The Gatekeeper's Trials: The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “I guess it was focused on me not dying.” I took another sip of the foul liquid. “It still views me as the wielder, for some reason.”

  Not that I couldn’t have reached the waters with Mum’s help anyway, but it’d pushed her away. Like it wanted to protect its owner. Why?

  There came the sound of a key turning in a lock, then hurried footsteps. A moment later, Ilsa burst into the living room. “Hazel? What did you do?”

  “Lord Daival. Thorns. The usual.” I should have figured she’d come here as soon as she saw the disturbance on the Ley Line. “And an attempted necromantic ritual that went wrong. Don’t worry, I dealt with it.”

  “So that’s why there are so many Sidhe on the hill near the village,” she said. “Wait, tonight was that party with the cultists, right?”

  “You’ve got it.” I put the mug down. “The cultists tried to do a necromantic ritual the wrong way, then figured sacrificing me would do instead. I collapsed the tunnel on them and wasted several barrels of perfectly good elf wine. Oh yeah, and Holly was there.”

  “Holly?” said Ilsa.

  I told her everything, from my conversation with Holly to Lord Daival’s attack on our house. Including my utter failure to stop him from laying eyes on the talisman.

  Ilsa remained silent for a long moment. When I was on the brink of drifting off to sleep, she said, “It’s not your fault, Hazel. Like you said… the talisman wanted to make itself known. And now Lord Daival thinks you’re the wielder, he’s going to think twice before trying another direct assault on the house.”

  “He can still target you and Morgan,” I mumbled into the blanket. “He blames our entire family for the Seelie Queen’s imprisonment. And he promised to kill one potential heir every day until I give him the talisman.”

  “It’s a bluff,” said Mum. “From what you said, it doesn’t sound like the sprite gave in and told him the heir’s identity.”

  “He’s still a prisoner.” My gut tightened. “No matter what, innocent lives will be lost.”

  With the Sidhe, ‘innocent’ was a relative term, but I wouldn’t stand for anyone trying to use my talisman as leverage against the Summer Court and its inhabitants. He had no right to play executioner when he didn’t get his way.

  “You can’t do anything about him while you’re resting, Hazel,” said Ilsa. “I’ll tell Morgan, and we’ll be ready for a potential attack in Edinburgh. You focus on what you have to do.”

  “Kill Lord Daival. That was supposed to be the easy bit.” I rested my head against the cushions. “The Sidhe are going to have my head for this.”

  13

  The Sidhe did indeed have my head—metaphorically speaking, anyway.

  “What do you mean, he escaped?” said Lady Aiten, confronting me in the tapestried room the following day.

  “Lord Daival turned me into a human pincushion and left me bleeding out in my own garden,” I told her. “Trust me, nobody's more annoyed about this than me.”

  “Lord Raivan claimed you were certain he’d be at this gathering of rogues,” she said.

  “That’s where I was, until I found out he went after my family instead.” While I’d fully recovered from the thorns, my tolerance for Sidhe bullshit remained below zero. “When I had him cornered, he hopped through the Ley Line and vanished. The cave where the outcasts had their party used to be his hideout, so I don’t know where he went this time.”

  “Did he say nothing of his intentions?” she said. “No mention of the Seelie Queen?”

  “No, but…” I paused. “He told me he plans to kill all the potential heirs to the Summer Court’s throne. One each day as long as he goes free.”

  Lady Aiten’s features tightened. “Then you will find him again, and you will not allow him to escape this time.”

  Easier said than done. That thorn magic had cut straight through my magic-proofed shield, and now Lord Daival knew the location of the Erlking’s talisman, he’d be unlikely to make a second attempt to get into the Lynn house. But there was no sense dwelling on past regrets. I’d nail the fucker next time and make him pay for threatening my family.

  “Also,” she added, “why did you not inform me of your intentions to infiltrate the outcasts’ gathering?”

  “Because I knew you'd blow my cover,” I said. “Did you manage to arrest them all, at least?”

  “Yes,” she said. “They will be put to death along with the other traitors in one day’s time.”

  That meant Coral’s brother would die tomorrow, too. She’d known it was coming, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell.

