The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy
Page 51
I didn’t sense anything except the smell of faerie fruit and flowers, and the scorching hot sun burning my skin through my clothes. There was a whole world of magic cut off from me, and to be perfectly honest, I’d prefer to keep it that way. But was the talisman book so different? What it’d done to me yesterday—it wouldn’t have stopped if I’d died. The void would have continued opening to swallow this realm whole.
River said, “I’m crossing over. Get behind me.”
There was a flash of white light, and immediately, we stood on another lawn, one with rotting grass beneath a grey sky. Dead plants, decay, and…
“The house is still there!” Morgan said.
“It looks… normal,” Hazel said, confusion furrowing her brow. “Nobody’s inside. I don’t get it.”
I frowned. The Summer Lynn house stood the same as usual, down to the curtains of ivy growing on the walls. But beyond, the country road… didn’t look right. No forests were behind it. Only fields of heather, and beyond, darker shapes silhouetted against the sky. Mountains?
“Guys,” I said. “Look at the road. I don’t think we’re attached to the Ley Line anymore.”
The house stood where it used to, countless years before someone had used a spell to detach it from the mortal realm. The Winter estate was nowhere in sight.
“Look on the bright side,” Morgan said. “We’re not homeless.”
“Speak for yourself.” I stared at the cloudy sky. “You know, we can’t access Winter’s house from here. Or anywhere else on the Line.”
“Or open Paths,” said Hazel. “Oh, shit. We’re stranded.” Her gaze fell on the forest behind, which had once led to the Winter estate on the other side. There was no sign of Holly’s house at all.
“Damn,” I said quietly.
Summer’s gate had vanished.
8
We looked around at the garden, the sky, the impossibly normal Highlands… and the missing gate. Not to mention the other Lynn house. Had Holly even noticed anything was wrong? Or was she somehow responsible?
“There are worse places to be stranded,” I said, but I didn’t really believe it. Someone had stolen the gate. It shouldn’t just vanish. “Hazel, isn’t your magic working at all? Can you sense the Ley Line?”
“I could never sense the Line. It was just… there.” She removed the circlet from her forehead, her hand shaking and her lip trembling. She was on the verge of tears, which meant using one of us as a verbal punching bag. I didn’t particularly want to be on the receiving end.
“Great,” Morgan said. “I never gave a flying fuck about the house and even I know it’s bad news that we’re marooned in the middle of nowhere.”
“At least we’re next to the village, not on top of a mountain,” I said. “This area’s pretty free of wild fae, too. Probably because of Mum. Or Agnes and Everett.”
“Aren’t we right next to the graveyard?” asked Morgan.
“Our family mausoleum’s closer.” My throat went tight at the thought of Grandma. I’d never see or speak to her ghost again. “We can go to the village. Nothing escapes Agnes. I want to know how she got to Edinburgh from here.”
“Flew, probably,” Morgan said. “Wasn’t there a rumour that she has a pet dragon?”
I rolled my eyes. “She might know who took the gate.”
“Or Arden.” Hazel walked off. “Hey, Arden!”
No response came. The raven seemed to come and go whenever he liked, which wasn’t particularly helpful right now. I didn’t even know if he’d still been in the Court while we’d been there. Maybe he was with Holly, but we couldn’t reach her either.
“I don’t think he’s coming back,” I called to Hazel, who scowled.
“Bloody menace of a bird. Some use he is.” She strode over to me again. “The necromancers?”
“I can talk to them here,” I said. “Since we’re not in a liminal space any longer.”
“Really?” said Hazel. Her voice cracked a little, and I politely pretended not to notice. “I don’t think I’ve seen you do it before.”
“That’s because Graves froze you the first time I tapped into the spirit realm.”
“He did?” said River. “That explains it. I was certain I sensed unusual necromancy, but I wasn’t aware of your powers at the time.”
“Yeah, I was surprised, believe me. Let’s see what’s going on in Death.”
