances of the Erlking’s death?”

  He seriously wanted to do this now? “Probably a lot less than you do. Darrow already questioned me.”

  “I’m aware of that,” he said. “However, there are gaps in our knowledge of the events that led to his death.”

  My mouth parted. “Wait, you’re not accusing me?”

  “No.” He took a step closer. “We know the Erlking was shot with an iron-tipped arrow, but not who fired it.”

  Holy shit. That was practically a declaration of war. The Erlking’s defences should have kept a simple bow and arrow out. “Darrow said he had a security beast.”

  “Also shot, multiple times. Each arrow was a perfect shot.”

  Damn. I scrambled to get a grip on my thoughts. “I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

  “We have reason to believe the truth lies in the mortal realm,” he said.

  Did he know the Erlking had sent me a message after his death? Maybe. I’d have thought he’d come out and said it if he had.

  “You’re saying…” I hesitated. “You need someone to take another look at the crime scene?”

  My pulse accelerated. I hadn’t wanted to get involved, not a bit, but that note had been for me alone. If I went to the scene of the crime, I might stand a chance of figuring out who’d killed him. This was an opening I’d be a fool to miss.

  Lord Kerien’s gaze travelled around the room, lingering on Darrow. “Ask Darrow to bring you to the clearing north of the Blood River after tomorrow’s lesson. I will be able to get you inside the Erlking’s territory, but I cannot guarantee your safety.”

  The implication was clear. If the Sidhe found out the truth lay in the mortal realm, they might well haul my family in for questioning again. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

  In the blink of an eye, Lord Kerien was gone. Around me, the Sidhe continued with their conversations. As for Coral and her new friend, their conversation was more of the non-verbal variety. I gave her a wink when we locked eyes, my mood lightening despite the bombshell Lord Kerien had dropped.

  Spotting Darrow, I made a beeline for him. “I didn’t know I was getting my own party. I’m honoured.”

  “It’s custom.”

  “Uh-huh.” I tilted my head. “You aren’t drinking the faerie wine. Not going to spring a surprise training session on me, are you?”

  I bloody hoped not. Faerie wine wasn’t as effective on half-faeries as humans, so he’d have an unfair advantage, considering I was so exhausted that a single glass had turned my knees to jelly.

  “No,” he said. “Why were you talking to Lord Kerien?”

  “He wants to see me after tomorrow’s training session,” I said. “Said he wanted to meet me by the Blood River. You’d know where that is.”

  I’d heard the river ran red with the blood of the Erlking’s enemies, which was creepy as all hell, but that didn’t worry me nearly as much as the notion of getting close to the place where the Erlking had breathed his last.

  A moment passed. “Yes, I do.”

  He’d been there before. Had he spoken to the Erlking himself? Surely not, yet Darrow had more clout with the Sidhe than I’d thought, if Lord Kerien trusted him to bring me near the Erlking’s territory.

  Could I get him drunk enough to start spilling his secrets? I’d seen Sidhe far more stoic than him turn into party animals at Lord Niall’s infamous revels. It was worth a shot.

  I reached for a spare glass from the table and pressed it into his hand. “It’s not poisoned.”

  “Coral prepared you well.” He lifted the glass but didn’t drink. “It’s unwise to let go of your senses even here, Gatekeeper.”

  He was still calling me ‘Gatekeeper’? I’d need him to drink a lot more of that wine if I wanted to win him over.

  “I figured it’d be rude to ignore the refreshments the Sidhe prepared for me,” I said. “And even ruder to lurk in the corner glowering at everyone. Unless it’s just me you have a problem with. If so, please come out and say it.”

  “I don’t have a problem with you,” he said, “but you do have a certain reputation among the other fae.”

  And just what was that supposed to mean? “Says who, exactly?”

  “The master of revels brought up your name.”

  A smile touched my lips. Lord Niall had been spreading tales, had he? Admittedly, I had once tried to seduce him for information on how to find my mother when the Seelie Queen had taken her captive—unsuccessfully, I might add. Never mind that Lord Niall would flirt with his own reflection if the mood took him. “I’m surprised he remembers me.”

  “I heard your family was at the centre of an incident in his house.”

  Aha. So he hadn’t been there. The ‘incident’ in question had involved the Seelie Queen sending a horde of wraiths to attack the Sidhe’s revel, and only my siblings’ quick actions had stopped them from causing a massacre. And Lord Niall, in typical Sidhe fashion, had blamed us for causing the trouble ourselves.

  “Maybe.” I sipped my wine. “But I’m not drunk enough to start talking about horrifying nightmare creatures, and you’re stone cold sober.”

  He picked up the glass and took a sip. Finally. Hiding a smile, I pretended to be interested in refilling my own, though I’d need to get Coral to give me a recipe for an anti-hangover tonic if I wanted to be in top shape for tomorrow’s test. Still, I’d got him intrigued enough to play along. Even if it did involve revisiting unpleasant memories.

  “Tell me, then.” His eyes glittered more than usual, or maybe it was the lighting. “Tell me about these monsters.”

  I finished refilling my wine glass. “Ever seen a wraith?”

