Hereditary Power

by Emma L. Adams

  We spoke the word aloud. And the forest moved. Forest? Holy crap.

  Between one breath and the next, the Ley Line had shifted, the hill had vanished, and only forest remained. Summer territory.

  21

  Trees surrounded us, thick evergreens. The Seelie Court. The vow had brought us to the right place… but I’d hoped it would take us directly to the caster. The Erlking. Nobody appeared to be around, though the sounds of vibrant life surrounded us. Earthy smells, moss and berries and summer flowers. Birdsong. Sunlight.

  Hazel’s breath caught.

  The forest flickered… and the glamour faded. The trees shrank to cadaverous shadows, hunched and dead. Rotting flowers wilted beneath, and the smell of decay caught in my nostrils. A throne appeared, made of the dead roots of a tree trunk.

  For an instant, I was certain we’d accidentally wandered into Winter’s Court, not Summer’s. But the man on the throne wore the green and gold markers of Summer. His golden crown was edged in thorns, and his eyes were alight with Summer magic. He rose to his feet, one hand resting on a carved staff. Power hummed from it, and to my alarm, the book shifted in my pocket. My vision tinted, and I knew the mark on my forehead had begun to glow of its own accord.

  “This is what happens when you bind with a talisman of the gods.” He was beautiful, as all the Sidhe were. But everything around him was dead.

  “How?” Hazel asked, her voice choked. “This… is this where the decay started?”

  “No.” He laughed, a rich laugh. “This part of Faerie has always been rotten to the core. His hand wrapped around the staff’s hilt. It glowed faintly, but most of the glow, the only light here, came from him.

  His talisman… he must have absorbed the magic into himself, and it was the type of Summer magic that drained life away. He couldn’t touch anything without killing it.

  Including us.

  Holy crap. He’s not sick. Everyone else is allergic to him.

  “Why would you claim something like that?” I asked.

  His gaze travelled to me. Don’t look directly in his eyes… but I could, and they didn’t dazzle me. I was too stunned to look away.

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  He knew. He recognised the same magic in me. And while his eyes glowed with Summer power, the talisman he wielded was not of this world.

  Did he kill the gods? Why was he king, if his magic could destroy every one of his subjects?

  “What did you wish to ask me, mortal?” he enquired.

  “You… bound our family.” I forced the words out. “You must have spoken to our ancestors. The other Gatekeepers. The ones you enslaved.”

  “Enslaved?” he echoed. “No… no, your ancestors chose to bind themselves in service to our Court.”

  Bullshit. “Nobody would choose to hand over their own children.”

  “We don’t die,” he said. “The vow works in whatever way is necessary. There is always a Gatekeeper.”

  “There’s apparently always an Erlking, too, but you’re in serious danger,” I told him. “Your wife is a traitor. The Court is dying.”

  He looked at me through vivid green eyes, his lip curling into a smile. “This part of the Court is always dying.”

  “Not here.” I waved a hand vaguely. “How are you still the king? You… you don’t even need to command obedience.”

  He could take a life with a touch… yet he didn’t scare me. Maybe because anyone here could take our lives with no effort. He held no power over me—no more than the other Sidhe did, anyway.

  “You misunderstand, mortal,” said the Erlking. “I assumed, since you found your way to me… but I suppose nobody speaks of the gods anymore.”

  “You killed them.”

  His eyes caught mine. “No, mortal. I took in this power because nobody else would.”

  “I was told you created things… artefacts that could destroy worlds.”

  “Is this to do with whoever destroyed the gods’ ring?” he asked.

  “The what?” said Hazel blankly.

  “We’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, though a suspicion took hold of me. Ivy had mentioned a talisman… and she’d destroyed at least one, if the source of immortality could be called such a thing. No wonder the Sidhe didn’t like her.

  “Pity,” he said. “I wanted to thank them. I spent years trying to rid myself of that monstrosity, but it was stolen from me. Of course, I cannot leave this grove without damaging the rest of this realm, so I was unable to retrieve it. Others from my time created those artefacts. The Courts were created to defend ourselves against them.”

