The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “Necromancers,” Agnes said. “That explains why I didn’t know. Old Greaves and I had a disagreement some months ago.”

  Agnes didn’t really do ‘surprised’. I’d long suspected the Sidhe themselves could walk in here and Agnes would offer them tea and her husband’s potently magical cupcakes.

  “Might Greaves be behind this?”

  “Not a chance. This is advanced work—dark magic, reanimating the dead within the Lynn graveyard.”

  A chill crept across my shoulder blades. “Yeah, well. Mum’s gone, and instead of telling us where she is, the Seelie Court sent us a bodyguard who also doesn’t know what’s going on. I don’t suppose you know when she’s coming back?”

  “No. She never said.” She frowned. “It seems to me that you’ve been singled out by someone with a grudge against your family.”

  “I figured,” I said. “There’s another reason I need your help. I have this mark on my face, and I’d like to cover it up.”

  “I thought that was it.” She tilted her head sideways, her gaze on my forehead. “That’s remarkable. Take the charm off.”

  My hand automatically jumped to the necklace around my throat. “You—know what it is?”

  “I don’t, but I can guess what it means. Those who attacked you weren’t regular spirits.”

  “Faeries.” Huh. So I could say that aloud. I looped the necklace over my head. “I didn’t know you could use necromancy on faeries.”

  She squinted at the mark in that penetrating way that made me feel like she could reach into my head and pluck out my thoughts if she desired. “They’re living beings, same as us. As for those foul wraith creatures, however, they’re an abomination.”

  “You know about wraiths, then?” A small measure of relief rose within me, despite River’s warning not to mention the attack. “One of them got into our estate.”

  “And you banished it.”

  My breath caught. “You must have spoken to…”

  “Can I see the book?”

  I gaped at her for a moment, then reached into my pocket. To my immense surprise, the book came free in my hand and didn’t get stuck like when I’d tried to show it to River.

  “Interesting.” She looked at the cover, then my forehead. “That mark won’t come off, Ilsa. When did it appear?”

  My heart dropped. “After I used magic to bind the wraith—with the book.” I flipped it open. “It goes blank unless there’s a wraith or undead breathing down my neck or it feels like messing with me. So—do you know what the symbol means?” I ran a fingertip across the cover, tracing the swirling lines.

  “I don’t, but I can hazard a guess that the symbol is not from this world.”

  “You mean—Faerie.”

  She gave a nod. “Yes. There’s a certain type of text that can only be read by someone with faerie blood—Sidhe blood.”

  “River.” But he hadn’t recognised the mark when it’d appeared as a spell signature. “He’s a half-faerie, and I have no idea who sent him to guard us, or why. Maybe to stop the wraiths, because he’s part necromancer as well. But that thing was far stronger than any of us. I only banished it because of the book.”

  “Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow. “This bodyguard—is it possible he might be a spy for the other side?”

  “He’s definitely from the Summer Court,” I said. “I thought he was the enemy at first, but he’s bound by a vow to protect my sister. I’m wondering if Mum sent him, because she knows something’s going on involving the dead.”

  “This started with the undead attacks in the village,” she said. “But you weren’t at the house. You said the Summer Court brought you?”

  “A faerie knocked my house down,” I said. “They dragged me home on a mission that might be a ruse, might not.”

  “Which is…?”

  I weighed the options. By now, I was fifty percent sure there was no heir at all, and that someone had wanted to fabricate a scheme to bring me back to the Lynn house. “To find a missing heir to Summer’s Court. I don’t suppose you’ve ever met anyone called Ivy Lane? She knew something, too.” It seemed more and more suspicious that the whole thing had begun with Ivy’s ghost showing up. But I still couldn’t work out how it all connected, since faeries and death generally went together like elf wine and fireworks.

  “I know the name,” she said. “There are rumours of a human with faerie magic…”

  “Who can turn into a ghost?” This just got more and more bizarre.

  “Anyone can leave their body with the right magic, but with no guarantee of returning. It was a great risk she took, travelling along the Ley Line.”

