Hereditary Power

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Hereditary Power Page 4

by Emma L. Adams


  4

  The forest path looked like any other, until the others filed in behind me, and the gates closed. Then the magic hit me like a jackhammer to the face. Brightness shone from the trees, which seemed a hundred shades of green all at once, ignited by the blazing sun overhead.

  I looked down and saw my clothes had transformed into an outfit similar to Hazel’s. As she turned to check we were behind her, the golden light shining from her forehead damn near blinded me.

  “You all okay?”

  “Sure.” The forest smelled of earthy magic, like River’s own magic turned up to max. He was glowing, too, bright green magic gleaming along the blade of his now-unsheathed talisman. He’d mentioned he carried it openly here, as a show of strength, and with the way he and Hazel stood, hiding Morgan and me from view, it was probably our best arrangement to look powerful and intimidating. Morgan and I, mundane humans without a mark or visible weapon to protect ourselves, were entirely vulnerable.

  Morgan scuffed the forest floor with his heel. “Why am I the only one without shiny special effects?”

  I touched the mark on my forehead. “Crap. The witch spell stopped working.”

  River looked at me, concerned. “The Sidhe likely won’t recognise the mark, but maybe you should hide it.”

  “Might get me confused with Hazel again,” I said wryly, arranging my hair to cover the mark. That hadn’t happened in years, as the magic she’d gained had altered her appearance to mimic the Sidhe. Her hair had lightened to honey blond, glowing in the golden light of her magic, while she tanned easily, unlike me. But it was the way she stood that made my insides ache with a familiar jealousy. She was tall, and strong, and for all the world like a princess or queen marching through her court.

  Here, the Sidhe wouldn’t respect anything less.

  “This way,” Hazel said, striding down the forest path. My eyes watered with the scents of growth and magic, the warm breeze stirred my hair and made me long to run breathlessly through the woods, like a small woodland creature—oh no, I did not want to be a deer. I scowled at everything in the most human-like manner I could manage, releasing a breath when the path ended, opening into a sunny glade the size of a small village. Birdsong drifted on the faint breeze, which was just the right temperature to balance the suffocating warmth. I fought the urge to inhale, pushing aside images of bounding through fields. Bloody magic.

  “Where are we?” I asked quietly.

  “Holdover territory.” Hazel sniffed. “Dicks. If they wanted to speak to us right away, they’d have brought us directly to the ambassadors’ place.”

  Morgan made a strangled noise, arms outstretched. “I can’t fly…”

  “Don’t,” Hazel said. “Someone’s spinning a spell. If you think too hard about the sky, you’ll turn into a bird, and I don’t have time to chase you around.”

  “For me, it’s bounding through fields,” I muttered. “It’s okay. I’ve got it under control. Shouldn’t our shield deflect this?”

  “It’s subtle magic. Some prick doesn’t want us here.”

  She strode into the middle of the clearing. “I asked for an audience with the ambassador.”

  “And you’ll get one.” A man appeared in front of us—no, a Sidhe. If the pointed ears weren’t enough of a clue, the magic pouring off him would be. His eyes glowed bright green, his skin was golden tan, and he wore a regal-looking coat with gold cuffs. He carried a glowing staff carved with runes and entwined with glowing purple flowers. Some primal instinct in the depths of my mind screamed at me that he wasn’t human. I’d almost compare the sensation to my ability to tell whether someone was human or not when in the spirit realm. That same sense recognised this being as more than human. Dangerous. Horribly, murderously beautiful and terrifying.

  Don’t look directly at them, Hazel had said. Oops. My eyes watered, but looking away from the Sidhe would only give him more cause to believe we were pathetic humans.

  “Who are you?” said Hazel. “I asked for Lord Kerien.”

  “He is otherwise occupied. I am Lord Raivan, ambassador for the Seelie Court designated to handle all cases involving humans and half-bloods.”

  He didn’t sound particularly thrilled about his role.

  “You know who I am, right?” said Hazel. “I’m the future Gatekeeper of the Summer Court. Do you even know about the Gatekeepers?”

  “I know of them.”

