The Gatekeeper's Trials: The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  Like when Darrow used glamour to create copies of himself… but these guys were as solid as I was, and, it seemed, immune to the talisman’s power. Etaina used glamour to create living beings?

  “Etaina only sends her elite assassins when she wants to dispatch someone without leaving a trace behind.” His mouth tightened. “I trained with them myself. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be able to predict their movements.”

  “Holy shit,” I breathed. “Did Etaina create them herself?”

  “She did,” he said. “They might be creations of magic, however, but they are living beings capable of experiencing the same senses and emotions as we do. The one thing linking them is their undying loyalty to Etaina. They will do anything for her, so only she could have sent them here.”

  No wonder nobody had kicked up a fuss when Etaina had brainwashed her entire congregation, with an army of elite clones keeping everyone in line. I hadn’t known it was possible for illusion magic to create real living beings, but it explained a lot about how so many Sidhe had survived underground.

  “They couldn’t have meant to attack you, too,” I said. “She’s the one who sent you into the Summer Court, right? Why would she then order her assassins to eliminate us both?”

  “She wouldn’t,” he said. “I suspect they saw the two of us together and struck without thinking. They can be quite literal in how they interpret orders.”

  Despite the certainty in his tone, his brow pinched with worry. The bodies of the fallen Aes Sidhe creeped me the hell out, but I made myself examine each one, marvelling at their identical features. Then I peered through the bushes, spotting another body lying in a clearing.

  “I don’t think we need to worry about the Seelie Queen’s insider any longer,” I murmured.

  A Summer Sidhe lay dead in the undergrowth, his body split open from throat to chest to expose the organs glistening inside. Behind him lay the sprawling body of a dead ogre, almost concealing the slash in mid-air which marked a partly open doorway into the Vale.

  “Etaina’s assassins killed the Seelie Queen’s insider,” I remarked. “And then we killed them in return. Really, they did us a favour.”

  “The doorway is still open,” said Darrow.

  “Not for long.” I trod up to the gaping slash in the air, seeing nothing on the other side but empty space and the blankness of the Vale’s paths. One touch of my talisman and it folded shut. “That’s our saboteur dealt with.”

  But Etaina had sent her own form of sabotage, and her assassins hadn’t seemed to care about targeting their fellow soldier. Either they’d been told to kill everyone they came across and she hadn’t meant to include Darrow among them… or she knew, somehow, that we were working together.

  Darrow released a slow breath. “We can’t leave the bodies here. If they do, the Summer Court will realise there’s more than one enemy.”

  “But—there is.” I looked at the fallen Aes Sidhe. “If we don’t tell them, they won’t know there’s another threat to their Court.”

  Damn Etaina. What the hell was she doing?

  Darrow’s mouth pressed together. “It may not count as a threat to the Court. The assassins targeted the Seelie Queen’s insiders and the two of us, not the other Sidhe. If it turns out they did attack the other Sidhe, then by all means, tell Lady Aiten—but remember that exposing the Aes Sidhe also means exposing my own ties to that Court, and I may well be executed for treason. I can’t permanently glamour the entire Summer Court into sparing my life.”

  “Shit.” Putting him in the spotlight was the last thing I wanted to do, but why had the assassins targeted the two of us? If they’d just been sent here to eliminate the Seelie Queen’s people—as revenge for her attacks on the Aes Sidhe’s realm—then I’d have no issues with keeping their interference quiet, but this was different. “I’d use my magic to destroy their bodies, but…” I indicated the shadows curling around the hilt of the staff, somehow unable to touch the fallen Aes Sidhe. “How are they all immune to my talisman? Are they carrying those stones?”

  “Let’s find out.” He lifted one of the bodies into the air, and I dug my hand into the pocket of his coat in search of the stone he must be carrying. All I found were knives, each engraved with a swirling symbol on their hilts. The mark of the Aes Sidhe, perhaps.

  Darrow removed the assassin’s cloak and swore under his breath. Beneath the Aes Sidhe’s torn sleeve, marks were visible on his arm, a swirling complex of lines that reminded me of my Gatekeeper’s mark.