  “I thought… it was to do with bloodlines,” I said. “The heir…”

  “Anyone can claim a throne,” he said. “But I will not relinquish my power as long as this talisman exists. I don’t need to spell out the damage it would do in the wrong hands.”

  No. He didn’t. And ridiculously, I’d forgotten he was Sidhe, and couldn’t lie. Every word he’d said had been the truth.

  “You tied your life force to the talisman,” I said. Almost like… necromancy, in a way. For the Sidhe.

  “Most of us weren’t alive in the time when the gods walked amongst us,” said the Erlking. “The Ancients, the Powers… they were known by many names, and were by all accounts merciless and terrifying.”

  “They say the same about you.”

  The Erlking smiled. “I suppose they’re right. But there are horrors that would put the darkest Unseelie faerie to shame. There are reasons our realm needs immortality to thrive… and I suspect you have guessed that’s what I sent your mother to find.”

  “In the Vale,” I said. “The gods’ magic—what’s left of it—ended up there, right? Unless you have more talismans lying around…”

  “There may be others,” he said. “I sent her for knowledge, nothing more. But you should know… I have been unable to call her back. Whatever force holds her is stronger than our vow.”

  My breath caught. “Stronger?”

  Hazel gasped. “So… something has her captive?”

  He shook his head, a frown darkening his face. “I cannot pinpoint the nature of what holds her. She lives, and she is still within our realm. Yes, I count the Vale as part of this realm, though most do not. You must find her yourselves, if at all.”

  Then we will. We have to.

  “That’s not all we came to ask you about,” I said. “Your wife…”

  “I know she plots against the Court, the fool,” he said. “None of her schemes have ever amounted to anything. She knows what will happen if she defies me.”

  “She murdered someone. Permanently. I’m sure of it. And she tried to kill both of us. I think she’s behind whatever took Mum.”

  The only thing stronger than the Erlking was… another god. But Ivy had said they’d died out. All of them.

  “Again,” he said. “I’m unable to leave this grove to check up on my scheming spouse.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” I asked. “You know she’ll kill us if we accuse her publicly. And you must know we’re not strong enough to kill her, and even if we were, we’d face execution for murdering a Sidhe whether she is guilty or not.”

  “Then you must choose. It’s not up to me… but I can help. Your mother is in the enemy’s hands. So is the gate. The one thing they don’t have is that talisman. Don’t let them get their hands on it.”

  “They don’t want it,” I said. “She could have taken it from me… how do you even know about it?”

  “Because I knew it in another form,” said the Erlking. “I cannot say for certain how it gained the shape that it did, but a piece is missing.”

  A piece is missing? “I don’t understand.”

  “There is much even the Sidhe don’t know. But I will say that my wife believes that if she finds the source of immortality first, she will be strong enough to wield a talisman of her own. And while I would like to be reborn again, there will be war if one person con
trols the source.”

  “Just what is the source of immortality?” said Hazel.

  A cauldron of blood. A chill raced down my spine as he looked us over.

  “Your own magic forbids you from claiming it,” he said. “But you will be unable to speak a word of this to anyone else. The lifeblood of the Ancients carries the essence of immortality. They were endless until we forced them not to be. I claimed this throne because I feared the powers the other Sidhe, especially Winter, would claim without being kept in check. In the end, I was too late. Every god was killed or exiled, reduced to a shadow. And their lifeblood kept our shameful secret alive.” He paused. Not a sound echoed through the clearing, and hardly a breath disturbed the silence.

  “I watched Sidhe fall, entranced by those talismans, or driven to madness,” the Erlking continued. “They were exiled, where they formed their own kingdoms to threaten us, over and over again. Immortality has taken more lives than it has saved, and I rather think your realm has paid most dearly for it. But many disagree. They see it as the natural way of things.”

  “What can we do against the gods?” I asked. “How are we supposed to find our mother?”

  I already knew the answer.

  “The book,” he said. “The missing piece. I haven’t seen it for a while. It used to visit here… maybe it speaks to another now.”

  “It’s alive?” said Hazel dubiously. “It can speak? I thought you said the gods weren’t alive anymore.”

