“Is this a classroom?” I asked.
A pause. Lloyd said, “Technically.”
“So you don’t actually have an interrogation room.”
“We don’t typically arrest people,” said Jas. “Most rogues we run into are too far gone to help.”
I read between the lines. “You mean, you kill them.”
“Generally they’ve caused enough damage to justify self-defence, yes,” she said. “So you’re a necromancer.”
“I guess I am.”
“You’re not with the guild,” said Lloyd.
“No, I’m not,” I said. “I’m independent. I’m a PhD student.” Independent necromancers were usually troublemakers who summoned undead for fun, but how else was I supposed to explain my abilities?
“That’s not how we do things here,” he said. “Particularly skill of that level. Where’d you learn to do that?”
“At home, in Foxwood. It’s a village in the Highlands.”
“You’re part of their guild?” asked Jas.
“No. I only came into my powers recently, and as I said, I’m a student—”
“You’re to speak with our leader, Lady Montgomery.”
My brows shot up. Lady? She must be a hell of a lot more important than old Greaves had been. “I will if you promise not to lock me up. I didn’t hurt anyone. If anything, I stopped that undead from attacking people.”
“There’s a procedure,” said Lloyd. “If it turns out you’ve committed no crimes, you’ll have to register.”
“Since when? I thought necromancers were allowed to be independent.” River didn’t belong to the guild—at least, I didn’t think he did. Then again, he was half-faerie, so the Sidhe had more of a claim on him than the necromancers did. But who knew how things worked around here? I didn’t want to spend the next week in a cell, but fighting back would put me at the mercy of several hundred highly trained necromancers. Goddamn you, I thought at the book. Rare and dangerous talisman or not, if the damn thing got me arrested, I’d throw it into the river.
“In a city of the dead, we find it best to take precautions,” said a severe female voice from behind me.
I turned around, my heart sinking. A woman with steel-grey hair to match her voice entered silently. She was taller than me—and I wasn’t exactly short at five foot nine—and her black coat was embossed with several badges and silver cuffs.
“I am Lady Montgomery, leader of the city’s necromancers,” she said. “Name?”
“Ilsa.”
“Full name.”
That’s what I got for not using an alias. “Ilsa Lynn.”
“Lynn. The Gatekeeper?”
“That’s my sister. We have necromancer ancestry and it apparently skipped a few generations. I only discovered the ability recently.” Best to tell as much of the truth as possible. It’d be easier that way.
“I see. Have you ever used necromancy before today?”
“Yes.” I spoke in the sort of tone Mum used when dealing with nosy clients. It usually meant that’s all the information you’re getting, unless you’d like to spend the next month as a tree.
She didn’t press further, to my surprise. “Have you ever raised the dead?”
I shook my head. “I’ve only banished things.”
“I see,” she said again. “If you’re really a necromancer, then you won’t object to me putting you through a few tests.”
“I guess not. Look, I don’t see why—”
“You need to learn how things work here. No common necromancer could have banished the force possessing that undead, which either means you possess high level power you can’t control, or you’re lying about the extent of your knowledge.”
Damn. She knew about the wraith, if not its name. But how could I explain anything without the book’s cooperation?
She slammed a stack of papers down on the desk. “Fill out these. Then I’ll assess you verbally. Then we’ll run some controlled tests. Watch her, both of you.”
In one sweep, she was out of the room. She’d had maybe ten minutes’ warning that I was coming and she’d managed to devise a whole testing process. I looked down at the papers. It resembled a job application, with sections on my own pertinent details as well as the basics of necromancy. Seemed straightforward enough—I could have answered most of it without the need for the book, since my sister and I had had a thorough education in all things supernatural. I looked at the door. The other two moved to cover the way out. Damn. Causing a public disturbance wasn’t my thing, so I took a seat at the table, picked up the pen she’d left with the papers, and got to work. The two necromancers raised their eyebrows when I put the pen down.
“You seriously finished that fast?” asked Jas.
