I rocked back on my heels, wishing I’d brought a chair to fall into. “You woke the book for me so I could wield it against a similar enemy. But you hid most of the right information from me until it was too late. Why?”
“Your idea of the ‘right information’ would have wrought destruction if used at the wrong time.”
“And you’d know? You weren’t even there.”
The raven flapped his wings, hovering within the circle. “The book’s original owner knew the dangers it posed. She knew the gates wouldn’t be closed forever. The oblivion beyond the gates waited, and others waited to claim it. So she kept the book and left no record of how to use it.”
“If she’d left a record, I wouldn’t have been running around clueless while people got hurt,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
“Or you might have died yourself. You should know what the book does when its power isn’t contained. You are not the same as one of us. You’re mortal.”
“No shit,” I said. “I know I’m mortal. The book has been tearing me apart every time I use it. But there’s no other option. Is the whole point in it that I turn into a martyr or let the worlds fall apart? It’s not like the Sidhe are exactly careful with their magic either.”
“Of course they aren’t,” said the raven, his beady eyes gleaming.
“Can you at least tell me where Mum is? She’s in the Vale. Along with the gate. And whatever is holding her is stronger than the Erlking. What are we supposed to do?”
“Kill it. Everyone can die, even the gods,” the raven spat.
The summoning circle trembled. Then the ceiling opened, and plaster dust rained down. Shouts came from outside, but sounded oddly muted.
I’ve seen this before. “Did you do it?” I demanded. “You’re breaking the house.”
“Not me,” he said. “Caw. Run. Run.”
A tremendous blast of icy air rushed into the room, and Holly ran in through the open door. She looked at the summoning circle, then at me.
It wasn’t her eyes looking at me, but the Winter Gatekeeper’s.
“Finally,” she growled. “If only I’d known there was one of the gods beside me all this time…”
My spirit sight flickered, showing me two spirits where there should only be one. The Winter Gatekeeper must have crossed over from the gate, long enough to latch onto Holly’s body and temporarily possess her. And her magic had come along for the ride.
Arden screeched. His body shifted forms, to a larger bird with sharp talons, and he lunged out of the circle at Holly. Before he struck her, he collided with an invisible barrier. Dust continued to rain down, and creaking noises came from overhead.
The Winter Gatekeeper’s laughter came from Holly’s mouth. “The curse still binds you even in that form. You cannot harm the current Gatekeeper… and now that’s me once again.”
But I can. The book’s power hummed in my fingertips, and the binding words left my lips—
Not before she screamed a word. My body left the ground, slamming into the wall. River shouted my name, and a rain of plaster dust drowned out everything else. I pushed away from the wall, my vision swimming.
The window shattered in an explosion of glass and Ivy Lane jumped in, pointing her blade at Holly. “I have no idea who you are, but you look like someone I have to kill.”
“Ilsa.” River ran to me. I groaned. The book’s power… Where was it?
An Invocation. She spoke an Invocation. The words of the gods—she’d done something to my magic. And the house. The rain of plaster dust had stopped, and though creaking noises came from overhead, the building had stopped collapsing.
All eyes locked onto Arden, who kept shapeshifting. Morgan spoke the banishing words, but Arden didn’t vanish from the circle.
The Winter Gatekeeper laughed lightly. “You can’t so easily banish a god when you summon one, you foolish children.”
“Go back to hell,” I growled. I didn’t want to hurt Holly, but I’d restrain the evil spirit by any means necessary. Come on, book. She couldn’t have indefinitely blocked its power.
River’s hands lit up, and he ran at Holly, blasting her in the direction of the circle. He wasn’t bound by the spell not to harm her, but Holly barely stumbled. A knife appeared in her hands. No.
Ivy got there first, but Holly shouted an Invocation again. Everyone in the room fell to the ground, pushed by a relentless force. I could barely raise my head to watch as Holly grabbed Arden’s struggling body and stabbed him in the throat. Blood poured over her hands.
“Lifeblood,” I whispered. “Shit.”
“Tell me that bird isn’t what I think it is,” Ivy muttered.
“I can’t do that. Sorry.” The powerful force continued to press on me. “She’s trying to recreate the cauldron of blood. That god… his power’s in the book.”
Holly gasped, falling to her knees, as the Winter Gatekeeper’s spirit let go of her, dissolving into the bloody mass on the floor.
The blood rose like a living force, encasing the Winter Gatekeeper’s spirit like she was solid. Her outline gleamed, no longer remotely like a ghost. The god’s blood filled in the gaps, binding her to the land of the living once more.
“I am the first to be reborn,” she said, with a smile.
Holly stared at her in horror, at the thing that had once possessed her, given life once again. The Winter Gatekeeper’s raven-black hair was glossier than it’d been before. Her face was angular and her ears pointed. Black armour encased her body, now taller and sleeker than a human’s. She’d always been striking, but now she was breath-taking—and raw Winter magic shone in her glowing blue eyes.
