Hereditary Magic

by Emma L. Adams

  “Have you already been drinking?” I rolled my eyes at her.

  “Only one drink. If I show up half-intoxicated, I have an excuse to turn down their offers of potentially poisoned beverages. You clean up nicely. Your turn, River.”

  “No thank you,” River said. “I can glamour myself if need be, but I don’t intend to draw attention.”

  Hazel apparently missed the warning note in his voice, because she laughed again. “You’re lucky it’s a faerie event. Watch out the humans don’t throw themselves at you, pretty boy.”

  “Hazel,” I said. “We need an alibi for why the Gatekeeper isn’t with us. If it was on our territory, we could get away with pretending she was in bed with flu or something, but somehow I don’t think they’ll go for that.”

  “Precisely why I think this is a bad idea,” River said, with an oddly protective note to his tone. Directed at me or Hazel, I couldn’t say.

  Arden swooped in and landed on Hazel’s shoulder, a self-important look on his face.

  “You decided to show yourself?” I asked him.

  “Of course,” said the raven haughtily. “It wouldn’t do to leave you alone. But for Summer’s sake, can you try not to draw attention to yourselves?”

  “Like they won’t pay attention to us anyway,” I said. “Especially after our argument with Holly. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d planned some form of revenge.”

  Like an angry wraith, for instance. But what we were missing was a motive. I didn’t blame River for being suspicious. And thanks to the book’s spell, I couldn’t tell him that the person who’d accidentally raised old Mr Greaves and caused heaven knew how many side effects… was me.

  “Arden,” said Hazel. “Your time has come.”

  “I beg your pardon?” said the raven.

  “You’re a shapeshifter,” said Hazel, still grinning. “A master of impersonation, and bound to serve our family.”

  “I also can’t leave your territory,” said Arden, fluffing his feathers.

  “Yes, you can,” I said. “You came to find me.”

  “What?” yelped the raven, fluttering off Hazel’s shoulder. “You can’t force me to impersonate the Gatekeeper.”

  “Need I remind you there’s a threat to our security?” put in Hazel, sounding disconcertingly like Mum.

  “Isn’t that a good reason for me not to come?” he asked.

  “No,” said Hazel. “The house is protected. Ilsa doesn’t have magic and we’re walking into enemy territory. We need to show them we aren’t vulnerable.”

  I stared in open astonishment. Hazel was not only worried about me, she was strong-arming Arden of all people into helping.

  “Oh, all right,” snapped Arden. “But you owe me for this.”

  And he transformed into a woman, tall and proud in elegant shades of green, a silver crown atop her head. Honey blond curls cascaded down her back, and she had one of those ageless faces that might have been twenty or forty—more fae than human, almost. But a face I knew as well as my own. The Summer Gatekeeper.

  “This had better not take long,” she said, with such Arden-like mannerisms that the spell broke and I looked away. No. Mum’s not here. It’s up to us to handle this alone.

  “C’mon. Let’s storm Winter’s castle,” said Hazel.

  Chapter 15

  Though I’d put on a thin jacket over my dress, I shivered as we walked down the path from our home, the opposite way to the village, and turned right. The path shimmered and changed, and ahead of us lay the Winter estate. It might have been our house’s double, except instead of bright green foliage coating the outside, the whitewashed walls were bare, almost aggressively lifeless. Frost-coated hedges swept over the fences, branches sharp and covered in poisonous-looking berries.

  Arden walked at our side. Once I’d got over the initial shock, I had to admit the spell was a good one—a really good one. Arden’s walk was our mother’s. So was his voice. It actually creeped me out a little. Arden had used a similar spell when messengers came to the house and Mum didn’t want to speak to them, but would it fool the Gatekeeper of Winter? The two weren’t friendly, but it would only take one wrong word to rouse her suspicions.

  A wave of snowflakes fluttered past as we walked through the front gate. The sounds of chatter reached us, along with an eerie tune that suggested Aunt Candice had hired a faerie band again. At least Hazel and I were mostly immune to the side effects of faerie music.

  “Good thinking,” I said to Hazel, jerking my head in Arden’s direction. “He can divert their attention while we snoop around.”