“You’re welcome to check.” There was no point in hiding that I’d been educated by the Summer Gatekeeper herself—hell, it worked as an ironclad cover for the real source of my knowledge. If they hadn’t met Mum in person, the necromancers knew her by reputation. Every major supernatural in Scotland did. There was no point in playing stupid, and I had the suspicion that Lady Montgomery would see through any deception.
Jas took the papers and skimmed through. “Wow. She really did. Haven’t seen anyone fill out a paper that fast since Lady Montgomery’s son.”
I leaned back in my chair. “She has a son? She doesn’t look like the motherly type.”
“I thought the same,” she said, putting the papers back into order.
“I heard he resurrected a T-Rex once,” said Lloyd.
“Don’t talk crap, Lloyd. You can’t reanimate something that’s been dead that long.”
“Can’t you?” I said. “I always wondered about that.”
“See, there is something she doesn’t know,” Lloyd said in a self-satisfied manner. “Good. I can’t be outclassed by a rogue we ran into wrestling an undead on the streets, right, Jas?”
“How’d you kill that thing anyway?” asked Jas.
I shrugged. “Got lucky.”
“Lady Montgomery will question you,” he said. “Surprised she hasn’t already. They say she has a magical lie detector…”
Jas rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t.”
“Along with the interrogation room, right?” I said wryly. It might not be a good idea to poke the necromancers, but I slotted these two into the category of ‘harmless’ and the grey-haired leader into the same category I put Mum in. The ‘do not mess with this person unless you want to get turned into a tree’ category. Or whatever the necromancer equivalent was.
Jas’s lips quirked in a smile. “I hope we don’t have to lock you up. I think you’re going to give Lady Montgomery a run for her money.”
“You do have a jail?” I checked my last paragraph and laid the paper aside. “Or do I get buried alive?”
“In an iron coffin,” Lloyd said. “Nah, there’s an underground dungeon we use occasionally… you’re handling this weirdly calmly, by the way. No wonder she’s suspicious.”
“Yeah, do you have other necromancers in the family?” asked Jas.
“Kind of,” I said. “My family’s involved in all things supernatural. It’s sort of complicated.”
“You’re a hybrid?” she asked, with an expression of great interest. “Witch? Or… no, you’re not hairy enough to be a wolf shifter.”
I snorted. “Nope. Heard the name ‘Lynn’?”
“Are you quite done gossiping?” said Lady Montgomery, walking into the room and picking up the papers. Her keen eyes scanned them, then she tossed them into the nearest bin.
My mouth fell open. “What was the point in all that?”
“To see what you were capable of.”
“So I get to skip the verbal interrogation?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Certainly not. Tell me what’s easier—banishing an undead or a spirit.”
“Banishing undead is easier,” I said. “Because the spirit isn’t there. When the body is destroyed, that’s it. Spirits are more stubborn—they usu
ally stick around for a reason—but they can’t cause any physical harm. Except poltergeists, who can use kinetic energy to affect the physical world.”
She ran through a few more basic questions, while Jas and Lloyd looked on with fascinated expressions.
“You’ve had a thorough education. Who trained you?”
“Nobody did. I’m an academic,” I said. “I also had an education in all the supernatural types before I knew I was magical. I’ve been living here for over five years. My records—”
“Will be searched, of course,” she said. “So you could answer the same level of questions about witches, or mages?”
“Yeah, I could.” I wouldn’t normally flaunt my knowledge—where I came from, it was hardly notable at all, and the Sidhe didn’t care. “I guess I’m part necromancer, but they don’t do DNA tests for these things.”
“And you can’t use any other type of magic?”
“No, I can’t. I’m not—our family’s tied to Faerie, but I don’t have faerie blood.”
“Good. Faeries often find it difficult to use our tools when they’re sensitive to the presence of iron.”