  “She gave them magic that made them immune.” I touched the mark on my forehead with my fingertip, my heart thumping at I took in the similarities. The symbols’ meanings whispered through my mind, speaking of bindings and power barely within my comprehension. “That… isn’t faerie magic.”

  The marks were Invocations. The language of the gods.

  I dropped my gaze to the staff, which gleamed with similar glyphs. Darrow did likewise, letting the assassin fall into the undergrowth. “Hazel, what spell is it?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t like it a bit.” Shivers ran up my arms, and I tightened my grip on the staff. “I can’t destroy their bodies while they’re wearing those marks.”

  Darrow drew his knife, and with a methodical motion, sliced off the assassin’s arm. “Will that do?”

  “Maybe.” I raised the staff. This time, the instant the shadows touched his body, it disintegrated into dust. The knot in my chest eased slightly, though a new pang of guilt struck me at the knowledge that we were removing the evidence of an attack, and Lady Aiten would have both our heads if she knew. “What about his arm? I mean, we can’t exactly walk out of here carrying a sack of dismembered limbs without arousing suspicion.”

  Darrow pressed the tip of his knife to the severed arm, cutting a diagonal slash through the symbols. “Try now.”

  I did so, and this time, the arm disintegrated into ashes. “Nicely done.”

  Moving on swift feet, we did the same to the other assassins, leaving the body of the murdered Summer Sidhe beside the dead troll in the hope that it would look as though the troll had gutted him and not the assassins.

  “Why does it feel like we’re covering up a crime?” I let the last body crumble to dust. “If I’d known we’d be dismembering corpses, I’d have asked one of my siblings for advice.” The odd look Darrow gave me compelled me to add, “Because they’re necromancers. Not because they secretly murder people on the weekends.”

  “Right,” he said. “You have a strange family. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Several times a week, yes.” I ducked around a towering toadstool and led the way along yet another path. “Etaina’s people wouldn’t have killed the other competitors, would they? The ones who didn’t open doorways into the Vale, I mean.”

  “You’re forgetting, I am one of Etaina’s people,” he said. “And she would never have ordered me to do anything which might draw attention to our Court.”

  “Unless she doesn’t care if it goes public now,” I said. “She might assume the Seelie Queen told everyone she knew that the Aes Sidhe aren’t as dead as everyone thinks, so she wants to make a statement.”

  “After centuries of secrecy?” Darrow’s expression was bleak. “No. There’s something else she wants.”

  “We all know what that is.” I prodded a wall of poisonous-looking toadstools with the talisman’s base, causing them to shrivel on the spot.

  Darrow didn’t speak for a while. For a wonder, neither did I. It felt like hours had passed while we walked, but time held no meaning here. Silence held the forest in its grip, punctuated with faint rustling noises, and not another soul appeared within sight.

  The gleam of water caught my eye, and we halted at the edge of a river bisecting the forest through the centre. A single bridge ran from one side to the other, wooden but sturdy-looking.

  I glanced at Darrow. “What d’you reckon? Should we look for a way around or walk right across and hope nothing eats us?”
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br />   “Walk across,” he said. “There is no way around.”

  “You sure about that?” I said. “Because that has ‘troll bridge’ written all over it.”

  Bridge trolls were territorial as hell and didn’t like anyone using their chosen bridge without paying a tribute. For some, coins would suffice. For others, the tribute tended to be of the flesh-and-blood variety. I had zero desire to be a snack for a troll, even an illusory one. The river extended both left and right without an end in sight, and with no other obvious bridges, either. A gleam on the opposite side caught my attention. Another token?

  Darrow went still. A moment later, so did I. A Sidhe emerged from the bushes on the other side of the river, a gleaming token in his hands. His skin was ebony, his hair blue-black, and he wore armour decorated with crow feathers.

  “It’s safe to cross,” he called across the river to us. “The bridge troll is unconscious. I dropped some of those deadly flowers into the water.”

