“Hey,” she said. “Good choice of venue. Damn, I wish I could get some of those pancakes…”
“Anything new come up in the meeting?” I asked.
“Same old.” She rolled her eyes. “We’re expecting another attack at any moment, but nobody knows where it’ll come from or what form it’ll take. Also, the Sidhe still haven’t shown up. Something about a murder.”
“That’s what we were talking about,” I said. “Morgan thinks raising the guy who died so he can testify to the Court might help, but I guess they wouldn’t much like that.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” said Ivy. “Even if it was possible. I never thought you could use necromancy in Faerie at all. But I’ve been thinking about what you said… and I think you might be right.”
“What did you say?” Hazel said, looking suspiciously at me.
“I have an idea.” I glanced at River. “I was waiting for Ivy to show up to share it. All our other plans risk us getting arrested. What we need is a direct way to get to the person who put the vow on us. There’s one type of magic that’s direct in that way.”
“What, vows?” said Hazel dubiously. “Vows are direct, but only if you know the wording.”
“We know one word.” I pointed at her forehead, then at mine. “The Gatekeeper’s binding mark… it’s not just a mark. It means something.”
“An Invocation,” River said, in a low voice. “Neither of you can read it?”
“Can you?” said Hazel defensively.
He shook his head. “No. I only know a few words. I assumed since it was your family’s, it was restricted to Gatekeepers only.”
“I’m not Gatekeeper yet,” Hazel said. “I know the final stages of my training probably involve learning all the Sidhe’s secrets… and Mum definitely had some other way of getting directly into the Court. I always assumed it was down to the gate. But our symbol is carved into it.”
“Exactly,” I said. “It’s a long shot, but… Ivy can read the language. Every word.”
Hazel’s mouth fell open. “But… how?”
“Instinct,” she said. “Honestly, I’ve no idea. It’s a side effect of my magic. Only people with Sidhe magic can actually speak the words aloud without consequences. I’d say you probably can, since you have the Gatekeeper’s magic.”
“Damn.” Hazel shook her head. “This is way off the rulebook.”
“I didn’t think that mattered,” I said. “Apparently the words are so specific that if they belong to a person, it takes you straight to them. So if we get into Faerie and speak that word, it’d take us to the gate, or to the person who put the spell on our family in the first place.”
“Since it’s a binding spell, I suppose it would take you to the caster,” said River. I thought he’d approve of my plan. The book might terrify the Sidhe, but vows were a type of magic they’d created themselves, and respected. Unless they’d stolen that magic from the gods as well, but the point still stood. We had few other options.
“Oh.” Hazel’s expression cleared. “I get it. You can’t use magic to get into Faerie if you aren’t one of them, but if we work with their magic… the vow, if I used it in a literal sense, it’d act as though I’d have to immediately go and obey the one who put it on me, I’d be dragged straight to the Erlking and nobody would be able to stop me.”
“The only downside is that you might not be able to take anyone with you,” said Ivy.
“It’s the bloodline,” I said. “That’s what the vow binds. It doesn’t bind to a specific person until they take the position as Gatekeeper. If both of us speak, we’ll both be taken there.”
“How did you know?” said Hazel, surprise flashing across her face.
“I worked it out. Don’t you remember?”
Our gazes connected. She remembered as well as I did the months leading up to her magic manifesting. Morgan had already passed the age where his magic might have shown up. But with the two of us, it might have been either of us who took the position. We hadn’t known.
We’d sworn to break the curse.
Our plans never amounted to anything. Hazel seemed committed to her position at first, and whenever it became too much for her and she wanted to run away, she found me, and we pulled out all our old notes. All our guesses from what Mum had said, about the nature of the curse, and the possible wording of the vow. And how it might be undone. The entire family was bound to the one who spoke the Invocation. That should mean that since Hazel wasn’t actually Gatekeeper yet, I should be able to go with her.
I was counting on it.
“So you want to go alone?” said Ivy. “The two of you?”
