Hereditary Magic

by Emma L. Adams

  “She threatened us first,” I pointed out. “What did you do to her?”

  “Showed her the veil,” River answered. “I considered raising that undead you buried in the garden, but I didn’t think it wise to make her more suspicious about my intentions.”

  “Little late for that,” Hazel said. “I can’t believe you did that. That’s a top tier necromancer skill.”

  “I suppose it is.” He closed the door behind him.

  “Is someone going to explain what ‘showed her the veil’ means?” I asked, re-entering the living room. “Like—what, made it look like she had the spirit sight?” Ghosts sometimes had the ability to make themselves seen by people who were usually oblivious to the presence of the dead, but I hadn’t known human necromancers might be able to do the same.

  “Essentially,” River said. “Most people don’t like it when you show them what awaits after death.”

  “That’s really creepy,” Hazel commented. “And effective.” She grinned. “She’s never going to forget that, is she?”

  “Probably not,” said River. “It’s not something I generally use as a first tactic, but given her immunity to magic and the threat she presented…”

  “I had it handled,” Hazel said.

  “No, you didn’t,” I said. “We can’t fight her with magic. She’s got people on her team, framing us for murder. If we don’t clear our names, it won’t matter what she’s planning when we get arrested.”

  “You won’t get arrested,” said River. “Not if I have anything to do with it.” I had no doubt he’d try. Maybe the vow binding him would force him to step up and take the hit if we were locked in jail, even. If he was a top tier necromancer, what in the world had motivated him to give it all up for this? He must have good reason to get himself locked into a faerie vow. Maybe his family in Faerie…

  Okay, Ilsa, that’s enough speculating. You already said you don’t like him. Even if I’d lied to shut Hazel up, so what? He was only here on the orders of a vow, and once this was over, he’d go back to Faerie never to be seen again. They always did.

  “Look,” I said. “The necromancers can raise the guy who died and ask who killed him, right? Then we’ll know who left the mark there. It’ll prove we weren’t responsible.”

  Hazel nodded slowly. “Okay. You’re right.”

  I turned to River. “Can you raise him?”

  “Not without them detecting it, and I don’t think it’ll help matters if I use necromancy on the Ley Line.”

  “Shit.” I considered our options, remembering what else I’d bought from Agnes and Everett. “They should at least listen before arresting the Gatekeeper’s heir.”

  “Not you, though,” Hazel said, worry furrowing her brow. “It’s not worth the risk.”

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ve got it sorted.”

  They both stared at me for a moment. I frowned. “What?”

  Hazel shook her head. “Nothing. What’s the plan?”

  Chapter 14

  “Disguise spells,” said Hazel. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “I got them from Agnes,” I said, looping the necklace over my neck. “Can’t say I know who I’ll turn into, though.”

  Hazel shrugged and put on her own necklace. “I might as well just use glamour,” she said. “That’s more powerful.”

  “It won’t work on faeries. You know that.” I clicked on my spell.

  “And these will? Are you certain?” Hazel gaped at me as the disguise rippled over my skin. “You… okay, that is strong. Good thinking.”

  “Told you Agnes was a genius,” I said. My voice came out croaky. Whoa. That was different. I looked down to see wrinkled hands and old-fashioned clothes. Then I looked at Hazel, who now resembled a man with a grey beard and similar attire.

  “Holy shit,” she said. “We’re Agnes and Everett.”

  I grinned. “It’s perfect.”

  “I’m an old man,” Hazel said faintly. “You know what, I’d rather use glamour.”

  “Even my spirit sight can’t pick up on you,” River commented, pacing around me as though he could see right through the disguise. “It’s quite… uncanny. I’d worry the house’s magic won’t detect who you really are.”

  “Nah, nothing can fool the house,” said Hazel. “Or Arden. But it’s enough for the necromancers. I didn’t know your spirit sight could see beyond glamour.”

  “Most necromancers can’t,” he said. “I can sense how many people are within reach at any moment, and I have a general impression as to whoever’s in the vicinity. If I hone in one person, I can usually tell if they’re using a glamour or disguise. And I can tell if they’re living or dead.”