  “To warn me,” I said. “It sounded like the situation in Faerie might be pretty dire, but it’s the solstice ball tomorrow. I can’t let the Winter Lynns find out any of this.”

  A clap of thunder made me jump backwards, and Everett appeared at Agnes’s side. His grey beard was clipped short and he had a friendly smile. He and Agnes shared several talents—such as the ability to see through most magical illusions—but while nobody knew the extent of Agnes’s abilities, Everett’s were more straightforward. He apparently came from a long line of illusion mages revered for their talents, which when combined with witch magic made for a lethal combination.

  “How much of that did you hear?” I asked.

  “All of it,” he said. “Interesting… I haven’t seen that mark in a long time.”

  “I need to cover it up,” I said. “At least until I’ve worked out what it means. Arden said it couldn’t be removed with a spell.”

  Agnes said, “He’s correct. If that’s the case, nothing here will remove it. But we can hide it. I’ll check in the back.”

  She disappeared behind the counter.

  “So you have the book.” Everett looked down at it. “You have a very interesting family.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “I won’t speak of this to a soul,” he added. “Agnes and I know the dangers of the Courts of Faerie well enough not to provoke those who care not for mortals… yet this book of yours is something else entirely.”

  “I wish I could read it. Do you have a spell for that?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not if it doesn’t want to be read. It’s the type of magical object which adapts itself to the skill level of the user, I imagine.”

  “And my skill level is zero.” I rolled my eyes. Amateur indeed. “Grandma wouldn’t tell me anything. Why did nobody tell me she was a necromancer?”

  “She wasn’t,” said Agnes, walking back into view.

  “You knew her, didn’t you?”

  The old woman inclined her head. “For a time. As Gatekeeper, she often came to me for advice on handling disputes between supernaturals within the town. She never mentioned the book, but it’s an ancient one, perhaps as ancient as the Lynn curse.”

  Hmm. I’d never known anyone else in our family to have any magical talent aside from being Gatekeeper. But I’d also I’d never had the chance to consider a future where I had magic of my own. Here, surrounded by it, I couldn’t deny that some part of me was drawn to it against my better judgement. Maybe the same part of me, long buried, who’d wanted to come back to the Lynn house.

  “What about… the other branch of the family?” I glanced over my shoulder. “I haven’t spoken to Holly in years. Have you seen her recently?”

  “I haven’t spoken to Miss Lynn in some time, nor her mother, but talking to her might be a good idea. Their magic has natural ties to death.”

  “Wait…” I said slowly. “When the wraith appeared, it went cold. Really cold. I figured that was because it came from Death. It’s always freezing around necromantic magic. But… wraiths are concentrated magic, I’m told. Might it have been from Winter—the faerie, when it was alive?”

  “Perhaps,” she said.

  Maybe the Unseelie were involved. It’d be in their interests to stop us from getting to the heir—if there was one. But would the Winter Lynns risk
a thousand or more years of peace when the Sidhe could permanently die? I didn’t know enough about the situation in the Courts to make a judgement call on that one. I did know that the Winter Gatekeepers were sworn to keep the peace as much as we were, and betraying that oath meant death.

  Agnes handed me a necklace with a teardrop-shaped stone. “This is an updated version of the spell you already wear. Everett’s best work. It should last a few weeks… I’m afraid witch charms aren’t made to be permanent. But if you need anything else, you need only ask.”

  “Thank you.” Slipping the spell into my pocket, I said, “Can you get me some basic disguise spells, as well?” Hiding the mark might not be enough. If I wanted to do any more poking around, maybe I was better off putting on a mask.

  She went to unlock a cabinet. “Yes, I can. How many do you need?”

  “Two,” I said. “One for Hazel and me… maybe one spare. I don’t suppose you know anything else about the nature of this mark?”

  “I’m afraid not,” said Agnes, lifting the spells from the cabinet and re-locking it. “I imagine the book will tell you, when it feels you’re ready.”

  “It isn’t alive,” I said. “Seriously?” You couldn’t put a soul inside an object. I knew that much, at least.