Greyness smothered my vision, and I looked around the spirit world. After the void of death I’d seen in Faerie, it was kind of a relief to see it.
“Hey,” I called out. “Greaves. Either of you will do.”
The older Greaves appeared, a scowl on his withered face. He blamed me for his accidental intrusion into the land of the living, since the first time I’d banished a wraith on the Ley Line, it’d somehow caused a necromancer Guardian to be unceremoniously yanked back to this side of the grave. As a high-ranked necromancer, he could probably leave whenever he liked, but since there was no longer a living leader of the necromancer guild in the village, the others likely needed the guidance.
“Lynn,” he said. “What have you done this time?”
“Absolutely nothing. We went to Faerie and someone messed with our house. It’s uprooted from the Ley Line altogether. Do you know how?”
“That can’t happen from this side,” he said. “I know nothing of Faerie, but I do know that it’s not this realm’s magic that binds your house. The cause isn’t here.”
Well, crap. “So where the hell is it, then?”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” said the old man. “Besides, the Ley Line isn’t that far away. It’s within walking distance, certainly. You’ll find Winter there.”
“I’m not looking for Winter,” I said. “We’re miles out in the middle of nowhere. We don’t have a car, our mother’s still missing in Faerie, and if anyone in either realm needs our help again, they’re pretty much screwed.”
“Then it’s a good job you’re here,” he said. “Agnes’s shop is on fire.”
I switched off my spirit sight, alarm flickering through me. “Did something else follow us here?”
Morgan shook his head, having apparently been listening in. “Agnes is a powerhouse. Nobody can hurt her.”
“Most people aren’t stupid enough to try.” I looked around for Hazel and saw she’d left the house door open. I ran into the hall, heart hammering. The house felt… normal. Several pairs of eyes seemed to follow me from the portraits lining the entryway, like the past Lynns were casting judgement on all of us for making such a monumental mess of things.
“Nothing’s been stolen,” Hazel said, sticking her head out of Mum’s workroom. “What is it?”
“Someone’s attacking Agnes’s shop.” I moved in behind her. “Are there any functioning weapons in here?”
“We blew through most of the witch spells, but there’s no shortage of iron.”
She handed me a couple of spells, but it was plain to see our supplies were dwindling. Like everything else in the house. If the Vale was attacking, we’d have to rely on our magic. Hazel herself was armed to the teeth and her expression was set with simmering rage. I’d seen that look on Mum’s face a dozen times. Like when she’d found out about the local half-Sidhe bullying me, or when Hazel had been in trouble at school. The look she wore when she went to war for one of us. Hazel would do that, I knew. As I’d do the same for her or Morgan.
I didn’t have time to change out of my faerie-made clothes, so I shoved a hoody on top, relocating the talisman to the inside pocket. “We’re low on iron filings.” I passed a container to Morgan. “Don’t use them unless the threat’s a faerie, okay?”
“Why are we risking our necks for her?” he asked, taking the container from me. “She jumped ship when we got attacked in Edinburgh.”
“She also gave us spells free of charge that saved all our lives, in case you’ve forgotten. Besides, she’s probably toasted the threat and the fire’s made of their barbecued corpses.”
That seemed more likely than Agnes having any need of help. But when I walked out the front door and spotted a stream of smoke rising from the village, my panic came back. Seeing the village from the house at all seemed wrong and out of place.
River took the lead, moving with half-faerie speed, while the rest of us hurried to keep up. We might have iron, but none of us carried any necromancy props. I bloody hoped it wasn’t a wraith. We didn’t have time to take a detour to deal with the living necromancers. Their headquarters looked as though it was locked, anyway.
Sparks of light shone above the village as we ran along the rain-damp path, and a thin trail of smoke rose amongst the rooftops. Those sparks were awfully familiar.
“Faeries,” River warned, conjuring magic to his own hands. Away from the Court, the green light wasn’t quite as bright and flashy, but the sparks of green and blue light surrounding the transparent figures floating overhead looked like a fireworks display. So much for the iron.
