Hereditary Curse (The Gatekeeper's Curse Book 2)

by Emma L. Adams

  “It’s not the one behind this,” I said. “A small circle with no power contained inside it won’t break the Vale. Just because the knowledge is hidden doesn’t mean people don’t use it anyway. I’m Gatekeeper. That includes the Vale—I guarantee it.”

  “I’ll do it,” River said. “But you know what’s at risk.”

  “Yeah, I do. Morgan, do you still have the shadow spell? I’m trusting you not to mess this up.”

  “I won’t.”

  You know what? I actually believed him. “I’ll be waiting here. For both of you. Nobody gets left behind.”

  I’ll get Hazel back. And then I’ll make them pay.

  21

  River and Morgan returned to the dungeon within ten minutes, the latter turning visible again as soon as he saw me.

  “I got it,” whispered Morgan, showing me an old book with yellowed pages. “I won’t look at all of it, I swear, just what we need to know.”

  “Good,” I said. “Let’s move.”

  We left the guild, slipping out the side alley onto the main road. This place had survived the invasion. Surely it could survive this new threat… but the rest of the city was another story entirely.

  We have no choice. The enemy has the upper hand, and unless we use the same tactics against them, we’ll lose this.

  I picked the house as the best spot to do the summoning, and trod the now familiar route back to the row of terraced houses. River followed behind, not speaking, gripping his blade tightly. Breaking the necromancer’s law wouldn’t get him arrested like it would in Faerie, but the potential consequences might be catastrophic if I messed this up. He was putting an awful lot of faith in me—and in Morgan.

  “Morgan,” I said, walking into the living room. “Give me the book. I need to look up a basic summoning.”

  “I know how to do that,” said Morgan. “Blood. I got cut on the knife before, that’s how they got me last time. One drop of blood, and then say the usual summoning words.”

  “That’s all?” It seemed too easy, but ‘dark magic’ was just a name. The circle of candles River set up was the same as a regular necromancer summoning circle, and the swirling grey within was no different to the usual. My nerves spiked. “Blood,” I said. “Any volunteers?”

  “Corwin,” said Morgan, pulling the knife from his pocket and throwing it into the circle, which was already swirling with mist, the lights glowing.

  I spoke the summoning words, then, I summon the fetch.

  Grey swirled within the circle. First, like before, it swirled with death energy, the candles burning bright. I swallowed, my hands clenched with nerves. If I misjudged this and summoned, say, a hellhound instead…

  A dog-like shape appeared, emitting a furious yowl.

  “Nice to see you again,” I said. “I bind you.” The binding words left my tongue, and the fetch yowled, crashing against the circle’s side.

  “You—what have you done?” hissed the creature. “You can’t kill me.”

  River’s sword skewered him through the middle. He screeched, and Morgan gritted his teeth, but as blood soaked the circle, I shouted the banishing words. The instant he winked out of existence, I snatched the candle away before the blood drew anything else into the circle.

  “Not bad for a first attempt at blood magic,” said Morgan.

  “No more,” River snapped, breathing heavily. “It won’t stay dead forever.”

  “Obviously,” said Morgan. “But we gave those other psychics a shot at making it to the guild before it gets to them.”

  “Exactly.” I crouched to pick up the candles, passing them to River. He put them into the rucksack he’d brought, still looking displeased. “Once the psychics are safe, the fetch can’t sacrifice them. It’s been hours since the last psychic died.”

  “The enemy will have a backup plan,” said River. “What—” He broke off, staring into space. Greyness filtered through, and for a moment, I thought I’d accidentally left some residual necromantic power behind. But I hadn’t used my power at all. Grey fog filled the room.

  “Uh. Guys?” I said. “Tell me you’re still here.”

  “Someone just did a mass summoning,” came River’s faint voice from the fog. “Damn. It’s shaken up the whole spirit realm.”

  I caught Morgan’s eye through the grey mist. “Did you feel that?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve only ever sensed psychics, and I can’t do that with the iron.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” I backed towards the door. “River, did you sense where the summoning came from?”