  “Everything about that book confounds me, to be honest,” said Agnes. “Keep it hidden.”

  “I will. Thank you.” I paid for the spells, put the book back in my pocket and the spell around my neck, and left through the door. As I did, a curtain of rain lashed down on me, and a feathery shape nearly crashed into my face.

  “Bloody hell, Arden.” I stepped backwards as the raven righted himself and flew off. He didn’t usually come to the village, but maybe he’d come to check up on us. Zipping my pockets tight, I huddled in my coat and went in search of the others.

  I found them in a coffee shop, hiding from the rain. River got to his feet the moment I reached them. “Got what you needed?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Wish I’d bought a weather-proof spell. Are you two done here?”

  “We are,” Hazel said, moving towards me. Maybe she didn’t want anyone seeing them together. Oh well. She’d kept him out of my hair while I questioned Agnes, which was the plan. Unfortunately, I had no more answers than before, and I’d never heard of a spell Agnes didn’t know about. Next time Grandma appeared, I’d corner her for a proper conversation. Or maybe I’d use the shadow spell to sneak into the necromancers’ guild. They strode in and out of Death at will, so there must be a way to track a specific spirit…

  River stopped abruptly, frowning. “There’s someone nearby.”

  We’d reached the village’s outskirts, where houses gave way to fields and farms. A faint earthy scent reached my nostrils. Summer magic… but not quite.

  Three figures appeared from nowhere in front of us. Faeries, long-limbed, sharp-toothed. River tensed up, his hand slipping to his sword.

  “Gatekeeper,” said the faerie, extending tentacle-like limbs. The others did likewise, circling us. Trapping us.

  11

  Hazel raised her hands and blasted a wave of green Summer magic into the enemy, while River whipped out his sword, rushing them. I raised my arms to shield my face from their jabbing hands, and when the first fae turned on me, I grabbed its arm, my hand covered in iron filings from my sleeve. It let out a thin, reedy scream. Long, spindly and tree-like, they didn’t quite look like traditional Summer wild fae. Their eyes were huge and staring, their mouths curved and cruel, their hands long and taloned. Whatever they were, I’d never seen them before, but some weaknesses were universal to all faeries.

  I grasped a handful of iron flakes in my palm, flinging them at the enemy. The fae creature dodged aside, hissing as the iron’s close proximity burned its skin. I needed to get closer to better aim, which would put me at their mercy. One fae shook off Hazel’s attack, long arms reaching for her. She danced out of reach, her hands glowing with green light.

  Similar light surrounded River’s blade as he appeared as little more than a blur on my right hand side, moving in a lethal dance that should have taken out all three fae at once. But somehow, they dodged, as surely as they avoided Hazel’s flaring magic. Green light struck the earth, thorns springing up as her Summer magic spun a trap, but the plants died the instant they grew, withering to dust.

  I threw more iron fragments, my other hand grabbing the short knife in my pocket and tugging it free. If they could dodge even River’s sword, these creatures were leagues above my skill level, but the iron would still hurt if I could get a good stab in. Green light lit up Hazel’s hands, shining from the mark on her forehead, yet every attack had little effect on any of the enemies.

  “Who are you?” Hazel demanded. “You’re not from Summer—you’re spinning a glamour.”

  Shit. She was right. And it’d have to be one hell of a glamour to fool the three of us. I narrowed my eyes, gathering more iron, trying to see—there. The spindly faeries warped before my eyes, bodies twisting into contorted, shadow-like shapes as their glamour peeled away.

  Vale faeries. Outcasts.

  A spindly hand appeared behind me, wrenching my arm back. One of the fae had slipped unseen behind my back, and its other hand grabbed my neck, bark-like fingers gripping tightly. I gasped, my breath sputtering, but I couldn’t get at the right angle to stab it with my weapon hand incapacitated.

