The Gatekeeper's Trials: The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “Darrow, I’m over here!” I yelled. “Help me get this mist off me, won’t you?”

  Footsteps sounded, and Darrow pushed through the mist, his eyes fixed on the blade in my hands. “Hazel, what are you doing?”

  “Cutting off the…” I glanced down, only to find the mist had vanished from sight. “It’s all a glamour. All of it. What did you see? I saw—”

  “Your memories,” we both said at the same time.

  “Nothing incriminating,” I added. “You?”

  “No. Your childhood, mostly.”

  From his expression and tone, he showed no indication that he'd seen me claim or hide the talisman. “You didn’t see the strip poker incident, did you?”

  “Do I really want to know?” he said.

  “No.” A grin tugged at my mouth, mostly relief. She didn’t beat us.

  The memory-eater loomed before us, her rainbow-striped wings beating. Her craggy face was lined with unrestrained rage, and magic spun from her fingertips in the form of misty vines.

  I raised my blade, but Darrow got there first. His sword pierced the faerie’s heart, and her shrieking died along with the remains of the mist.

  “Damn.” I took in a breath. “I didn’t know she could be killed.”

  “Everyone can,” he said. “Even immortals.”

  The hard rasp within his voice surprised me. He’s pissed at her. Or me. It was no more my fault than his, but he knew I’d pried into memories I didn’t have the right to see.

  Questions buzzed in my mind like a swarm of persistent wasps, and my jaw ached with the effort of not blurting them out. Relief that my history hadn’t been exposed mingled with guilt over what I’d seen of Darrow’s past. In particular, the girl. It was a wild leap to assume she was the person the memory-eater had referenced, but the two had seemed very close in their memories, yet I hadn’t seen her in the time I’d spent in the Aes Sidhe’s realm. Hadn’t him exchange a friendly word with anyone at all, in fact.

  When we left the forest behind and reached the ambassador’s palace, Darrow departed with obvious relief at no longer having to prolong the awkward silence. I, meanwhile, headed into the main hall.

  “There you are, Hazel.” Coral’s expression brightened at the sight of me, at least until she saw my bloody clothes. I’d forgotten the memory-eater had knocked off my glamour. “What have you been doing, wrestling a troll?”

  “Among other things,” I said. “We went to Half-Blood Territory and had a run-in with some Vale beasts.”

  “Half-Blood Territory?” she echoed. “I thought you were going to the borderlands.”

  “The half-faeries rule the borderlands now,” I explained. “They’re also open to accepting anyone from any Court, so you and the others have somewhere to stay if shit hits the fan. Or if anyone here doesn’t want to answer to the Gatekeeper.”

  “I’ll let them know,” she said. “They’ll appreciate it. Did you think the half-bloods might have seen Lord Daival in the borderlands?”

  “It was worth looking around,” I said. “They hadn’t, though. Any leads?”

  “Nope,” she said. “We even tried the mortal realm. I wondered if you’d run into him, considering how long you were gone.”

  “Nah, we didn’t leave Faerie.” Perhaps the memory-eater’s realm had caused us to miss a few hours. If more time had passed than I’d thought, I needed to get ready for the evening’s event with the Lord of Thorns. After all the trouble I’d been through to gather information, it’d be a fine thing to lose the one solid lead I’d had. “Can you tell Lady Aiten I went home? I need to talk to my family.”

  “Oh, sure,” said Coral. “I didn’t see anyone near your gate, don’t worry. Are you okay, Hazel? You look kinda… frazzled.”

  “Yeah. Lucky escape, that’s all. I should go home and clean up.”

  And ready for a night of music and revelry. Or creepy chanting and human sacrifice. With the Erlking’s deluded followers, one never knew what to expect.

  Seeing the Lynn house again brought a rush of unexpected emotion. While I’d seen one lone memory from my own history, my visit to Half-Blood Territory reminded me I'd been lucky in so many ways. I'd had an unconventional childhood, but the Gatekeeper’s mark scared off most mundane threats, while I also had a guaranteed home and a job for life, which was more than many humans could say. If those half-faeries could beat the odds and establish a Court in the heart of Faerie, I could find a way to thwart the Erlking’s talisman and rescue his captured sprite.