  “I can track it.” There came a rustling noise, and he pulled out a familiar device. “Spirit sensor.”

  “Ten percent accurate.” Morgan snorted. “You’d have more luck walking blindfolded.”

  I stopped at the door, relieved that the fog wasn’t as thick outside, but a faint grey mist covered everything all the same. The spirit realm… the veil must be thinning, which meant residual energy from whatever had shaken it up would creep into this realm, raising ghosts and undead. Yet the street appeared quiet. Too quiet.

  “Let’s make for the guild,” River said in a low voice. “Before—” He stopped, drawing his blade.

  An undead lumbered towards us, bringing a foul stench on the breeze. Behind, a dark mass appeared, the air swirling.

  I stilled, swearing under my breath, as the swirling darkness resolved into a human-shaped figure. Icy air slammed into us, ripping branches off trees, rattling the windows in the nearby houses. The ground froze beneath my feet, icicles forming on nearby windows. Winter magic.

  I shouted the banishing words, and the wraith fell back, but didn’t vanish. Instead, the undead lunged forwards, his hands icing over.

  Morgan hit the exterminator. A jet of concentrated salt sent undead and wraith alike flying backwards, exploding into dust.

  “Thanks,” I gasped.

  “Is there anything you didn’t steal from the guild?” River asked.

  “Don’t answer that,” I told Morgan. “Let’s find that ghost. I knew she was behind it. Maybe that half-faerie wanted to warn us.” Or send us into a trap. It didn’t matter at this point.

  “This ghost—who is she?” River asked.

  “Your mother called her Thea Allard. Guess that was her name when she was alive,” I said. “She planned for us to fall victim to the fetch. Let’s give her a rude awakening. Or banishing.”

  “If she could be banished by conventional means, someone would surely have done so already,” said River.

  “Yeah, I know. But I can’t think of another way to find Hazel. If I had the book, I’d have full access to my powers and I’d be able to travel around until I found the hiding place.” I shook my head. “I mean, it’s some consolation to know that they had to drag half a dozen people into this scheme to get their hands on the book, but I guess even my dead relatives didn’t see this one coming. Or whoever created the talisman. This ghost, she duped even the necromancers.”

  “No, she didn’t,” River said. “She wanted to bring them down, and she failed. She can’t destroy them as they are now. Whatever deal she made with the Vale faeries was to further that goal, nothing more.”

  “You think she did make a deal?” I frowned. “That’s what I don’t get. She’s a ghost. I’m assuming she survived this long because she’s basically a necromancer Guardian without the label… but it makes no sense for her to be tethered to the graveyard. Not with the amount of people she has on her side. She must be getting more out of the deal.”

  “A binding spell must have locked her there,” River said. “That’s what I’d guess. But it can’t be undone by mortal hands, otherwise she’d already have got someone to do it.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “She makes no sense. Ghosts aren’t logical, but she has that many people involved… not to mention the book. If I die, the book would probably pass to Morgan. I mean, he’s the logical choice, because Hazel can’t be Gatekeeper twice over.”

  “
Maybe the fetch never planned to kill me,” Morgan said quietly. “He planned to possess me. And if I’d had your book…”

  I stopped dead. “I think you’re right. We have to get it back before the fetch rises again. How long do you reckon we have?”

  “Anyone’s guess,” said River. “Considering how messed up the veil is at the moment.”

  Morgan began to run. “I’ll kill the evil bitch,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Dammit.” I started walking after him. “He’s determined to make himself into a martyr.”

  “It seems a shared trait for you Lynns,” River remarked from beside me.

  “Hey, that’s not fair.” At least he didn’t seem too mad about my use of blood magic. So much for the Sacred Oath of Necromancy. “I can’t believe you let your mother lock you up in jail. You knew she planned to sneak you out, right?”

  “Of course I did,” he said calmly. “It’s best for her to give the appearance of keeping the rules.”