  I thrust my elbow back, missed, then trod on the fae’s foot. It was like stamping on a tree root, but my boots were thick enough to cause pain. Its hand momentarily relaxed on my neck and I released iron fragments into my hand, grabbing the wrist of its tentacle-like arm. The creature hissed in pain, its grip loosening enough for me to wrench my knife hand free. As the iron tore away at its defences. I stabbed it in the arm. Sap-like blood spilled from the wound and I pivoted out of the way, its talon snagging my foot. I’d never fought and bested a shape-changer before. Usually they attacked alone and ran when things got nasty.

  “Who sent you?” I kicked out, tugging my foot free. “Tell me who you’re working for.”

  Hazel’s harsh scream made my head snap up. She struggled in the grip of the beast she’d been fighting, whose hands had locked her in place. Summer magic didn’t do much good against creatures who fed on its power, like these did. I think I know what they are. Wherever death stealers went, they left corpses in their wake. But I’d never seen more than one of them fight as a team before.

  River cut down, his blade freeing Hazel from the trap, and she sprang backwards with magic at her palms. Our shielding abilities didn’t extend to deflecting grasping tentacles. River’s sword flashed over and over, severing tentacles in a wave, but there were just too many.

  And it still hasn’t peeled off all its glamour.

  Tentacles lashed, teeth snapped, and the creatures kept growing, thwacking my hands aside as I cut desperately, trying to get through to where they held Hazel captive. She screamed, magic flaring from her hands, but it disappeared as quickly as she summoned it. Cold horror took hold of me. I’d seen how quickly those monsters could drain the life out of someone.

  Not Hazel. Never.

  Iron shards flew from my hand, piercing the closest fae’s leathery skin. I needed to get up close to its gaping mouth in order to kill it, and the three of them had effectively woven a net around us. A tentacle hit me in the face and knocked me backwards, my feet skidding in the mud. In its true form, the death stealer was a purplish black colour like a bruise, its head sunken into a huge suction-like mouth. All three had reached their final form, their tentacles entwining.

  Mum’s face flashed before my eyes and I took aim, hurling the knife at the beast’s mouth. At the same time, it spat a flood of slime at me.

  Thick green slime splattered my feet, but the knife sank between its teeth. The flailing beast let go of Hazel, who dropped to the slime-covered grass. River leapt in with one vicious stroke, decapitating the death stealer. Its tentacles went limp, its mouth sagging, and it slumped onto t
he grass.

  The remaining two death stealers made horrible growling noises, tentacles reaching and swamping their fallen brethren. Ugh. They’re devouring it. Poison-coloured light spread across their tentacles, closing the gap in the web. One enemy had fallen, but now its companions were even stronger than before.

  River staggered backwards, sword cutting wildly with none of the finesse he’d previously used. The creatures were draining our energy—and I’d lost my best weapon somewhere in the monster’s mouth.

  I lunged forwards, and my knees buckled. My slime-covered boots had stuck together. The slime the creature had spat at me moved as though alive, binding my legs, creeping higher. This is how they devour their prey. “Hazel, run!”

  Hazel’s hands splayed. Magic swirled around her, gaining momentum like a whirling green tornado. The air crackled with power, the light growing brighter until all I saw was a green haze.

  Then she let go. Green energy engulfed the patch of ground where we stood, sending both living and dying creatures flying. I fell to my side as sharp thorny vines burst to life from the damp soil, forming a shield above my head. I lifted my head and saw River was protected in the same way.

  Hazel’s hands were spread wide… and dead pieces of tentacle surrounded her. Broken, shattered into fragments like a boulder dropped from a great height. Whoa.

  “Take that, you bastards.” Hazel swayed and fell to her knees. “Ilsa,” she said, half-crawling towards me. “I’ll undo it—”

  The plants lifted, retracting into the earth and removing the barrier over my head. I twitched my leg and found it slime-free. Sighing in relief, I kicked the slime away, and got to my feet. “Thanks, Hazel.” I hadn’t seen her use her power to its full extent in a long time, especially away from the Ley Line, and I’d forgotten it was quite that volatile.

  “Thanks for freeing me from that monster.” She shuddered. “That was too close.”