Ivy hissed out a breath. “Death Kingdom… he’ll pass through this way, but we need to find the old path of the dead.”
“How do you know all this?” asked Hazel. “You’ve been here a lot?”
“No,” said Ivy. “A couple of times. It all looks familiar, and when you have their magic, you get attuned to it.”
The hill levelled off. The ghost kept floating onwards, into mist, but Ivy paused. “We need to find a path…”
“I’m starting to think you don’t know the way,” Morgan said.
River didn’t say anything. He still carried my body over his shoulder, his blade in his free hand.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I told him. “Not with me. I’m not alive.”
“Ilsa, you’re still breathing,” he said, his jaw set. “I won’t give up on you.”
“This way,” Ivy called. “The path of the dead is a liminal space, so it overlaps with the Ley Line.” She took off again, weaving through the trees, her body outlined in shimmering Winter magic. A path began to appear between the trees, squashed flat, as though trampled by a million hooves. As the trees thinned out, it became more distinct.
“Don’t walk off the line,” she said over her shoulder.
I’d never have been able to keep up with her if I wasn’t a ghost. Hazel and Morgan ran behind River, downhill, as the path widened and the trees turned grey until the path almost resembled the Vale. It led in a straight line into nothingness in either direction.
“This was faster when riding on a hellhound from the Vale.” Ivy looked up and down the path. “This way. Just keep moving in a straight line.”
“I’m sorry, did I hear you say you rode on a hellhound?” I asked.
“Long story. Keep close behind me. Anything might have moved in since I was last here.”
“Wonderful,” said Morgan. “And I thought being a human necromancer was weird.”
Eventually, the path widened into an empty clearing with dead grass and little else. In the middle of the patch of the grass lay the family’s gate. Summer’s gate.
Mum was tied to it with thick ropes, her eyes closed. Aside from a thin gash on her cheek, she looked unharmed. Alive.
My heart seized. The first thing she’s going to see is my dead body. I looked desperately at River, but Mum didn’t stir. And nobody else was around.
“Well?” I asked of the echoing silence. “Who’s behind this? Not the Winter Gatekeeper… isn’t anyone going to own up to this?”
Mum’s hand twitched, but she remained unconscious.
“Come on,” I said. “I thought the Sidhe liked to show off. Or are you saving it until after you expose your new immortality source to the realms?”
“I’ll get her down,” said Morgan. He walked towards the ropes that held our mother, and a blast of magic knocked into him. He flew back several feet. Hazel caught him before he fell.
“It’s… magic.” His whole body was shaking.
My heart climbed into my throat as I looked closer at the gate. The Gatekeeper’s symbol on the top gleamed, while between its bars, eerie light shone. Not magic… not the type I knew, anyway. Or maybe I did. There was something seriously powerful beyond that gate.
“I thought the gods were dead,” I said quietly. “Except Arden.”
“They were all dead,” Ivy said. “The last one told me, before he died. But… maybe not. If Arden survived, it makes sense others did too.”
Ivy clearly had more to tell me… but whatever was beyond that gate was more than Summer or Winter magic. Magic fed on life or death, and from the state Mum was in, the realm beyond the gate was feeding on the Summer Gatekeeper’s life force, and on the family’s magic.
I know what they did. The Sidhe—the Summer Queen—had opened a way into the hellish dimension beyond the Vale itself to capture one of them, to use it to give themselves immortality once more. The gate was unbreakable. There was probably no stable way to open such a rift within their own realm without risking total destruction. But here—the mortal realm was right on the other side of the line.
Think, Ilsa. I might wield the gods’ magic myself, but mine was a whole different beast. And so was Arden. I was only guardian of one gate, not this one.
“Hazel, can you feel the Summer gate’s magic at all?” I asked.
“Only the Summer Gatekeeper is tuned into the gate to that degree.” She stepped up to Mum. “I should be able to get her down…”
“I wouldn’t waste your life, child,” said the Seelie Queen, stepping into view. She looked at us appraisingly—especially at me. “You look a little less substantial than before, mortal.”
