Hidden Crown

by Emma L. Adams

  “You could try.” I held my fists clenched at my sides and met his stare. “I am no thief, nor a murderer. Believe it or not, I have no desire to see the Courts fall into chaos. Nobody in my family killed the king.”

  The half-Sidhe gestured towards a tangle of bushes marking the side of the clearing. A hunched shape pushed through the trees, towering two feet or more above me. Tusks sprouted from its jaws, while its leathery skin looked as tough as concrete.

  “What is this, a test?” I looked the beast up and down. A common garden-variety troll—not that you’d want to find one in your garden—with meaty fists, flat feet the size of sledges, and a dopey expression that indicated it had no idea how it’d got here.

  “We found this troll roaming around a human village, attacking its inhabitants,” he informed me. “If you fail to kill it, I will allow it to finish the job.”

  Oh, you complete dickhead.

  The troll locked eyes with me. Then it charged. I lunged to the side, throwing myself flat to avoid its swinging fists. Rolling to my feet, I unsheathed my iron blade. The knife’s point glanced off its leathery knuckles, and the half-Sidhe glared at me.

  “What?” I backed up a step. “If you were human, you’d carry iron, too. Otherwise, I might as well walk into a lion’s den with a slab of raw meat strapped to my chest.”

  The troll swung a meaty fist. I caught the blow with my knife, tearing a chunk of flesh from its knuckles. Its nails were long and filthy, and smelled as bad as they looked. I whirled, dealing a vicious slice to its ankle, but the beast didn’t get the message that it’d messed with the wrong human.

  I pivoted, slicing into its upper thigh in search of an artery. Dark blood splattered the earth, and the beast’s leg gave way. I darted backwards, avoiding the solid thump as its knees slammed into the ground.

  “See you in hell.” I raised the blade over its head.

  Before the blow could make contact, the beast disintegrated beneath me, my sword connecting with empty air and sending me sprawling flat on my face. The scent of earth filled my nostrils, and even the blood had vanished.

  The whole thing was a glamour. A three-dimensional, breathing glamour. Holy fuck. Who is this guy?

  The half-Sidhe was breathing heavily as though he’d run a great distance, but he straightened upright when he caught me looking. I climbed to my feet, sheathing my knife. Not a droplet of blood speckled the knife’s edges. He had some serious skills for a half-blood.

  “You’re not the killer,” he said.

  I brushed dirt from my knees. “Huh?”

  “The murderer also took down the Erlking’s security troll,” he went on. “They left distinctive marks from their weapons, and their fighting style doesn’t match yours.”

  “Wait, that’s what the test was for? It wasn’t part of my Gatekeeper’s Trials?”

  “You passed, regardless,” he said. “Your family will be sent home until further notice.”

  “You mean you aren’t arresting me?” What the hell was the point in all the deception, then? “Okay, then. Show’s over. Take me home.”

  “You’ll be staying here,” he said. “With me.”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I said. “Who even are you?”

  “My name is Darrow,” he said. “And I am in charge of the Gatekeeper’s Trials.”

  3

  “You’re in charge of the Trials?” I said to the half-Sidhe—Darrow.

  “Yes,” he said. “The circumstances are less than ideal, but the Gatekeeper will play a key role in crowning a new monarch.”

  Might be hard without a crown. His sharp gaze told me he knew exactly what I was thinking, and I scowled right back at him. Not only had he accused me of murder and manipulated me, the stunt he’d pulled with the illusory troll told me he wasn’t interested in playing fair. He’d let the Sidhe throw me into a pit of redcaps if he liked.

  I left the clearing and retraced my steps to the main path by the gate. The Sidhe’s group had scattered, but I spotted Lady Aiten and her dark-haired friend walking away in the direction of the main Court.

  “Excuse me,” I said.

  The dark-haired Sidhe turned on me, his glamour hitting me smack in the face like the faerie equivalent of someone wearing overpowering aftershave. The sharp point of a spear brushed my breastbone. “Leave, Gatekeeper.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Stop pointing that thing at me. I’m not the killer. Your guy here tested me and proved it. I’d like to request another mentor, because I don’t trust someone who accused me of murder to uphold the Gatekeeper’s vows.”

