Hereditary Curse (The Gatekeeper's Curse Book 2)

by Emma L. Adams

“I won’t. I—I’m sorry.” He sounded like he meant it, too. “I really fucked this one up.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. That thing would have got to us no matter what. If not through you, then Hazel or me, or even River.”

  He’s probably in jail now. Because of me. I thought of all that iron and tasted bile in my throat. How could I help both River and Hazel at once?

  “Also, watch out,” I added. “You’ll be invisible, but not like a ghost. People can still walk into you, and you’ll only be unseen in direct shadow. Got it?”

  Morgan nodded, taking the spell from me. The last I saw of him was his shocked expression as I snapped on the disguise charm. “Am I Agnes?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Damn, she’s scary.”

  “Too right I am. Get in the shadows, look for clues. Got it?”

  “Sure.”

  I marched into the market. People ran to either side to get out of my way, a marked contrast to walking around as Ilsa even while wearing my necromancer coat. At least half the local supernaturals knew Agnes, apparently. I strode right up to Corwin and bared my teeth.

  “Agnes.” He swallowed, his gaze darting about. “I thought you’d gone.”

  “You thought wrong.” I loomed over the stall. “Not doing anything illegal, are you?”

  “I—no. Please don’t hurt me.”

  Guilty conscience, huh.

  “I don’t need to hurt you to remove your memories, boy,” I said softly. “Your master won’t like that, would he?”

  He paled so rapidly, I thought he’d pass out on the spot. “No. I’ll tell you everything.”

  I stepped in close. “I’m listening. What did he tell you to do?”

  “He? She told me—she ordered me to put a spell on the house that would drug the Lynns. It wasn’t hard, honestly. The girl, Hazel, was already on her way to visit.”

  She. The person running the show was female. A Sidhe? Surely not…

  “Tell me. Now.”

  “The worst part was taking the book,” he said quickly. “Because it’s cursed. Nobody can touch it. Took weeks to figure out how to do it. In the end we drugged the sister and got her to pick it up. Then we took her.”

  No. Not Hazel. She must be alive somewhere, in this realm. Otherwise, there would be no Summer Gatekeeper.

  “How did you get past her family’s magic?” I growled in Agnes’s voice.

  “That was almost as tough as the book. I’m glad I wasn’t involved with that part.” He shuddered. “They used my spells, because witch charms still affect her when faerie magic doesn’t. They’re taking their brother next, I think. I offered to bring him in, but that creepy little fae monster wants revenge on him for stabbing it the first time.”

  The fetch. Holy shit. If they planned to go after Morgan, either the guild was their target, or the house.

  Lady Montgomery was already working on the guild’s defences, and if they planned to attack directly through the spirit world, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do without the book. But if Hazel was in Death—or the Vale—the book must either be with her, or with the person who’d stolen it. Either way, this guy was useless. His part in this was over.

  He screamed suddenly, blood spurting from his neck.

  “Too bad they already got me,” my brother rasped from behind him. “And it’s a pity you can’t see ghosts, tough guy.”

  “Bloody hell,” whimpered Corwin. “You stabbed me.”

  “Should have done that the moment I saw you,” he growled. “The thing is, I’m too angry to move on, and I’m the most powerful necromancer in Death. I’m gonna haunt you to the end of your days.” Morgan had apparently been hoarding weapons. I bloody hoped he had a plan, short of terrorising the guy.

  “I’ve told her everything I have,” Corwin sobbed.

  “Not me,” said Morgan. “Where the hell is Hazel?”

  “I don’t know. I swear—”

  “Where’s that fucking fetch?”

  “I told you, I don’t know. They needed me for my spells, nothing more.”

  “The strength enhancers? How many others?”

  “A few. They’re hard to make, the ingredients are rare.”

  “You gave them to the perpetrator in person?” I asked. “Who did you sell them to?”

  I’d worked out enough to know the person behind this was either dead, or a fae creature not part of the waking world. That’s why they had half-faeries acting on their behalf.