“The more people who go into Faerie, the more chances they have to hurt us,” I said. “I need to tell the Erlking—if he really is the original caster—what I am. And that his wife’s plotting against the Court.”
“I can tell you how to pronounce the word here,” Ivy said. “But we’d need to go into Faerie to actually get into the Seelie Court. Speaking those words draws on all the faerie magic in the area. There isn’t much in this realm normally, and the two of you aren’t used to handling the magic. It’s… destructive. Powerful.”
River rose to his feet, his face paling. “If it’s that dangerous—”
“I’m just telling you what I know,” said Ivy. “I used an Invocation to banish someone powerful when there was hardly any magic left in this realm at all. It’s do-able. But I have to warn you of the risks.”
“I’m lost,” Morgan said. “How would speaking this magic word help at all?”
“Vows aren’t set in stone,” Hazel said, her eyes gleaming. “If someone swears I will obey you, the person it’s cast on might decide it means once. So they obey, then they stop. If their will is stronger than the person who put the spell on them, they can’t be compelled to obey them again. Of course it usually ends in a stalemate because the Sidhe are equally powerful. But the Erlking is indisposed. He’s weak. If I figure out what exactly the vow said, I can outdo him. Or if it turns out the family’s mark is the vow, or means Gatekeeper, it carries its own magic.”
“Guess I’m sitting this one out,” said Morgan.
“We need someone to keep an eye on things here,” I said. “One problem… I guess we need to either find the Ley Line or a liminal space. Somewhere close to Faerie.”
“I can find the Line,” Ivy said. “We should leave before the council tries to stop us.”
River was silent as we left the cafe and walked down the road, following Ivy’s lead. Even my spirit sense didn’t tell me the Ley Line’s general direction, nor the book. But if Ivy could speak the gods’ language aloud, then surely I could as well. I’d speak to the Erlking, and demand he get back our gate, and Mum along with it, or die trying.
There was no other way to end this.
The book’s magic hummed in my veins. We drew to a halt, looking up at the peak of Arthur’s Seat.
“We seriously have to climb the hill?” I said.
Ivy tilted her head up. “I can see a shit-ton of faerie magic up there. Must be a liminal space.”
“Or the local half-faeries throwing a party,” I said.
We began the steep climb. River could easily have taken the lead but hung back to walk at my side, occasionally looking at me as though to check I was still there. Finally, I grabbed his shoulders and kissed him in full view of the others, and probably half the tourists, too. He stared at me, his eyes stunned.
“If the Erlking doesn’t let me come back, I’ll tear a hole between the worlds with my own hands,” I said to him.
“And if you’re not back in a day, I’ll do the same from this side,” he said defiantly.
“Save your proclamations of love for after we’ve finished saving the world,” Morgan said. He didn’t look unenthusiastic about missing out on another trip into Faerie. On any other occasion, I’d have been happier sitting it out. But this was different.
Ivy glanced at me as the line drew closer. I saw it now, s
hivering with magic, tinted green. “That guy… River. He’s a registered necromancer, right?”
“Yes,” I said, unsure what she was getting at.
Ivy said, “We’ve been trying to get half-faerie representatives on the council for a year now, but they don’t like having conflicting loyalties, and they always pick the Court. They’re not keen on the idea of cross-supernatural cooperation. Neither are the shifters, but they can be bribed. We can give the shifters access to resources. Half-faeries don’t want or need them.” She shrugged. “But he seems to know both worlds, so he’s a prime candidate. If he wants to. Just making a suggestion.”
“He does,” I said. “Lady Montgomery trusts him, too. Assuming we survive this, I’m not letting the council make any decisions about Faerie without consulting the Gatekeepers. Hazel isn’t, either.”
“I thought not,” Ivy said. “Right… here’s how you pronounce the word.” She spoke it quietly, but the air hummed with magic.
I turned to Hazel. “Let’s hope it’s enough. If it’s the god’s language, and I have the gods’ magic, it should work for me as well.”