  “Wow.” Hazel shook her head. “You’re full of surprises.”

  “No more than the two of you.” River looked between us. “I still think this is risky. If you want to speak to the necromancers, they’ll guess who you are pretty quickly. What are the disguises for?”

  “So we don’t get ambushed again,” I said. “Nobody crosses either Agnes or Everett.”

  “All right,” said Hazel. “You know, we’re both going to be grounded forever when Mum gets back.”

  “She can still ground you?” River gave me a sceptical look. “You’re adults.”

  “You tend to forget things like that when your own mother can turn you into a tree on a whim,” I said.

  And with that, I left the house, sweeping in Agnes’s dramatic fashion and wishing I had her ability to jump out of the shadows to back it up. I spun around again when I heard River laughing at me.

  “What?” I said in Agnes’s croaky voice.

  He shook his head. “You’re so…”

  Hazel strutted past as Everett before he could finish responding, and we left the Lynn estate behind.

  Thankfully it wasn’t raining this time, but yesterday’s weather had left slippery paths and muddy trenches all the way down the road to town. Luckily, nobody confronted us until we reached the necromancers’ place. Before I could knock on the door, the spirit of old Mr Greaves materialised.

  “Those spells are a waste,” he said. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

  “How do you know—?”

  “I saw you coming down the hill. But you shouldn’t be here.”

  “The necromancers think we murdered someone,” I said. “You must know we weren’t anywhere near wherever the necromancer died.”

  “My successor thinks otherwise,” he said. “It appears you were sighted near the town hall, two streets down from the murder site. All three of you.”

  “But… we weren’t there.” I looked at Hazel and River, then back at the ghost. “Is someone using—?”

  “A disguise, or a glamour,” Hazel said. “Humans are easily fooled—but the necromancers shouldn’t be.”

  “Not if someone else got hold of those spells,” River said from behind me.

  I shook my head, disbelieving. “Agnes wouldn’t. No way. Can’t the necromancers raise the murder victim and question him? That’ll prove we didn’t do it.”

  But not if the enemy had transformed to look like us…

  “Normally, yes,” the spirit said. “However, as of yet, the necromancers have been unable to recall his spirit. It seems he’s already passed beyond the gate.”

  My heart sank. “Seriously? How’s that possible?”

  I already knew the answer. Because a necromancer committed the murder. And they can control spirits.

  “Because they’re covering their tracks.” Hazel crossed her arms. Or rather, the old man she was disguised as did. I’d have laughed at how Hazel-like the mannerism was if the situation wasn’t so dire.

  “Can you see anything?” I asked. “You can see Beyond, can’t you? Doesn’t that let you see into places we can’t get at?”

  “Technically,” said the spirit. “Now I’m back from the gate, I’m bound here. It’s an insult, really. They expect me to be a consultant on spiritual matters. I’d had enoug
h of that when I was alive.”

  “But you can move around, can’t you?” I asked. “Can’t you go looking for the killer yourself, or at least the person who brought you back?”

  He frowned. “I wouldn’t know where to start. The Ley Line is incredibly volatile. No spirit can go near there without being swept beyond the gates—if they’re lucky. I’ve only been able to stay because I’m tethered here.”

  Damn. “But—I’m almost certain the other Lynn family is behind this,” I said. “They live on the Ley Line, same as us, and we saw Holly Lynn talking to some necromancers yesterday. When they spotted me, they tried to bury me alive. I don’t suppose you’ve seen those two necromancers recently? Guy with the mullet and another with a scar. Couldn’t you sense they were attacking me?”

  “That’s not how it works. I can only get a general impression of who’s in the area, and the defences on your family’s mausoleum don’t help.”

  “So you can’t sense Grandma?” I said, throwing caution to the winds.

  “No,” he said, “I can’t. And you need to leave. You seem to have an alarming habit of implicating yourself in the very crimes you’re being accused of.”