  “Not to mention my magic works perfectly fine—and Holly knows it,” said Hazel. “Pity I can’t teach her a lesson, unless I drop a tree branch on her. Or throw her into the fountain. Unless you’d like to do the honours, River.”

  He shook his head. “I’m still an associate of the Summer Court. They wouldn’t be pleased with me for violating Faerie’s peace agreements as well as yours.”

  “Then we’d better hope they’re on their best behaviour.” My nerves spiked. Since all the local half-faeries, half-Sidhe included, were likely here, we’d be the least of the attendees’ focus—but the solid weight of the book in my shoulder bag didn’t quite quell my sense of foreboding.

  What we needed was proof that Holly and her mother were responsible for the necromancer’s death, the wraith, and the swarm of recent undead. Holly had definitely been speaking to those necromancers who’d attacked me, but there was no way the living Mr Greaves would believe us without proof. And River looked just as guilty thanks to his own necromantic powers. Even the Court might not take his word for it. There’d been no witnesses to the attempts on our lives. Unless we found and apprehended those necromancers and forced them to confess to what they’d done.

  “You might at least pretend to be in the party mood,” Hazel said, prodding River in the side. He wore a slight glamour that darkened his hair and slightly altered his features in order not to be recognised if we ran into Holly. It wouldn’t fool her if she saw him close up, but would at least get him into the party without drawing attention.

  He shot Hazel a frown. “It’s all of our necks on the line. And if I spot any enemies, I’m getting both of you out of there.”

  Hazel strode forward and rang the doorbell. The smooth pine-wood door swung in immediately, and a wrinkled old redcap beckoned us inside. The Winters kept faeries as slaves rather than putting a spell on the house like Mum did, in an apparent attempt to play up to every available stereotype of the Winter Court. Not that Summer couldn’t be ruthless and cruel as well, but they at least tried for a pleasant façade.

  We passed through the hallway, which again, was remarkably similar to home—even the faces in the portraits. The resemblance was uncanny, considering how many generations had passed since the two branches of the Lynn family had split. I’d always thought I got my darker hair from Dad’s side of the family, but there was a woman in one of those pictures who could have been my sibling.

  I shivered, drawing my arms around myself and wishing I’d brought a thicker coat. Icy air swirled in through an open window like air con turned up to max. Eerie white lights dotted the hallway, showing only the path ahead and leaving the rest in shadow.

  Hazel made a disparaging noise. “Could they be any more obvious? They might as well have a sign on their roof saying “We’re the culprits.””

  “Quiet,” I hissed.

  “This way,” said Arden in Mum’s voice, beckoning ahead.

  “Damn, I thought it was really her, then,” said Hazel in an undertone. “What the hell’s up with this hallway? Feels like we’ve walked a mile.” She walked along, tottering a bit in her heels. Still pissed, apparently. Not good.

  “It’ll be a spell,” I said. “You know they like their theatrics.”

  I just hoped we weren’t the star attraction. Arden might look like Mum, but he didn’t have any of the Gatekeeper’s power. All he could do was shift forms or turn into a bi
rd and peck people’s eyes out. The lights grew brighter, until a door finally waited at the end, leading into the garden.

  The rippling lawns of the Winter estate were almost entirely coated in snow. Frost glittered on leaves of draping plants, which would reveal sharp thorns or creeping branches if we got too close. The forest at the back of the garden was shrouded entirely in darkness, masking Winter’s gate from view. A frozen fountain played in the centre of the lawn, near which a group of eerily beautiful fae with pointed ears and sapphire eyes lounged. The sight of human men leaping into the ice-cold water made my own teeth chatter.

  “Nixies,” muttered Hazel. “Make sure River stays away from them. Their magic causes any heterosexual human male in the general area to strip and dive into the water. I mean, I assume he likes women. Half-faeries aren’t usually picky, and he likes you—hey, maybe both of you should go for a swim. You do need to chill out.”

  “Hazel, shut up. What exactly were you drinking?”

  “Elf wine. Because it might have escaped your attention that we’re fucked halfway to the faerie realm.”