“I’ll let the Sidhe queue up to beg to be next,” she added, then spoke a word. The blood on the floor disappeared in a whirl of light, which passed into her hands. In the blink of an eye, she held a book covered in leather the colour of blood. “I thought this was an appropriate host for power. Ancient tomes hold magic, don’t they, Ilsa?”
I couldn’t respond or move. My throat was dry, my mind fighting the instinctive fear of setting eyes on one of the Sidhe. She might still superficially resemble the mortal she’d been before, but my mind screamed wrong at the very idea of one of them standing in this realm.
“How the hell did you know that language?” said Ivy. “All records in this realm were destroyed.”
“Knowledge can be relearned and recovered,” she said. “But I think you know I have allies in dangerous places. And now the source of immortality rests with me alone.”
She was truly immortal now. Had even the Sidhe started out the way they were? Or were their own bodies artificial creations of the blood of their predecessors?
Think, Ilsa. I twitched my hand, remembering I still held the book. The symbol on the cover had gone, and from what I could see of the edges of the pages, they were entirely blank.
The Winter Gatekeeper’s Sidhe form raised a hand, deflecting Ivy’s sword.
“You don’t think you’re the first posturing immortal I’ve had to kill, do you?” Ivy said. “You’re nothing.”
The Winter Gatekeeper’s hands glowed, forming a blazing current of Winter magic, and threw it at Ivy. Ice shattered the walls, striking the falling debris, burying Ivy beneath it. Hazel and Morgan shouted in alarm, and River grabbed my arm. I moved my body to shield him, and the magic ricocheted off the Lynn shield—but not Ivy.
She lay limply on the floor, blood pooling around her. I gasped and moved forwards, but she lifted her head a little.
“The faerie killer is down,” said the Winter Gatekeeper, turning on me. “And the Gatekeeper’s power is bound.”
And we can’t banish her. Because she no longer had a soul in the sense that humans did. She’d entirely merged with her new Sidhe body. The only way to kill her was to take away the source of her immortality. But there was one type of magic she wasn’t immune to.
Necromantic magic swirled from my hands, merging with Morgan’s and River’s, and slammed into
her. She hit the remaining piece of wall, which collapsed. Icy shards rose from the ruins, but bounced harmlessly off our shield.
Her mouth twisted with hate. “I’m no longer bound by the agreement not to harm you.”
Her magic… her magic had been reset. That’s all a vow truly was—a binding of magic more than words. She could harm us. We could do likewise. But our magic-proof shield would hold. It had to—
A sword flew through the air. River fell back, bleeding, but his aim was true, piercing Candice Lynn through the chest. She screamed in fury, blood spilling down the front of her newly glamoured clothes.
“How’s that for lifeblood?” shouted Morgan. “You’re weakened by iron now, too. Bet you never thought of that.”
Ice spread from her hands, flowing across the floor and up my legs. Hazel and Morgan, too, and River. Like the transforming spell in the faerie realm, there were some kinds of magic that could bypass our shields, and this was one of them. My legs locked together, instincts screaming at me to run before whatever had stopped the guild from collapsing wore off. It was too quiet outside. What in hell had happened to the council?
Ivy rose shakily to her feet. A spear of ice sent her down again. She has healing powers… but they must have a limit. And a newly reborn Sidhe had enough power to bring down an army.
The Winter Gatekeeper advanced on me. “I must ask you to hand over that book, Ilsa,” she said.
“You know I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to,” I said. Not that it mattered, in theory. Arden’s death had left it blank. I’d never be able to read it now.
“Your allies won’t come to help you,” said the Winter Gatekeeper. “You’re alone. If you give me the book, I’ll spare this city. I’ve no intention of starting a war. Our role is for peace, after all.”
“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” said Hazel. “You tried to incite a war with the Sidhe when you were a ghost. Now you’re one of them. Do you think they’ll welcome you to their Court with open arms?”
“I spent my life studying the Sidhe. Some have already agreed to join me. We really do need new blood in the Courts. So many half-faeries and fallen Sidhe are waiting for their new bodies…”
No. It can’t end like this.
The book began to glow again. Her words couldn’t bind it indefinitely. She might be Sidhe, might have killed Arden, but the book’s magic would always outrank hers.
She raised a hand, and the house’s ceiling fractured. Water slid over the ceiling at impossible angles, hardening to sharp ice. There was nowhere to run. If she brought it crashing down on us, we’d be crushed under several floors of debris. Not even Ivy or River could heal from that.
Panic gripped my chest. My gaze fell on Arden’s lifeless body lying beside the still-glowing candles, an empty summoning circle.
The ceiling cracked. A piece of ice came down, landing inches from my foot. The Winter Gatekeeper held out a hand.
“Give me the book.”
I pushed the last of my magic at the candles. They flew outwards, striking the corners of the room, and I shouted the words of binding.
River caught on and joined me, Morgan chiming in a second later. She hadn’t bound us not to use necromancy, and we’d turned the room into a magic-proofed circle. The building wouldn’t collapse on us… but we’d also trapped the Winter Gatekeeper inside the circle with us.
Fury suffused her features. “You dare resort to human tricks?”