  “Couple of half-bloods.”

  “Names?” I snapped.

  “I dunno.” He yelped, presumably as Morgan jabbed him from behind. “Okay. Um. One was called Rye Granger and the other… Lily Thorn.”

  Might be aliases, but it’s a start.

  “Thank you for your assistance,” I growled. “If it turns out you’ve supplied me with false information, I’ll have to pay another visit. Good luck dealing with your ghost, Corwin.”

  “How do you know my name?” he whimpered. “Don’t steal my memories. Please. God, go away.” He moaned, sinking behind the stall. I marched off, hoping Morgan got the message and followed me.

  We had the names. With a name, you could summon its owner. We didn’t have a lot of options, but we weren’t out of the fight yet.

  19

  I switched off the disguise charm once I reached the bridge over the disused railway, which was covered in shattered glass and overgrown with plants from the battle of the invasion. I’d heard underneath the bridge was a haven for dark fae, but tourists seemed content to cross it in cars or on foot as though the world had never changed at all. Life went on, even as we waged an invisible war. I repeated the faeries’ names in my head, and waited for Morgan to catch up. He wasn’t experienced in using shadow spells so I spotted the outline of a person following me, almost hidden under the dull grey sky.

  “Morgan, switch the spell off. You might need it later.”

  “Got a plan?” He appeared at my side, still clutching the knife he’d stabbed Corwin with.

  “Yes. For a start, stop waving bloody knives around. I thought you were going to kill him.”

  He shook his head, pocketing the knife. “Just wanted to scare him. I don’t appreciate what he did to screw up my memories.”

  “Yeah, I see that. I’m going to find a safe place to summon those half-faeries, if they’re dead. I think it has to be the house. The fetch already knows where it is, and it’s not like there’s anyone at home.”

  Ten minutes later, we had the candles set up in the living room. I snapped my fingers and the lights came on, filling the room with pale necromantic lights.

  Reciting the summoning words, I finished with, “I summon you, Rye Granger and Lily Thorn.”

  No response came from the circle, though the candles remained glowing.

  “They must be alive,” Morgan said. “Can’t summon the living.”

  “Dammit.” I looked at him. “Normally I’d try to find them in the spirit world, but—”

  “I can do it.” He stepped into the circle himself, holding his arm out so I could remove the iron band.

  “Be careful,” I said.

  He stood staring into space for a moment. Then his gaze blanked out. The candle lights flickered. I braced myself ready to slam the iron back onto him. Seconds stretched into minutes. Images of what might be happening to Hazel, to River, flashed before my eyes. I clenched my fists on the iron. We need clues before we go charging off. As for River, he could handle himself. His mother wouldn’t kick him out the guild and if she did, he was resourceful enough to survive in Faerie, let alone here. Hazel had to be our priority.

  The candles flashed. Then Morgan’s spirit appeared floating above his body, his arms locked around the neck of a smaller figure. “Stay put, you little bastard.”

  I snapped the binding words, and the ghost stilled. I felt a brief flash of triumph that I’d managed to get the spell to work without the book. Then he turned on me.

  “Hey,” I said to the ghost, who was presumab
ly Rye Granger. “You’re stuck here until you tell us who you handed the witch spells you bought at the market to.”

  “Who the hell are you?” he asked, staring up at Morgan.

  “I’m the angel of death,” Morgan told him.

  “You’re the Gatekeeper,” said the faerie, turning on me.

  “Who told you that?”

  “He did. The one who brought me here.” The faerie shuddered. “You can’t hurt me here.”

  “I can hurt you,” Morgan added. “Believe me.”

  The faerie scooted over to the opposite side of the circle, yelping when he touched the candle’s burning lights. “I just bought the spells. I’m not strong enough to handle the rest. And it’s too late. I’m not allowed back to Faerie.” He whimpered as Morgan kicked him, hard. Being a ghost didn’t stop him from feeling pain.

  “So that’s what they promised?” I said. “You gave the spells to someone. Who?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t—I can’t.”