  And he disappeared into fog, fading away. Nothing remained behind but the gate and the building with the blacked-out windows. I debated turning on my own spirit sight, but not with people potentially watching on both sides of the grave.

  “That’s because someone set things up that way,” Hazel said, but he didn’t come back.

  “And we’re going after them at the ball tonight.” Regardless of the danger. There seemed little point in antagonising the necromancers, and we needed a plan of action in case the Winter Lynns played their hand. Somewhat difficult, since I didn’t know what game they were playing. “River, can you sense anyone else close by? Living or dead?”

  He shook his head. So the other necromancers weren’t around, and presumably Grandma’s ghost wasn’t either.

  She didn’t go beyond the gates and leave me alone, did she?

  If all else failed, I’d fall back on my well-honed research skills. Once we got back to the Lynn house, I made for the library, grabbed all the available books on necromancy and the Lynns’ history, and began methodically searching out the relevant sections and dismissing each book as it yielded no information. At the very least, I got to brush up on my knowledge of necromancy and all things magical, but as the pile of discarded books grew, so did my suspicion that this was a version of history not recorded by Gatekeepers past—and that if I wasn’t careful, I’d be joining those forgotten Lynns six feet under.

  I moved the heap of books aside to find River had returned my sci-fi paperback without my noticing. He’d left a note: I borrowed the sequel. I hope you don’t mind. He had absurdly pretty handwriting. I looked out the window, where Hazel and River faced off against one another with practise swords. Despite River’s obvious advantage, speed-wise, Hazel had been trained to go head to head with faeries ever since she’d been chosen as Gatekeeper. I winced at the crunching noise when the wooden sword connected with River’s ribs. I hoped he knew what he’d got himself into.

  Hazel’s gaze snagged on me, and she winked. I stuck my tongue out at her and picked up the notebook I’d been using to record my findings, occasionally looking up whenever there was a particularly loud cracking noise. If I kept my eyes on the page, I could pretend I was fifteen again, listening to Hazel and Mum practise magic and swordplay while hiding in here under a stack of paperbacks. I shook my head at myself for painting nostalgia-tinted rainbows over a seriously messed-up childhood, and got on with my research.

  I didn’t notice the sounds of sparring had stopped until River tapped on the half-open window. Mud smeared his face and his nose was dripping blood. “Your sister fights dirty.”

  “So do the bad guys. Need our first aid kit?”

  “The bleeding’s stopped.” He ran a hand through his hair, which was plastered to his forehead with sweat. “We’re leaving for the ball in two hours, by the way.”

  “I know. Thanks for returning my book, by the way.”

  “No problem. I take it books are your weapons of choice?”

  You have no idea how right you are. “Knowledge is. Unfortunately, we’re lacking in that department, too. At this point, I really don’t think the Sidhe are behind this. Not directly, anyway. This has Mum’s eternal grudge against Aunt Candice written all over it.”

  He frowned. “Grudge?”

  “They had a major argument when we were kids,” I said. “No clue what it was about, but that’s when the truce kicked in. The person trying to kill us is doing it in such a way as to get around the truce. I’d blame Holly, but Hazel and I haven’t even spoken to her or Aunt Candice in years. Maybe Mum ticked her off before going into Faerie and we happen to be in the way of her revenge.”

  “Maybe.” He looked doubtful. “It seems foolish to gamble with life and death stakes over a petty grudge.”

  Life… and death. The book. Holly couldn’t possibly know about it, right? It’d been hidden from sight until Grandma had shown it to me, and Holly was the same age as me. Unless her mother had known…

  “Who even knows how these people’s minds work,” I said to River. “I’ll keep an eye on the clock. Best way to get answers is to wring them from Holly herself.”

  Two hours later, all I had for my trouble was a scribbled account of our misadventures so far, recorded in a spiral-bound notebook for some future Lynn to find. If the book chose someone else, at least they’d be forewarned this time.

  When I went looking for the others, I found that Hazel had set up a circle that covered a section of the lawn. River stood watching her, arms folded across his chest.