  “Why should I believe you?” I called to him.

  “Feel free to take a look.” He lowered the token, amusement gleaming in his bright green eyes. “I thought I’d even the odds.”

  A likely story.

  Darrow, however, climbed onto the bridge. “Then we’ll hold you to your word.”

  Striding across the narrow wooden bridge, he left me with little choice but to step up behind him. My nerves jangled at every creak beneath my feet, and when I glanced at the water, dark shapes moved below the surface. My grip on the talisman tightened.

  Another alarming creak made my body tense, but Darrow took my arm to steady me. “Better?”

  “Nope. Get me off this bridge.” I startled when his grip tightened around my upper arm. He wasn’t usually so open about touching me, but I wasn’t about to complain about having an extra hand to steady me as we crossed the bridge. “Where’s this troll?”

  “There.” He pointed over the edge with his free hand, where the huge lumpy body of a troll lay sprawled half-under the bridge. The Sidhe wasn’t misleading us after all?

  Then the wooden planks gave a sudden, alarming creak. Darrow’s pace quickened as cracks began to appear in the wood below our feet. “Of course there’d be another catch.”

  The bridge split in two directly in front of me, leaving us stranded on the wrong side, suspended above the water.

  “Hazel!” Darrow shouted. “We have to jump.”

  “I’ll never make it.” I didn’t have a Sidhe’s ability to jump impossibly long distances. If I tried, I’d fall into a watery grave.

  Darrow leapt across the gap, easily catching his balance on the edge. “Jump. I’ll catch you.”

  “You’d better.” Cursing myself for trusting the word of a Sidhe, I backed up, and then jumped, sailing over the water.

  Darrow’s hands grasped mine, pulling me tight against him. “Told you I’d catch you.”

  “Yeah.” I leaned closer, feeling his heart racing against mine. “Damn close call, though.”

  His hand cupped my chin. I startled at the unexpectedly intimate moment of contact. His lips brushed mine, his body moulding against me. I felt his beating heart, and the soft silkiness of his hair tickling my face.

  I opened my eyes to find him looking back at me, his green eyes—

  Green?

  Darrow turned away, his face flickering.

  It wasn’t Darrow. He was a glamour. His eyes were slightly the wrong colour, the angles of his face minutely wrong. I jerked out of his grip, my skin prickling.

  “How long have you been following me?” I demanded. “Where the hell is the real Darrow?”

  Had he been left on the other side of the bridge? Shit, I never should have taken my eyes off him for an instant.

  Darrow’s face melted away, revealing another of the Aes Sidhe clones, and he swung a blade at me with blinding speed. I dodged his strike, and the bridge disappeared beneath my feet, pitching me towards the water.

  My hand snagged the wooden edge, splinters digging into my fingers. Holding the talisman awkwardly in one hand, I struggled to catch my balance. A green glow came from beneath the bridge in the spot where it’d broken. He did it. It was him all along.

  The Aes Sidhe kicked a booted foot at me, and I swung the staff at his ankle. He pivoted—while I couldn’t disintegrate him, he could still fall into the water, same as me—and I seized my chance. With a desperate lunge, I dragged myself back onto the bridge, the sharp wooden edges digging into my arms and chest.

  “You’ve really pissed me off now,” I said, blasting him with the staff.

  The shadowy magic bounced off him, dissipating as though no target existed. I drew my knife instead, swiping low, but he dodged with wicked speed. His expression was blank, as though he gained no enjoyment from our conflict. With mechanical motions, he drove his knife towards my heart.

  I deflected the blade with the edge of my staff, wielding it one-handed and stepping around him until our positions were reversed, and he stood with his back to the river. It was tempting to throw his body into the water and leave him for the fishes, but what if his corpse washed up somewhere in the Summer Court and was discovered by one of the Sidhe? I had to dispose of him like the others, or else risk Darrow’s safety. The real Darrow, that is.

  “Who are you?” I stabbed at him, my knife clashing with his. “Did Etaina send you?”