  “You’re bound up in a vow. You know they stop working when you die, right?”

  “Not this one,” he whispered. “I’m dead. They tore me out of my body, and I can’t even move on.”

  “What?” I said. “Seriously?” Then—he might not even know Hazel had been kidnapped, considering the lack of information the fetch’s master’s followers seemed to be given.

  “Did the fetch do that?”

  He nodded. “To cover our tracks. I’m trapped here.”

  “I can help you,” I said. “If you tell us what you know. They took my sister. They locked us out so we can’t even reach her in Death. Can you give us a hint about where?”

  “There’s a graveyard, one nobody else can see unless they have the Sight. It’s near Calton Hill. Take those candles. It’s all I can tell you.”

  “Why should we trust you?” demanded Morgan.

  Yeah, he might be lying. But it was clear the fetch knew how to make a vow last beyond death, and we likely wouldn’t be able to pry any more information out of him. Hazel, if she was stuck in Death, was running out of time.

  “I’ll banish you. Morgan, come on.”

  He shot the ghost a look, then he stepped out of the circle and I spoke the banishing words. The ghost vanished, though the gates didn’t appear. I’d reverted back to a normal necromancer skill-wise. Which might not be enough to win this.

  Morgan hovered outside the circle. It was weird seeing him floating there while his body lay in the circle, inert. “I’m gonna try and find Hazel again.”

  “You sure?”

  He nodded. “I can’t figure out where she is. But maybe if I hit the barrier hard enough, I can break it open.”

  “I’ll be on standby.” I held up the iron.

  Morgan stepped into the circle again and disappeared. His body jerked on the floor, then he yelled expletives to the ceiling.

  “Ow.” He lifted his head. “Bloody thing’s tougher than before.”

  “Did you at least figure out which direction it’s in?”

  “Way off. Over by the Firth of Forth. Maybe it’s in the sea.”

  “Not helpful,” I said. “Time to go visit this grave, I guess.”

  There were no other options remaining. Worry for Hazel beat in my skull, but if they’d locked her in a spirit barrier, we’d need to find its limits before anything else. The graveyard was in the right direction, which strongly suggested we were running into another trap. But surely the enemy must know that the book had chosen me, claimed me, and wouldn’t serve anyone who didn’t belong to the Lynn family. If I got within reach of it, the talisman’s power would be mine once again.

  The ghost, it turned out, was right about the graveyard. Once we’d taken the fastest route I could find, the spires of an old church came into view. A shimmering around its edges told me that most humans would see nothing more than a ruin when they looked at it. The churchyard was small… and a ghost floated in the centre.

  Trap? I’d say so. My spirit sight showed me nobody close by, living or dead. The spirit was younger than I’d thought, and female, with thick curly dark hair.

  “I’m not picking up on anything,” Morgan said quietly.

  I took a deep breath and opened the small iron gate into the churchyard. “Hey,” I said to the ghost.”

  Her gaze snapped to my forehead. “Oh. You’re different to the usual ones.”

  She knows what the mark is. “Yeah, I am. I don’t want to make threats, but someone I care very much about is being held hostage. So I need to know if you’ve seen anything unusual. Like the fetch, for instance.”

  “You came to ask a ghost about death omens?” She sounded highly amused.

  “What, you’ve met it?” I asked. Her clothes were old-fashioned, from what I could tell. How long had she been here? Only necromancers could last for decades beyond death.

  “Of course it can. I was its first victim.” She laughed. “The fetch first appeared to signal the demise of an old witch over a century ago. The witch was supposedly buried nearby, but her grave was never found. And the fetch, apparently, never left.”

  “The same fetch?”

  “There’s only one.”

  “It’s killing people,” I said. “You know that? Someone is controlling it.”

  “I wouldn’t know. But if you’re marked by the fetch, you’re too late. It never leaves its victims alive.”

  “It’s not just targeting us,” I said. “It’s targeting the entire necromancer guild.”

  “Pity.” Her mouth twisted. “I knew they’d doom themselves eventually. Those who seek to control death always meet an untimely demise.”