  Not that I’d expected any of the Sidhe to think I was worthy of being treated as an equal, but this Darrow guy was the lowest possible authority.

  “Get back here.” Darrow’s voice carried a dangerous edge. “You must accept me as your tutor or else forfeit the position as Gatekeeper.”

  “At least prove that my family is safe from further accusations.” If I’d been Sidhe, they’d have been tripping over themselves to apologise, but they’d never have accused me in the first place had I been one of them.

  Lady Aiten turned to her fellow Sidhe. “I see nothing wrong in allowing her to see her family leaving the Court.”

  “I suppose not,” said Lord Pointy Spear. “But if the Gatekeeper refuses to take on the Trials, her family will be staying with us for much longer.”

  My hands fisted and I suppressed the impulse to flatten his glamour-perfect nose. “I never said I wouldn’t take on the Trials.”

  “Then there shouldn’t be a problem,” said Lady Aiten.

  Not for you, maybe.

  A flash of light bathed the path in bright green, and Mum appeared in front of the two Sidhe, her eyes shining with emotion she couldn’t voice in front of her cold-eyed audience. “Hazel.”

  “Glad you’re okay.” I gave Darrow a sideways glance, sure he’d be scanning me for weaknesses, but his gaze was on his fellow Sidhe. “What about Ilsa and Morgan?”

  “They’re at home,” she said. “They weren’t accused.”

  She means they’re still in Edinburgh. “I’ll come home as soon as I can.”

  In other words, whenever Darrow decided to let me go, which might be days or weeks in human time.

  Lady Aiten walked behind Mum to escort her through the gate. Lord Pointy Spear remained on the path, while Darrow kept an eye on him. From their body language, the Sidhe didn’t like him and the feeling was mutual. Small wonder, because on a surface level, it looked as though he’d inherited the lion’s share of his Sidhe parent’s magic.

  I’ll have to duel this guy at some point in our training. That means I should probably figure out how to get the best of him.

  Aside from iron, faeries were vulnerable to brute force. They relied on their speed and graceful balance to dodge attacks, but when they got hit, they went down hard. They also lacked physical strength and leaned heavily on their magic to deal damage. I hadn’t seen Darrow fight yet, but given his proficiency with glamour, I’d bet it played a major part in his fighting style. A half-faerie mentor was closer to my equal than a Sidhe would be, so at least I had that going for me.

  The Summer gate closed behind Mum, and without another word, Lady Aiten and her companion retreated down the path, leaving me alone with Darrow.

  All right. My family was safe, out of reach of the Sidhe. Now the rest was up to me.

  “All right, Darrow,” I said. “I can call you that, right?”

  From his silence, I guessed that was a ‘yes’.

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” I went on. “So, let’s start over. Do you have a family name?”

  “I do.” He didn’t elaborate.

  This was going well. “My name is Hazel. Just in case you wanted a change from ‘Gatekeeper’.”

  He indicated the path to the clearing. “We will walk this way, Gatekeeper.”

  Well. If that didn’t tell me where I stood. “Okay, whatever you say.”

  The forest rustled around u
s, ancient oaks older than human history reaching finger-like branches to the vibrant blue sky. As a creation of magic, the realm existed in a state of eternal summer, the flowers never wilting, the trees evergreen, the skies unmarked by a single cloud. Fragrant smells of jasmine and honeysuckle drifted on the breeze, mingling with the earthy scents of the undergrowth as Darrow’s faerie-swift steps led the way down the well-trodden path to the clearing. I kept an eye out for any more glamoured trolls, but it seemed I’d have to wait to see which trick he planned to pull out of his hat next.

  “You will face a number of Trials,” he said, without turning around. “They’ll test your ability to handle all that Faerie might send your way, from glamours to the elements, beasts and natural forces. You also won’t be permitted to use iron.”

