Nope. You just omitted information. But re-treading the same arguments would get us nowhere.
“Mum knew about the book,” I said. “Either Grandma told her, or—hell, she knew Great-Aunt Enid. That must be it. But she didn’t know it’d choose me.” My head hurt. “Was it Summer who destroyed my house after all? Or Holly’s people? She didn’t want me to get hold of the book. Arden, though…”
“I think he did want you to get hold of it,” said Hazel. “He didn’t want a war, no more than we did.”
I sighed. “Yeah, well. Looks like we might be getting one either way.”
3
Despite my exhaustion, being in the same bedroom where I’d once been attacked by a wraith didn’t encourage restful sleep. After waking from my seventh consecutive nightmare, I walked downstairs to find Morgan sitting in front of the blank TV screen, like he used to do when I couldn’t sleep as a kid and came downstairs to find him wandering drunkenly around after being kicked out of the village’s only pub at midnight.
“Hey.” I sat down at the other end of the sofa, pulling Grandma’s old hand-knitted throw over my legs to warm them.
He grunted. “This place hasn’t changed at all.”
“It’s run by the Sidhe. They don’t like change much.” It must be seriously weird for him to be back at the house, even with Mum absent. I looked out the window, spotting River sitting on the porch. He’d accepted Hazel’s offer of a guest room and then gone outside to act as bodyguard anyway, apparently.
“Not for long,” he said. “The Sidhe don’t give a crap what happens to us, even Mum.”
“I know that,” I said. “God only knows why they sent her into the Vale, if not to avoid putting their own lives in danger. We’re immune to magic, not wraiths, or skin-eating faeries, or—”
“Stop it,” he said. “Knowing that won’t change anything. She can survive it. We might not.”
His tone was such a total contrast to his usual bravado that I stared at him. “What, you seriously don’t think we should go after Mum?”
“Frankly, I think she’ll toss me out of the Vale herself.”
I shook my head. “No, she won’t. Not when she finds out we single-handedly saved Edinburgh. Give it a chance.”
“I don’t think so.” He paused. “Might be this new power, but I get the feeling I’m supposed to do something else with it. Something in this world, not Faerie. Same with you. That talisman of yours isn’t faerie-made, is it? Humans made it. Our ancestors.”
I couldn’t get used to Morgan speaking coherently, let alone making so much sense. “Guess it’s true, but the Sidhe gave us this magic, and it’s their symbol on the book. They were definitely involved, even if it isn’t their magic.”
“Yeah, that part makes no sense. You can’t trap necromancy in a talisman… can you?”
“If I knew that, I’d know how they do it to Summer and Winter magic,” I said. “I don’t think it’s true, though. Summer and Winter Sidhe… their own life is effectively tied to their talisman. If they lose their talisman, they’re weakened. But that’s because their power comes from the talisman. Necromancy—if anything, it comes directly from the spirit world.”
Which meant there was a good chance it wouldn’t function in Faerie at all. River had said it wouldn’t, back when I hadn’t known that was the type of magic I had. Shit. That could cause problems. It shouldn’t surprise me that death magic didn’t work in a realm where nobody died, but the Sidhe could die. Which meant their immortality had never been permanent to begin with.
Morgan cleared his throat. “You should know… Hazel went out earlier.”
“What do you mean, ‘earlier’? It’s barely light outside.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the window. “Think she went to the grove, but she told me she’d throw me over the fence if either of us tried to follow her.”
“Dammit, Hazel.” She probably would, too. Unlike the two of us, Hazel had had personal combat training from experts used to going up against faeries and could throw a man twice her size over her shoulder. Losing her magic had hit her pretty hard, and she was probably taking the house’s magical drought as a personal insult.
“She’s fine, Ilsa. Oh, and your faerie’s awake.”
“He’s not a faerie. Or mine.” My gaze went to the window before I could stop myself, to be greeted with the view of River just out of sight, blade in hand, cutting down invisible enemies. He moved so swiftly and gracefully, it was impossible to see him as human. Morgan snickered, and I glared at him.