“That’s your problem,” I said. “I was always mortal, and I never saw it as anything other than an asset. I have no reason to fear what comes after. I’ve seen it. People like you, though… what is it about death that scares you so much? The fear of losing your power, or the fear of coming face to face with those you wronged and exiled in person?”
Her mouth twisted. “Do you know what happened here, mortal?” She indicated the dead grass, the empty space around the edges of the liminal space.
Ivy shifted on the spot, her hand on her blade’s hilt. Go on. Kill her. Of all of us, she was the only one who’d actually killed a Sidhe.
“This is the space where the realm of death meets the mortal realm,” the Summer Queen said. “Nobody from the Courts or in either realm can find us unless they know the path’s location. It’s forgotten… lost.” Magic streamed from her hand, above the gates, to the sky. The air rippled, and the ripple passed through me, through the gates I could barely feel here. This place was the fabric holding the worlds together. “This is the end of the line as far as your realm is concerned… in more than one way.”
The implication was clear. As though conjured up from the depths of my memory, I saw a sky afire with magic, dark winged shapes wheeling above, dead turning to life to death again as the ripples shook the world.
The invasion… they started it here.
This was where the horsemen who’d invaded the earth had ripped the realms apart. But if that gate opened, worse than the invaders would escape. Maybe some of the gods had been exiled for a very good reason.
“Don’t open the gate,” I warned.
The Seelie Queen stood beside the gate, one hand on its edge. Too close. None of the others could move to strike her without risking the gate opening and swallowing Mum whole.
“Why do you need her?” Hazel burst out. “The Summer Gatekeeper’s power is the same as any of the Sidhe’s. Any one of them would do.”
“Incorrect. What type of magic is stronger?”
“A vow,” I said. “You can’t be serious. The Sidhe tie themselves in knots with vows every other week. I’m pretty sure enslaving my family isn’t the most powerful or important thing they’ve done.”
“No,” she said. “But it is a vow that links directly to the Erlking himself—and to a gate which might easily be manipulated for another purpose.”
“For what? You want to bring back the monsters you exiled in the first place? Do you think they’ll obey without a fuss, or was stealing their magic once not enough?”
“I never had the chance to steal their magic,” she said. “He kept that from me. Kept it all from me. Lost his magical talismans. He took the throne to take away my power.”
I laughed, mostly in disbelief. “You can’t kill what’s already dead. I can, but you’re not like me. You’re weak.”
Mum lifted her head. Shook it. “No. Ilsa…”
“The mortal wakes,” said the Seelie Queen. “You have no idea what it cost me to win over one of his playthings. In the end, I had to hijack his servant for my own, but this human woman kept outmanoeuvring my plans.”
“She’s a Lynn. It’s what we do,” I said. “If you’re waiting for me to use the book to break open the gates of death, you’ll be waiting a while. You can’t control me or compel me like this. And if you open that gate, there’s an army of Sidhe behind us, wait
ing to arrest or shoot you on sight.”
“Then I suppose it’s time to finish this.” She eyed the gate. “That’s enough of the Gatekeeper’s power.”
A knife appeared in her hand. She lunged, and everyone moved at once.
Hazel slammed into her before her knife hit Mum, knocking both of them out of the way, while a ghost rose from the fog, directly behind them. Ghosts appeared everywhere, half-faeries, angry and staring. Necromantic power hummed through the air, and Morgan’s eyes glowed white. He’d brought them here, or they’d followed me, to see me keep my word.
“You never planned to help us,” they said to the Seelie Queen. “You lied.”
“You pissed off a bunch of people,” I said. “Look and see.”
Her mouth twisted in a snarl. “You pathetic mortals.”
Ivy lunged, her blade spearing the Seelie Queen in the chest. She gasped, her body collapsing, but behind her, the gate rattled.
It was too late. Too much power had gone into it, and the god would break free.
Mum positioned herself in front of it. I knew that look. I’d probably worn it myself when I’d surrendered to the gate.