  “I can’t say I have. Care to elaborate?”

  His words were carefully chosen, and even in my tipsy state, caution reared its head. Playing games with him wasn’t like playing with a Court member. He could lie if he wanted to, same as me.

  “Wraiths are the ghosts of Sidhe who died without being able to move on,” I said. “They’re like poltergeists jacked up to a thousand, and also have all the powers they had when they were still alive. That’s how they trashed Lord Niall’s house. He, in his infinite wisdom, decided to pin the blame on the only humans present.”

  “He also mentioned you weren’t on the guest list.” He tipped back his glass. “You’re known for flaunting the rules.”

  “Which rules are you talking about?” I had a nice buzz going by now, and with it came a rush of reckless daring. How far could I push him with the mask off and the trainer persona firmly put away? “There’s a long list.”

  “The rule stating that the Gatekeeper is to remain impartial, of course.”

  “The rule says no dating faeries,” I corrected. “It says nothing about doing anything else with them.”

  Let him fill in the gaps there. If he wasn’t so uptight, I’d be tempted to see how soft that silky hair really was close up. On the other hand, I knew pre
cisely how soft, because I’d felt it when he’d caught me in his arms after throwing me off an illusory horse.

  He arched a brow. He couldn’t have guessed my thoughts, could he? “I would expect the Gatekeeper to practise caution at all times around the fae. They aren’t like humans.”

  “Could you be any more patronising?” I sipped my wine, not that it helped me think any straighter. “I don’t know how much time you’ve spent in the mortal realm, but most humans don’t know more about Court law than popular culture. I’ve spent more hours learning how to kill things than I have watching Disney Movies. I don’t care what issue you have with me, but if you imply my mother wasted her time training me and she hears about it, you might as well dig your own grave here and now.”

  Murder accusations aside, I was in no more danger in Faerie than he was. He, unlike me, didn’t have the advantage of a magic-proof shield and a curse tied into my very name.

  “I didn’t mean to imply you haven’t dedicated yourself to your studies.”

  I dipped my head in acknowledgement of the implied apology. Okay. Let’s try again. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was at that party to gain intel on how to find my mother when the Seelie Queen kidnapped her. So you can say caution was first on my mind, and Lord Niall is a prejudiced twat.”

  His eyes widened a fraction. “The Seelie Queen kidnapped her?”

  “Lord Niall didn’t tell you that part, huh.” It was no big secret, but from the sound of things, Darrow hadn’t arrived in the Court until after she’d been jailed. “She also tried to murder her husband. Unsuccessfully, that time.”

  “You might want to reconsider your statement about caution.” He gave me a pointed look. Oh. Right. There were Sidhe everywhere, within hearing distance. Thanks for that one, elf wine.

  “I need a massage,” I said. “You bruised me from head to toe today. I’m starting to think you get a kick out of throwing me around.”

  “It’s my job. Besides, you can hold your own.”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve been training for half my life.” Was I slurring my words? Yes, I was. “So what do they do where you come from? I mean, did you get chosen to come to Summer, or did you volunteer?”

  “What makes you think I’m not from Faerie?”

  Was Coral not supposed to tell me? “You’re way more self-confident than most half-faeries and you aren’t scared of the Sidhe.”

  His expression turned frosty. Perhaps I should have thought before I spoke. Or stopped drinking two glasses ago.

  “I think you’ve had enough wine.” He plucked the glass from my hand.

  “Hey.” I folded my arms. “We’re off duty. No giving me orders.”

  “And were you off duty at Lord Niall’s?”

  I pressed my lips together. “Why not ask Lord Niall yourself, since you two are such good friends?”

  I turned and walked back to Coral before I made a bigger fool of myself. That went well. Maybe I’d get another shot at learning his secrets tomorrow, assuming he didn’t try to tag along to the Erlking’s territory with Lord Kerien and me. And assuming he didn’t tell on us, because I was starting to suspect that Lord Kerien was working behind his fellow Sidhe’s backs by involving me in the investigation at all.

  I needed to tread carefully, or else I’d be dead before the Trials even started.

  7

  I woke up on a bed of leaves under a patch of trees. Sunlight streamed through the branches, while birds trilled and cawed in the background.

  “Oh, you bastard,” I muttered.

  The Trials had officially begun. I lay in the middle of a clearing, wearing only the thin shirt and loose cotton trousers I’d gone to sleep in. No weapons. At least I had my circlet, while Coral had helped me brew up a tonic to prevent hangovers last night and left me some salve to put on the bruises from yesterday. If she hadn’t, I’d be sore as well as groggy and pissed off.

  I pushed to my feet in a rustle of leaves and picked out a fallen branch that looked sharp enough to use as a weapon. Then I spun a glamour to turn my clothes into Court attire and the branch into an iron blade. Anyone who touched it would know the truth, and Darrow himself could unravel the whole thing in a snap of his fingers, but my guess was that he wasn’t here. He’d be watching from a safe distance to see how I performed.

  A cry drifted from the nearby path, and I walked that way. A cage hung suspended between two trees, containing what appeared to be a human male.

  Oh, for god’s sake.

