Silence came from the staff. If all else failed, I could always employ my best weapon against it—annoying chatter.
“Come on,” I told the path. “Take me there. I know you know where my family is.”
You are wasting your time, Hazel. Your family would be better off here than in the Courts. The Sidhe will kill them along with you.
“You can’t know that,” I said. “I won’t abandon them. They deserve to be allowed to live their own lives.”
And you don’t? I know your heart, Hazel Lynn. I know you think of yourself as the one who must make the sacrifice. You could be more than this. This realm could be your kingdom. You could rule.
The shadows formed a cloak around my shoulders, and I shivered. “I don’t want to rule.”
How do you know? You’ve never allowed yourself to imagine. Your entire family have been slaves to this curse of yours for generations.
“I told you, I don’t want a crown.” I’d never dreamt of sitting on a throne, and not just because that would never be an option for my family. As I’d since seen in Faerie, a crown was just another kind of cage. “I want freedom. That’s all.”
Freedom is an illusion. You’re mine, Hazel Lynn. I know your heart.
“You’re not the only one, considering I wear it on my sleeve.” My steps halted when the path abruptly cut out. A pit lay below, a yawning chasm of darkness, and above it, a cage hung suspended in the air.
Ilsa, Morgan and Mum sat inside the cage, surrounded by darkness that mingled with the shadows of my own talisman’s magic.
The shadows’ voice whispered in my ear, I am death and life all in one. I destroy, in order to be. I am the Devourer.
22
I halted on the edge of the cliff, staring into the abyss. “What the hell?”
The shadowy cage hung suspended from nothingness, and a void of darkness filled the space around it. Within, shapes stirred, their shadowy forms flickering with remnants of their magic. Wraiths. The gleam of Ilsa’s talisman shone from inside the cage, and while it would have been enough to get rid of the wraiths under normal circumstances, it was all but impossible here in the Vale where there was nowhere to banish the dead.
“Hazel!” Ilsa yelled at me from the cage. “It’d be nice if you gave us a hand.”
“I’m working on it.” Dammit, how was I supposed to get them out of there? Shadows swirled around my hands, further darkening my vision and smothering the ground beneath my feet. The staff wasn’t any use in this situation, not when it prevented me from seeing how to get through the shadows to my family. The wraiths didn’t help either, all but invisible in the darkness.
But the talisman fed on magic, and the wraiths were nothing but magic.
“Hang tight,” I gritted out.
I gave a wild swing with the talisman, directing a volley of shadows at the nearest wraith. The shadowy creature recoiled away from the darkness, and its brethren backed off, fearing the talisman’s bite.
A blaze of blue light appeared as Ilsa held up her own talisman, sending a wave of magic at the wraith I’d pushed back. The beast flew sideways into the shadowy assault of my talisman, evaporating into nothingness.
“Nice job,” she breathed out. “They’re scared of both of us. We can take them.”
“You bet.” Shadows spread from my hands, extending like tentacles over the abyss to chase the dead away from my family. A wild laugh brewed in my throat. Even death fears the talisman.
“I banish you, dickhead,” Morgan yelled from inside the cage. His hands glowed with blue light, pushing one of the wraiths back into the path of my talisman. He must have really upped his necromancy game since joining the guild, and if he’d tried it on Earth, the banishment would have worked. But here, death did not exist. Only oblivion.
And my shadows were thirsty for magic to feed on.
Wraiths fled the shadows, but there was nowhere for them to run. I snagged them one at a time, the staff directing my hand. I hardly felt like myself, lost in the haze of shadows, caught between darkness and deeper dark. Shock jolted through me when I looked down to see oblivion beneath my feet. The darkness held me upright, sustained me.
“Hey!” Ilsa said. “Not to kill your game, Hazel, but I can’t see how to get out of this cage when you keep throwing shadows everywhere. Can you turn down the darkness, please?”
Reeling, I came to myself, backing away from the cage. My heart thundered like the hoofbeats of the Wild Hunt; sweat slicked my hands beneath the cover of darkness. I’d killed the wraiths, but the darkness remained absolute, and the talisman’s laughter echoed in the back of my mind. You’re human, Hazel. You cannot fight the dark. I will devour you, too.
