“No, it’s a wraith,” Ilsa said. “The mages screwed up the spirit realm when they claimed the Ley Line, so Faerie’s ghosts are crossing over.”
“I’m sorry, did you say that thing is a faerie ghost?”
“Yes, and regular necromancy won’t work on it. I’m gonna have to deal with this one.” Ilsa floated towards the glowing shape in the sky. “Hey, dickhead, over here!”
“Gatekeeper,” said the wraith, in a guttural voice, sending a blast of vivid blue energy in our direction. It bounced clean off Ilsa and hit me instead. I flipped over in mid-air, winded, icy magic tingling in my bones.
“Sorry,” Ilsa said over her shoulder. “Forgot to remind you—it’ll still have the faerie magic it had when it was alive, and I’m immune to it.”
Oh, bollocks.
I’d fought a wraith once before, but all I’d been able to do was hit it with kinetic power from a distance. Granted, I hadn’t known I had Hemlock magic at the time, but I’d be a fool to let my magic anywhere near the Ley Line. Who knew what else might come out?
A bolt of energy blasted from Ilsa’s hands, knocking the wraith back. I moved to her side to help out, but as I did so, my Hemlock magic flared to life with a crackle in my fingertips. Not directed at the wraith, but at Ilsa.
Whoa. I wheeled backwards, cutting an accusing look at Evelyn. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”
“I’m not doing anything.” She floated free beside me, magic igniting in her own hands. “It’s your fault for allying with people who willingly use the magic of our enemies.”
“Ilsa isn’t our enemy, Evelyn.” My hands grew brighter with pulsing magic, drawn like the point of a compass towards Ilsa. Crap. Stop that!
If I got too close to her, my magic might actually hurt her. Evelyn didn't seem to be concerned with collateral damage at the best of times, and she’d been seconds from wiping out the entire mage council during our interrogation before Vance had teleported us out. This time, nobody could drag her away if she decided it was worth the risk of hurting our ally. I alone had any leverage over her.
I grabbed Evelyn’s arm with a firm tug, pulling her backwards. She shot me a furious look, squirming out of my grip. Bursts of light came from below and I dropped my gaze. The wraith hadn’t come alone. Three other glowing spots covered the slope of Arthur’s Seat, and the mages conjured fire and lightning to fight against them. None of them paid me or Evelyn the slightest bit of attention, but Evelyn dropped in mid-air, her gaze fixed on a new target.
I flew lower, too, spotting a familiar sneering face beneath a mop of straw-coloured hair.
Neil Sutherland.
A spasm of hatred shot through me. He’d tried to murder Keir and I’d hit him with my Hemlock magic in retaliation, which had been the final catalyst to the death sentence on my head.
You tried to kill Keir, you bastard.
My hands tingled with power, and I fought the impulse to land a hit on him from above. As he fought the wraith, the swirling currents of the Ley Line rippled inches away from him. Damn, it was too risky. My magic added to a volatile spirit line was like dropping a firework onto a packed street.
Evelyn appeared beside me, taking aim. Magic poured from her hands and crashed into the wraith, sending it reeling back away from its target. Neil’s eyes widened, and Evelyn readied another attack. The spirit line trembled, the flow of energy disrupted.
“Evelyn, don’t hit the Line,” I hissed. “Do you want another faerie invasion?”
“I want him dead,” she said.
A torrent of power left her hands—heading directly for the barrier between Faerie and Earth.
The Ley Line rippled, and I flew into the path of the magic, conjuring a shield. The two streams of energy collided, sending me flying back into the current of energy. I flipped head over heels and managed to still myself, but the battle raged below, undisturbed.
Evelyn whirled on me, her eyes blazing. “You bitch.”
“I want that prick dead as much as you do, but I won’t wreck the Ley Line to do it, Evelyn,” I said. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
Dealing with the Ancients was impossible enough without provoking a war with Faerie on top of that. Evelyn should know better, but her furious magic continued to spark in my fingertips. Below, Neil had resumed his attack against the wraith—and he had company. My whole body went still at the sight of the cloaked figure approaching his son.