“Actually,” Ivy said, “the Erlking once had—and created—a similar artefact himself. Lost, now. But he knew the gods. Maybe he’s complicit.”
I blinked. “You’re telling me this now?”
“I don’t know him,” she said. “But… you be careful who you tell about the book.”
“I will.” But it’s my choice. I’d get the Seelie Queen arrested no matter what.
Hazel and I stepped directly into the spot on the Ley Line. A place of potent magic. It tugged at my spirit, the Grey Vale calling for me. I paid it no attention, and looked at Hazel instead. Her face was a mirror of my own—stern resolution with a hint of fear.
We spoke the word aloud. And the forest moved. Forest? Holy crap.
Between one breath and the next, the Ley Line had shifted, the hill had vanished, and only forest remained. Summer territory.
21
Trees surrounded us, thick evergreens. The Seelie Court. The vow had brought us to the right place… but I’d hoped it would take us directly to the caster. The Erlking. Nobody appeared to be around, though the sounds of vibrant life surrounded us. Earthy smells, moss and berries and summer flowers. Birdsong. Sunlight.
Hazel’s breath caught.
The forest flickered… and the glamour faded. The trees shrank to cadaverous shadows, hunched and dead. Rotting flowers wilted beneath, and the smell of decay caught in my nostrils. A throne appeared, made of the dead roots of a tree trunk.
For an instant, I was certain we’d accidentally wandered into Winter’s Court, not Summer’s. But the man on the throne wore the green and gold markers of Summer. His golden crown was edged in thorns, and his eyes were alight with Summer magic. He rose to his feet, one hand resting on a carved staff. Power hummed from it, and to my alarm, the book shifted in my pocket. My vision tinted, and I knew the mark on my forehead had begun to glow of its own accord.
“This is what happens when you bind with a talisman of the gods.” He was beautiful, as all the Sidhe were. But everything around him was dead.
“How?” Hazel asked, her voice choked. “This… is this where the decay started?”
“No.” He laughed, a rich laugh. “This part of Faerie has always been rotten to the core. His hand wrapped around the staff’s hilt. It glowed faintly, but most of the glow, the only light here, came from him.
His talisman… he must have absorbed the magic into himself, and it was the type of Summer magic that drained life away. He couldn’t touch anything without killing it.
Including us.
Holy crap. He’s not sick. Everyone else is allergic to him.
“Why would you claim something like that?” I asked.
His gaze travelled to me. Don’t look directly in his eyes… but I could, and they didn’t dazzle me. I was too stunned to look away.
“I could ask you the same question.”
He knew. He recognised the same magic in me. And while his eyes glowed with Summer power, the talisman he wielded was not of this world.
Did he kill the gods? Why was he king, if his magic could destroy every one of his subjects?
“What did you wish to ask me, mortal?” he enquired.
“You… bound our family.” I forced the words out. “You must have spoken to our ancestors. The other Gatekeepers. The ones you enslaved.”
“Enslaved?” he echoed. “No… no, your ancestors chose to bind themselves in service to our Court.”
Bullshit. “Nobody would choose to hand over their own children.”
“We don’t die,” he said. “The vow works in whatever way is necessary. There is always a Gatekeeper.”
“There’s apparently always an Erlking, too, but you’re in serious danger,” I told him. “Your wife is a traitor. The Court is dying.”
He looked at me through vivid green eyes, his lip curling into a smile. “This part of the Court is always dying.”
“Not here.” I waved a hand vaguely. “How are you still the king? You… you don’t even need to command obedience.”
He could take a life with a touch… yet he didn’t scare me. Maybe because anyone here could take our lives with no effort. He held no power over me—no more than the other Sidhe did, anyway.
“You misunderstand, mortal,” said the Erlking. “I assumed, since you found your way to me… but I suppose nobody speaks of the gods anymore.”
“You killed them.”
His eyes caught mine. “No, mortal. I took in this power because nobody else would.”
“I was told you created things… artefacts that could destroy worlds.”
“Is this to do with whoever destroyed the gods’ ring?” he asked.