“Don’t let me stop you admiring the view,” Morgan said.
I threw a cushion at him. “I’m going to make coffee.”
After an appropriate amount of caffeine, I felt a little better, even though it looked like the only food we had in the house was stale bread and leftover takeout. I skimmed through the talisman book to avoid looking at River. The curtains were partially drawn and he probably didn’t know I could see him. That, or he was tormenting me on purpose with memories of his hands on my bare skin, his muscular body pressed against mine. And lying about my mother the whole time.
“I’ve never seen you mope over a guy before,” Morgan observed.
“I’m not moping. I’m reading this book.”
“You’re projecting like hell.”
I backed away from him on the sofa. “Stay out of my head, Morgan. I thought you had the mind-reading thing under control.”
“I do. You’re the one whose mental shields are totally screwed. You kept waking me up with your wraith nightmares all night.”
“I’m not psychic. Aren’t you wearing the iron band?”
“It fell off while I was asleep.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can pick up on you and Hazel, just nobody else. Oh yeah, and she’s back.”
The door slammed open and Hazel stomped in from the hall, dripping melting snow all over the floor.
“Are you okay?” I rose from my seat, alarmed.
“Obviously.” Hazel kicked her shoes off. At least she could walk in a straight line today.
“What were you thinking?” I said. “If those redcaps were still around—”
“They weren’t. No evil Aunt Candice, no monstrous redcaps. I don’t think Holly even has servants. Pity that. No wonder Arden was hanging around to keep her company.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Told me to piss off,” Hazel said. “I went for a look at the Winter gate.”
“And?” said Morgan.
“And her magic’s working. Ours isn’t. I don’t get it.”
“Mine works fine,” River said, entering the room behind her. “But my source isn’t tied to this house.”
No. It’s in your talisman. Which must be hidden close by, since he wasn’t carrying it. He’d clearly just showered, his blond hair damp and falling into his eyes, and he’d changed from his necromancer coat to a light shirt and trousers that looked faerie made. He’d effortlessly switched from necromancer mode back to faerie mode, and once again, I couldn’t help observing how easily he seemed to fit into both worlds.
“Neither is mine,” Hazel said. “It’s from the Court.” She touched the mark on her forehead, biting her lip. “If anything happened to Mum, it’d get stronger, not weaker, because I’d inherit the magic. The circlet is still clearly marked as hers.”
She’d been wearing Mum’s spare one for weeks, but even the heir’s magic had nothing on the Gatekeeper’s. Worry grew inside me. If Mum was losing her power in a similar way, did that mean she was more at risk in the Vale? We need to get her out. But to do that, we needed—
The window blew open and Arden flew in, a scroll clamped in his beak. He landed on Morgan’s head, who yelled in alarm, wildly snatching at the raven. Arden let out a caw of laughter, and took flight again.
Morgan swore, shaking his head. “Damn bird.”
“The ingratitude,” said Arden, landing on the bookshelf and spitting the scroll into Hazel’s hands. “You have per
mission to meet with the Seelie messenger at the gate.”
Hazel scanned the parchment and looked up. “Genuine. Do the messengers know what’s going on here?”
“Caw. Only one invitation to Faerie. I’d advise you to take it. Walk to the gates by noon, or lose your chance.”
Hazel looked at me. “The messengers… they’re usually fairly clueless about secret Court matters. Whenever I went to the Court with Mum, I’d stay with one of them. So at least I know that part of Faerie. I’d guess River does, too.”
“Your family?” I asked him.
He nodded. “I can’t say they’ll know any more than we do about the mission your mother was sent on, but I can ask.”
“Who did send her there?” I asked.
“She wasn’t able to tell me,” River said. “The vow she was under was typical of any Sidhe one, and I can’t say I know who’d have the motive to send someone into the Vale. If I’d known what exactly she was looking for, I might have been able to guess.”
I sighed. “Then we’ll find the person in charge of the family curse.”