“Hazel.” Mum’s voice came from the gloom. “You’re still Gatekeeper.”
“I know.” What did that matter? Even my circlet’s light didn’t penetrate the gloom.
Or did it?
With difficulty, I retracted the shadows and tapped into my Gatekeeper’s powers. The sudden shock of green light temporarily blinded me, before illuminating the thin bars of the cage hovering above utter darkness.
“I don’t think I can get you out without you falling into the abyss,” I admitted. “I can’t move the cage.”
Morgan groaned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Yeah, I’d rather that didn’t happen.” Ilsa tugged at the cage bars, and shadows began to creep up my hands as though trying to dispel the remnants of my Gatekeeper’s magic. I’d almost become the Devourer then, in the heat of battle, and the talisman had all but swamped the human in me.
But underneath, I was still the Gatekeeper. I was still a Lynn, and I would see to it that my family got out of this in one piece.
The image of the Lynn house appeared in my mind’s eye. “Guys, I think I know how to get you out, but it’s risky.”
“I’m all ears,” said Ilsa.
I drew in a breath. “I have no idea if I can open a doorway back home over the abyss, but I can try. I need to be on top of the cage, though.”
Please, please don’t let the shadows hurt my family.
Destruction wasn’t the only consequence of my talisman’s magic. The Devourer might claim otherwise, but the talisman came with another side effect… the ability to cross realms at will.
Ilsa leaned forward, her face glowing in the blue light of her talisman. “You can do that?”
I hope so. I leapt at the cage, gripping the bars with my free hand. The cage swung above nothingness, and for a terrifying instant, it wavered beneath my grip. An illusion. Glamour or not, if it vanished, my family would fall into an oblivion darker than the shadows in my hands.
Holding the shadows back, I willed a doorway into the Court to open below the cage. The shadows flickered, and then grey light filtered through, a window-sized doorway appearing behind the others.
“Oh, thank fuck.” Morgan peered through the doorway. “Is it safe over there?”
“The Lynn house is fine,” I told them. “It’s still standing. The Court might not be, but if you run for the Summer gate, you should be okay. Don’t let anything in Faerie distract you, that clear?”
Morgan grabbed Mum’s arm and helped her climb through the doorway, but Ilsa hesitated. “Aren’t you coming with us?”
I shook my head, hanging onto the cage and trying not to think of the nothingness beneath us. “Not yet. I can’t risk doing any more damage to the house’s magic or hurting any of you. I’m not in control.” To say the least. The talisman and I had a reckoning to face, one way or another.
Ilsa made an exasperated noise. “You know I’m not gonna leave you alone here, Hazel.”
What was with people risking their necks on my behalf? Maybe I should have done what Darrow did and intentionally alienated everyone I met so nobody would attempt any heroic sacrifices. “I’ll be okay, Ilsa. I have the talisman.”
“You—” Ilsa broke off, recoiling from the darkness behind the open doorway. “You missed one.”
&nbs
p; Shadowy magic coalesced into the form of another wraith, larger than the others, more present. Raw fear filled me like ice in my lungs at the sight of the transparent, skeletal shape before me.
You think I died? The talisman’s laugh vibrated in my bones. My body may have expired, but part of me lived, Hazel Lynn. I survive thanks to you. You woke me.
It wasn’t the ghost of a Sidhe, but something much, much worse. The ghostly form of whatever had once owned the magic that lived inside my talisman hovered in the air, eyes like dark pits, body cloaked with shadows.
An Ancient.
“That’s… not a regular wraith,” I said through numb lips. “It’s… the Devourer.”
Ilsa’s eyes widened. “That’s its name?”
“So it tells me.” The tilting cage reminded me of the insubstantial surface beneath my feet. “Ilsa, please go through the doorway. I won’t let it follow you.”
“Like hell am I leaving you alone.” Ilsa held up her own talisman, which gleamed blue around the edges as though sensing the presence of another god. On the cover, the image of the raven stirred, and the wraith moved closer, extending a skeletal hand.