  “You’re using a witch spell?” I asked her. “Why not spin a glamour?”

  She looked up from her handiwork. “Because witch spells last longer. I’ll need all my magic if we get into trouble.”

  “Just how many people are coming to this event?” River wanted to know. “It’s harder for me to use my spirit sight to pick out threats in crowded places.”

  “Haven’t a clue,” I said. “People show up from all over. Half-faeries in particular, but other fae living in this realm, too. There’ll be at least a couple of hundred guests. And yeah, I think it’s a bad idea us going at all, but it’s better than staying here and doing nothing.” I hated being backed into a corner, and walking onto Holly’s territory put us entirely at her mercy. But it also put us in the best place to get direct answers, or at least contact with the perpetrators. With the book, Hazel’s magic and River’s talisman, we were hardly defenceless.

  “It’s held right beside the gate into the Winter Court,” said Hazel. “The Vale beasts won’t dare go near the place. That’s why it makes no sense for her to work with them to begin with.”

  “Then it’s not worth the risk,” River said. “Certainly not for you. If I could go there alone, I’d take care of the threat.”

  “I’m not helpless,” Hazel said, anger flashing across her face. “My magic is at its peak right here, and that includes their territory. Plus there’s the truce stopping her family from harming me. If anything, you’re more in danger than I am, so get off your high horse.”

  “I don’t suppose you know how much trouble you’ll be in if the Sidhe perceive that any of us have actually committed these crimes?” River said. “Forget jail—we’ll all be executed. So please at least try to take this seriously.”

  Instead of answering, Hazel activated the spell circle. A swirl of leaves surrounded her, stirred by a sudden breeze that lifted the hair from my head. A moment later, she walked out clad in a leaf-coloured dress that shimmered when she moved, as did the circlet on her head. She glowed all over, golden light blending with green Summer magic.

  A jolt of unexpected jealousy shot through me, more unexpected because I’d long since buried any wish to take her place. No… it was the sheer majesty of her magical facade. Like looking at one of the Sidhe, the
dangerously terrible power that made you want to bow down and worship them. I didn’t feel that, and I couldn’t, because our family’s magic made us immune. But it didn’t stop the knot in my chest from tightening when River looked at her. I found myself averting my eyes, not wanting to see his expression.

  “Come on, Ilsa,” she said.

  “No thanks.”

  “Do you actually have any suitable clothing?”

  No. I didn’t. It wasn’t like faerie balls had been a part of my life in the last five years. I’d long since accepted I’d never be one of the sleek and graceful Sidhe, but my hair was hand-cut and uneven, and unlike Hazel, I didn’t make a concerted effort to stay in shape. I was softer and curvier than she was, and didn’t particularly want to wear something that revealing, especially surrounded by impossibly beautiful faeries.

  Hazel grabbed my arm. “Chill. You’ll look fine.”

  She knew me too well. I gave up resisting and let her drag me into the circle of leaves. Immediately, warmth spread through me, down my limbs to my fingertips. When I next looked down, my ratty jeans and hoody had been replaced by a deep-green dress that was positively modest compared to Hazel’s. But from the way River stared, you’d think the Sidhe themselves had rode through the gates.

  “What?” I said. “Is there a problem?” Shit—my mark hadn’t exposed itself, had it? The witch spell was still around my neck, for all the world like a regular necklace.

  He shook his head. “Nothing.” He turned away, but my skin flushed from the heat of his brief stare. Not the calculating one of a faerie looking to entrance their prey, but pure unadulterated need. Had anyone ever looked at me like that before? I didn’t think so. But now was hardly the time to get any dangerous ideas. Dangerous in a different sense to walking into Winter territory, that is.

  “Is there a time limit on this spell?” I asked Hazel.

  “Worry not,” said Hazel, with a cackle that sounded more like an evil witch than the Gatekeeper’s heir. “It’ll turn back into your clothes at midnight. Don’t worry, you won’t turn into a pumpkin.”