  “One of us is.” I gave her a warning look. “Please at least try some self-control. Why are there even humans here at all?”

  “Because someone likes entertainment.” She indicated a group of half-faeries laughing at the humans shivering in the fountain. “Nasty little shits. Lucky River’s not like… where is he, anyway?”

  “Keeping his distance, avoiding attention, and doing everything we’re supposed to do. Did I mention avoiding attention?”

  The crowd seemed to have doubled in the last few minutes, from armoured half-Sidhe to pointy-eared redcaps, imps and tiny piskies. A group of dryads had literally taken root in one corner, their bark-like skin making them look like part of the scenery. Redcaps wandered through the crowd, handing out drinks. I knew better than to trust anything the faeries offered us for refreshment. Too many cautionary stories began with mortals unwittingly wandering into Faerie, accepting food or drink, and ending up pledging their soul for all eternity. Not that they needed us to do that. They had us already, and they knew it. It looked like half the faeries in the Highlands were here. Most of the guests were faeries, but some humans wandered around, expressions dazed. And…

  I stopped dead, seeing a group of people in cloaks a short distance away.

  Hazel saw, too. “Didn’t know the necromancers came to faerie parties.”

  It’s the bastards who attacked me. They couldn’t be discussing their evil schemes out in the open… right?

  Hazel stiffened. “Ilsa—was it them?”

  “Yep. Holly’s sidekicks,” I muttered. “All right. I’m going to—”

  A dark-haired female figure stepped out in front of us. “Thought I heard my name,” said Holly. She was stunning, of course, her blue dress the colour of a waterfall in full flow. Her pale skin glittered and snowflakes studded her midnight-black hair. While I felt like a kid playing dress-up, Holly owned the not-quite-human, not-quite-Sidhe look.

  “We wondered where you were,” said Hazel. “Seeing as it’s your party. Didn’t know you’d invited your necromancer friends.”

  “We aren’t friends,” she said. “The necromancers have some interesting things to say about you. Where’s your bodyguard?”

  “We don’t have a bodyguard,” I said. “We’re capable of fighting our own battles. And that includes false accusations and attempts to frame us for crimes we never committed.”

  She shrugged. “You look guilty. Just passing on an observation.”

  “You bitch,” hissed Hazel. “You made a deal with the dark Sidhe to break the peace agreement, didn’t you? Why?”

  Holly blinked innocently. “The outcasts aren’t permitted to enter here. Judge for yourself. Every attendee has magic.”

  “That’s not what we meant and you know it,” Hazel said heatedly. “You sent assassins after us from the Vale.”

  Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “And those two tried to bury me alive.” I indicated the necromancers… but they’d gone. The pricks had slipped out of sight while Holly had diverted our attention.

  “Where’s Aunt Candice, anyway?” Hazel asked.

  “I could say the same for your mother,” she said witheringly. “Well?”

  “Didn’t you see her come in? She’s over there.” I pointed towards where Arden had begun to circle the crowd on the yard, in full-on serious Gatekeeper mode, knowing how much trouble we could get into if anyone guessed the truth. “So don’t try anything. And remember we know what you did.”

  Those necromancers… River and Mr Greaves hadn’t been able to find them because they’d been hiding right here. The Ley Line hid them from his necromantic powers.

  Magic sparked into Holly’s eyes, which glowed blue. “Don’t push me—either of you.”

  An icy breeze blew from her—a threat she couldn’t follow through, because she couldn’t harm either of us. That’s why she had people acting on her behalf, but it was impossible to wring the truth from her without leverage. And we had none. I’ll catch those necromancers instead, then.

  “See you around,” she said, and with another rush of Winter magic, she was gone.

  Hazel made to run after her, but I caught her arm, shaking my head. “Hazel—”

  “I’m not getting out of this without finding out what she’s doing.”

  “Great idea, but you’ve been drinking, and besides, we can’t harm her even if she’s guilty.”

  She shot me a furious look. “If she destroys the peace agreement, it’s one step away from a war. I’m not letting that happen on my watch. No way in hell.”