  “As for you,” she went on, “you will resume your search for Lord Daival and return the Erlking’s sprite to us.”

  Back to square one. “I’ll do my best to, but his cave is buried in elf wine and I don’t have any other leads. Has he been seen in the Court? Because if he’s going to keep his promise and go after the heirs, he’d need to break into Summer. Today, in fact.”

  “We’re watching every passage in and out of the Court, but his own magic allows him to cross into any area of Faerie at any time,” said Lady Aiten. “You must intercept him first.”

  You're asking me to do the impossible. “Why not set up a trap for him here in Faerie? It seems more efficient than traipsing around the Highlands in the hope that we find him squatting in a cave somewhere.”

  “I have given you orders, Gatekeeper,” she said. “Do not fail again.”

  “I’m not the one who let him break out of jail.” The Gatekeeper’s mark on my forehead lit up in response to my growing anger, and its green glow enveloped the room.

  “Do not use your power against me, Gatekeeper,” said Lady Aiten in a soft, deadly voice. “You don’t want me as an enemy.”

  “I don’t want Lord Daival as an enemy, either,” I said. “It’s your Court and your heirs he’s after, and if he figures out you’re using me as a shield, he’ll find a way around it. You can’t run away from this, Lady Aiten.”

  Magic crackled in her eyes, inches from touching me yet unable to do so without bouncing off my shield. “I think you should leave, Gatekeeper.”

  With pleasure. I slammed through the door and found myself nose to nose with Darrow. I hadn’t seen him since last night, so I’d assumed he’d gone with the Sidhe to drag the conspirators back into the Court.

  “Is he really threatening the heirs?” asked Darrow.

  “You were eavesdropping.” I took a step back. “Not cool, Darrow. Yes, Lord Daival threatened to kill the heirs, and yes, Lady Aiten still wants me to take him on alone. Considering I haven't the faintest idea who the heir is, any Sidhe in the Court night be the target.”

  We'd have to get every Sidhe in the entire Court in the same room to stand a chance of isolating the heir and keeping them from harm, which seemed a taller order than Lady Aiten having a change of heart and deciding to do her own dirty work.

  “Has she told the other Sidhe?” he said. “If they found out, she’d have to allow them to have a say in how we approach the issue.”

  “There’d also be a mass panic. Or rioting, considering half of them fancy themselves as the Erlking’s successor already.” There must be a way to get them into the same place without rousing suspicion, right? I twisted my hands, thinking hard. Then I had it. “Throw a party.”

  “Excuse me?” he said.

  “I’ll ask Lord Niall,” I went on. “He doesn’t need an occasion for a celebration. Make it a major event and invite every Sidhe in the Court. We’d have to warn them of a potential attack, so they’re not all totally addled when he shows up, but even his thorns aren’t enough to protect him against a room full of angry Sidhe.”

  Instead of the heir, he’d find himself with a hundred blades at his throat. Once we had him, we’d save both the heir and the sprite all at once.

  Darrow studied me. “You know, Hazel… that just might work.”

  “Glad you have faith in me.” For the first time since I’d been handed the
mission, a current of determination rushed through me. I’d ensure Lord Daival took his last breath without ever revealing the talisman’s location, and I’d save the Erlking’s sprite from any further torture at his hands.

  To start off with, I went looking for my new friend Lord Raivan. As per usual, he paced around the golden meadow near the palace, waiting for any humans who might come to the Court with requests. The meadow’s glow brought a memory to mind—a memory that wasn’t mine, of Darrow’s fascination with the expanse of grass. Now I thought back, I’d seen the same image on the postcard he’d used as a bookmark in his room, too. Okay, time to put your curiosity away, Hazel.

  Lord Raivan gave me an expectant look. “Yes?”

  “I have a question for you,” I said. “Do you know how often Lord Niall hosts revels?”

  “As often as possible, generally,” he said. “Why?”

  I took in a breath. “I got a tip-off that Lord Daival intends to murder one of the Sidhe today. He hasn’t specified who, but I believe he plans to take them unawares when they’re alone. I told Lady Aiten, and she seemed unconvinced that I could get all the Sidhe into one place at the same moment. I think Lord Niall would beg to differ.”