  Hazel groaned. “We don’t have time for this. Someone’s decided to drain my family’s magic, and I was told the Court has the answers. And can you tell the person trying to turn my siblings into woodland animals to cut it the hell out?”

  All the air seemed to leave the clearing. Hazel took a step back, gasping, and I forgot to breathe. The green magic swirling around the Sidhe lord brightened to a glare, while the impulse to bound through the field was replaced by the instinct to run far, far away and hide.

  “You speak with little respect, Gatekeeper’s daughter.”

  “That’s because your Court sent my mother on a suicide mission,” said Hazel. “Unless she’s here. Where is she?”

  “I have no idea about your mother, Gatekeeper’s daughter. It’s not my job to handle your family.”

  “That’s why I wanted to speak to someone who knows who I am,” said Hazel. “Why’s our magic not working? Isn’t it tied to the Court? Arden said you can help us.”

  His gaze passed along our group. “Some areas of our territory are experiencing a magical drought. Perhaps the same has affected your house. We have yet to determine the cause, but we have every intention of eliminating it.” His tone implied we’d be wise not to mention it to anyone outside the Court.

  “In that case, may I ask your permission to traverse your territory in order to pay a visit to Lord Torin?” said River smoothly.

  The Sidhe looked at River as though he’d only just noticed he were there. It didn’t surprise me. They’d treated me the same for years, and I couldn’t imagine living as a half-blood in this place. At least he probably couldn’t feel the side effects of Summer’s magic as strongly as the rest of us.

  “Do you have permission to visit Lord Torin?”

  “Yes, as I’m his son. Your nephew,” River added.

  Lord Raivan’s mouth tightened and he waved a hand. Immediately, the clearing disappeared, to be replaced by a meadow filled with blooming flowers. I opened my mouth and closed it again. I hadn’t even picked up on the resemblance between the two of them, though admittedly, I was still having difficulty focusing on the Sidhe lord’s face.

  River led the way down a side path between low fences. On one side was a large pleasant-looking house, which he approached through a gate.

  “Your uncle’s nice, isn’t he?” said Hazel.

  River shrugged. “Some Sidhe don’t like being associated with those who have mortal children. He’s better than most.”

  “Because he hates us too much to capture us and put us in cages?” I said, rolling my eyes. “Tell me your father will have something useful to say. He knows where Mum is?”

  “Yes, but only because I told him. However, I was here on his territory when I received the job, so he’s the person most likely to know more about it. This territory is one of the safest places for visitors in the entire Summer Court. At least my uncle didn’t send us through wild territory.” He approached the door and knocked.

  A small creature with bark-like skin opened the door. Wow. They have a brownie. They must be loaded. Not that it was a surprise. In Faerie, magical power meant wealth, and the Sidhe had no shortage of both.

  “Greetings, River,” said the brownie. “And who are they?”

  “The Lynn siblings. The Summer Gatekeeper’s children.”

  “Ah.” The brownie gave us an appraising look. “You wish to speak to the master? He’s in the orchard.”

  “Thank you, Quentin.” River walked into the hallway. After a moment’s hesitation, Hazel followed, with Morgan and I close behind.

  �
�Orchard?” whispered Hazel. “This place is fancy. Is this where you live when you’re here, River?”

  “Yes. Half-bloods aren’t permitted to own land or property in Faerie, so only those of us with family willing to accommodate us are in service to the Court. Several of my half-siblings sometimes live here, too.”

  I’d forgotten he’d once implied he had siblings, because his father was probably hundreds of years old and had doubtlessly been with more than one mortal. As generous as his offer sounded, I couldn’t forget that the Sidhe had intentionally put their half-blood children into a position of inferiority and dependence on their generosity. And mercy. River must have thought working for the Summer Court was worth the indignity. Then again, he had got a free talisman out of it, which were usually off-limits to non-Sidhe.

  We walked through a bright conservatory into the garden, where River led the way to a wooden gate. Beyond, a number of trees bearing fruit that shone in bright shades crowded us. Their strong aroma urged me to pick the fruit and bite into it. I could drown in the smell, which probably meant it’d turn me into a deer. I bit the inside of my cheek, my nails digging into my palms. The smell of apples brought back memories of the half-Sidhe I’d dated as a teenager, who’d seduced me in a grove of his own creation. The memory did a pretty good job of neutralising the effects of the spell, because now I wanted to throw up instead.