  “Iron is as much of an advantage as magic.” I folded my arms, feeling the outline of the engraved wristband under my glamoured clothes. No way was I removing that. “You’d use it if our positions were reversed.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I would. But those are the rules. No iron. You’ll fight as what you are—an inferior mortal.”

  “You’re such a charmer, do you know that?” I halted behind him as we reached the clearing. “What’s on the agenda today, then?”

  “Today, I will test your limits.” He turned around and extended a hand. “Give me the iron.”

  I unsheathed the blade and held it out handle-first, and he took it without so much as flinching. Oddly, he didn’t wear gloves. No half-faerie could stand the touch of iron for long, but he tossed the knife aside as though it were nothing more than a branch.

  I checked my other weapons remained within easy reach. “Who will I be duelling? You?”

  “Yes.” He drew a sharpened blade. “Show me what you’ve got.”

  “Was the troll not enough?” I whipped out one of my carved wooden blades. “Hand to hand, weapons, or anything goes?”

  He stabbed at me in answer. I dodged, whirling, and our blades clashed. He was as fast as I’d expected—more so, if anything—and a flicker of panic stirred within me. The earlier fight and my near-arrest had sapped more of my energy than I’d have liked. I pushed the raw, fragile human part of me aside and drew on my years of training.

  I knew what to expect from Faerie by now. No mercy.

  Our blades collided, neither of us giving ground to the other. He moved too fast for me to pinpoint any weak angles, and he fought equally well with both hands. It was standard training in Faerie, and my education had mirrored theirs in some ways. While I’d never fought a Sidhe, I’d spent half my school days sitting in detention for starting fights with the local half-faeries for picking on my siblings. I found myself grateful for those indelicate brawls now, yet no matter how many dirty tricks I tried, Darrow’s composure never wavered.

  Despite his skill, he never used magic, though he hadn’t said it wasn’t allowed. Fending him off with my blade, I called the Gatekeeper’s power to my free hand and sent a ball of green energy at him. The bolt of green light struck the earth, coalescing into a thorny mass that forced him to step out of range.

  Bolstered, I followed up with two more short bursts of green energy. Thorny bushes boxed him in on either side, yet he didn’t slow, nor did he show any visible alarm. Our blades clashed, over and over. Sweat drenched my back and plastered my hair to my forehead. He’s going to fight until one of us collapses.

  I directed my magic at the thorny plants, and their stems twisted around his ankles, climbing to his weapon hand. Then my blade found his throat. “Surrender.”

  Blue light suffused his eyes, and the thorns shattered into fragments as though they were made of glass.

  In my split second of shock, he raised his sword and knocked the blade from my hand, sending me flying off my feet. I landed on my back, finding the point of a sword at my own throat. Shards of broken thorn dug into my spine. They’d frozen solid. No way.

  “Bloody hell,” I said. “You’re a hybrid.”

  He could use Winter and Summer magic. Both his parents must be half-blood—one Seelie, one Unseelie— which also explained his oddly coloured eyes. Few half-Sidhe of his ancestry had abilities in both types of magic, since one tended to win out over the other.

  He lifted his blade from my neck. “Get up.”

  I pushed myself onto my elbows. “I’m impressed.”

  It wouldn’t kill him to be a little less frosty with me, even if he did have Unseelie ancestry. Okay, he was probably discouraged from making friends with the Gatekeeper, but it’d been a genuinely fun sparring contest, and I’d gone into it expecting to lose. After all, it’d be a short partnership if I kicked his arse before the Trials even started.

  He waited for me to stand, then said, “If you choose to proceed with your Gatekeeper’s Trials, there’s a compulsory binding ceremony you must attend. Since the investigation into the Erlking’s murder is taking much of the Court’s attention, we will be completing the ceremony alone.”

  “Sure.” Since he didn’t oblige, I fetched my iron knife from where he’d thrown it. His gaze cut to me, sharp as the blade point. “What? I’m not going to use the knife on you. I’m taking it home.”

  The knife had been a present from my siblings, and I wouldn’t leave it behind in Faerie.

  “Keep it sheathed,” he said. “And don’t show it to anyone if you desire to walk out of Faerie with your life.”