  “While we go and smash them into pieces,” I said. “By the way, when this is over, we’re going to have words about the adorable baby pictures of you your mother keeps in the office.”

  “She still has those?” He grinned a little. “I should come back to your house and find yours.”

  “No way.” I smiled back, despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. If I hung onto that image—of River and I being happy, of my family being reunited, I could fool myself into thinking we’d make it out of this alive.

  The ghost waited, floating above her grave, as we approached. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

  “No, I suppose you didn’t. You thought we’d be running around the guild, or locked in their jail… or maybe we’d dive into the sea to follow the rumours of where they hid your body.” I shrugged. “You’re no threat to me. You’re stuck here, aren’t you? I assume you must know what I am. I can get you out of here, if you tell me where my sister is being held hostage.”

  “You know where, Gatekeeper,” she said, with a barely restrained laugh.

  “It was worth a try,” I said, looking at the others. “Get her.”

  I flew out of my body. So did Morgan. He grabbed one arm, and I grabbed the other. As a ghost, she was solid, but cold. “Let go of me, mortals,” she hissed.

  “You’re not so powerful, are you?” I said.

  River strode forwards and stabbed her. She screamed in rage, impaled on his sword, writhing in pain.

  “You possess enough magic to stay alive,” he said. “What are you?”

  What? I looked at her, but I couldn’t tell if she was part faerie. River would know, though.

  “Were you ever a necromancer?” I asked, gripping her arm. “Or both?”

  “That’s why they put me to death. They should have done the same to you.”

  “Too bad things have changed, then,” I said. “Guess it got lonely here over all those years, watching the world move on, with only the fetch for company.”

  “I won’t be alone for long, Gatekeeper. You’ll be joining me soon enough.”

  “No chance, Thea,” River said. “I know who you really are. You’re the original faerie-necromancer, and you’ve been luring others here so you can bring the Vale monsters to our doorstep.”

  “So you have done your research.” She stopped struggling. “The necromancers past were not as cautious as they are now. They always use the candles to contain their rogue spirits because if they don’t, things have a tendency to go very wrong.”

  Several half-faerie ghosts appeared in the gloom, as the grey smoke wreathing the air turned transparent. I caught a brief glimpse of a forest path, grey as the smoke, lifeless and cold… and then it was gone.

  The Vale.

  The spirit broke free of our grip, laughing. River raised his sword, but the half-faeries descended on him, their eyes glowing blue and green. Half-Sidhe… and they still had their magic.

  The first half-faerie deflected River’s sword with a transparent blade of his own. I flew back into my body, ran forward, and stopped. My legs froze, my arms trapped against my sides, and a bone-deep chill seeped through my every nerve.

  That’s not faerie magic. It’s necromancy. The spirits had both types of magic.

  Morgan swore, his hands locked to his sides. Paralysing waves pinned me to the spot. River and the half-faerie continued to trade blows, while the ghost looked on.

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?” I said through gritted teeth, relieved I could still speak. “This is all entertainment to you. You’re stalling for time because I killed your fetch.”

  “I planned to take him out of the picture first,” she said, indicating River. “As for you, Gatekeeper… there’s someone on the other side who wishes to have a word with you.”

  The other side. “The Vale.”

  She’d made a deal with the Vale faeries… but for what purpose? Surely not to preserve her life—or what remained of it. She’d effectively gathered an army of faerie-necromancers who had free run of three realms at once…

  Magic streamed from their hands, bouncing off my shield. “Is that all you’ve got?” I shouted, trying to draw them away from River. He’d all but disappeared behind a flood of spirits, and while his blade could cut them, he couldn’t kill them. Worse, the grey smoke seeping in suggested that banishing them wouldn’t work either.

  “Destroy them,” said the ghost.