  “Not as they were.”

  That’s no answer. Now I was even more confused. Was he toying with me on purpose?

  “You should leave,” he said. “It was dangerous, what you did. I wish I could offer more help.”

  “You could help by telling us the name of the god inside this book,” I said. “Speaking it aloud didn’t do anything.”

  But we’d been in Death at the time. Maybe its owner was here, in Faerie.

  “Not here,” he said sharply. “You’ll alert other things if you speak that name. Go. Before you’re discovered here.”

  “Wait—”

  But the forest faded, turning to hillside once again. The city unfurled below, wreathed in sunshine. As though nothing had happened.

  As though the foundations of the universe hadn’t shifted.

  “What in hell was that about?” Hazel said, her hair blowing about in the breeze coming off the coast. “He said the gods weren’t alive. And they aren’t. But one of them has Mum and one of them’s flown off with part of your book’s power.”

  Flown off.

  “Hazel,” I said quietly.

  Her brow furrowed. “What? You have this weird look in your eye.”

  “I think…”

  “Ilsa!” River shouted. He and Morgan climbed up from below. They must have been waiting down the hillside.

  “Knew they’d make it out,” said Morgan. “So, what did the Erlking have to say?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way down,” I said. “One quick question, Hazel—in all your research on the family history, did you find out how long Arden has been in our family?”

  Hazel frowned. “No. Where’s Ivy?”

  “She teleported off with that mage of hers,” said Morgan. “Something about the council… I dunno. Where is that little bastard of a bird, anyway?”

  “Probably with Holly,” said Hazel. “It’s not like he could have got us to the Erlking, anyway.”

  “Maybe he could have,” I said. “He’s tied up in the vow as well. Who did that?”

  “The Erlking did?” said Morgan.

  Hazel shook her head, still frowning. “He didn’t mention it, but he must have. Who else? Arden’s a shapeshifter faerie… he was probably sent as a spy. I mean, Arden works for both sides. Maybe Winter sent him instead. Which proves he was a traitor either way.”

  “What else came from Winter?” I asked.

  Hazel looked at me. Then at my pocket, which was still glowing faintly from the close proximity of the Ley Line. “You can’t be implying what I think you are.”

  “I’m lost,” said Morgan. “River is, too, but he won’t admit it. Or he’s too busy messaging someone.”

  River’s attention was on his phone instead. “I’m listening,” he said. “But he’s right—I don’t know enough of your family history to make a judgement call on the bird, only that he can’t be trusted and works for both Courts.”

  “As a neutral force, he said. I remember,” I said. “Which part of the Court is neutral?”

  “The borderlands?” said Morgan. “Or the Vale?”

  “Right…” I shook my head. “This is a long shot. I might have wildly misinterpreted what the Erlking said, but he said the book had a piece missing. Someone bound up its magic, and it must have been a Sidhe… a Winter one. But its power originally came…”

  “From the gods, I know,” said River. “You think you know which god it was?”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” snapped Hazel. “Ilsa thinks Arden is a god.” She snorted. “Sorry, Ilsa. But you know, that’s a wild mental leap to make. The gods are supposed to be more powerful than the Sidhe.”

  “Not with their magic removed,” I said. “They’re mostly dead. Or exiled. To the Vale… I’m not saying I have the slightest clue how its magic got in here, but who dragged me back to the Lynn house in the first place?”

  “Wait,” said Morgan. “There were ravens flying around when I went back to Edinburgh. My memory’s kinda hazy, but I remember following one…”

  We looked at one another. Hazel looked sceptical. So did River. But I couldn’t explain how I knew.

  “The book has a really annoying personality,” I said. “It’s demanding and bossy and refuses to give clear answers. Makes sense that it has part of that damned raven inside it.”

  “Doesn’t that mean you should be able to call him?” said Hazel. “He’s… Ilsa, I’m not being mean, but that raven has never listened to you in his life.”

  “He has the last few times,” I said. “He got us into Summer… but he’s only allowed to obey the Gatekeepers. There’s definitely a vow on him to that effect. And vows probably work just as well on the gods as the Sidhe. The Sidhe borrowed the rest of their magic from them.”