Lord Sutherland.
The tall mage moved at a brisk pace for someone who was at least seventy, his long cloak brushing the ground. The wraith turned on him, and a thrill of dark anticipation stirred inside me. Go on. Finish both of them.
The Mage Lord walked right up to the wraith and spoke a word, but the wind snatched it away. An instant later, the wraith turned around and was gone in a flash, as though fleeing a pack of hellhounds.
I remained still, mouth open in disbelief. How did he do that?
Ilsa’s voice snapped me out of my shock. “Jas—we can’t stay here. The boss is coming.”
I dragged my gaze from Lord Sutherland and spotted another cloaked figure below. Lady Montgomery strode up the hill, approaching the Mage Lord and his son. I held my breath, sure she’d look up and see me, but she had eyes only for Lord Sutherland.
“We have no need of your help, Lady Montgomery,” he said to her. “As you can see, we’ve dealt with the trouble.”
“I’m glad to see it,” said Lady Montgomery, in tones that suggested she wasn’t. “We’ve had trouble with wraiths before, so I saw fit to send some of my people out here to check the Ley Line. I trust the extra patrols won’t be a problem?”
“Do what you must,” he said, waving a hand. “I understand that’s your area of expertise… it must be useful, having one foot in both worlds at the same time.”
“Bet he wants the spirit sight,” Ilsa whispered in my ear, having apparently given up on her plan to get out of the boss’s line of sight.
“I suppose,” said Lady Montgomery icily. “I received your invitation this morning. Might I save time by asking you to explain what you wished to discuss with me rather than coming to see you later? I have quite a busy schedule to handle today.”
“Why, of course, Lady Montgomery,” said Lord Sutherland. “I assume you know there’s a certain item which rightly belongs to the mages, and which the guild is known to have in its possession.”
“Really?” Her tone remained as icy as a lake in winter. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mage Lord.”
“Pity.” He shook his head. “Remember all that we have given you. We can withdraw that support just as quickly.”
Lady Montgomery’s shoulders tensed. She glanced up—and I blinked hard, willing myself to return to life.
I took in a deep breath, returning to consciousness in Ilsa’s bedroom. Twelve faintly burning candles came into focus and I twitched my fingers, rubbing my hands together to get some sensation back into them. Beside me, Ilsa straightened upright.
“That went well.” Ilsa stepped out of the circle and started to pick the candles up. “He’s such a slimy old toad, isn’t he?”
“Tell me about it.” I helped her retrieve the candles, my numb hands fumbling. “He’s blackmailing her.”
“Relax, she’s heard his bullshit before,” Ilsa said. “As long as he doesn’t actually use the Ley Line to summon anything, he’s in the clear.”
“Then how did he banish the wraith?” I returned two candles to Ilsa’s bookshelf. “I didn’t see him use magic. He just said a word.”
“An Invocation,” Ilsa said. “I’d bet my talisman on it.”
“What, the name of one of the gods?” A chill raced down my back. He knew one name already—the name of the Whisper. And like in necromancy, if you knew a god’s name, you could summon them. Unlike in necromancy, just saying the word could destroy a person’s mind, body and soul all at once. Lord Sutherland shouldn’t be an exception, but it was hardly the first time
he’d meddled with forces beyond his limited understanding.
“Maybe,” Ilsa said. “What does he think Lady Montgomery has that belongs to him, though?”
“I…” I froze, my hand on the last candle. “Who do the Council of Twelve trust the most? And where’s the safest place in the city to store a dangerous artefact?”
Her eyes rounded. “You don’t think…?”
“I’m almost certain.” The mirror formed a direct link to the realm where the Whisper had come from: the realm of the Ancients. Of course Lord Sutherland would want to get his greasy hands on it after the Council of Twelves had moved it from sight.
“He might have meant some of Lady Montgomery’s textbooks,” Ilsa said. “They’re valuable.”
“He specified one thing at the guild that he wanted, and it sounded like they acquired it recently,” I said. “If the mages try to take the mirror—”
“They won’t, if they have any sense,” said Ilsa.