“Lord Kerien is the messenger who deals with humans,” said Hazel. “I know a few other names, but I won’t get a proper introduction until I ascend to Gatekeeper. And… well. There’s the slightest chance that they’ll refuse to speak to anyone except me.”
Of course, the rest of us were effectively invisible to the Sidhe most of the time, and even River hadn’t been able to convince them that the wraiths posed a threat to the Court. Then I’ll make them listen to us if I have to. The Sidhe might have an irrational hatred of mortals, but they’d sit up and pay attention if they realised just how much danger they’d been in when the Winter Gatekeeper had attempted her coup. We’d yet to see the fallout from that, and I was kind of curious how much information the messengers had passed on to the rest of the Sidhe.
“The summons does lead right into the Court, doesn’t it?” I asked. “I’m not wandering around Summer’s forest.”
No human with any sense would wander outside of the main Court into the notoriously bloodthirsty borderlands. Admittedly, the Court itself was no better, since the Sidhe were more likely to turn humans into deer or make them into servants. Unfortunately, while most magic bounced off the Lynn family’s defences, the powerful magic of the Summer Court might be an exception. Even the Sidhe themselves weren’t entirely immune to its effects. Otherwise they wouldn’t be able to kill one another.
Shit. Did they all know they could die for real now? Ivy Lane had known, and she was human, but heaven knew how she’d stumbled across that information. I wouldn’t be bringing it up unless I knew for certain.
“Apparently, we just walk through the gate,” Hazel said. “I assume we’re all included in the invitation.” She looked at Morgan first, who scowled.
“I’m not staying behind,” he said. “Don’t you—”
“I wasn’t,” Hazel said. “But… remember everything Mum said about the Sidhe. If you were listening. I’m Gatekeeper-in-Training, which means they have to treat me with some level of respect, but the same doesn’t apply to any other human.”
“We’re magic-proof,” said Morgan. “It’s fine. I have been there before, remember?”
So had I. Most Gatekeeper events were restricted to Mum and Hazel only, but all three of us had attended the ceremony in the Summer Court shortly after Hazel’s magic had awakened. I’d been twelve at the time, while Morgan had been fourteen. Thanks to the haze of magic in the ceremony, all I remembered was a lot of flashing lights, and a total sensory overload. Which pretty much summed up Summer.
Hazel gave Morgan a look. “You nearly caused an incident by jumping into the fountain to chase mermen, if you’ve forgotten.”
“Ah.” He grinned. “Yeah, I forgot.”
“And Ilsa stared at the orchestra for twenty minutes until Mum dragged her away.”
“I did? I don’t remember much.”
“Faerie music does that.”
I grimaced. “Okay. Maybe we should add earplugs to the packing list. Are we allowed to carry iron?”
“Technically, no,” Hazel said. “Not in visible weapons, anyway. A jar of iron filings, you could probably get away with as long as you don’t spill it.”
Morgan looked at River. “So you’re allowed to carry your sword?”
“It’s faerie-made,” he said. “Does your mother have any faerie-made weapons?”
“No, she probably took them with her,” Hazel said. “Witch spells don’t work there either. But it’s okay. I have my magic.”
I won’t. The book shifted in my pocket as though in protest. I’d have to bring it with me, and hope I wouldn’t be punished for carrying a non-Sidhe talisman.
“Then let’s move.” Hazel made for Mum’s workroom, and I did likewise. Salt and iron filings didn’t feel like particularly useful weapons, but who knew, maybe my necromantic magic would work. It wasn’t like the book carried the usual type of necromancy.
“Are we supposed to dress up if we’re visiting royalty?” asked Morgan, indicating his T-shirt and faded jeans. Neither of us had any faerie-made clothes like River and Hazel did. Both of them wore knee-length coats embossed in green and gold, the colours of the Summer Court. River could easily pass as minor royalty. Given the tangled family trees of Summer’s royals, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was a direct descendent of the Erlking. Fear clawed its way up my throat. I didn’t belong in Faerie. They’d know that, and they might well target me for it.