“You can’t give your life, fool,” snarled the Seelie Queen. “It’s too late. If you don’t let me go, it’ll break out and destroy the line and everything on it.”
“What the fuck did you think would happen?” I shouted.
The Seelie Queen collapsed onto her side. Blood spilled out of her wound, but she probably had healing magic. She wasn’t the biggest threat. A huge indistinct shape beyond the gate hummed with power. It was a living, breathing talisman, amplified to max. Too dangerous to be allowed into this dimension. The gate would break apart.
Mum’s eyes closed and she spoke a single word, a word of power. Everything stilled, even the gate.
“Hazel,” she said. “Are you ready to take on the position as Gatekeeper?”
“Don’t you dare!” she screamed.
“The only way to close the gate is to surrender its magic to the next Gatekeeper.” Her face was set. “It’s the only way to end this.”
The gate… it belonged to our family. When it passed on, it’d be reset. The link to the god’s world would be gone.
The Seelie Queen lunged at her—and smacked right into the Erlking’s staff. He’d caused no damage here, because everything was already dead.
The gate stopped trembling. Mum dropped to her knees, the Gatekeeper’s symbol gone from her forehead.
The Erlking whirled on her. “You—what have you done?” he demanded.
“You come to cast judgement on me now?” said Mum. “It’s too late. You could have stopped her.”
“She’s the one thing I cannot destroy.”
I stared at him. He was touching the Seelie Queen, and she was wilting, but she didn’t die. She must have super-charged healing powers. Holy crap.
“There must be a Gatekeeper.” His eyes brimmed with power. “If nobody steps up to take this power, the gate will be the enemy’s to take.”
“I’ll take it!” Hazel shouted. “I’m the next in line. I accept the position.”
Her forehead lit up, and the circlet glowed with renewed life.
“You fools,” snarled a familiar voice. The Winter Gatekeeper appeared on the path. She looked awful. Her skin was literally falling off, showing the bones beneath. She really hadn’t considered the possible downsides to being Sidhe. The more powerful the magic, the worse effect iron had. An iron knife stuck out of her spine, yet she kept walking.
The Seelie Queen pushed against the Erlking, who held her back with both hands. If he let go, she’d lunge for the gates again. Hazel was unprotected. But nobody could take their eyes off the Winter Gatekeeper’s walking, Sidhe-like corpse.
A word flew from her lips, and everyone fell to their knees. Even the Erlking.
Everyone except me.
I smiled at her. “You just can’t keep me down.”
“Give me that book,” she growled.
“Let me think about that. No.”
At my words, the gates opened behind me, a whirling curtain of darkness. The half-faerie ghosts began to drift through. Morgan grabbed Hazel, while River tightened his grip on my body.
“You should be dead,” snarled the Gatekeeper, her eyes burning pits of electric blue light.
“Here I’m as alive as you are,” I told her. “Or you’re as dead as I am. Take your pick.”
“That book is my family’s by right,” she roared.
“You forfeited that right when you tried to kill my mother.”
When the truce had been put into place after their major argument. I’d been too young to really think about what’d happened, but given what the Winter Gatekeeper had done since, it was plain to see Mum had come up with that story to hide the fact that the other side of our family wanted us all dead.
“Then your friends will pay the price,” she said softly.
Her hands glowed blue, and undead swarmed the path behind her. Reanimated faeries of all types, ranging from redcaps to trolls—all revived, under her control. She might no longer be a necromancer, but she used the corrupt version of Winter magic, which came close to necromancy and blood magic.
My own body climbed down from River’s arms, glowing with the same light. He exclaimed in alarm.
“Don’t you dare,” I growled at the Winter Gatekeeper. Death’s gate remained open, a torrent of roaring darkness beckoning, but even the call of death wasn’t enough for the Winter Gatekeeper this time around. The rising dead glowed with Winter power, even my reanimated body.
River faced not-Ilsa, his whole body trembling. A single tear fell from his eye, tracing down his cheek. His blade glowed bright green, and I knew he was giving his own life force to fuel its power. “Get the fuck away from her or I’ll make you regret you ever came back into this world.”