“They summon and converse with evil gods. They don’t.”
“Fair point.” She frowned. “What do you want to do? Take the mirror ourselves?”
“Can you imagine carrying that thing across the city in public?” I shook my head. “Guess that explains why he was so pissed about the Moonbeam, though. When the mages took the pieces away, they cut off his link to the gods’ realm.”
Aside from the pieces of the shattered Moonbeam, the only path into the other realm was the mirror. Maybe that was why Lord Sutherland’s world domination plans appeared to be on hold, his claiming of the Ley Line aside. He needed to take back possession of the mirror to get what he really wanted.
“What exactly did he say when you eavesdropped on him last night?” she asked.
I thought back. “He mentioned giving the boss an incentive to hand it over. Whatever that means.”
Someone rapped on the door. “Hey, we know you two are back,” said Lloyd. “Let us into your top-secret meeting.”
“It’s not secret,” said Ilsa, opening the door.
“Sure, like I believe that.” Next to Lloyd, Ilsa’s older brother Morgan peered into the room. He had the same dark brown hair and eyes as his sister did and while he’d gradually lost the gaunt, starved look he’d worn when he’d first shown up at the guild from living on the streets, his necromancer cloak still hung loosely on his thin frame. “Go on, tell us.”
“Nothing to tell.” Ilsa stepped out of her room. “Come on, let’s head back downstairs.”
“I’m not going to mess up your stuff, Ilsa,” said Morgan.
“The last time I left my room unlocked, you decided to leave half a zombie on my bed,” she said.
“You put a zombie in your sister’s room?” Lloyd laughed all the way downstairs. “Nice going.”
“Half of one. I couldn’t leave it outside, could I?” Morgan sprawled on the sofa, propping his feet against the cushions. “Anyway, Mackie is being a bloody nightmare. I have to keep hauling her back from wandering near the Ley Line whenever she has a spare moment.”
“Ah, crap,” I said. “What’s she doing that for? Because the mages are there?”
“Pretty much,” he said. “She’s pissed off about Lord Sutherland, and at this rate, she’s going to snap and get herself arrested.”
“I guess she didn’t listen to my last lecture.” Ilsa sat down in an armchair. “I tried talking her out of it, but it’s hard to when she’s right.”
“No kidding,” I said. “This fugitive crap is wearing thin. The mages are going after Lady Montgomery and I don’t think they particularly care if they cause any damage to the rest of the guild in the process.”
“What?” Morgan sat upright. “Nobody told me they were going after the boss.”
“Because we just found out a few minutes ago,” said Ilsa. “You can’t tell Mackie. Not a word. You know why.”
His mouth thinned. “Right, right, I’m the untrustworthy psychic. What made them choose to go after her now?”
“They need something from the guild,” Ilsa said. “The mirror.”
“Oh, shit, that thing?” Lloyd said. “I didn’t know it was at the guild.”
“I’m certain that’s what Lord Sutherland wants,” I said. “That’s why he’s holding back. I bet his resources were left in the other realm, and we took away his means of getting there.”
“And he thinks he can walk into the guild and steal it?” Lloyd said incredulously. “Yeah, no, that’s not happening.”
“He won’t do it himself,” I said. “He’ll send some underlings to try to bribe or threaten her. So we need to get in there first.”
“You mean, us,” Morgan put in. “You’re—”
“A fugitive. I know.” I nodded to Ilsa. “Can you find the mirror and protect it?”
“All right.” Determination gleamed in her eyes. “I think our best bet is to lay a trap. Then we can hand the mages over to the boss, force a confession—”
“And they’ll go right to jail,” Lloyd said. “I’m not on the guild’s rota today, but I can volunteer for something so the boss lets me patrol outside the doors.”
“Won’t the boss be suspicious?” I asked. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever volunteered for an extra mission in your life.”
He stuck his tongue out at me. “Not all of us can be suck-ups.”
“Didn’t do me much good in the end, did it?” I rolled my eyes. “Whereabouts might Lady Montgomery hide an incriminating artefact?”
