Cold magic lifted me off my feet, slamming me onto my back on the lawn. I rolled over, wincing as icy grass clung to my bare arms, but at least the sensation had momentarily stopped the numbness which had held me captive. A redcap trod on my arm, sharp claws digging in viciously. I cried out and flung the creature aside, but another replaced it as the furious crowd surged in my direction. I threw my arms above my head, staggering, cursing the stupid dress for restricting my movements. Blood trickled down my arm from the redcap’s claws. Magic skimmed over my head, a blast of icy energy veering into the sky. Looked like I was still immune to faerie magic… but the attack hadn’t come from the wraith. One of the half-Sidhe in the crowd had tried to kill me.
They think I’m controlling the wraith. Like they think I’m the killer.
Fury rose within me. I tore at the dress, ripping the bottom clean off. Kicking my shoes loose, I used elbows and knees to push the crowd off me long enough to get back on my feet. Hands grabbed at me, tearing at my clothes, vicious and relentless. The image on the book’s cover swam in my mind’s eye, but its magic didn’t come to my aid. Blood roared in my ears, and my face stung, both with cold and from the beasts which had clawed me.
“Ilsa!” Hazel’s voice screamed from the bushes nearby.
I ducked into the bush’s shadow, beside her, shoved my hand into the bag and my fingers closed around the book.
Sharp claws raked across my chin and I yelled, hitting out, flinging iron filings at the redcaps. Hazel ducked, her hands held above her head to protect herself. “Bloody things stole my knife,” she said between her teeth, kicking out at the nearest clawed assailant.
“I’ve got it.” I removed my knife from the bag and cut left and right, stabbing anything that came near, but there were too many of them to dispel without magic, even if I’d had the skill. The wraith hovered above the crowd like a malevolent shadow, and from the screaming, it’d revealed itself to everyone.
Maybe I needed to get closer to the wraith to banish it, but with the crowd in the way, it was impossible. The necromancers—or Holly—did something to block my magic. The book hadn’t responded to me at all. Like it’d been switched off. It seemed impossible that Holly could even have known about it, but there was no other logical explanation. We were going to die here if someone didn’t think of a plan.
“Gatekeeper,” hissed the nearest redcap. “It’s time for you to die.”
“Like hell.” I straightened upright, holding the container of iron filings. “This is your last warning: back away from my sister.”
The redcaps swarmed.
Chapter 16
I poured a handful of iron filings and hurled them at the oncoming redcaps. They scattered, shrieking, giving me an opportunity to help Hazel free herself from their claws.
“Hazel, climb through the bush!” I shouted at her. “Climb the fence behind it. You can run back to the house that way.”
“I’m not leaving you here with these murderous faeries—”
I shoved my hand through the bush, pulling myself through. Branches scratched at my face and my bare arms, drawing blood, and abruptly, I fetched up against a solid force above the fence.
A barrier surrounded the garden. Invisible, but real enough to touch, and too solid to walk through. Shit. How far does this thing go?
“Hazel!” I kicked the nearest redcap away from her. Both of us were bleeding badly enough to attract a swarm. Worse, there was nowhere to run except towards them, the furious crowd, and the horrible form of the wraith floating overhead.
Hazel swore and kicked out, using her heels as weapons, then magic exploded from her hands, through the bush, striking the fence. It didn’t even budge, and the invisible barrier barely rippled.
“Their magic has sealed us in,” she whispered. “I can’t break it.”
“Me neither.” The wraith couldn’t leave. It was trapped. And so were we. I had to hand it to Holly—she’d thoroughly duped us. It’d slipped my mind that it was possible to lock up the territory to the extent that even ghosts couldn’t get in or out, but there was no other way she could have done it.
The redcaps swarmed again, eager for blood. They didn’t seem to notice the iron shards left cruel welts in their skin and burned their feet. Even my knife barely slowed them, and they fought until they bled out.
