The Gatekeeper's Trials: The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “We want half-faeries from both Courts to feel welcome here,” explained Raine. “Like they do in the mortal realm.”

  I studied her, noting her accent was plainly English despite the lilting cadence common to half-bloods. “You grew up there.”

  “Right.” She nodded. “What did you call yourself, the Gatekeeper? I’ve heard about you, but Cedar didn’t mention you’d met.”

  “We didn’t exactly have time to stop and chat,” I said. “Also, I wasn’t Gatekeeper at the time. I was the heir.”

  Cedar’s eyes raked me up and down. “You’re human, right? The Sidhe didn’t mention that part. I was told you were peacekeepers.”

  “We are.” If Raine was new to Faerie, most half-bloods in the mortal realm knew little of the Gatekeepers, but it seemed Lady Hornbeam had neglected to share information on the Courts with her soldiers, too. It surprised me the Sidhe had told them anything at all, actually, but perhaps they’d struck some kind of bargain when the half-bloods had taken over this territory. “That is, we’re peacekeepers between humans and faeries.”

  Cedar’s gaze went to Darrow. I tensed, expecting him to blast the two of them with glamour, but half his attention was on the tapestried walls. “I am Darrow, an ambassador assigned to help the Gatekeeper with her mission. Did the Courts give you permission to rule over the borderlands?”

  “Of course,” said Raine. “We take care of the borderlands, and they leave us alone, for the most part. Nobody else wants to live here, so it worked out pretty well.”

  The half-faeries living in the ambassadors’ palace might be interested to know this place existed. Those who were lucky enough to be invited to live in Faerie were forced to depend on the generosity of their Sidhe families, which was often lacking. On the other hand, there must be another reason Raine and Cedar had convinced the Sidhe to hand over the borderlands to them. What powers did they possess? Cedar carried no weapons save for the crossbow strapped to his back, but the bright glow in Raine’s eyes signalled strong magic, while a similar glow came from a long sceptre strapped to her side. Threads of power brushed against me, cold and sharp and disconcertingly intelligent. “You have a talisman.”

  “I do.” She lifted the talisman—a sceptre the colour of ice, with the blue glow of its magic shimmering around the tip—and its chilling touch slid beneath my skin as though probing the depths of my soul. I forgot to breathe for an instant. While not a single drop of the Erlking’s magic ran in my veins any longer, some deep intelligence in the talisman recognised me as a kindred spirit. “That circlet on your head…”

  “Oh, it’s not a talisman.” I buried my cold hands in my pockets, trying to quell the lingering sense of disquiet. “It’s a ceremonial circlet, that’s all.”

  “You didn't come here to discuss talismans,” said Cedar. “Why did you come?”

  “There is a criminal loose in Faerie,” said Darrow. “Lord Daival. We wondered if you’d seen any signs of him in the borderlands.”

  “Lord Daival?” Cedar frowned. “I know of him, but no, we haven’t seen any Sidhe here for a long while. Is that all?”

  Darrow gave me an expectant look, and for once, my mind went blank. “Uh, not all. I also heard you once tried to steal from the Erlking, and frankly I’m intrigued enough to want to hear the story for myself.”

  Amusement flickered in Cedar’s eyes. “That’s still going around?”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s true,” he said. “There’s little to tell. I stole a security talisman, slipped through the gates and was caught in the act by the Erlking himself. He knew me for Lady Hornbeam’s child thief, so he sent me on my way without punishing me.”

  “While you were there, did you see anything odd?” Really specific, Hazel. “I mean, which part of his territory did you see?” Like his talisman?

  “Not much.” He gave a smile that softened his features considerably. “I found my way into the forest, and as luck would have it, I ran into the Erlking himself coming the other way. I never found his quarters.”

  Hmm. The Erlking presumably hadn’t been carrying the talisman on him at the time, but perhaps he left it behind whenever he wanted to walk in the woods without turning everything he touched into dust. It must be tiresome having to keep an eye on it for every waking moment.