  22

  Two half-faerie ghosts advanced on Morgan and me, one Summer, one Winter. I couldn’t see how Summer magic, which usually revolved around making things grow, might survive death, but if anything, the Winter faerie’s magic glowed brighter than most living ones I’d seen, feeding on the necromantic energy present in the graveyard. Blue energy coalesced in a ball, and shot towards River. He glided out of the way, and the energy harmlessly bounced off my shield instead.

  “That was pathetic,” I shouted. “Go on. You have me tied up helplessly here. Come and get me.”

  Magic bounced off my shield again, and the energy dissipated into the air. They might have enough power keeping them alive, but they’d fade out eventually. And then they’d be sucked beyond the gate.

  Then it’ll be my chance.

  Book or no book, I was Gatekeeper. When the gate was within reach, I’d make sure the ghost passed on to the hell she belonged in. The same went for her servants. River dealt several blows that would have killed them, had they been living, but they clung on mercilessly to life, or what passed for it in the veil. It seemed a miserable choice.

  Morgan swore beside me, sweat standing out on his forehead from fighting against the invisible bonds. “The guy on the left is the one holding us captive,” he muttered. “The blue-eyed one. Get your faerie to hit him harder and this bloody spell will break.”

  The ghostly girl laughed loudly. “You’re only stalling for time, all three of you. Meanwhile, your sister rots in the cold and dark.”

  “I could say the same for you,” I said. “What’s the matter, is glamour all you have? Don’t you have any faerie magic of your own? Or are you too much of a coward to use it?”

  Maybe she doesn’t have magic. I couldn’t tell her eye colour, but they didn’t glow green or blue like a half-Sidhe or even the offspring of a lesser Court faerie. She didn’t even have the trademark pointed ears under the glamour. So what species was she? A human-appearing one, evidently, but not one with powerful magic.

  “You have the nerve to call me a coward, Gatekeeper, when you’ve been holding back on your own power.”

  “Please,” I said. “You were counting on me using it to trigger one of your plans to break the veil. You had to resort to stealing the book because I wouldn’t use it to cooperate with you. I need damn good reason to risk the lives of everyone in the city, and you temper tantrum isn’t one of them. I’ve dealt with humans who were more of a threat than you.”

  The ghost growled in fury. River, meanwhile, swiped at the nearest half-faerie ghost, sending him sta
ggering through a grave. He’d hit the half-faerie whose magic held me captive, and I twitched a hand, sensation returning to my limbs.

  Morgan lunged out of his body at the ghost, but she laughed as his hands closed around her throat. “I can’t be banished, you foolish child.”

  “I don’t see why not,” said Morgan. “You’re not so special.”

  The spirit broke free of his grip and spun around the grave, laughing like a child. She was one, barely sixteen by the look of her. The necromancers had killed her. Maybe she was justified in hating them for that alone, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous as hell. Even without magic. For all her posturing, she hadn’t attacked us—though being half-faerie and half-necromancer, she ought to have the powers of at least one of those.

  How do you take power off a necromancer? You bind them.

  She was bound here. By a spell more powerful than she herself was, and one she hadn’t managed to get anyone to undo. Maybe that’s why she needed the book.

  “I’m not letting you stall until the fetch comes back,” I shouted at her. “Tell me what you did with my sister.”

  “I didn’t do a thing.” She laughed. “The fetch will come back. It’s undying.”

  “And what does that make you?” I said. “Seriously, this is going to drive me out of my mind. Half-sluagh? You’re almost foul enough, but you look human. Shapeshifter? Or do you really have no magic at all?”

  She hissed in anger. “You know nothing about me, Gatekeeper.”

  “Enlighten me. What do you want with the book? To get your magic back, right?”

  “To watch the necromancers burn,” she whispered. “They deserve worse for what they did. And you’re going to destroy them yourself. It’s almost time.” She smiled. “You’ll die, the same as the last Gatekeeper.”

  The ghost disappeared.

  “What—the fuck?”

  Grey fog seeped across the graveyard. The half-faeries disappeared into the mist, while the world outside was smothered in fog.

  “Get back here!” I shouted. “What the hell do you mean, you killed the Gatekeeper?”