“Fuck off,” snarled Hazel, stabbing wildly with her heeled shoes. “Go and eat Holly instead.”
“Hang on, I’ve got it.” I grabbed one of the redcaps and cut its throat, grimacing as its foul blood splashed onto my hand. Then I hurled it amongst its brethren with a shout of, “You want blood? It’s yours.”
They fell on their fallen comrade with screams of delight, and I took the opportunity to pull Hazel out of harm’s way. Magic bounced off our shields, ricocheting into the invisible barrier around the field. Even magic couldn’t escape the trap encasing Winter’s territory within its grasp. Holly was nowhere in sight, but below the wraith, the crowd had cleared. Shock jolted up my spine—those were the two necromancer traitors, right out in the open. I stepped towards them, and there was a flash of blazing lights—necromancer candle lights. A summoning circle, flaring around the edges. With a screaming cry, the wraith vanished in an explosion of light.
The two necromancers stepped back. Shocked silence fell… then applause. The cold breeze died down, the wraith’s presence relaxing its grip. Nobody moved. All attention was on the necromancers, who stood there, basking in it. The candle lights burned bright, then went out in a dramatic flash. The wraith had disappeared entirely. More applause scattered through the crowd.
The necromancer creeps had tried to kill me, and they were being hailed as heroes. And when the crowd recovered from their shock, they’d take us apart.
Hazel gasped at my side, dropping to her knees. A knife stuck out of her chest—her own knife.
Each detail etched itself in my mind, crystal clear. Dark blood staining her dress. The knife’s handle, protruding from between her ribs. Her whimper of pain snapped through my numb disbelief. I grabbed Hazel’s arms, shielding her from the crowd, but I didn’t dare pull out the knife in case it made the bleeding worse.
“Hang on to me,” I told her, and gripped my knife tight. The writhing redcaps turned as one, entranced by the smell of the blood. The only way out was through the gate, and I’d cut down anyone who tried to stop me from getting her out of there.
And then River was there, lifting Hazel out of harm’s way. “I’ve got her!” he said. “The barrier—it’s gone. We can climb over the fence.”
I nodded mutely and ran for the hedge. Of course the barrier would have disappeared now Holly had achieved what she’d planned.
She can’t be dead. Hazel can’t be dead.
I screamed, cutting down every redcap that crossed my path without a care for the sharp claws digging at my own arms, clawing what was left of my dress. I tore branches aside to make a human-sized gap in the hedge, grabbing the top of the fence and pulling myself out of reach.
“Hand her to me!” I said to River, who’d all but disappeared below the swarm, Hazel’s limp body held above his head. I balanced on the fence, taking Hazel’s arms and pulling her after me as carefully as I could manage. River vaulted the fence and took her from me before I lost my balance, dropping to my knees onto frost-coated grass.
“That way!” I pointed down the field. “The fence connects our two territories. We just have to make it to ours and they can’t harm us.”
River lifted Hazel’s body over his shoulders, and we ran. My feet were bleeding, and the scratches on my arms and face continued to sting, but I hardly cared. Hazel. It was my fault. I should have confronted Holly or at least argued that we stay behind, but I could hardly have predicted she’d know about my magic, much less be able to stop it. I didn’t give a crap what the rest of the town thought of us. I just wanted to save Hazel.
Holly… she’d betrayed the peace treaty with our family. But unlike the faerie Courts, we’d n
ever been to war with one another. After all, our own needs came second to Faerie. Always.
Never again. Ever.
On our right, Winter territory ended, its dark forests merging with Summer’s on the territory divide. My heart drummed against my ribcage and my palms were slick with sweat. As we passed by the forest, the icy breeze turned to thick, humid air. But even now, close to home, Hazel didn’t stir. Please don’t let us be too late.