  From Darrow’s expression, he knew I was probing for information, but not my reasons. I hastened to say, “That’s all we wanted to know. I should mention we were attacked by sluagh on the way here. Is that common in the borderlands?”

  “Very common,” said Raine. “Vale beasts often trespass here. That’s why we have fences around the palace, to keep them out.”

  “What about the Sidhe?” I asked. “Do they often come this way? Would an outcast be able to hide in the forest?”

  “Not as well as they would in the Vale,” said Cedar. “We send frequent patrols around our territory. Nobody would be able to evade our attention for long.”

  I guess not. With Darrow hovering over my shoulder, I didn’t dare ask any questions that alluded to the heir or the sprite, but hours remained until tonight’s special event, and the question of the heir’s identity loomed larger than ever. It was unlikely a group of half-Sidhe in the borderlands knew who the Erlking had nominated to be his successor, but if Lord Daival was a no-show tonight, I’d regret not trying harder to find him.

  “Is there anyone else who might help?” I asked. “The Sidhe don’t want word to spread of Lord Daival’s escape, but given his closeness to the Seelie Queen, we’re concerned he might come back to break her out of jail.”

  “You could always try the memory-eater,” said Raine. “She can extract information from the memories of those around her. If Lord Daival passed her way, she’ll know where he was heading.”

  “Extract memories?” I raised an eyebrow. “That sounds unpleasant.”

  “It is,” said Raine. “She also tends to require a price for her services. Fair warning.”

  That figured. On the other hand, if this memory-eater could extract anyone’s memories, might she know the identity of the heir? The Seelie Queen had been adamant only the sprite knew, but she’d told the truth according to what she believed. If this memory-eater had ever met the Erlking and read his thoughts… damn. That’s one hell of a power.

  “Whereabouts does she live?” I asked.

  “On the east side of the borderlands,” said Raine. “Follow the path into the forest and head for the clouds. I’ll just go and fetch something you’ll need to take with you.”

  She slipped through a wooden door at the back of the hall which I was positive hadn’t been there beforehand. Cedar, meanwhile, paced away from the throne to speak to the dark-haired female soldier from earlier. I watched him for an instant, wondering how he’d talked the Sidhe into letting him become the new king. While he carried no talisman like Raine’s, being trusted to steal from the Erlking required uncommon skill, and it was no mean feat to go from Lady Hornbeam’s lackey to a leader in his own right, either. If I didn’t know Darrow would pass on every word we spoke to Etaina, I’d have asked him more questions.

  Darrow, however, seemed more interested in the bright tapestries clothing the walls. In the picture to our right, frost-crowned trees overlooked a meadow of autumn-yellow flowers, like an amalgamation of Summer and Winter. The one closest to us depicted a flock of horses galloping across a plain. Not just horses—the one in the lead boasted an impressive horn. I reached out to the painting and stroked the unicorn’s forehead.

  “What are you doing?” Darrow wanted to know.

  I lowered my hand. “What? I like unicorns. Always wanted to see one.”

  He eyed the beast’s magnificent form. “Why?”

  “No idea. Probably because one hasn’t tried to kill me yet.” My impression of horses had somewhat soured after a rogue kelpie had nearly drowned me in a loch when I was six years old, while I’d found imps adorable until a group of them had tried to set me on
fire in junior school.

  “Hmm.” Darrow’s expression was unreadable when he studied the tapestries, though when he saw me looking, he averted his gaze. Did he feel guilty for admiring another Court? A Court that wasn't buried underground, and which didn't involve swearing any vows of service or facing brainwashing glamour—and was ruled by two half-bloods at that. In Faerie, stumbling across a unicorn was far more likely than any of those things.

  I turned to Cedar. “Do you require your citizens to swear a vow, like the Courts do?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Certainly not.”

  I blinked at the vehemence in his tone. “Just wondered. It seems…”

  Too good to be true. I wouldn’t have minded living in a place like this, even as a human. I'd never be completely at home living among the half-faeries, but my position set me too far apart from other humans aside from my family, and the Sidhe didn't do friendship, only alliances.