  “Don’t touch the fruit,” River said in a low voice. “It tends to have unpredictable effects on mortals.”

  Morgan replaced the apple he’d picked up, then jumped when a tall Sidhe male with River’s pointed ears and fair curly hair appeared. He wore a finely made shirt and trousers, which I supposed was the Sidhe’s idea of casual clothing. Like River, he carried a sword strapped to his side. The weirdest part was that underneath the glowing effects of faerie magic, he barely looked older than River did. Yet he’d likely lived for centuries.

  “Son,” he said to River. “I wasn’t expecting you to return so soon.”

  Ah. Faerie time travel. It’d been weeks since River’s return, but time passed differently here, with mortal years going by in the blink of an eye to the Sidhe.

  “There have been developments in the mortal realm,” he said. “I have brought the Gatekeeper’s children with me, as they have questions they need to ask a trustworthy Sidhe.”

  “Apparently they haven’t heard the stories,” said the Sidhe. “Not a one of us is trustworthy to mortals, and they should do well to remember it.”

  “Didn’t you knock one of them up?” said Morgan. “Or several?”

  “Ignore him,” Hazel said quickly. “I’m Hazel Lynn, the heir to the Summer Gatekeeper’s title. I’m told that you might know where our mother currently is, and who sent her there.”

  “If you came here, my son likely told you her whereabouts himself. The Vale is not a safe place for you mortals, even less than here.”

  “No shit,” Morgan said. “Let’s assume we know the Vale is dangerous and we’re gonna rescue her anyway.”

  The Sidhe turned to him. “Rescue? My son tells me the Summer Gatekeeper seems to be coping admirably in hostile territory.”

  “But our magic is fading,” Hazel said. “We need to find her. It’d help if we at least knew who sent her there. River said she’s visited your house.”

  “Yes, some time ago,” said Lord Torin. “As for the Court’s magic, I heard rumours of a drought, but I can’t say it has reached me here.”

  “So if you’re okay, everyone else must be, too?” said Morgan. I half wished he’d shoved the apple into his mouth after all.

  The Sidhe cocked an eyebrow. “Who exactly are you, mortal?”

  “Morgan Lynn. Necromancer. Means I deal with dead people.”

  I quickly stepped in. “Who might have sent our mother into the Vale?”

  “If you follow her, you’ll likely lose your lives,” said Lord Torin. “But the last person known to have spoken to the Gatekeeper was Lady Aiten.”

  Hazel took a step backwards. “We saw her. Recently. She answered my last request for help from the Court. You mean to say she knew all along? She didn’t even try to answer my questions.”

  She must mean the Sidhe who’d questioned me after the Winter Gatekeeper’s death, one of the three who’d come into the mortal realm.

  “You’re not likely to get answers from any Sidhe by showing up on their doorsteps,” said Lord Torin. “An early death, perhaps.”

  “This concerns peace within the Courts and outside them,” Hazel said. “If the Summer Gatekeeper goes missing, what happens if outsiders attack? The former Winter Gatekeeper attempted a coup once already and nearly destroyed the Courts in the process. You must have heard about it.”

  “Nothing can destroy the Courts,” said the Sidhe calmly. “Do not think I am unaware of your family’s role as peacekeepers. Lady Aiten will be attending an event later today, at the house of Lord Niall. That’s the only time she might agree to speak with you. But I don’t need to warn you of the dangers such events pose for mortals.” He gave Morgan and me a disparaging look.

  Morgan bristled, but Hazel stepped in. “Thank you,” she said. “Any clues about a way to contact our mother would be greatly appreciated.”

  He gave a brief nod of acknowledgement and turned to River. “I warned you not to ask for my assistance in helping humans again.”

  River looked at his father defiantly. “I kept my word. They asked for assistance of their own free will. I assumed the Summer Gatekeeper was welcome on the territory closest to the council on Earth.”