The forest came to an end, revealing our own garden. Rather than circling the house to use the front gate, I climbed over our own back fence, taking Hazel from River so he could climb and join me. Her arm draped over mine, and she didn’t respond when I whispered her name. I swallowed, my throat dry. She’ll live. She has to. She was so pale… and I’d never seen the mark on her forehead so faint. The territory was deathly silent, more so than I’d ever seen it. There was no hint of shimmering magic around the fields or house, no faint humming noises, and even the piskies had gone.
I led the way towards a narrow opening between hedges beside the Summer Gate, to the Inner Garden. As we passed, I couldn’t help scanning the gate in case Sidhe warriors rode through it, but it was as rusty and overgrown with ivy as ever. More of an ornament than a gateway to Faerie. Still, I sent a silent plea to the Summer Sidhe all the same. Please. If anyone can help her, you can.
There I was, praying to the monsters who’d ruined our lives. But what choice did I have? The heart of our family’s magic might lie in the bloodline, but its central point was at the right of the gate, where Summer directly overlapped with the Ley Line. I’d never been through before, because only the Gatekeeper and heir were allowed to get that close to Faerie. My heart thudded as we drew closer—my blood might allow me passage, but River’s probably wouldn’t.
“I have to carry her,” I whispered to River, my voice hoarse. His wide eyes met mine, and he nodded.
I inched towards the Inner Garden, Hazel draped in my arms. I tried not to jostle the knife, but it took everything I had to carry her through the entryway. The space was hardly bigger than our living room, a grassy clearing surrounded by hedges with a pool in the centre. Those waters could heal any injury, Mum said. I’d heard the rumours, but I’d never been allowed in. Shakily, I laid my sister’s inert form down in the pool. Immediately, cool water washed over my hands and covered Hazel’s body. I propped my sister’s head up so she’d be able to breathe, but instinct told me the faerie waters weren’t like a regular pond. I just hoped it’d work.
“What now?” asked River, from the opening to the grove.
“We wait.” I swallowed. “The waters have brought people back from the edge of death before, Mum said. This is where our power comes from.” I’d said our, but it wasn’t true. My power was different. Unknown. And this evening, it hadn’t helped us one bit.
“I don’t understand,” I said, my voice shaking with the tears threatening to burst free. “Even if Holly was happy to break the truce between our families, no Lynn can harm another. Who did this to her? The redcaps?”
“I didn’t see,” he said. “But that weapon—” He dropped the knife to the ground. Carved with precision, stained in Hazel’s blood.
I picked it up, stepping backwards towards River. “It was her own weapon. They tried to—” Tears were streaming down my face, and I couldn’t stop. “This is my fault.”
River’s arm drew around my shoulders. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I knew Holly was a traitor.” I took in a shaky breath. “I didn’t know she’d go to these lengths. And you know what’s really fucked up? The Sidhe won’t punish her for this. They’ll say it’s the product of a family feud. I mean, if one of them—died, it might be a different story. Because there’d be no heir.” In all these years, the heir had always been a Gatekeeper. What Holly had done had trampled on years of history, wrecked the fragile peace between our families, and possibly turned the Courts on one another, too. Hazel had placed herself in harm’s way out of desperation to maintain that peace, not just because it was her job, but to protect me. I’d never considered she might have stuck with the job out of choice rather than resignation.
I stole another painful glance at Hazel. Her eyes were closed, and now the blood had dissipated in the water, she looked like she was sleeping. When I crouched down beside her, I heard my sister’s quiet breathing. The knot in my chest loosened.
“She’s alive,” I whispered.
I climbed to my feet, my body swaying with relief and exhaustion.
“It’s okay,” River murmured. “She’s okay.”
“Yeah.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, shuddering when my gaze caught the redcap’s blood staining it. “It only works on life-threatening injuries. I need to find a first aid kit.”
“Don’t you keep witch healing spells?”
I tilted my head to look at him. “I thought you hated witch spells.”
“I don’t hate them. I distrust their creators, and I think there’s a strong chance one of them was involved in the operation tonight. It was too well put together.”