“Wait, there are faerie-necromancers here?” Might one of those be summoning the wraiths? I’d got the impression the two Holly had hired hadn’t been alone, but the village was miles away from here. Then again, she could use the Ley Line to travel anywhere she liked.
Instead of answering, Lady Montgomery said, “Now we’ll move onto the practical component.”
Ah. Crap. I could explain away my knowledge, but I’d have to be careful what I let them see if I wanted to avoid further interrogation. Not to mention if any of them looked directly at me in the spirit realm, they’d see my spirit mark blaring like a beacon on my forehead. Even if it was likely none of them actually knew what it meant.
She beckoned to me to follow her down the corridor, leaving the others behind. The other necromancers we ran into stepped sharply out of the way as she passed by. Lady Montgomery inspired respect and terror in equal measure, apparently. I couldn’t believe I’d never heard of her before today. Then again, it wasn’t like I’d hung out with a ton of supernaturals while I’d been studying at the university. Every time I thought of making a break for it, she was at my side. I’d lost track of the way out several corridors back, so I kept walking.
She stopped in a corridor filled with closed metal doors and opened one of them. A cold breeze swept out, but the pitch black room didn’t appear to have any windows. Not that I could see much, light switches included. She looked expectantly at me.
“I have to go in there alone?”
“You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”
“No.” More like afraid of what might be lurking in there. My mind conjured up images of wraiths and dark fae, but the iron door was something of a reassurance. Warily, I stepped forwards, hoping I didn’t trip over in the darkness. The floor was cold, stone, maybe, and lights came on after a few steps. Twelve lights. The necromancers’ electric candles, arranged in a circle.
A summoning circle.
“What do I have to do?” My voice echoed back at me.
“Use your spirit sight.”
Okay… I blinked, and grey filtered over my vision. And then I jumped, my heart leaping into my throat.
A man appeared inches from my face, so close I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen him in the waking world. He screamed in my ear, shoving at me with outstretched hands. Coldness filled my bones and I stumbled backwards, catching myself before I tripped over. They wouldn’t. Not here. I’d been ripped out of my body before and I had no desire to repeat the performance. What was I supposed to do—bind the spirit into the circle?
I sidestepped as the man hit out at me, relieved when his hands sailed straight through me. I’d had the impression yanking people out of their bodies was not an entry-level skill. Neither was binding, considering you needed to learn the necromancers’ language to do it. She wouldn’t expect me to know it, so he must be low-level enough for me to persuade to get into the circle without the need for a strong binding.
Breath. He might have scared the shit out of me, but if I’d been trapped in a room as a ghost and forced to terrify new recruits to see what they were made of, I’d be a little annoyed, too.
“This’ll go easier if you get in the circle,” I told him. “Just get in. It’s right there.”
The ghost stuck his hands in my chest. I stumbled, fetching up at the circle’s edge. “Hey! Stop that.”
He whirled around, screaming loud enough that surely people would come running—but the door had closed, and even Lady Montgomery had gone.
“Hey—you can’t shut me in the dark.” Even the luminous candles provided no light outside the circle.
Fine. If persuading him didn’t work, then tricking him was the next available option.
I stepped back in the direction of the candles. “Come on, then,” I taunted. “Show me what you’re made of.”
The ghost flew directly at me, hands outstretched, but avoided the circle by a hair’s breadth. I swore quietly. He knew it was there. He’d probably done the same test a thousand times.
I stepped over the candle, carefully, drawing the ghost in that direction. He lunged and again, he avoided the circle. I kept walking backwards, knowing it was a bad idea. I wasn’t coordinated enough to pull this off even if it hadn’t been pitch black in here. I couldn’t even see the walls. Just the circle.
The spirit let out a bone-rattling roar that raised the small hairs on the back of my neck, and dived at me. I willed myself to keep still, not unlike what I did whenever a small faerie threw magic at me, but the blast of icy air stirred the candles. I stepped backwards, and the spirit plunged through my chest, at the circle. The candle wobbled. Poltergeist. Crap. I lunged for it, and the spirit dived through my back.