“River!” I shouted. “Behind you!”
The undead swarmed. Ivy leapt into action, talisman slashing off limbs and slicing throats, a whirl of faerie magic and light. Morgan ducked his head and several undead collapsed, the wraiths that possessed them screaming from the psychic assault.
Summer’s gate stood forgotten. The Erlking’s hands remained locked around his wife’s throat, but she wouldn’t die, and he couldn’t help us. Being able to break everything you touched made no difference when everything was already broken.
The Winter Gatekeeper beckoned to me. “Give me the book and I’ll stop this. Lives fuel life, deaths fuel death,” she said. My reanimated body turned towards River.
Dammit. I am still alive in there.
I drifted downward, pulling all the book’s power into me. The dead faltered, and the banishing words rose to my tongue. I spoke them aloud into the echoing silence, finishing with a single word. The name. Arden’s true name.
The space beyond the gate of Death turned to blackness. The Winter Gatekeeper screamed in fury, magic springing to her hands—pure Winter magic, Sidhe-strong and deadly.
No. I concentrated on my body as hard as possible, imagining the hands moving under my own control. The Winter Gatekeeper’s spell locked around my body in a vice grip. Ice shot from her hands, only to crash into Hazel’s shield. With a hoarse yell, Hazel lunged and threw a handful of iron filings into her face. Aunt Candice screamed, holes appearing in her skin as the iron burned through to the bone.
I raised my ghostly hands, and pulled the book’s power back into myself again, this time reaching not for the gates, but for the kinetic power I’d rarely used. I aimed at the iron shards, and pushed.
The Winter Gatekeeper choked, falling to her knees, as the iron shards left the container in Hazel’s hands, piercing her neck, her hands, her legs. With a final burst of power, I found my waiting body and called the book’s power to fuse me back into mortal skin.
My human hands moved, taking the iron dagger from my pocket and stabbing her in the chest.
The Winter Gatekeeper fell, blood pooling onto the ground.
The glow in her eyes dimmed, and the undead faltered as her magic lost its grip on them. River lowered his blade, catching my gaze, relief etched on his face.
Holly ran up the path behind her, holding a pair of iron handcuffs. She stared around at us, at her mother’s limp body at my feet. The Winter Gatekeeper shuddered, bleeding rapidly, her skin decaying.
“I’m sorry,” Holly said, her voice breaking on the words. She dropped to the ground beside her mother, grabbing her hand as though feeling for a pulse.
Half-faerie ghosts hovered above her, accompanied by the Sidhe I’d thought had already passed into the realm of death. They grabbed onto the Winter Gatekeeper’s spirit as she floated out of her body, staring in confusion.
“Did you really think you couldn’t die in that form?” I said to her.
She let out a scream of rage, but the dead grabbed her, swarming her, dragging her along the path and out of sight. Leaving the living behind.
The Erlking held his wife in a death grip, a grim expression on his face. The gate… wait a second. Summer’s gate had gone. I bloody hoped it was back at the Lynn house where it belonged.
Mum had her arm around Hazel. Morgan stood staring at the fallen dead. And River’s arms came around me in a crushing hug, his tear-streaked face brushing my cheek.
Nobody moved for an instant. Then Ivy shook droplets of blood from her sword. “I don’t know about you guys, but I reckon we need to get her—” She jerked her head at the Seelie Queen—“into jail before someone else starts breaking things. Deal?”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
24
The Erlking took us all back to his territory in a flash of light, still holding onto his struggling wife. Everyone except the Winter Gatekeeper, who he left dead on the path. Ivy stared at the throne and the dead trees with an expression of interest—I hadn’t had time to explain the Erlking’s talisman to her before my impromptu trip into Death, but she’d surely drawn her own conclusions. As for River, he was more interested in keeping as close a grip on me as possible. I had the impression he’d have happily carried me out of there on his own, except someone had to give the explanation to the Sidhe. Mum and Hazel stood close together, while both Morgan and Holly hung back as though expecting someone to throw them out.
The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy Page 65