“There weren’t any witches there.” I attempted to wipe my hand on what was left of my dress, except it’d turned back into my hoody and jeans. As Hazel had promised. “Those necromancers, though…”
“I’ll report them,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve already contacted Greaves with their descriptions, but he still seems convinced the three of us were wandering around the village committing crimes.”
“Great. Add that to summoning wraiths. I can’t believe the crowd fell for that one.”
He frowned at me. “No. What was she thinking with that?”
That I have the book. She knows about Grandma’s magic. But then, why not confront me directly? She’d cut off my power without even trying.
My burning eyes met River’s. “They’re going to pay for this,” I whispered. “I’ll make sure Holly never ascends to Gatekeeper. I’ll ruin her.”
“She can prove she didn’t deal any damage to your sister herself,” he said. “I wish there was proof, believe me, but that performance of hers was calculated to divert the blame away.”
“It was deliberate,” I said. “The wraith didn’t actually attack anyone, did it? But it scared the living hell out of the crowd. Now her necromancer friends look like heroes.”
“Not to me,” River said tightly. “I saw through the veil. They didn’t banish it. The wraith vanished… which means someone close to the house was commanding and controlling it. I don’t think it’ll come here yet,” he added. “There might still be guests in the vicinity. She’ll want to make sure nobody is around when she calls it back.”
“But it makes no sense that she managed to keep it contained. I don’t get it.”
“Because it’s not a physical barrier they used,” he said. “It was a spirit barrier. Essentially, it’s like a summoning circle that covers a wide area—in this case, the grounds of the Winter house. It kept all the spirits inside imprisoned, and prevented anything else from getting in or out. The spirit barrier locks out the veil entirely. Very powerful, dangerous magic.”
But that—that must be why I couldn’t use my magic.
Arden appeared besides us in a flurry of feathers.
“Where the hell were you?” I all but screamed at him. The raven had completely slipped my mind—which made my angrier at myself than at him. “Hazel nearly died.”
“I got caught in that Winter girl’s spell.” The raven’s eyes gleamed with fury. “First it stripped away my glamour, then it trapped me in this form. It’s lucky nobody saw me transform.”
I threw up my hands. “She didn’t care if Mum was there or not, did she? You’re supposed to help us, not fly away.”
“I thought you would have liked me to spy on the enemy,” said Arden. “As it happens, I gleaned some very interesting information. Did you not wonder where the Winter Gatekeeper was?”
“Yeah, for the brief moment before all hell broke loose. Why?”
“What? She wasn’t there?”
Had Holly gone rogue? Or was her mother in Faerie?
“The spell on the grounds was unmistakably necromantic in nature. It appears we have a traitor.” His eyes were on River.
“I wouldn’t be foolish enough to set up a spirit barrier on the Ley Line,” River said. “If it broke or went wrong, it might have been catastrophic.”
“Like that wasn’t catastrophic?” said Hazel, sitting up without warning. “I feel like shit.”
“You’re okay.” My voice cracked. “Thank Summer. I thought—”
“Like I’d die that easily.” Hazel coughed, dripping water everywhere. “Can I get out of this pond now?”
“Only if your wounds are healed.” They had. Even the cuts on her hands and arms had healed up.
Hazel climbed to her feet. Her dress had transformed into regular clothes, too. “I want to sleep for a century. Then I want to kill those redcaps.”
“It was the redcaps, then?”
She grimaced. “They stole my knife, the bastards.” She took it from me, wiping the blood on her sleeve.
“Were they Unseelie, or outcasts?” River wanted to know.
“They stabbed me,” Hazel said. “I didn’t exactly have chance to ask for their names and addresses, did I?”
“Hazel,” I cut in. “You’re soaking wet and you nearly bled to death. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
Hazel stumbled. “God. Does that pond make hangovers worse?”
“Probably,” I said, taking her arm to help her cross the lawn to the house. Hazel stumbled a few times, but she made it upstairs with a little assistance.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice slurring, “but I meant it about the redcaps.”
Hereditary Magic Page 15