  His gaze sharpened. “You wish to lay the bait for him?”

  “Better,” I said. “I’ll have Lord Niall do it for me. Spread the word among the Sidhe that a vast celebration will be happening today. Say, midday. Just make sure nobody walks alone in the Court before then, because he’s planning on sneaking in and out without being detected. He thinks it’ll frighten you more.”

  “You assume he can best us?”

  “One of you?” I said. “Yes. He has multiple talismans, and he retains his ability to move around Faerie at will. Wouldn’t it be better to force him to confront the entire Court head-on? It’s the opposite of what he wants, and that way, you can give him the beating he deserves.”

  From the glint in Lord Raivan’s eyes, I’d hit the right notes. The Sidhe were proud, but they also enjoyed spectacle and hated traitors with every fibre of their being. The idea of taking out Lord Daival in as public a manner as possible would be a popular one.

  “I agree,” said Lord Raivan. “I will ask Lord Niall to begin preparations immediately, and I’ll speak with you again in one hour.”

  “Sorted.” I grinned. “Good luck.”

  I’d just have to hope that Lord Daival wouldn’t strike before then, but he ought to at least give me a head start. I would be ready for him this time.

  Next, I went through the gate to the Lynn house in search of Mum. I found her in the shed, hammering away at a punching bag.

  “Hazel.” Her fists bounced off the bag. “Did Lady Aiten send you home in disgrace?”

  “No, but I have a plan.” I outlined the details to her. “It’s not perfect, by any means, and for all I know, the heir is more than a match for Lord Daival. But this way, he won’t be able to sneak around and slit throats behind the scenes. The Sidhe will corner him.”

  “And you’re forcing the Sidhe to do the work themselves,” she said, a note of approval in her tone. “How did Lady Aiten react?”

  “I haven’t told her yet,” I said. “She’s so intent on making me be the one to face up to Lord Daival that she’s leaving her own Court members vulnerable to attack. She’ll thank me later, when she’s over the shock.”

  “The celebration will be at Lord Niall’s,” said Mum. “That ought to mean nobody can get through the Summer gate, but I'll ask Ilsa and Morgan to come to the house.”

  “Why?” I asked. “Do you think he’ll ambush you again?”

  “No.” She resumed punching the target. “I intend to be the one to deal the killing blow, and to do that, I need to be at the party. That means someone else will have to watch the house.”

  Oh… kay. There was no arguing with Mum when she was in this kind of mood, so I ducked out of the shed, mentally running through the list of things I needed to do. Wrangling people into line—especially Sidhe, with their tendency to overreact at the slightest provocation—was not in my skillset, but Lord Niall would take care of the location, the catering, the music, and the elf wine. Especially the latter. That left me without much to do except prepare for battle and strap on as many iron knives on as possible.

  I was too tired from the last disaster of a party to face another one, but I at least knew to avoid wearing a skimpy dress this time. Instead, I picked a gold-and-green outfit with built-in armour and strapped knives to my thighs, ankles, and arms.

  When I was checking my reflection in the mirror, Ilsa walked into my bedroom. “What’s this I hear about you organising a party? You’re dressed like you’re on your way to fight a war instead.”

  “That’s because I am.” I fitted another sheathed knife into the cleavage of my dress. “Lord Niall is organising a party as bait to lure in Lord Daival and kill him before he murders the heir.”

  “The heir will be at the party?” asked Ilsa. “I thought nobody knew who it was.”

  “If every Sidhe in the Summer Court shows up, the heir will be among them, theoretically.”

  “Even if it is a trap, you can’t go to a fancy ball wearing armour,” said Ilsa.

  “All right.” I glamoured a dress on top of my clothing, but the glamour refused to stick. “Too much iron.”

  Morgan entered my room behind her, pursued by Pepper, his pet cu sidhe or faerie dog. “Why’re you dressed like an assassin?”

  I reached down to pet the faerie dog, who ran around me in excited circles. “Get out, both of you. You’ve made your point.”