  “All right, keep your hair on.” I returned the knife to its former place, my hands still shaking a little from the exertion of our battle. “That was a good match. I enjoyed it.”

  He made no response. Instead, he led the way out of the clearing and walked a short distance through the woods until we came to a meadow of knee-deep grass. The air was thick with heat yet somehow not stifling, while magic’s vibrant scent mingled with the fragrant scents of flowers that never ceased to bloom. The sound of a nearby river flowing formed a soothing backdrop, yet otherwise, the Court seemed oddly quiet. No Sidhe riding along the paths on their immortal steeds, no chattering nereids bathing in the streams, no dryads’ trees rustling with gossip. Had the Sidhe told everyone of the Erlking’s passing yet? Had Winter found out? Questions buzzed in my ears like a swarm of bees, urging me to break the silence.

  “Why do I need to do this binding ceremony?” I asked. “I thought I was already bound to serve your Court.” It wasn’t like I could ever forget it. If I tried to walk too far away from the Ley Line dividing earth from Faerie, the magic of the family curse would kick in and more or less drag me back there. Should I ignore it… well, I had no desire for my dismembered body to end up scattered all over the Scottish Highlands, so I hadn’t tested the limits to that extent.

  “Before you take the Gatekeeper’s Trials, you will be required to swear that you will accept the position of Gatekeeper, should you pass.”

  “I thought that was in the job description.” When his expression went blank, I added, “The second I was chosen as Gatekeeper, I was entered to take the Trials by default. I’m not all that keen on the alternative.”

  Namely, being torn to pieces by the backlash of a broken vow.

  “I suppose you wouldn’t be,” said Darrow. “However, the binding has another requirement.”

  “Like what?” Nobody had mentioned a binding. Was it a new thing, or had Mum been ordered not to speak of it to me?

  “The binding will make me aware of your movements at any given time,” he said. “And if, say, you were to trespass out of bounds, I would know.”

  “Where would I possibly go?” That’s not good. I don’t want to literally be tied to him, thanks. “I can’t say I’m all that keen to pay a visit to Winter.”

  “I’m told you and the Winter heir are friends.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” I said. “Have you met Holly yet? Did you train her?”

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss my previous assignments.”

  Right, right. The Sidhe held both of us on a tight leash. He was probably vow-b
ound not to spread intel gained from the Summer Court with Winter, and vice versa.

  Though come to think of it, did that mean the Winter Court employed him, too? I hadn’t thought Summer invited people onto their territory who held divided loyalties. Half-bloods weren’t born as part of a Court and bound to serve from birth as the Sidhe were, so it was possible he hadn’t told them, but deceiving the Sidhe was riskier than prodding a sleeping ogre with a stick.

  Our route took us past villages and large estates, yet we never encountered a soul. My skin prickled with unease, and it was almost a relief when a group of chittering piskies flew overhead, tugging at my hair. I swatted them away and carried on walking down the path flanked by leafy plants which led to the ambassadors’ palace.

  “I know the circumstances are less than ideal,” I said to Darrow. “But you could stand to be a little friendlier.”

  “The Summer Court is in turmoil the likes of which hasn’t been seen in generations.” His tone was even, his words precise. “It will be your role to see the Court into a new age and either steer it on the right path or watch it crumble.”

  “Oh, no.” I raised my hands. “I’m not obligated to do anything but stop the Sidhe from letting their warriors wreak havoc on earth.” Again. “Besides, they don’t want me to help them. They were five seconds from executing me earlier.”

  “The Sidhe’s behaviour is the result of fear. Not only have they faced death, they’ve also lost their leader, who they thought to be eternal.”

  “You don’t seem scared.” Then again, he was half-blood. He’d live a human lifespan, same as me. While the Sidhe’s glamour hid their real ages, he likely wasn’t much older than I was, either.

  “Your point?” The elaborately carved gate that marked the entrance to the ambassadors’ palace opened at his touch. Anyone who didn’t know the Erlking’s circumstances might assume the impressive palace was the monarch’s home, but the opulent building was nothing more than a meeting point for Sidhe ambassadors.