“Get the hell away from him.”
I grabbed my salt canister, threw it at the hellhound’s undead body, and jumped into death once again. I looked around, focusing, looking for Morgan… there he was. Morgan’s spirit remained still, as his body fought against the fetch.
“Morgan!” I shouted. “Look at me. You can’t stop the fetch from possessing your body, but you can attack him here, as a spirit. You’ve been doing this for years, right? Just pretend this is the real you. He can’t harm you as a ghost.”
Morgan turned to face me. In the waking world, his screams quietened. Of course that meant the fetch was possessing him for real—but his mind wouldn’t break here in Death.
“You sure?” he said.
“Absolutely. As a necromancer, you’re stronger than they are by default. That’s why they’re using cheap tricks against us. They’re cowards. I’m gonna go back down there and put the iron on you, and then we can sneak up on the little bastard from behind. Ignore everything the half-faerie does—you’re stronger than it is. Got it?”
He nodded, bewilderment flashing across his face, and I closed my eyes and dropped back into my body. I’d barely moved an inch, but Morgan staggered to his feet, eyes glowing, the fetch’s presence struggling for control.
“Need a weapon?” I grabbed Morgan’s hand and closed it around the iron knife’s hilt.
As the fetch recoiled from his mind, a strangled noise came from its physical body. It writhed and flailed, rolling onto its back. I kicked it, viciously, and Morgan himself plunged the knife into the fetch’s neck. It gave a gargling screech. The fetch’s body stilled, then disintegrated into smoke.
Morgan stood holding the knife, an expression of stunned disbelief on his face.
“Morgan, I said pin it down, not possess it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. His eyes rolled back in his skull and he fell over backwards.
I gasped, dropping to the floor beside him. “Morgan?” I felt for a pulse and sagged with relief. “Dammit. Where’s that faerie ghost?” I switched on my spirit sight, but the ghost had disappeared. Already the ice on the windows was melting, but the house needed a major clean-up. The bodies of both the hellhound and the fetch had left bloody streaks everywhere, the sofa was a wreck, and melting ice dripped down the walls.
The door slammed open and running footsteps came from the hallway. Hazel and River ran into the room, both covered in blood. “What the—” Hazel stared at Morgan and the bloody knife clenched in his hand. “Morgan?”
“He just did something risky and stupid and I’m gonna yell at him when he wakes up, but—”
River strode to the hellhound and his blade flashed, decapitating it.
“It was already dead, twice over,” I explained.
“Just taking precautions,” said River. He was breathing heavily, but the blue-tinged blood all over his coat wasn’t his.
“Two of those bastards ambushed us outside,” said Hazel. “Should have figured the enemy would have backup waiting.”
I nodded, lifting Morgan’s limp arm. He still had a pulse, but now the adrenaline had begun to wear off, worry crept in. “This is my fault. The fetch was driving him literally out of his mind, so I told him to fight it as a ghost. He interpreted that as possessing the fetch himself, and I think it screwed him up.”
“He’s breathing,” River said, crouching down beside him. “If it’s anything like when an untrained magic user overdoes it, it won’t kill him.”
“Good.” I sank to the floor, my body trembling. “I just—he was in Death, and I know he’s apparently been hopping back and forth between there and here for Sidhe knows how many years, but he’s not trained.”
“It’s not your fault, Ilsa,” said Hazel. “He would interpret what you said in the riskiest, most ridiculous way. He does that.”
“I don’t think he’s ever come close to this before,” I said. “I didn’t even know someone who isn’t technically dead could possess someone, let alone use their psychic powers at the same time.”
“It’s not common,” River said. “The necromancers don’t like to broadcast their riskiest techniques, but in this situation… I think he should move permanently to the guild. If we tell them the full story, he’ll fall into the category of a rogue by the very nature of what he did.”
“Worse than what I did?” I asked.
“Not worse than controlling the gate, but that’s not possible at all, as far as most people are concerned. Is the fetch definitely dead?”
“I think it’s gone,” I said, shivering. “Bloody creature. I wish I’d seen if I got rid of it for real. How did it get into the circle?”
“It used your brother to turn this circle into a place of dark magic,” River said. “The candles came on by themselves. Morgan must possess enough necromantic talent to be able to switch on candles when used as a mouthpiece. I should have seen this coming.”
“Dark magic?” asked Hazel. “I take it you don’t mean faerie magic… but hellhounds are faeries.”
“Not the usual type,” River said. “Any type of magic requiring a blood sacrifice or which falls outside the bounds of conventional necromancy is labelled as ‘dark magic’. I wish there was a more specific label.”
“How about ‘grey magic’?” I asked. “Summoning from the Vale? That’s what it was… right?”
He nodded. “Apparently so. It is possible, because the Vale and the spirit realm are so closely linked. If you know what you’re doing, you can summon someone… or something… from the Vale directly here. Usually a hellhound. They’re particularly receptive to necromantic traps. I think they live directly on the spirit lines between realms somewhere, but that’s just a theory.”
“Holy crap,” said Hazel. “You can—a human can summon monsters from the Vale? And the fetch used our brother to do it?”