  Five minutes later, I wore my least skimpy dress and as many iron knives as I could realistically fit underneath. Pepper whined and avoided me, which I hoped was a sign that I was wearing enough iron to give Lord Daival a really hard time. The hilt of a blade pointed out of my cleavage and I pushed it out of sight. “I should have just gone with the armour. This isn’t going to work.”

  “Sure it will,” said Ilsa. “You’re just nervous.”

  “Because Lord Daival wiped the floor with you last time,” Morgan said.

  “Oi.” I scowled at him. “Watch it, you.”

  “I’m more concerned the Sidhe will boot you out for carrying enough iron to poison half the Court,” Ilsa interjected.

  I sighed and removed one of the knives from under my dress. “It’d at least stop any of them from dragging me into an unwanted dance.”

  “I thought you liked dancing with the faeries,” Morgan said.

  “Not tonight. Today, I mean.” This party was all business. I couldn’t fail this time. “The Sidhe might not know Lord Daival’s coming, but I do.”

  “You didn’t tell them?” he said. “You sure they’ll be sober enough to fight, or do you expect them to just throw him into a wine barrel and be done with it?”

  “That would work,” I said testily. “Morgan, stop poking holes in my plan.”

  “What?” He picked up Pepper, who’d started to growl at the knife I’d dropped on the floor. “You told me to come here. Mum said you need both of us.”

  “To keep an eye on the Erlking’s staff,” I said. “And watch out for wraiths, who are apparently Lord Daival’s new BFFs.”

  “Are you sure he won’t come here again?” Morgan adjusted his grip on Pepper. “Because I can deal with ghosts, but not freaky thorn magic.”

  “I doubt he’ll risk attracting the talisman’s wrath,” I said, “but if I don’t do this, the heir dies today. Probably the Erlking’s sprite, too. On top of that, Lady Aiten will have no choice but to reveal the truth to the other Sidhe, and all hell will break loose.”

  In short, the perfect opportunity for Lord Daival to sneak into the jail and set the Seelie Queen free to claim the Erlking’s throne.

  Ilsa’s expression clouded. “What do the Sidhe think of your plan? And Darrow?”

  “Darrow was fine with it last I heard, but he doesn’t know it’s today,” I said. “I told Lord Raivan to put the idea in Lor
d Niall’s head. Lady Aiten is the one who forced me to go after Lord Daival alone, so it’s not my problem if she doesn't like my methods.”

  “No kidding,” said Ilsa. “Are you okay? After those thorns, I mean?”

  “I'm good. I'm more concerned with the fact that he saw the staff.” If he mentioned it in front of anyone at the Court, I’d be royally screwed, but what else could I do? If I claimed the talisman again, the Sidhe would exile me, and besides, I wasn’t convinced it’d let me go this time around.

  Morgan glanced over at the window. “Have you moved it?”

  “I can’t,” I said. “Nothing can contain that thing except the waters of the pool in the grove, and not forever. Their magic is already weakening.”

  Ilsa’s eyes widened. “You never said.”

  I shrugged, wishing I hadn’t brought up the subject. “That’s because I’ve been bouncing from one crisis to another ever since I became Gatekeeper. Your job is to stop anyone sneaking through the gates while Mum and I are at the party. We’ll deal with the rest later.”

  I was well aware that ‘later’ kept being pushed further and further into the future, but even claiming the talisman wouldn’t stop Lord Daival from killing the heir, considering nobody knew the identity of his target. I’d let the Sidhe take him out and wash my hands of the matter before considering the talisman’s fate.

  My plan had to work. I’d make sure of it.

  14

  Half an hour later, what seemed like the entire Summer Court filled Lord Niall’s estate. I’d left Ilsa and Morgan at home with a stack of instructions, while Mum had talked me into asking Lord Raivan to move the Summer gate closer to Lord Niall’s house to layer the bait for Lord Daival.

  You wouldn’t think the whole event had been put together at the last minute. Faerie music filled the air, flipping from melancholy to joyful, while magic shone from every bright flower and glittering fountain. The Sidhe danced with abandon, the elf wine flowing freely, and none showed any signs of the revel being an elaborate trap to lure in an escaped convict.