  “You’re one of them,” I said. “You can’t have survived death any other way.”

  Her eyes flashed, her body momentarily glowing white as anger suffused her expression. “Don’t you dare compare me to them.”

  “I don’t know what issue you have with the necromancers, and to be honest, I don’t care,” I told her. “The fetch is holding my sister hostage. Did you ever have siblings?”

  “Why does it matter? I have nobody.” She sniffed. “And you show up and insult me.”

  “If you’ve been hanging around here playing the victim, I’m not surprised. I was told to consult you by someone who worked for the fetch.”

  Her eyes flashed. “They can’t leave me alone, even in death.”

  “Who killed you?” asked Morgan.

  “Why do you care?” She frowned, her gaze dropping to the iron band. “Oh, clever idea. So you’re the one who’s been marked. The fetch’s victims never escape, no matter how hard they try.”

  “I’m terrified,” Morgan said. “I already killed it once. Like I’ll kill you, if you don’t tell us where my sister is.”

  “You can’t hurt me,” the ghost said. “If you truly think the necromancers so noble, ask them about the witch they banished a century ago, the fetch’s first victim. The predecessor of the current guild leader was responsible for binding the spirit.”

  Lady Montgomery? “I know her,” I said. “But she doesn’t know what’s happening now. The fetch… why would it take hostages?”

  More to the point, why would it need the book? The talisman might be valuable, but it didn’t work without the Gatekeeper present. If they needed me to use it, they’d have kidnapped me, not Hazel. She couldn’t use it. Even Morgan couldn’t.

  “Hostages?” she echoed. “I don’t know how the mind of the creature works. And I certainly do not know why it would resurface now.”

  “You can see the spirit realm, right?” I asked. “Can you—can you tell me whereabouts the boundary is? There’s a block, in the spirit realm, but I can’t figure out its actual location.”

  She stared into space for a moment. “There is a block.” She pointed vaguely over the rooftops. “A powerful one. Whatever lies within is a dark concentration of spiritual energy which if unleashed, will consume the city and everyone inside it.”

  “What? How do you know that?�
��

  “Because I’ve felt it before. When the faeries came.”

  My heart plummeted. It’s the Vale. Two of us weren’t enough to make an army, least of all against that place.

  “I’m tethered here,” she said. “I can’t leave. You can thank the necromancers for that one, too. If you want to know the truth, ask them about the witch.”

  Shit. I didn’t want to go back into the guild, but River was held captive there, and his own mother’s family had apparently been involved with binding this witch. Maybe there was a link. Heaven knew I had no other clues to work with. Not to mention the guild needed to know there was a Vale army waiting to strike. Jas, Lloyd… there were a lot of innocent people in that building, to say nothing of all the humans, supernatural and non-supernatural alike, outside of it.

  We still don’t know who is pulling the strings. The ghost? Surely not. She barely registered on my spirit sense, and the fetch was weak, too. Someone much more powerful had set the Vale against us. I doubted the ghost would give me answers, but it begged the question of why the faerie ghost had sent us here.

  And if the guild had really been involved with the fetch in the past… presumably they’d managed to stop it once before. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be any psychics left in the city at all.

  I turned my back on the ghost and left the graveyard, Morgan behind me.

  “I don’t know anything about murdered witches, but she sure seemed pissed off with the necromancers,” I muttered.

  “You can’t trust her word either,” said Morgan.

  “Considering we have no other allies, I think we should at least ask the guild. How many ancient ghosts here would know what the fetch is? If the guild’s hiding something, or if they have more tips on how to deal with this, we have to check. I have one shadow spell left. I can sneak in and get River out.”

  “Not without these.” He pulled a handful of spells from his pocket. “I swiped them from Corwin. This one’s an unlocking charm.”

  “Damn. Good thinking.” I paused. “I’m not sure witch spells will be enough to get us in without being seen.”

  He grinned. “Good job I took note of the secret entrance to the dungeon, isn’t it?”