“He won’t suffer any lasting damage,” said River. “Not if he’s used necromancy before. There’s always a risk element involved.”
“But…” Hazel trailed off. “Look at the state of this place. What are we supposed to do with the hellhound?”
“Not a problem.” River raised a hand and the hellhound erupted into white flames. Quickly, they devoured its body until there was nothing left.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “When do I get to learn to do that?”
“In advanced training,” River said. “I’d advise you not to mention this to the guild. Not until I figure out what type of magic was used. They’re likely to pin the blame on your brother, and using dark magic carries an automatic jail sentence. The good news is that Lady Montgomery will be pleased that your plan worked, and it will work in our favour to tell her that your brother killed the creature in person.”
“Guess so,” I said. “Er—Hazel. Did you bring any spells which can fix broken furniture?” I indicated the collapsed sofa. “Or get hellhound blood out of the carpets? Everyone in this house will have to foot the bill.”
“Actually, in situations like this, I can pull strings with the necromancers,” River said. “Also, most houses have undead damage covered by their insurance. I’ll ask someone to write in a note.”
“First piece of good news I’ve had all day,” I said.
Morgan sat up, groaning. “I feel like crap. What happened?”
“You were attacked by the fetch,” I said. “In fact, you killed it.”
Morgan looked between us with an expression of disbelief on his face. “I killed it? Me?”
“You’re holding the knife.”
He looked down at the bloody instrument in his hand, then at me. “Oh. Awesome.”
I just hoped it was gone for real—and that nobody else would get the idea of summoning monsters directly from the Vale itself.
14
Another day, another necromancy test. I shut down the circle with a wave of my hand, still feeling the ghost’s clammy hands on my skin. I’d probably never get used to the sensation of being touched by the dead.
&n
bsp; “You pass,” said the examiner. “I’ve never seen anyone do a binding that quickly, Ilsa.”
“Thank you.”
The easiest way to take compliments on my necromantic talents was to imagine they were addressing the book, not me. I imagined the book basking in all the attention and hid a smile.
It’d been relatively quiet at the guild since the fetch had perished. Lady Montgomery marched around snapping at anyone who moved out of line or who didn’t stick to the guild’s rigid city patrol schedule, while the other senior necromancers had taken to spending long hours consulting their predecessors. I hadn’t been invited to any more summits, but considering everyone had ignored me at the last one, I had little to say to the guild. Being invisible suited me just fine, and a few weeks of peace were exactly what I’d needed.
Now I’d passed this test, I was one step closer to being River’s colleague rather than his apprentice. My heart skipped when I saw him waiting for me outside the testing room. He must have come back early from patrolling to meet me.
“Hey,” I said, closing the door behind me. “I passed.”
“Of course you did.” He paused, not speaking again until we were out of sight of the room, in the otherwise deserted corridor. “There’s a problem. I overheard Lady Montgomery talking about your next test, and it’s going to be held in front of the council. You’re not allowed to take anything into the room. No props. They’d pick up on the book for sure.”
“Ah—crap.” Could I even use my powers without it? I must be able to. “Can you use magic without your sword?”
“Of course I can. I just thought I’d warn you.”
“Warning accepted.” Considering Lady Montgomery had him running around at all hours patrolling, killing undead, and taking care of wraiths before they ambushed other unsuspecting necromancers, I appreciated how much effort River put into my training. He even managed to fit in a few sword lessons, and had been patient with my many failed attempts to swing a blade around. I was more than content to stick with knives—and the book. “Does this mean I’ll be a full-fledged necromancer soon?”
“Not soon enough for my liking.” He pulled me to him and kissed me. I wrapped my hands around the back of his head, and he broke off the kiss. “Your hands are freezing cold.”
“Blame the ghosts. How long until we can stop this charade?”
“Aren’t you enjoying it?” His bright green eyes gleamed as he looked me up and down, as though he could see right through my necromancer cloak. Heat rose to my cheeks. I didn’t need psychic powers to imagine his thought process.
“I’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to think about what Lady Montgomery would say about me corrupting her perfect rule-following son.”
“Hmm.” He brushed his lips over mine. “If I were better at following the rules, we wouldn’t have met in the first place.”
“True.” He’d taken to leaving presents on my doorstep whenever I was unlucky enough to be chosen for early morning patrols, since I’d opted to remain at the house. I’d said it was so Hazel had somewhere to stay when she came visiting, but I needed to spend at least a fraction of my time in a ghost-free zone. “Thanks for the books, by the way. How’d you find them?”
I’d casually mentioned an old book series I’d never been able to complete, and he’d somehow tracked down every single title.
He grinned. “That’s for me to know.”
“Spoilsport.” Frustration aside, I had to admit life was good. Half the time we walked to the guild via Edinburgh’s gardens or the witches’ café. I’d risk being tailed by piskies if it meant sneaking another hour with River. The fae didn’t seem to bother me as much as they used to. Maybe it was the fact that I wore necromancer uniform all the time so they couldn’t see I was a Lynn.
River leaned closer to me. “After you pass, Ilsa, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
I grinned. “Anything? You sure?”