  I allowed myself one glance to confirm the talisman was still in the Inner Garden, then I headed for the house.

  I found Mum sitting in the living room with a mug of cocoa and the Erlking’s family tree laid out on the floor in front of her.

  “Hey, Mum,” I said.

  She eyed my bloody clothes. “What did you get up to, Hazel?”

  “Well.” I put on a cheery smile. “I met the new leaders of the half-faeries, made a bargain with the memory-eater in exchange for a useless memory, and otherwise wasted my time wandering around the forests of the borderlands.”

  “The memory-eater?” she said. “You didn’t see her alone, did you?”

  I wish I had. “No. Darrow went with me, and then he decided to stab her to death for tricking us.”

  Mum shook her head. “Better hope she is dead if you struck a bargain with her. What memory from your own history did she show you?”

  My hands knotted in my lap. “The night I was chosen as Gatekeeper.”

  I described the memory, recalling the soft voices and the sound of footsteps. Had the Sidhe truly visited me in my sleep and picked me out as Gatekeeper, and if they had, why hadn’t the people from the vision ever spoken to me face to face? I wasn’t sorry Darrow had skewered her, but I couldn’t help wishing I’d dragged more information from the memory-eater. If I hadn’t let her distract me with her cryptic hints, she might have shown me the Seelie Queen’s own history. Or the Erlking’s. I’d bet few other faeries with her particular skill set existed, too.

  Mum’s expression clouded. “I don’t remember any visitors the night you were chosen, but the Sidhe do as they wish.”

  “No shit.” I leaned back against the cushions. “I’m staying here tonight, but I might be back late. There’s a faerie party happening in the hills near the Ley Line.”

  Mum lifted her head. “Is it linked to your mission for the Court?”

  “Actually, it is, for a wonder,” I said. “If Lord Daival shows his face, anyway. Even if not, it’ll be my pleasure to deal with a group of annoying cultists who think the Erlking is their undead messiah.”

  I was hardly in the mood for a party, but with any luck, Lord Daival would be waiting for me. Then Lady Aiten’s ridiculous demand would be done and dusted, and I’d ensure neither he nor his queen would ever see the light of day again.

  11

  I surveyed my reflection, a scowl on my face. The rogues hadn’t given me a dress code, and my usual attire of gold and green seemed too bright for a gathering of people who worshipped a dead man. When I tried glamouring one of my dresses from green to black, though, I looked like I was on my way to a Goth rave.

  One way or another, nobody would ever mistake me for a Sidhe cultist. I wasn’t tall and lithe like the Sidhe, but strong and curvy and muscled. Add in the circlet on my head and hiding in Faerie was pretty much a no-go. I'd have to dress up as the Gatekeeper no matter what, and hope that the rogues’ inexplicable desire to have me on their team outweighed the convenience of bumping me off.

  In the end, I went with a plain green dress and left my hair in loose curls. Ten minutes before the event kicked off, I walked out of the Ley Line into the mortal realm. I’d get some odd stares if any humans saw me wandering around the hills in fancy Sidhe clothing, but the muddy country lane was a safe enough distance from the village. I bloody well hoped Lord Daival would show his face after all the time I’d wasted getting ready.

  As I walked, I scanned the hil
ls for any signs of the so-called Lord of Thorns. Despite the silence, a prickling wariness rested between my shoulder blades. I’d felt secure in my decision to go in alone, but I’d been accustomed to having Darrow with me at these events, and his absence disconcerted me. Honestly, Hazel. Did I really miss having a stoic companion who sulked in the corner during parties?

  “Hazel!” Coral called after me. “What do you mean by going to a gathering of rogues and not inviting me?”

  I rotated on the spot. To my astonishment, Coral wore a modest dark dress beneath her cloak, like she was on her way to a funeral. “How’d you even hear about it?”

  “From the other half-faeries, of course,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if you’d been invited, but now I can go in as your bodyguard.”

  “You'll have to pretend to be a fanatic,” I reminded her. “Or tell them you want the Sea Kingdom to be annexed by Summer again. Either way, just talk about how the Erlking is the next messiah and you'll be fine.”