The candle went out.
“Hey!” I tripped over my own feet, cursing the dark room. I felt the book’s presence, its magic creeping up my hands, but damn, I’d sworn not to cheat. Wasn’t setting a poltergeist on me with no warning technically cheating anyway, though? I can’t believe I let myself get talked into this.
I gripped the candle, feeling for the switch. It lit up again, and the ghost appeared, laughing. The light connecting the candles had shifted when the ghost had unleashed its spiritual attack on the circle—right in front of me. I stepped forwards and fetched up against the circle’s edge.
“Really funny,” I said through chattering teeth. “Do you cheat against all your opponents or did I just get lucky?”
At this point, I was ninety percent sure this was an advanced test not used on all novices. Most people would have curled up whimpering in the corner by now. My feet were numb, and I now the bastard had trapped me in the circle. Great one there, Ilsa. At least I’d unintentionally cemented my reputation as a clueless newbie who’d wandered into this by accident.
The lights looked brighter from this angle, showing me the room’s boundaries, and the ghost floating around. I halted, watching carefully. Now the lights were closer, it was clear to see that for all its flailing around, the ghost seemed to be stuck on a certain pattern. It couldn’t diverge from its route. And every third sweep of the room brought it right up to the circle’s edge.
I kept still, waiting. Then when the ghost swooped around the edge, I tapped the candle’s switch with the toe of my boot and jumped through the ghost, throwing in the tiniest bit of kinetic power.
The ghost shrieked, unbalanced, floating over the candle. Swiftly, I dropped to the floor, switching on the candle again. Lights converged, trapping the screaming ghost in a circle of whiteness.
Thank god for that. Breathing heavily, I stepped in the direction of the door. “Can you let me out now?”
Silence followed. She hadn’t locked me in here, had she?
Coldness gripped me, and my body left the ground. I let out a startled cry, looking down at my body standing there as my spirit—the very essence of me—drifted
into the air, pulled by an invisible force. Pain tore through my very being, my body frozen, helpless. It’s not the ghost! The creature couldn’t move.
The door flew open behind me and Lady Montgomery stalked in. “What manner of necromancer are you?”
“Hey” I gasped. “Stop that. Ow.”
“Stop,” said a quiet, commanding voice. One I’d never expected to hear in the necromancers’ headquarters.
River.
3
Lady Montgomery turned on him with a frown. “I’m in the middle of an interrogation, River.”
“Looks more like torture to me,” he said, his voice rough and furious. “Put her down. She’s no threat to us.”
“And you’d know?”
“I would,” he said. “Ilsa isn’t a rogue necromancer. She’s untrained, but a natural.”
“You’ve met?”
“She saved my life.”
I’d have stared at him in surprise if I could move. A moment later, the spell broke and I crashed back into my body with such force that I dropped to the stone floor, wincing as it scraped my knees. Shivering, I climbed to my feet, and Lady Montgomery gave me a look that made me want to jump into the circle again.
“You passed the test,” she said, “but your power is off the charts for a new necromancer. You’re a liability to leave untrained. I’ll assign someone to you immediately.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but River stepped in first. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take charge of her training myself.”
She gave him a disapproving look. “Son, as an inactive member of the guild, you’re not qualified to train anyone.”
“My qualifications didn’t go anywhere while I was away,” he said, while I gaped at both of them. “But if you have a better candidate with enough free time, given the state of things, then I’d be glad to give up the position.”
What? She was River’s mother? He’d said he had necromancer relatives who lived here in Edinburgh. Not that his mother was leader of the guild. And it was plain to see where his stubbornness had come from. But he’d taken after his faerie parent in his appearance, apparently, because she was severe-looking with steel-grey hair, while he had light blond hair cut short for a half-faerie, pointed ears, and bright green eyes. He must have come here from the Court—but how had he known I’d be here?
Hereditary Curse (The Gatekeeper's Curse Book 2) Page 2