  The crowd moved, surging around us, and it became difficult to keep her within sight. A group of Unseelie knights passed in front of me, and when I got past them, Hazel had gone.

  I elbowed my way through the crowd, cursing under my breath. Hazel was being plain stupid, and heaven knew it wasn’t my responsibility to keep her safe—that honour went to her bodyguard, who I spotted standing near a frost-covered bush. Sidestepping a group of redcaps, I went to join him. “Hazel wandered off.”

  “I’m on it,” River said in a low voice. “I can sense her. I’ll pick up on it if she’s in trouble, but I have to stand back here to hone in on her. There’s too many people otherwise.”

  “Necromancers,” I said. “The two who tried to kill me were right there, but they vanished.”

  His eyes flashed silver. “Where?”

  “They disappeared. But they’ve been hiding here on the Ley Line. Maybe they summoned the wraith.”

  He shook his head. “A much stronger necromancer would be needed to cause a surge on the Ley Line. A master one.”

  “Greaves?” I asked uncertainly.

  “No. I’ve spoken to him enough times to know he has very little knowledge of Faerie, the Vale included.”

  “Someone must know.” I looked at the crowd. The sound of faerie music drifted above the mass of bodies, along with the chill breeze. Instinctively, I found myself moving closer to him, shivering. As a Summer faerie, he couldn’t be particularly comfortable standing in the cold either. Perhaps it was the hint of faerie music messing with me, but I wanted to get it out in the open. “River, I didn’t mean what I said to Hazel. I do like you. And I’m grateful for what you’re doing for my family. I’m just… highly strung, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  “I don’t blame you. I’d be angry in those circumstances, too. And I apologise for implying you were in any way guilty of a crime.”

  Words were easy in the dark, when nobody could hear and judge. “No worries. We sure look guilty. I wish…”

  I wish I could tell you the truth.

  Wait a moment. Agnes and Everett had known, but they’d seen the mark. River hadn’t, because I’d been hiding it every time we’d been near one another. But faerie vows could be undone if a person guessed what the vow contained without being told. Maybe this one was the same. If I left the bo
ok lying around so River would see it, he’d know. If the book even let me do that.

  “Yes?” He stood close. Too close. My cheeks warmed, my body remembering the downright carnal way he’d stared at me when Hazel’s spell had worked its magic, and when his own magic had brushed against my shield.

  I licked my lips, lost for words, and shook my head. “To be honest, I’m making this up as I go along.”

  “Aren’t we all?” He raised his eyebrows as I gave him an incredulous stare. “I was sent to guard your sister with an absolute bare minimum of information.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “What I was going to say earlier,” he murmured. “I meant to say… I can’t think of anyone without magic who could possibly have handled today better than you did.”

  My mouth parted in surprise, and more than ever, I wanted to tell him the truth. When he found out, no matter what, he’d be angry with me for concealing the book from him. He’d risked everything to put himself between us and the wraiths, after all.

  Cold air whipped past us, sending me stumbling on my heels. Above the house, a shadow passed overhead. A chilling breeze rose, the wind of death itself, and a grey film covered the world, muting every sound and turning each individual into a shadowy outline.

  No. Not again.

  Above the crowd, the wraith burned, a shock of blue-white light. Bright as Winter magic. It couldn’t be a conscious being, yet somehow, it was. An empty shadow of its former self, radiating malevolence. Screams rang out as the crowd looked up, panic crashing over them, yet I couldn’t move. Its power held me captive, demanding my attention.

  Grab the book. Now. My hands were numb, refusing to obey my commands.

  Then I saw River had gone, moving towards the wraith with determination in his stance.

  I broke free of the spell, running after him—and Holly appeared in front of me, her eyes accusing.

  “She did it!” Holly screamed, pointing at me. “She summoned it. Look at her!”

  Screams came from the crowd, but they’d merged into a white blob amongst the grey. The spirit sight—I couldn’t turn it off. Holly’s soul blazed bright, but I’d lost track of River behind the wraith’s dark, horrifying presence. Shadows moved, and the crowd’s accusing shouts broke through the roaring in my ears.