  It didn’t take a genius to know this was a trap. The cage was made of interlocking branches, just high enough that a fall would break bones. A scrap of paper fluttered down from above.

  I picked it up and read, “To pass this test, free the human and escape the forest.”

  “Dammit.” Real or not, the human was part of the test. The trees appeared to be plain old oaks, not dryads, so they wouldn’t try to gouge my eyes out if I climbed them. I rested my foot on the nearest trunk, and a deafening roar sounded from behind me.

  A beast exploded out of the trees, horns curled against its head and tombstone-like teeth dripping with drool. A wild ogre. Cursing, I spun away from the tree and held up the glamoured blade. As I’d hoped, the beast veered to the side to avoid being impaled, its horns tangling among the low-hanging branches.

  The green glow of Summer magic brightened my hands, and I directed it into the tree itself. At once, the branches grew, pushing the ogre back and away from the captive human. Secure that it wouldn’t try to eat either of us, I hauled myself onto a low branch and began to climb until I reached the thick branch supporting the dangling cage. Shimmying across the branch, I pushed more magic into the tree. The cage trembled as the branch lowered, bringing it closer to the earth.

  The beast’s roars grew louder, and splintered branches flew everywhere as it broke free of my trap.

  Shit.

  I blasted the side of the cage with magic, and the human screamed. Extending both hands through the newly created gap in the branches, I urged him to climb out. “Come on!”

  The dazed-looking human caught my hand, and I helped him climb onto the branch. Luckily, his common sense kicked in immediately and he hurried along behind me, jumping for the neighbouring tree. I hadn’t the faintest clue how to get him back to the mortal realm from here, but I’d bully Darrow into showing me later. For now, it was time to get the hell out of this forest.

  “Do you remember how you got in here?” I asked him. “Or the way out?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “All right. Follow me.”

  I hadn’t done much tree-climbing since I’d grown too tall to scale our family’s ancient oak, but the trees in Faerie dwarfed those in the mortal realm. The beast’s thundering footsteps filled the background, interspersed with snapping branches. I threw a glamour over my shoulder, turning the nearest tree into a barrier of branches. The monster would figure out it wasn’t real soon, but it won us some time.

  The trees halted at an expanse of muddy swamp, spreading to either side. “Oh, come on.”

  The swampy water looked like it’d come up to my waist, but who knew what might be lurking underneath. No other way out presented itself, and the human whimpered as the beast’s growls grew louder. Fine, then.

  I shimmied down the tree, then tested the depth of the water with my glamoured stick. Solid enough to walk on. Beckoning to the human, I stepped into the murky water. “Get on my back.”

  He did so, awkwardly clambering onto my shoulders. Moving with a person on my shoulders would hamper my speed even more than usual, but at least he was less likely to fall into the water and drown. As a bonus, I was fairly sure ogres couldn’t swim.

  Using the stick to feel my way forward, I waded through the murky grey-brown water, which soon rose to my waist. Ugh. I was a competent enough swimmer, but I wasn’t the biggest fan of the water, especially muddy ponds where merrows and grindylows hunted for flesh-and-blood prey.

  The ogre steam
rollered into the swamp with a sound like a plunger being yanked from a sink. The bloody thing had a one-track mind. I quickened my pace, but without warning, the sturdy ground beneath my feet came to an end, and the stick plunged through emptiness.

  The ogre growled, wading through the currents. The water barely reached its ankles. Lucky bastard.

  “Hold your breath,” I told the human.

  I kicked off and swam into the deeper water, barely able to keep my own head above the surface with the added weight of the human on my back. The ogre plunged after me, and then recoiled, its arms flailing for the surface. Now you remember you can’t swim, huh?

  My gaze fixed on the solid mass of trees and earth on the other side of the swamp. Almost there.

  Then the human’s legs locked around my throat, driving me headfirst into the depths.

  Filthy water filled my eyes and mouth, and I choked, writhing and kicking. I broke the surface, gasping for breath, cursing myself for not seeing such an obvious trap. Of course Darrow wouldn’t give me a meek and obedient human to rescue.

  I won’t fail this. I won’t.

  Green light surged to my palms, and I blasted the water with all the power I had. A wave of filthy mud swept forward, propelling the flailing human to the surface and pushing both of us towards the bank at the far end.

  Crashing onto my knees, I skidded to a halt in the mud. Pushing a handful of filthy hair from my eyes, I looked for the human, who’d curled up in a ball. He also didn’t look much like a human any longer. His skin was scaly, his ears pointed, and his eyes were small and beady. A goblin. Thanks for that one, Darrow.

  Grabbing the scruff of his neck, I marched away from the swamp and found myself surrounded by gawking faeries, each of them covered in muddy water. Even Darrow. I wasn’t the slightest bit sorry.

  I threw the goblin at him. “You can fetch the ogre yourself, assuming it’s real.”

  “It isn’t.”

  Aila broke into gales of laughter. Had she had a say in this task? I had an inkling she might have. Worse, I was supposed to be meeting with Lord Kerien to examine the scene of the Erlking’s death, and for all I knew, I was already running late.