“Chill,” said Hazel. “Once we’re through the gates, I’ll throw a glamour on both of you. River’s wearing one.”
I shoved my fear into a dark corner. Mum. We’re doing this for her. And they don’t know I’m Gatekeeper. My talisman was equal to theirs, easily. It glowed faintly in my pocket, almost like it wanted to reassure me.
Hazel approached the gates. Tall and overgrown with ivy, it looked like a metal gate from a distance until you got close and saw that the spikes were actually made of sharpened tree branches, almost grown out of the forest itself. A curtain of moss grew all over it, giving a neglected air, but the same symbol as the one on Hazel’s forehead topped the gate, gleaming faintly. My heart beat faster against my ribs.
“Before we go,” Hazel said, “let’s cover some pointers. Don’t look directly at the Sidhe. Don’t speak unless you know for certain they won’t retaliate. Don’t do anything reckless, or wander off alone… anything else?”
“Yes,” said Morgan. “Are we allowed to mention the Vale? Because that’s our goal in all this. We find out where Mum is, and get there.”
“Only a Sidhe can,” River said. “We’d need to have a Sidhe actually accompany us into the Vale if we went there, and the odds of finding a volunteer are slim to none.”
“So you went there with a Sidhe?” asked Morgan.
“No, I went there on the word of a vow,” River said. “Your mother sent a message to my father requesting assistance, and I chose to take the job. Once I accepted the agreement, the vow activated, and I was transported into the Vale.”
Damn. A chill raced down my back. Vows… despite our family curse, I hadn’t had nearly enough experience with Faerie’s most deadly and unforgiving form of magic. A single word could throw you around like a puppet on strings.
“So you went into that place alone?” said Morgan. “See, it is possible to survive there.”
Hazel turned to River. “So you saw Mum, and then—left?”
“She ordered me to leave,” River answered. “I understand it looks like I left her to die there, but she told me only to protect the Gatekeeper’s heir. Then she ordered me to return to Faerie and go to your house immediately. My vow kicked in, and I was pulled back into Faerie before I could do anything more.”
“Did you tell anyone?” asked Morgan suspiciously. “In the Court?”
“Obviously, I told my father I had an assignment in the mortal realm. I had no other assignments, so they didn’t ask too many questions about
it.”
“I thought your skills were in high demand,” said Hazel.
River scowled. I knew what he was thinking—the Sidhe had never taken the threats of the wraiths seriously no matter how many times he warned them.
“The Sidhe and I had a slight misunderstanding a few months ago,” he said. “Not enough to get us thrown out, but if you hear the name Lord Daival, stay far away. He’s the client who was keeping humans in cages, and he didn’t like that I freed them.”
“No way,” Hazel said. “Humans? You actually set humans free from a Sidhe?”
“He’d hired me on a job and didn’t give me specific instructions not to go near them,” said River. “I wasn’t about to leave them there, but since it was my father who helped me smuggle the humans out of the faerie realm, he’s likely to be displeased about me bringing you with me.”
Ah. Crap. Should have figured even the Gatekeeper would have trouble finding allies in the faerie realm. River was seriously lucky he hadn’t suffered worse punishment. Like exile.
“If he won’t kill us, that’s a step above most Sidhe,” said Hazel. “And—wow. I can’t believe you did that. Who is your father?”
“Lord Torin,” River said. “If not for his connections with the human councils in this realm, I doubt I could have got away with it.”
“No shit,” said Hazel. “It’s not actually legal to keep humans as prisoners, but nobody ever bothers to enforce that rule. You hear that, Morgan? Be careful.”
“Got it,” he said. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“You’d better.” Hazel approached the gates. A golden glow lit up her forehead, and the plants growing on the gates awakened, also glowing with green Summer magic. Light spilled across the path, and the gates opened with barely a whisper.
A leafy path beckoned, flanked with tall trees. I took in a deep breath, and went after my sister into Faerie.
Hereditary Power Page 3