  “The Summer Gatekeeper is, of course,” he said. “Humans, however, are nothing but trouble. Lord Daival is still dealing with the fallout from his… livestock escaping.”

  River’s body stiffened, his hands clenching at his sides. Coldness spread through me despite the heat. Livestock? He was talking about humans. And River looked like he wished he’d decapitated the Sidhe he’d stolen the humans from. I didn’t blame him.

  “You people really do have no souls,” said Morgan.

  Lord Torin turned on him. Magic flashed, and Morgan yelped, jumping backwards as thorns sprouted from his hands.

  “Enough!” River said sharply.

  The thorns vanished, but the Sidhe’s expression remained furious. “Son, you have an open invitation here. So does the Gatekeeper. Not these… others.” His gaze skimmed our group, lingering on me this time. My throat went dry.

  “Sorry!” Hazel said. “We’ve had a seriously rough week, and our mother might be dying. He’s never been around Sidhe—you know what, we’ll go over here.”

  Hazel all but hauled Morgan away, and I made to follow—but a thorny plant blocked my way. I took in a breath. Showing weakness might get me killed, and the Sidhe had apparently picked me out as a target. Lord Torin hadn’t moved, but his magic flowed through every plant in this garden. Sharp thorns gleamed, and fruits dripped deadly juice onto the grass.

  I met his stare, aware that he’d be able to see the mark on my forehead, and would draw his own conclusions about what it meant. It wasn’t like being looked at by River, though they both had the same intensity to their green-eyed stare. Like they were paying attention to nothing else. With the Sidhe, it was outright terrifying.

  “Yes?” I said, relieved my voice sounded steady.

  “You’re not as loud as your fellow humans,” he observed.

  Yeah, that’s because this is awkward as hell. I was kind of dating your son, for a while. Also, I can’t stop picturing you with Lady Montgomery and it’s seriously weirding me out.

  Aloud, I said, “I have nothing to add. We need to find who sent Mum into the Vale. If she’s tethered to them by a vow, they can invoke the same vow to bring her out of the Vale, right?”

  “Did my son tell you that?”

  “I worked it out.” From something River had said, but he didn’t need to know.

  “You’re a perceptive mortal.”

  “I’m choosing to take that as a c
ompliment.” Go on. Mention the mark. You want to. There was no other reason for him to stare at me that intently. I was an unknown element. A curiosity. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to join my siblings and make a plan. Will the person who cast the vow likely be present at this event today?”

  “Many Sidhe will.” He tilted his head. “My son mentioned you.”

  Ah. Crap. I hadn’t thought Lord Torin even knew my name, as I hadn’t told him. But he must have figured it out somehow. Sidhe were way too observant.

  “Yeah, I was the unknown person the Summer Gatekeeper sent him to guard,” I said. “I’m grateful that he helped keep me alive.” What the hell, maybe I could help River regain the respect of the Sidhe… but I doubted so. The word of a human with questionable magic probably didn’t outdo the audacity of setting a bunch of mortal prisoners free.

  “Yes, that mission led him on quite the chase,” said the Sidhe. “Your magic is… interesting.”

  “How do you know? I’m not Sidhe.”

  “No, and yet… that mark. Very curious.”

  “Yeah, it is.” I kept looking into his eyes, knowing he wanted me to look away. River wouldn’t let him hurt me, but depending on anyone in this realm was a risky move. Besides, this man might be less awful than most Sidhe, but he also referred to humans as livestock, and had probably ignored River for most of his life. As for Lady Montgomery? I’d bet that even if they’d parted on friendly terms, the Sidhe didn’t get the concept of paying for child support. I never thought I’d feel bad for Lady Montgomery of all people.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ilsa Lynn,” he said. “You may join your family.”

  Why did I get the impression he’d learned more from looking at the mark on my forehead than I had from our entire conversation?

  “I take it we need to make preparations before going to this Sidhe event,” I said.

  “Naturally. Ask the brownie. I think he enjoys human company.”

  I figured that was probably an insult, but let it slide. I had to get the others alone to explain my plan—and I couldn’t help wondering if the Sidhe would be as keen to refer to us as ‘livestock’ if they realised they were basically long-lived mortals now, too.

 

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