  “We allow people to opt in, rather than forcing them.” Raine slipped through the door back into the hall, the tapestries fluttering in the breeze stirred up by her arrival. In her hand dangled a small bag, which she handed to me. “The Sidhe don’t like it, but they gave up the borderlands and now they have to live with whatever we decide to do with them. I think Lord Kerien hopes the Vale’s monsters will drive us out.”

  “Lord Kerien?” I pocketed the bag. “You know he's dead, right?”

  Her eyes widened. “When?”

  “I thought everyone knew.” That explained why they weren’t up-to-date on recent events in the Courts. Lord Kerien had been the main ambassador between mortals and the Sidhe before his death. “He was killed while investigating the Erlking’s murder, murdered by one of the faeries who conspired against Summer on the Seelie Queen’s orders.”

  Raine turned to Cedar with a troubled expression. “I didn’t hear. Did you?”

  “Lady Whitefall!” One of the archers from earlier ran into the room, his clothes bloody and torn. “There’s been an attack.”

  Raine’s expression hardened, and she pulled out her sceptre. Cedar reached for his crossbow, moving fluidly to the door.

  Outside, the sound of screaming came from somewhere near the fence on our left. A roar followed, and we ran towards the fence to find two giant trolls bearing down on a group of half-faeries. Two arrows flew from Cedar’s bow, burying themselves in the troll’s shoulders, while Raine swung her sceptre, sending a jet of icy energy into the monster’s eyes.

  The second troll swung hands encased in iron chains which suggested it’d run away from the Vale. I jumped in with my blade, sinking it deep into the troll’s thigh, but the troll shook off the iron wound and swung its chains at me. I ducked under its arm, and Darrow stabbed it from the side, fighting with a sharp ferocity that surprised me. His usual cool manner had cracked, his blows swift and ruthless, his mouth set in a hard line.

  Darrow’s blade cleaved through the meat of the troll’s ankle. The troll bellowed in pain, its stump of a leg gushing blood. It stumbled into the path of my sword, which sank deep into its neck. More blood gushed, the troll’s death rattle ringing in my ears.

  Raine and Cedar moved toward the bodies of their fallen soldiers. Cedar’s hands glowed with the familiar glow of healing magic, but from his grim expression, it was too late for at least one of the victims.

  My throat closed up. “Is there nothing we can do?”

  “No,” said Cedar, his voice soft. “I'm afraid there isn't.”

  It hurt to leave them like this, but neither of us had healing magic. If Lord Daival was behind the attack, I had yet another incentive to skewer the bastard. “I’m sorry.”

  Silence lingered over Darrow and me as we left. His expression remained preoccupied, remote, but my mind kept spinning in circles. Had Lord Daival sent those trolls to attack Half-Blood Territory? If they’d come from the Vale, surely not, but I couldn't help wondering if our own presence here might have triggered their arrival.

  Even if not, the sluagh’s appearance earlier and Raine and Cedar’s comments reminded me of the borderlands’ proximity to the Vale. They must have known what they were getting into when they’d built their home here, and I could only hope they continued to thrive in defiance of anything the world threw at them. A land where anyone in Faerie might walk freely was a rare thing indeed.

  After this, the idea of making yet more bargains with a fae by the name of the ‘memory-eater’ was not an appealing one, but when I spotted another patch of dying trees on our right-hand side, it brought a reminder that the Vale wasn’t the only source of trouble in this part of Faerie. Something was wrong, and at this point, any answers would be more than welcome.

  I just hoped this memory-eater’s price didn’t turn out to be as impossible to pay as Etaina’s.

  9

  Darrow and I followed Raine’s directions to the east of the borderlands, where I pulled out the small bag she’d given me. Inside were a handful of small berries and a note that read, you’ll need to eat these to breathe in the memory-eater’s territory.

  “We have to eat these?” I sniffed at them, recalling Coral’s lessons on detecting poisons, but didn’t pick up on anything untoward. The berries smelled of wildflowers, and when I tossed one into my mouth, it tasted more like floral-scented soap. I pulled a face as I chewed. “To breathe… I guess the memory-eater must live somewhere the air isn’t breathable.”