The cage’s illusion broke, and Ilsa and I fell into the abyss. Biting back a scream, I waved the talisman, demanding the shadows break our fall.
Ilsa yelled in alarm, clutching at me. Then my feet touched solid ground, and the shadows cleared to reveal the winding path of the Vale. I reeled, holding onto the staff with everything I had.
“It was an illusion.” Ilsa stood at my side, her face chalk-white. “Even the creature which brought us here.”
“You did this,” I told the wraith. “You put my family in danger to force me to claim you back. Don’t deny it.”
Even the initial rejection was a ruse, a ploy to make me desperate enough to promise to never give up the talisman’s magic this time around.
“Why did you ever think a mere human like yourself could control me?” whispered the shadows.
“Because we Lynns aren’t normal humans.” Ilsa held up her own talisman, and the image of the raven on the cover bared its claws at the wraith. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you aren’t the first Ancient to choose to serve a Lynn. We understand how you operate.”
“That one is nothing to me,” whispered the wraith. “I have sensed your power, Gatekeeper of Death, and I find it lacking.”
“Then you just weren’t looking hard enough.” Ilsa didn’t flinch when the wraith’s shadows folded back like a cloak and its skeletal hand reached for her. Bile burned the back of my throat at the sight of its foul, rotting form. Was this what Ilsa saw with her spirit sight whenever she set eyes on a wraith?
“Don’t you dare touch my sister,” I told the shadows.
“It’s not alive.” Ilsa gave the wraith a calm look. “I know it seems like it is, but the gods died out. What’s left in there is barely a fragment of its power. I will stay here and help you master the talisman, Hazel. I won’t leave you alone in the Vale. You own the staff. You can control it.”
Oh, god, Ilsa. I’d have done the same if our positions had been reversed and would never have condemned her to die alone in the Vale even with a life-destroying talisman in her hands, but that same blasted Lynn stubbornness might be the death of us all.
“Fragment, am I?” whispered the shadows. “I think not.”
As the wraith moved in, I threw myself over Ilsa’s body, shielding her from its touch. The wraith’s magic engulfed me, and waves of coldness drove prickling needles under my skin, seeking the warmth beneath. Striving to rip the talisman’s power out of me and take it back to feed its rotting soul.
“You can’t destroy me,” I told the wraith. “I’m Gatekeeper. I belong to the Court of Summer.”
“You belong to me, human,” whispered the wraith. “You will yield your freedom or surrender your power and let me devour your soul.”
“Like hell.” I tightened my grip on the talisman, but the shadows smothering me were no more under my control than Faerie itself. The wraith might be a mere fragment, but its magic came from a vast abyss even the Sidhe had feared.
Ilsa stirred, pinned somewhere beneath me. The sharp blue glow of her own talisman mingled with a faint green light somewhere in the gloom. Not grey, but Summer green. My circlet. Somehow, it was still glowing, even though the wraith’s magic should have devoured it. There was no power to draw on in this realm, nothing but the circlet itself, and yet it endured.
Lord Daival might have dismissed my Gatekeeper’s powers, but they’d remained intact even when Ilsa had stripped the talisman’s magic from me. I hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but the power that ran through my family’s bloodline along with the curse our name carried went deeper than the staff’s power. It must be older than—or at least as potent as—the talisman itself.
I tapped into my circlet’s magic, and the light grew brighter, pushing the shadows back. The circlet’s magic was like the pool in the Inner Garden—it fuelled itself, restoring its magic as quickly as it disappeared. The shadows folded back, freeing Ilsa and me, until nothing remained but the staff in my hand and the wraith hovering on the path.
“You will not defy me, Gatekeeper,” whispered the shadows. “You are mine.”
“No, I’m not.” I lifted my head, directing the bright green glow at the wraith. It recoiled, hissing, but there was nowhere to go. I’d banished the darkness from the path, revealing its pitiful, vulnerable form.
And the staff is still mine.
“Hazel.” Ilsa nudged me. “I can banish it, but I need the name.”