  Our blades locked against one another, and he broke first, the tip snagging the edge of my hand. I gritted my teeth against the sharp pain and swung the staff at him with my other hand. The shadows had no effect, but a giant staff was harder to dodge than a knife. My talisman slammed into his elbow with a satisfying crunch, causing his grip to loosen on his weapon. Teeth bared in a snarl, he went on the attack again. Damn, the bastard was persistent. I gave another swing with the staff, this time knocking his knife out of his hand. In the same instant, he drew a second one with his free hand, narrowly missing my arm.

  “Tell me who you are,” I growled. “Did Etaina send you to kill me?”

  The staff hit him hard in the chin, sending him sprawling onto his back. He spat out blood. “You will not convince me to break my vows.”

  “You’re a disposable clone, but I suppose it’s a waste of time trying to convince you she’s screwing you over.” I gave him another thwack, this one on the forehead. The back of his skull hit the ground, his limbs twitching. “Tell me.”

  “I would sooner die, Gatekeeper.” He bared bloody teeth at me. “I enjoyed pretending to be your lover. He will die a traitor’s death.”

  “Have it your way.” Dropping low, I sank my knife under his ribcage. His eyes—green, not aquamarine—widened as I yanked the knife free with a firm tug. Blood gushed out along with the knife, and his body stilled.

  My hands itched to unleash the talisman’s magic and devour every particle of him until I was rid of the shiver of his fingertips on my skin, his lips on mine, his hair on my face. I sank my fist into his limp face, pummelled him over and over again.

  “Hazel?”

  Darrow. My hands froze mid-punch. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

  “Another one?” He strode to my side. He looked like the real Darrow this time, but then again, so had this dude. “What are you doing?”

  “Redecorating his face.” I stepped aside as he leaned over the body, examining the impact of my knuckles on the assassin’s angular features.

  “If he wasn’t alone, there may be others.” Darrow sliced off the clone’s arm, his blade coming so close to me that I instinctively raised the staff and knocked his arm away. “What is it, Hazel?”

  I opened and closed my mouth. How to get a reaction that would bring out the real Darrow or expose him as another fraud? For once, my imagination failed me. I became aware my hands were shaking. I’d kissed the fake Darrow, let him touch me, and he looked so much like the man beside me that it sent my thoughts in a tailspin. Darrow’s comment about love being a weakness might not have been far off the mark after all.r />
  I lowered the staff. “I’m a little jumpy. That dickhead pretended to be you for a bit.”

  Shock transformed his harsh features. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No.” I raised the staff again, and shadows swept from the talisman to the body, eagerly devouring his every particle. I spat in the spot where he’d vanished, turning back to Darrow. “If you’re not real, I’ll do worse to you.”

  “If you want me to prove I am, then I will do so,” he said. “Ask me any question.”

  My throat closed up, my heart continuing to beat too fast. How can I prove who he is? I didn’t even know his Queen had a crack team of cloned assassins until today.

  “Go on,” he added, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. “You can’t pretend you haven’t been waiting for this opportunity.”

  “Definitely not.” I felt better in an instant. “Okay, tell me one thing only Darrow would know. Anything.”

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” he said.

  “Why, because you haven’t told me anything about yourself?” I said. “What’s your sprite’s name?”

  “Hummingbird,” he said.

  “Where does he live?”

  “In my quarters, in the realm of the Aes Sidhe,” he said. “But any Aes Sidhe might tell you the same.”

  “All right.” I racked my brains. “Where did you find Hummingbird the last time you and I went into your room?”

  “Ah—he was sleeping on a book,” he said.

  “Which book?” I pressed.

  “The complete works of Shakespeare.”

  Relief swept the last traces of doubt away. “All right, let’s destroy the rest of this fucker and get out of here.”

  Darrow sliced through the symbols on the Aes Sidhe’s severed arm, and I destroyed the remains. “Have you read Shakespeare?”

  “A little,” I said. “My sister’s the more studious of our family. The only play I liked studying at school was A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”