“Human tricks?” I said. “You’re talking like a Sidhe already.”
My hands glowed, and I hit her with necromantic power, pushing her against the circle’s edge. If I got her outside, she’d be crushed by her own magic.
“I command you to open the book,” she said. One word came from her mouth, and the book ignited.
She’d read the word from the cover, activating its power. The book’s magic filled the circle, and the shape of the gates appeared, ready to drag us all in. Death tugged at my body, and at the others, too. Everyone except her. Mortal death held no threat to her. She stood calmly, while the others, even Ivy, began to drift towards the gates…
No. Please no.
My body glowed all over. I felt the gate close in, and knew it would pull me in, not her. Because she was immune. And if she took the book, if she won that power over… she’d be the Gatekeeper and Sidhe. I couldn’t let her do it.
“Sorry,” I said. “I can’t let you do that. You won’t get your wish.”
I stepped out of my body, concentrating all my will on the book, on pulling it with me into Death the way Ivy carried her sword through the void.
Her eyes widened in disbelief as my body fell to its knees, the book no longer in its hands.
I lunged at her hand, and grabbed the book of lifeblood.
It came with me into death, an item made of both living and dead realms. The momentum sent me flying to the very edge of the gates. The place where if I went beyond, there would be no returning.
I focused on the book, at pulling the gates closed, but my spirit was already being pulled into the void. The Winter Gatekeeper screamed in fury as the gate swallowed me up.
23
I floated away. The book of lifeblood came with me. A newly forged talisman. Already, the gods’ blood seeped through the pages, rotting away. It wasn’t meant to be contained in an object like this. The cauldron had apparently been an exception.
She’d never meant to pass on the power. Only hoard it for herself.
I let the book go, and it floated into the empty void.
Without the lifeblood, she wouldn’t be reborn if one of the others killed her. I had to hope they’d have the chance before the circle ran out of power. I’d taken away her shot at immortality, and she’d be out to take as many people down with her as possible.
River’s pained expression floated before my eyes. Silent, dry tears fell down my cheeks. The world beyond the gate didn’t look like much of anything at all. But I’d gone too far now. My body would be dead, but like a necromancer Guardian, I’d endure. The book… the book would do what it needed to, and that was it.
Hazel and Morgan.
Mum.
River.
Oh, god. I’m sorry.
At least Ivy would be able to visit me…
“What’s supposed to be here?” I asked of thin air. “This is Beyond?”
“Not even Guardians get to see that,” said a voice. Frank the necromancer appeared from the gloom. I felt stupidly relieved considering I didn’t even know the guy. It was just nice to see a familiar face for a second.
“What a let-down.” I scrubbed my eyes, but no traces of tears remained. “You knew I was Guardian material when you saw me, right?”
“I assumed you’d have longer in the realm of the living before you moved on,” he said.
Pain gripped my heart. “So I’m dead. For real.”
“Most would be. As for that book of yours… it remains to be seen.”
“Yeah, but now you have to tell me all your secrets. You know the Vale. You knew… did you know about the Gatekeeper’s curse?”
He floated on the spot against a backdrop of nothingness. “Only superficially. My predecessor knew more than I do.”
“Wait, there’s a Guardian older than you are?”
“He chose to move on.”
I blinked. “I didn’t know there was a term limit.”
“Do you really want to spend an eternity existing here? Would you answer the question the same way in ten years?”
“I’ve been dead five minutes. Give me some time to get used to it before asking me difficult existential questions,” I said. “Can I get into Faerie from here?”
“Not directly.”
“The Vale,” I said. “The enemy is in the Vale. One of them.”
I’d left the others to face the Winter Gatekeeper alone. She was outnumbered, but she was also pure Sidhe.
She’s vulnerable to iron, and she’s not used to being one of them. The others would th
ink of a plan. Someone had to. Because my job was only to hold the book.
The book, whose owner was dead.
Wait.
“Can you find an individual person?” I asked him.
“No. Not here. Most move on…”
Right. Of course. For a god who’d endured for generations, it had probably been a relief in some ways. The book remained blank when I looked at it. Arden was gone.
I hoped I hadn’t died for nothing. If the Winter Gatekeeper broke the circle and declared herself Queen of the mortal realm…
I’ll warn the Sidhe first. It was all up to me.
I floated back towards the gates. Almost immediately, the ground turned into the path to the Vale. The Ley Line… The territory blurred, and I found myself near the borderlands. There was a path here which led to Winter, and I floated through. Nobody accosted me. Probably, they couldn’t even see me. But I could see them. And I could see dozens of half-faerie ghosts, floating on the brink.
“She’s not coming,” I told them. “Whoever told you that you would get to live again, they lied. You’re stuck here forever. With me.”
“You’re supposed to die,” said one of them. “We’re supposed to sacrifice ourselves to kill you.”
“And you think you’ll be reborn after that?” I said. “They lied. You can see it. You must be able to.”
Life and death were two sides of the same coin. Their magic might look different, but it was as much a glamour as this entire realm. Beneath, the empty darkness waited, called by my book’s power.
Hereditary Power Page 20