  Darrow held out his palm. “I heard she lives high up in the clouds.”

  “You didn’t mention you’d heard of the memory-eater before.” I handed him the remaining berries and he popped one into his mouth.

  “I’ve heard of most of the fae who lives outside the boundaries of the Courts,” Darrow answered.

  “Not them.” I jerked my head over my shoulder in the general direction of the palace. “Half-Blood Territory is a new addition.”

  Not an unwelcome one, either. I debated asking if seeing the half-bloods’ palace had caused him to rethink his decision to stand by Etaina’s draconian orders, but he spoke first. “I believe we’re being watched.”

  I glanced up, following his line of sight. The clouds appeared to hang lower than they had before, brushing the tops of the trees and cloaking them in whiteness. Wood imps peered from holes in the tree trunks, but that wasn’t what made the back of my neck prickle as though unseen eyes stared down at us from the clouds.

  As we went deeper into the woods, the clouds lowered even further until they swirled around our ankles and obscured the ground, in a manner disconcertingly similar to the creepy clouded path in the Grey Vale. A sudden rush of vertigo hit me when I saw the tops of the borderland’s trees below us. The path had turned vertical, and we’d been walking upright without noticing.

  “I’m guessing this is the reason for the berries.” I turned to Darrow to find him staring white-faced at the clouded path. For someone who'd grown up underground, walking into the sky must be even more overwhelming than it was for me. “Want to turn back? I can go and see the memory-eater alone.”

  If anything, I’d prefer it that way. If she could read the minds of every single person who passed her way, did that mean she knew I’d claimed the talisman? Would she be able to show anyone else that memory if they asked?

  I think coming here might have been a mistake.

  Without warning, Darrow disappeared, sinking through a carpet of cloud into the treetops below.

  “Darrow!” Alarm lanced through me, and the ground dipped beneath my feet. I scanned for a way down, and a long-limbed faerie rose from the clouds and blocked my path. Her white hair was long and braided with thorny branches, while her wings had odd rainbow patterns which gave her an oddly child-like air in contrast to her wrinkled face. A pair of eyes brimming with intelligence and cunning looked me up and down.

  “Hazel Lynn,” said the faerie. “You have passed your Trials, but your tests as Gatekeeper have yet to truly begin. You have an interesting road ahead of you.”

  “Where is Darrow?”
I glanced below, but puffy clouds covered the view beneath my feet.

  The winged faerie studied me, a hint of wickedness in her wire-thin smile. “You wanted him gone, did you not?”

  “I didn’t want him to fall to his death.” If the trees had been as close as they looked, he would have had little trouble catching his balance and climbing to the ground, but that didn’t mean I appreciated her trickery. “Also, are you reading my thoughts right now?”

  “They call me the memory-eater for a reason,” she said. “Whenever a person passes within range of my domain, their memories flood into my mind, every last one of them. I know the truth of you, Hazel Lynn. I know what it is you crave.”

  “I didn’t come here to talk about me,” I told her. “Have you seen Lord Daival recently?”

  “I do not see with my eyes as you do,” said the memory-eater. “I cannot see his location, only his memories and others’ memories of him. The Lord of Thorns has lived a long life, mortal, and I will show you one memory, just one. Choose wisely.”

  Hmm. “Have you seen any recent memories of him kidnapping a sprite?”

  She leaned forward, excitement suffusing the craggy lines of her face. “He has committed a heinous crime, oh yes, in capturing an innocent creature to torture for information.”

  My remaining hopes that the sprite might have escaped elsewhere evaporated like mist. “Will you show me? What is your price?”

  “I will show you one memory in exchange for another, mortal.”

  “Exchange?” I looked into those ageless eyes. “You consume memories, don’t you?”

  “I do, mortal,” she said. “You're not the first to come here looking for answers, but I am no powerless being for the powerful to torture and lock in a cage. Are you sure you want the truth, Hazel Lynn?”

  Okay… “Can you just show me the memory?” My heartbeat kicked into gear, my body tensing in anticipation of an attack.