  I was the one who might have trouble holding my tongue, especially after a glass of elf wine. I needed a stiff drink, considering the day I’d had, but I might have to refrain if I didn’t want to end up fighting an entire cult single-handedly.

  “No problem,” she said. “We’re almost there.”

  Reaching a dip in the hills, I spotted two cloaked Sidhe standing on either side of an opening in the hillside.

  “Hey, there,” I said, when they looked up and saw us. “I’m Hazel Lynn, and this is Coral. We’re here to meet the Lord of Thorns.”

  “His Lordship may not grace us with his presence tonight, but we are honoured to have you join our cause, Gatekeeper,” said the cloaked guy on the right.

  Sure you are.

  Coral and I descended into an open space beneath the hill, lit by a thousand fireflies glittering under the curving earthen ceiling. Banquet tables and barrels of wine covered the back wall of the cave, while fae music filled the air, eerie and mesmerising. Oh good. It’s a real party, without evil chanting and human sacrifice. Some of them even looked like they were having a good time.

  Not all of them, of course. As I’d expected, the cultists wore long cloaks and drifted around like necromancers with pointed ears, but other guests were dressed in Summer finery. Others wore human clothes together with dazed expressions as though they’d been whisked here from the mortal realm and weren’t entirely sure how they’d ended up at a faerie revel beneath the earth. Clusters of half-faeries conversed in groups, some of whom I recognised as Coral’s fellow spies. Despite the crowdedness, a jolt of recognition hit me as I looked around.

  “This is where I saw Lord Daival,” I whispered to Coral.

  “Saw him? When?”

  “In a vision a faerie showed me when I asked to see his most recent memory,” I murmured. “I’ll explain later. People are staring.”

  My circlet had begun to draw attention, and many of the cloaked figures grouped closer together. I held my head high, resigned to playing the part of the Summer Gatekeeper for the night. While Lord Daival had been in the cave recently, he wasn’t here now. Maybe he’d gone to put on his best glamour for the party.

  Coral leaned in and whispered, “I'll go and check the food for any poison, and make sure nobody's prepared to ambush you.”

  “To be honest, I'd rather they get it over with.” I waved her off, scanning the room for any signs of Lord Daival. Personally, I’d prefer to get into a brawl with some rogues than flirt with them in the hopes of finding out where their Lord was hiding, but it seemed he planned to make an entrance or not show his face at all.

  My gaze panned across two half-satyrs dancing in clip-clopping circles and tripping on one another’s hooves; an antlered female Sidhe with cerulean hair grinding against a dazed-looking human male; and a winged half-faerie grabbing handfuls of buzzing fireflies and swallowing them whole, her entire body glowing like the lights on a Christmas tree.

  And then I saw the one person who I’d never expected to see at a gathering of fanatics from Summer: Holly Lynn, my cousin, and Gatekeeper of the Winter Court.

  Holly had dyed her hair black and cut it to shoulder length and she wore dark clothing which blended into her surroundings, but her blue eyes shone as bright as any Winter Sidhe’s, and on her head lay a circlet near-identical to mine. Studded with white gems, it gleamed with icy magic. Like the humans, the Winter Gatekeeper looked as though she wasn't quite sure how she'd ended up here.

  Nor was I, for that matter. How had the Winter Gatekeeper come to be invited to a Summer gathering intended to celebrate the Erlking’s return? It didn’t seem as though she’d brought any companions, either, though surely even the cultists would draw the line at inviting Unseelie Sidhe to witness the Erlking’s revival.

  Holly caught my gaze, her shoulders tensing at the sight of me. “Hazel.”

  “Hey,” I said to her. “You got an invite, too, huh?”

  Her gaze flicked to my circlet. “I didn't know you'd be here.”

  “Likewise.” I hadn’t seen Holly in weeks, but she’d had an even tougher start to her tenure as Gatekeeper than I had, including the death of her mother—twice, after she’d tried to use necromancy to cheat death. “What on earth did the Sidhe say when they invited you? Because they made me some absurd promises about getting to be the Gatekeeper who stood beside the rightful leader of Summer. Somehow I doubt they’d say that to a Winter Gatekeeper.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Holly said. “They told me it was an exclusive event for anyone who supports the Erlking’s return to power.”