People ran around screaming as the half-faerie ghosts flung handfuls of Summer and Winter magic, causing the ground to freeze or thorny plants to appear wherever they hit. Of course the little bastards had used glamour, so to anyone without the Sight, it looked like faerie magic was exploding from thin air. Calling on the book’s power, I ran to meet them. White light ignited my own palms. I didn’t care about exposing it to the world anymore.
A green-glowing ghost landed in front of me. “Gatekeeper.”
“Go back to hell.” Necromantic power poured from my hands, striking the ghost in the chest. He flew back, rage sparking in his blazing green eyes. Someone had no trouble drawing on Summer magic. But when he aimed an attack at me, the magical blast struck my shield and ricocheted into the air. I hit him again, knocking him off balance. From his clumsy movements, he hadn’t had nearly as much practise moving around as a ghost as I had.
Morgan and River ran below the ghosts, both drawing on necromantic energy. The ghosts flew away from the panicking humans to target us instead, but thanks to three of us being able to deflect magic and River’s ability to move swiftly and retaliate with necromantic attacks, the ghosts couldn’t land a hit on us. Hazel marched in, ordering the crowd to break up and take shelter. I hoped they’d listen to her, because with raindrops beginning to fall from the sky, spotting the transparent ghosts became even more difficult. Freezing drizzle soaked through my clothes, numbing my hands. Enough of this crap.
I shouted the banishing words, blasting the nearest ghost with necromantic power. He vanished, but his neighbour descended, yelling in rage. Ghostly hands grabbed at me, tugging at the essence of me. “Come with us, Gatekeeper.”
“Where, the Vale?” I asked through gritted teeth. “I’d love to meet the person you’re working for.”
“Oh, you won’t,” said the ghost. He kept tugging. I let him, and power built behind my hands, pulled straight from the book. “You’re coming to the Vale so you can wander there forever, while we take back what’s ours.”
His hands latched onto my spirit and pulled. I let go, soaring out of my body, power blasting the faerie ghost onto his back. Grabbing his throat, I let him struggle, squealing in astonishment that I was attacking him as a ghost.
“Do none of your people know who I am?” I asked. Damn. He’s not faking. It came as no surprise that the half-faeries didn’t know how powerful the book was, but made it that much harder to guess the perpetrator. “Tell me who you’re working for. It’ll go easier for you. I can walk in and out of the Vale any time I like. Understand me?”
The ghost paled. “I—I don’t want to die.”
“You’re already dead.”
Tears spilled from his eyes. “This is all her fault. We’re stuck here because of her, and now we can’t come back unless we help them.”
“Who?”
Fury sparked from his eyes. “Ivy Lane. She condemned us to this.”
“What? How?”
He shook his head, tears spilling. He was really young, despite his ghostly state. They all were. Ivy Lane? She did this to them?
“I can help you move on,” I told him. “It’ll be fast. But you need to tell me what you know.”
He sobbed again. “I’ve been stuck in the Vale for so long… I had to get out. There were other half-bloods, they told me to help them. They told me to bring you with me and I’d get to live again.”
“They lied. You can’t raise the dead permanently, not in the way you want. If it’s any consolation, the Sidhe are the same.”
The book’s power filled me, the image of the gates appeared at his back, and he faded from view, disappearing beyond.
The spirit sight receded, greyness fading to be replaced with bright light and a burning smell. My heart lurched.
Smoke poured from the roof of Agnes’s shop despite the rain, and River emerged with Everett leaning on him. Behind, Agnes stormed out, coughing and swearing at full volume. Relief filtered through. They’re okay.
The remainder of the crowd dispersed pretty quickly when Agnes unleashed several firework spells into the sky. I saw the necromancers casting suspicious looks at me, but none of them seemed to want to get too close to the burning shop. Hazel stood talking to two of them, presumably giving them a human-friendly explanation. Even a village full of supernaturals had little chance of banishing faerie ghosts. It was seriously luckily none of them had been wraiths.