“The…?” Shit. Of course. If you spoke an Ancient’s name, it could be summoned or banished in a manner similar to blood magic or necromancy. Names were power, and the Ancients’ language carried such potency that no human could speak the words aloud… except one who had the protection of an Ancient’s magic.
In other words, like Ilsa or me.
I flipped the staff over. Runes covered its length, but the dark coating was too dark to see through. I willed the remaining shadows to retreat into the staff until the merest flicker remained on the surface. The symbols grew clearer, readable. Their meanings slipped through my mind, but I understood every symbol, every word. The magic gave me the knowledge, and I whispered the word, the name.
“Stop,” hissed the wraith. “Stop it.”
I said the name again, louder, and the wraith recoiled, hissing. Power welled beneath my skin, and a grin curled my lip. “I know your name, which gives me mastery over you. You should have thought twice before yielding one fragment of your power to a human, because right now? I have more power than you do. You’re nothing.”
Ilsa raised her voice. “On three, Hazel. I banish you—”
We both raised our talismans and spoke the name, and the piece of the Devourer’s consciousness shattered.
All that remained was the staff in my hand, the winding path of the Vale—and a tall figure approaching Ilsa and me.
The Seelie Queen.
23
“You.” I gripped the staff with both hands. “Those wraiths were yours, weren’t they? What other monsters have you enslaved?”
“I didn’t need to enslave them,” she said. “They flocked to me. Yes, even the Devourer.”
She was one of the Sidhe who banished the gods and stole their magic. She’d even known the god whose power was in the staff. Which meant the Erlking had, too.
Ilsa stepped to my side, holding her own talisman tight to her chest. “We killed him. He was already dead, thanks to you. You’re one of the Sidhe who killed the gods or kicked them out of Faerie, aren’t you?”
The Seelie Queen’s gaze flicked to the Gatekeeper’s book. “They would not bend to our will, so we forced them to. A fair exchange, one you mortals wouldn’t understand.”
“My Queen!” Lord Daival walked to her side, his silvery hair gleaming in the Vale’s eerie light. “I will not allow you to harm her again, mortals.”
“Oh, y
ou’re still top of my hit list, don’t worry.” I sent a wave of shadows at him, but the Seelie Queen stepped in the way, the talisman’s magic dissipating the instant it touched her.
“See, mortal?” Lord Daival’s voice brimmed with triumph. “My Queen wants nothing more than for me to rule at her side.”
I snorted. “She’s not defending you out of the goodness of her heart. Look what she did to the Erlking.”
“She never loved him,” spat Lord Daival. “She cares for me above everyone else.”
The expression on the Seelie Queen’s face could hardly be called loving. More like the look of an indifferent monarch regarding an expendable subject.
“You know, I kind of feel sorry for you,” said Ilsa.
Lord Daival advanced on her, and I barred his path, my staff outstretched. “If you set one foot near my family, I will flay your queen before your eyes while you watch.”
“You cannot destroy me, Hazel,” said the Seelie Queen. “No matter what you do, I will endure. I was there at the creation of the Courts themselves, and you will beg for death at my hands when that talisman takes your soul.”
“As a matter of fact—” I raised the talisman—“The Devourer and I have come to an understanding.”
The Seelie Queen’s brows arched. “Is that so?”
“You lie.” Lord Daival’s face pinched with rage, and he hurled a handful of thorns at me.
With the talisman in my hand, it was easy to block his attacks and send handfuls of shadow to feast on the magic coursing through his blades. Yet I was tired, and while he wasn’t the most skilled fighter I’d faced, his Sidhe speed coupled with the thorns made it hard to gain ground.
Time to fight dirty.
I spun behind the Seelie Queen to avoid his attack. The thorns dropped harmlessly to the floor, but he exclaimed in rage. “How dare you use my lady as a shield?”
Thorns rose into the air, aimed at me. Ilsa blasted him with her own talisman, sending the thorns scattering into the shadows. My sister and I stood back to back, fighting the wave of thorns. Her talisman hummed, its magic resonating with mine. A smile formed on my mouth. We both fight with the power of the gods. Not as its pawns, but as its masters.
The Gatekeeper's Trials: The Complete Trilogy Page 42