  “Why would the Winter Gatekeeper support the Erlking?” I frowned.

  “Stability,” she said. “The Unseelie Queen doesn’t want a war with the Seelie Court. We don’t know who might end up taking his place and claiming his crown, so the Erlking’s return works in Winter’s favour.”

  Oh. I’d forgotten Holly had seen the Erlking’s talisman in action and witnessed its destructive power. Considering the Unseelie Queen had ruled for at least as long as the Erlking had, she might well have seen it for herself at one point or other. If she thought the Erlking’s replacement might claim his staff, it was no wonder she’d support his return, even if it was impossible.

  Bloody hell. How did I end up stuck between every powerhouse in Faerie while in possession of the only weapon that might start and end a war all at once?

  “Believe me,” I said, “I wish he hadn’t died. I really do. But death is final. He’s not coming back.”

  “How do you know?” Holly said. “We don’t understand how immortality works, but the Sidhe do.”

  I opened and closed my mouth, knowing her mother wasn’t far from her thoughts. The former Winter Gatekeeper’s final act had been to attempt to turn herself into an immortal, and in the process, we’d learned that the Sidhe’s original source of immortality had been the blood of the gods whose magic they’d stolen. When the last storage of the Ancients’ blood had broken, the Sidhe’s immortality had come to an end. That didn’t mean the Sidhe had accepted that eventuality, but the cultists’ denial was on a whole other level.

  “There’s a reason there’s no such thing as necromancy in Faerie,” I whispered. “These fanatics are deluded, nothing more. If they die, there’s no do-overs. Same with the Erlking.”

  “Your point?” Holly’s mouth set in a stubborn line. “Better to keep an eye on them than be taken unawares.”

  “I’m not disagreeing.” I turned outward to scan the cave in case Lord Daival had entered while we’d been talking. “But these guys are a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket, and they’ll skewer us all if we wreck their fantasies.”

  “I was raised by a woman who wanted to become immortal,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ve known manipulation since I could walk, and even more since I gained the Gatekeeper’s magic. Trust me, I know every trick they might use to brainwash me, and I won’t yield.”

  Her words conjured the memory of voices in a night-time room bathed in
summer air. I turned to face her. “When you gained the Gatekeeper’s magic, do you remember that night at all?”

  She blinked at me. “Why on earth do you want to know that?”

  “Because the Sidhe paid a visit to my family that night and picked me as the Summer heir in person.”

  Holly sniffed. “Am I supposed to be impressed? There’s only one of me.”

  Oh, crap. I’d hoped to find out who the mysterious Sidhe in the vision was, but it’d slipped my mind that Holly had been forced into her position because she had no siblings and no other potential Winter Gatekeepers waiting in line. Because of that, part of me had once hoped that I might be able to get her to help me with my plan to undo the vow binding our family to the Courts. I hadn’t reckoned on us winding up in this mess, though.

  “I know,” I said. “I meant the Sidhe visited me as a child and chose me. They spied on my siblings.”

  “Did you expect me to be jealous or something?” she said. “If you're telling me to watch my back, I don't need a bodyguard to do that for me.”

  “Ouch.” That was Holly for you—cold and sharp as a thorn bush encased in frost. Yet I'd seen her at her most vulnerable and I knew she must be worried about her own Court if she’d come here alone. “All right, I’m going to go and mingle.”

  Holly seemed content to hover in the shadows, but she was far from the only wallflower present. Groups of cloaked Sidhe gathered along the walls, conversing in whispers. Perhaps they were exchanging tips on how to run an evil cult.

  I made for the dance floor instead, and within two minutes, I found myself struggling to extricate myself from a Sidhe who seemed to think I was someone called Catriana and kept trying to pull the circlet out of my hair. He’d turned his cloak into a toga and was totally naked underneath, and when I shoved him away from me, he nearly pitched forward into the wine barrel.

  “Careful.” I grimaced at his clammy touch as he grabbed my arm for balance. “Let go of—”

  “Gatekeeper.” Another Sidhe stepped in front of me, one of the cloaked group who’d visited the Lynn house to invite me here. “You came.”