Everett stepped away from River, eyeing him suspiciously. “You certainly have a good sense of timing.”
“The ghost of old Graves warned me,” I said. “Are you and Agnes all right?”
“We’ve been worse,” he said. “We have healing spells. The fire’s out, but the spells need to… settle down.”
Agnes snarled, throwing a spell over the house. The smoke dispersed. “You can all stop looking at me like you’re expecting thanks for doing nothing,” she growled at the remaining necromancers, who fled as far as possible from her condemning stare. “Useless, the lot of them.”
“Who started the fire?” asked Hazel, striding over. “The necromancers said the ghosts appeared at the guild first.”
“Bastards,” said Agnes. “Those ridiculous sparks of theirs got into the shop and hit my entire display of elemental kindling spells.”
“We can salvage the rest,” Everett said consolingly. “It’s not the first time the shop’s been attacked.”
“No, but it’s bloody annoying,” Agnes said. “Our house is two minutes from here. The faeries wouldn’t have the nerve to torch that.”
“We’ll come and check.” To my immense surprise, River moved to help her walk. He’d distrusted the old mage when we’d first met, even going as far as to believe she was working against us.
She shot him an aggrieved look. “Do you think me incapable of walking by myself?”
“You were attacked in a room full of volatile spells. Both of you are lucky to be alive.”
“Is he always like this?” said Agnes, jerking her head at him.
She’d probably meant to say, does he know what I’m capable of? I answered both: “Yes. His mother is the leader of Edinburgh’s necromancer guild and his father’s a lesser noble in the Seelie Court.”
“Royalty.” She snorted, but allowed him to help her. River didn’t appear to have suffered any injuries, to my relief. Nor had the others. Hazel checked on the houses as we walked, making sure the faeries hadn’t left any damage, while Morgan and I checked the spirit realm. Quiet. Obviously, it wasn’t a coincidence that the ghosts had targeted the village the instant we returned from Faerie, but they hadn’t been an organised collective. They’d been angry, chaotic.
I’d been wondering if I’d see Ivy again ever since her unexpected appearance in the Lynn house, but if she’d left those half-faeries to suffer in limbo, maybe I was better off sticking with the handful of allies I had. I pulled up my hood against the rain, daydreaming longingly of the warm café in Edinburgh, secret dates with River, the closest to calm I’d known in a long time.
Agnes marched to the armchair and sat in it as though daring the rest of us to challenge her. We filed in behind her, standing with our arms against our sides to keep from knocking things over. Everett cleared his throat and went off into the adjacent kitchen, switching the kettle on.
“Will one of you tell me where the bloody hell those ghosts came from?” Agnes said.
She was looking at me, but Morgan spoke first. “Out of the Vale, probably.”
“Really.” She turned her gaze onto him. “Are you certain?”
“Yeah. That’s where they’re operating from, I s’pose. Someone’s giving them orders.”
“They seemed to think they could come back to life,” I said, wishing I had something to lean against. Using the book’s magic again had left me feeling as drained as running two necromancer patrols back to back. “Sounds like that’s what the enemy is promising them, anyway.”
Agnes accepted a cup of tea from Everett. “You spoke to them.”
“In Death? Yes.”
Everett passed the tray of tea cups and biscuits to Morgan, who proceeded to surreptitiously conceal them on the already-crowded bookcase. Everett’s baking was known to occasionally turn people into household objects, and it usually wasn’t worth the risk. When River shot me a confused look, I whispered, “Trust me, it’s not worth it.”
The bookcase wobbled and Hazel moved in front of it as Agnes looked in that direction. “Er, so is your shop insured?”
Agnes scowled. “Well, I own the place, so it’s not insured. Most companies don’t offer magical protection for highly dangerous spells, let alone in places not on the map. But we can fix the damage.”
Morgan said, “They used to say the shop is dragon-proofed.”