“The what?” said Hazel blankly.
“We’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, though a suspicion took hold of me. Ivy had mentioned a talisman… and she’d destroyed at least one, if the source of immortality could be called such a thing. No wonder the Sidhe didn’t like her.
“Pity,” he said. “I wanted to thank them. I spent years trying to rid myself of that monstrosity, but it was stolen from me. Of course, I cannot leave this grove without damaging the rest of this realm, so I was unable to retrieve it. Others from my time created those artefacts. The Courts were created to defend ourselves against them.”
“I thought… it was to do with bloodlines,” I said. “The heir…”
“Anyone can claim a throne,” he said. “But I will not relinquish my power as long as this talisman exists. I don’t need to spell out the damage it would do in the wrong hands.”
No. He didn’t. And ridiculously, I’d forgotten he was Sidhe, and couldn’t lie. Every word he’d said had been the truth.
“You tied your life force to the talisman,” I said. Almost like… necromancy, in a way. For the Sidhe.
“Most of us weren’t alive in the time when the gods walked amongst us,” said the Erlking. “The Ancients, the Powers… they were known by many names, and were by all accounts merciless and terrifying.”
“They say the same about you.”
The Erlking smiled. “I suppose they’re right. But there are horrors that would put the darkest Unseelie faerie to shame. There are reasons our realm needs immortality to thrive… and I suspect you have guessed that’s what I sent your mother to find.”
“In the Vale,” I said. “The gods’ magic—what’s left of it—ended up there, right? Unless you have more talismans lying around…”
“There may be others,” he said. “I sent her for knowledge, nothing more. But you should know… I have been unable to call her back. Whatever force holds her is stronger than our vow.”
My breath caught. “Stronger?”
Hazel gasped. “So… something has her captive?”
He shook his head, a frown darkening his face. “I cannot pinpoint the nature of what holds her. She lives, and she is still within our realm. Ye
s, I count the Vale as part of this realm, though most do not. You must find her yourselves, if at all.”
Then we will. We have to.
“That’s not all we came to ask you about,” I said. “Your wife…”
“I know she plots against the Court, the fool,” he said. “None of her schemes have ever amounted to anything. She knows what will happen if she defies me.”
“She murdered someone. Permanently. I’m sure of it. And she tried to kill both of us. I think she’s behind whatever took Mum.”
The only thing stronger than the Erlking was… another god. But Ivy had said they’d died out. All of them.
“Again,” he said. “I’m unable to leave this grove to check up on my scheming spouse.”
“Then what are we supposed to do?” I asked. “You know she’ll kill us if we accuse her publicly. And you must know we’re not strong enough to kill her, and even if we were, we’d face execution for murdering a Sidhe whether she is guilty or not.”
“Then you must choose. It’s not up to me… but I can help. Your mother is in the enemy’s hands. So is the gate. The one thing they don’t have is that talisman. Don’t let them get their hands on it.”
“They don’t want it,” I said. “She could have taken it from me… how do you even know about it?”
“Because I knew it in another form,” said the Erlking. “I cannot say for certain how it gained the shape that it did, but a piece is missing.”
A piece is missing? “I don’t understand.”
“There is much even the Sidhe don’t know. But I will say that my wife believes that if she finds the source of immortality first, she will be strong enough to wield a talisman of her own. And while I would like to be reborn again, there will be war if one person controls the source.”
“Just what is the source of immortality?” said Hazel.
A cauldron of blood. A chill raced down my spine as he looked us over.
“Your own magic forbids you from claiming it,” he said. “But you will be unable to speak a word of this to anyone else. The lifeblood of the Ancients carries the essence of immortality. They were endless until we forced them not to be. I claimed this throne because I feared the powers the other Sidhe, especially Winter, would claim without being kept in check. In the end, I was too late. Every god was killed or exiled, reduced to a shadow. And their lifeblood kept our shameful secret alive.” He paused. Not a sound echoed through the clearing, and hardly a breath disturbed the silence.
The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy Page 62