“God, get a room,” said Morgan, appearing from behind with his arms folded. “Stop groping my sister.”
“He isn’t,” I said. I wish. “What is it?”
Morgan shrugged. “I was gonna congratulate you on passing the test. Passed mine too, obviously.”
“Did they need an extra room for your ego?” I rolled my eyes, but part of me was kind of proud of him for not screwing anything up so far. It seemed a low bar, but Morgan had taken to his new position at the guild with more patience than I’d expected. Okay, he’d also made inadvisable comments to almost everyone by now, and his relentless bragging about slaying the fetch was starting to get tiresome to most people. Including me.
“I stole some candles,” he said. “Borrowed, I mean. For the test. Since I kinda broke the spares.”
“Well done,” I said. “How’d you manage that?”
“Set them up in the middle of the road, forgetting people actually use it. Massive truck came along and well…”
I sighed. “Good luck explaining that to Lady Montgomery.”
“I wouldn’t mention it,” River put in. “So you’re junior level now?”
“Yeah. Still have some catching up to do. What’s next for you, Ilsa?”
“I have to go through a test without the book that has all my powers contained inside it,” I said.
“Ah. Guess you’re kind of screwed?”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “I can use magic without it. I’ll test whether I can leave the book somewhere else before I go through with the exam.”
“It’s worth giving it a go,” River said. “Since you’re both free.”
“What do you want me to do?” asked Morgan warily. He hadn’t mentioned the book to me since he’d nearly stolen it under the fetch’s influence.
“I’ll take the book,” River offered. “You help Ilsa. Use one of these rooms.”
“C’mon.” I beckoned Morgan after me into one of the empty test rooms. “The book won’t actually attack you if you touch it, you know. You’re not still hearing voices, are you?”
He shook his head. “I haven’t taken the iron off since that monster nearly killed us.”
“Good.” That explained why he looked so much more alert, and like he’d actually got a decent night’s sleep for the first time since the fetch had started stalking him. “You have the candles, right?”
He nodded, laying them out on the floor of the empty classroom. “Yeah, I’m supposed to return them upstairs. They don’t trust me with props yet.”
“Hmm.” The book’s absence was like a rattling in my skull, perhaps not unlike the presence of the voices which had hounded Morgan. “Let me try lighting the candles.”
I snapped my fingers, and the lights came on. Good. The spirit realm remained at my fingertips even now. The amount of iron here must keep outsiders away, because I never saw any spirits randomly floating around like I did outside. Bonus to being in the guild: I’d learnt several ways to deter them from following me by now, and to only draw attention of the ones I wanted to speak to.
I extended my awareness to cover the guild. River was in the corridor outside, and I felt the book pulsing from that direction. Hope nobody else can sense it. I doubted it—they’d have got suspicious by now. I moved beyond the guild’s boundaries, suddenly assailed by a hundred impressions at once. Outside the guild, spirits wreathed the city in grey light. So many living, some dead, and…
There was a long, horrible scream, reverberating through the endless smoke.
With a snapping sensation, I was wrenched back into my body, trembling with the aftershocks. “What the hell was that?”
“What?” Morgan looked puzzled.
I sank to the floor, breathing heavily as though I’d run a mile. “I heard screaming. Outside the guild.”
“You went outside the guild?”
“Just to see if I could.” I sucked in a breath, willing my racing heart to slow down. The scream had been loud, but unfamiliar… and the way it’d struck me was horribly similar to Morgan’s psychic shout.
The door opened, and Lady Montgomery came in. “What are you two doing in here?” she asked. “You’re not yet authorised to use those props unsupervised. Where’s River?”
“He just went outside for a moment,” I said, aware that the glowing candles and Morgan’s presence didn’t make me look the picture of innocence. “He’ll be back in a second.”
Sure enough, River appeared at the door. “Ilsa and I were practising… is something wrong?”
“Undead,” she said. “All over. We’re organising patrols. You take these two, since one of them is your responsibility.”
“Of course.” He dipped his head. “We’ll stop at the weapons room on the way.”
She swept from the room. River looked over his shoulder then passed me the book. I nearly sighed in relief when the tapping on my skull ceased. “At least we know it works.”
But there were undead attacking outside. Was it connected with what I’d heard?
“I’m coming, too,” Morgan said.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “I didn’t know you were on the rota.”
“A child could get rid of an undead,” Morgan said in a self-important voice, having apparently forgotten nearly being killed by one a few weeks ago. “Easy.”
River gave him a brief look. “If there are wraiths involved, it’s another matter entirely. It doesn’t sound like there are, but this might be a trap.”
“That, or someone trying to sneak into the guild again,” I said.
“There’ll still be people here,” he said. “We’ll get more weapons. Bring those candles with you.”
Morgan picked them up, and we headed upstairs to the weapons room. Naturally, Morgan made right for the iron swords.
“Put that down,” I told him. “It’ll only slow you if you don’t know how to use it.”
“What makes you think I don’t?”
“Because I’ve seen you every day since you signed up,” I told him. “And you refused to join us for sword practise.”
“Only because I get enough of you two drooling over one another anyway.”
The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy Page 35