“In the dungeon,” Morgan said. “She posted guards outside the front, but not the side entrance. It has its own protection, but Ilsa can get through it.”
“You can?” I asked her.
“Yep. Perks of being Gatekeeper.” She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes as though to unconsciously trace the mark that appeared on her forehead whenever she entered the spirit realm. The mark of an Ancient.
My magic almost reacted against her.
It wasn’t the first time my Hemlock powers had been triggered by an Ancient. It’d reacted against the Moonbeam pieces, but it’d never tried to strike down a person before. Both Ilsa and Ivy had talismans containing power belonging to the Ancients, and if my Hemlock magic decided they were the enemy… that could cause problems.
“What about you, Jas?” asked Lloyd.
“I’m going to the mages’ place first,” I said. “It’s not warded against spirits and they won’t know I’m spying on them. I’ll tell Isabel first, though. Oh, and Keir, too.”
Isabel still hadn’t replied to my message about the blood magic symbol on Aiden’s body, but we had bigger problems now. If the mages got back into the Ancients’ realm, they wouldn’t need the witches. They’d have all the power they needed to wipe us out.
6
“You’re mad,” Isabel said.
“I knew you’d say that.” I’d texted her my plan on the walk to the market, where I’d found her waiting in the mouth of the cobbled alley leading to Asher’s shop. Meanwhile, Ilsa, Morgan and Lloyd had headed to the guild to have a look around and see where Lady Montgomery might have hidden the mirror and prepare for the mages’ attempted robbery.
“Asher might be able to help you,” she said. “C’mon, you can ask him.”
We walked down the alley to Asher’s shop. The wooden door lay at a slightly crooked angle, fixed back into place after the zombies and the mages had knocked it off its hinges. Asher had been drawn into our drama entirely by accident when we’d contacted him to identify the signature on the spells the mages had used to control the shifters against their will.
Considering the trouble we’d brought to his doorstep, I didn’t blame Asher for scowling at me when I walked in. He sat behind the desk, resting his elbows on the half-open book in front of him. “I thought you were a fugitive.”
“I am,” I said. “Don’t worry, nobody followed me here. Have the mages been around? They’re not making trouble for you, are they?”
“Not at all,” he said. “They just see me
as a harmless old witch.”
“You’re not that old.” He hardly looked a day over thirty, though there were flecks of white-grey in his short dark hair. Yet despite that, his light brown skin had lost the greyish cast it’d had the last time I’d seen him. The healing magic Evelyn had used had slowed whatever curse had backfired on him.
He grunted. “Pain ages you.”
“You’re still fighting that backfiring spell?” I didn’t quite understand why Evelyn had used her healing magic on him. Sometimes she could be surprisingly considerate… and then on other occasions, she decided to blow up spirit lines and invite angry dragons into the city.
“I’m helping him,” Isabel added. “We’ve been able to make some improvements.”
“This foul stuff.” He waved a small bottle of liquid. “I owe my life to it, mind, but I don’t have to like it. What are you here for, Jas?”
“Did you find out what that symbol meant?” I asked Isabel as much as him. “The one I texted you?”
“Ah.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “Uh, I was going to ask, but… we got distracted.”
Asher cleared his throat. I raised an eyebrow at her but decided I didn’t want to know.
Pulling the scrap of paper from my pocket, I unfolded it. “This symbol.”
Asher took the paper. “What’s this from?”
“It’s the spell on Keir’s brother,” I explained. “I think it’s keeping him in some kind of coma, but I want to check what the symbol actually means before I try to mess with it.”
“Ah,” he said. “Yes, that does look like a binding, but not one I’ve seen before.”
My brief rush of hope dissipated. “You don’t know what it means?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know every symbol, especially the ones that don’t exist in public record.”
“That doesn’t mean no records exist, though,” Isabel added.
Dammit. I’d bet the mages had their own secret book of symbols. Maybe I’d be able to find their resources on my trip into their headquarters.
“All right.” I took the paper back and folded it over. “Got any spells for stealth? Wouldn’t hurt to get a ward neutraliser, too.”
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