  “Arden,” Hazel called. I shushed her, but she ignored me. “Arden, Ilsa thinks you’re a god.” She laughed. “I wish it were true. It’d help us now for sure. But he’s been no help in times of crisis.”

  “Like I said.” I pulled the book from my pocket. “He’s vow-bound. I don’t think we should summon him here. It’s not like the Erlking… we know he’s a god.”

  “I know Faerie’s magic has gone to your head,” said Hazel.

  I didn’t even have the energy to be annoyed at her for not believing me. “Then let me try summoning him. If he’s a Vale creature and in this realm, I can use necromancy. Worst case scenario is we know one theory is out. Deal?”

  22

  The mages must still be in a meeting, because nobody was in the lobby of their headquarters. I’d have picked the necromancers’ guild as a safer place to try to summon Arden, but the iron bindings would likely stop us. It wasn’t like I actually knew which realm he was in. We’d try necromancy, then if that failed, blood magic. Not that I’d mentioned the latter part yet. Maybe I didn’t need to. If Arden was really bound to our family, then that alone should make him answer our call.

  River brought the candles with him, laying them out on the floor of a spare room.

  “Can you summon someone who’s not a ghost?” asked Morgan.

  “If he’s in the Vale or the Ley Line, since he’s originally from the Vale himself,” I said. “This is as controlled a setting as we can get, and if he’s pissed at us for figuring out what he is, then we need all the protection there is.”

  Not that a dozen candles and an iron and salt barrier felt like much against the gods, but the magic users of times past must have found a way around it. The gods had been involved with this realm for at least as long as the
Sidhe had.

  I also wielded his power. Part of it. For what it was worth.

  I faced the circle. Spoke the words. And ended with the Gatekeeper’s name.

  There was a whirl of smoke within the circle. And then… the winged form of the raven appeared.

  It actually was him.

  Hazel’s jaw dropped. Morgan backed slowly away. And River drew his blade so fast, it blurred.

  “You,” I said to Arden. “Nice of you to show up to help. Have you been helping the Winter Gatekeeper instead?”

  “Actually, I’ve been giving her terrible advice for weeks,” he said blandly. “I wondered when you’d work it out.”

  “You might have told me sooner,” I said heatedly.

  “To prove what, exactly?”

  “That you’re on our side, and not out to kill us.” The book nearly had killed me several times. “You think this is fun? You want us to die?”

  “No. I would prefer to avoid a war. The enemy wants war and your own path will lead to the same. Therefore, I work for nobody.”

  “But you’re still working for her,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “No. I serve the other Winter Gatekeeper.”

  “Holly,” I said. “You’re still… an Ancient. Your magic…”

  The raven cackled. “If I had powerful magic independent of that book, I would have used it to break this spell.”

  Hazel mouthed, Holy shit.

  I arched a brow back at her so as to say, I told you so. Not that I felt particularly triumphant now it hit me that the only way to access the full extent of my book’s power was to wrangle obedience out of the most unreliable raven in any realm.

  “You nearly got us killed before,” I said to him. “You’re not trustworthy at all. How do we know you’re not the one behind the whole scheme? You must have been as powerful as the Sidhe are. Before whatever got you trapped in that form.”

  His eyes flashed furiously. The book glowed in my pocket.

  “Yes, I suppose you could say I was. The first Winter Gatekeeper thought it amusing to keep me chained,” he said dismissively. “I served her every whim for many years, unable to leave their home. Then one day, the dead came through the gate. They attacked the house when the Gatekeeper was absent. Their daughter was left behind.” He paused. “The girl was somewhat accomplished at necromancy, as the line ran in both sides of the family. But it wasn’t enough. Something evil was coming through the gates. Chained as I was, I couldn’t fight it. So I handed my powers over to her. The power was volatile and nearly killed her. After she succeeded in banishing the dead, she sought the help of the council and they offered to bind the power to the book. Such was its power that every one of them was sucked beyond the gates, forgotten, leaving only the book.”