Hereditary Power

by Emma L. Adams

  “Hmm.” I slid out of bed. I still wore my faerie-made clothes, though my glamour had long since faded. “Is there a shower here somewhere?”

  “In there.” He pointed to the en-suite bathroom. “No hot water, I’m afraid. Only the Sidhe have that luxury.”

  “I’ll survive.” The room was fairly cool, but the sun outside the windows indicated another scorching day.

  The shower looked suspiciously like a human creation except without temperature controls. What did the Sidhe do, hop over the Ley Line to swipe the humans’ inventions and then replicate them with magic? It wouldn’t surprise me if they did. They hated us coming here, and had put even River into a position of inferiority, but I’d bet everything I owned that they’d expect to be treated like royalty in our place. They’d come over to the mortal realm and left us to clean up their mess, while even the lesser nobles here lived like kings.

  The soap smelled of flowers. Big surprise there. I wondered if Winter’s equivalent smelled of ice and despair, and decided I didn’t want to know. After dressing in more faerie-made clothes—which, to be fair, were somehow both comfortable and flattering at the same time—I found River waiting outside.

  “The others are in the conservatory,” he said. “We have food that won’t have adverse effects on humans.”

  “Thanks.” I tugged a hand through my hair, which was still hopelessly tangled. “How long have we been here?”

  “You’ve been unconscious for about twelve hours.” He walked into a side room, while I spotted Morgan sitting in the conservatory.

  “Hey,” I said, scooting over to join him. “You okay?”

  He scowled. “Bloody faerie water. I didn’t have one drink and I feel like shit.”

  “Yeah.” I collapsed into the chair next to him. “Where’s Hazel?”

  “No clue. Thought she was with you.”

  “No…” I frowned. “It’s not like her to go wandering off. I was going to suggest finding someone else who might know what the hell happened yesterday. There was a traitor, or a necromancer, right there at the party. Did you sense anyone?”

  “No. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  I sighed. “I don’t blame you, but a Sidhe? Really?”

  He grinned. “I just wanted to see if they’re as good as everyone says they are.”

  “What’s the verdict?”

  “Yeah, they are. Dicks.”

  I snorted. “Well, they certainly did a great job screaming and running around like headless chickens. You’d think they’d never seen a ghost before.”

  “They hadn’t,” River said, returning with a platter covered with faerie food—homemade bread, cheese, fruit. “They were lesser nobles. I’ve passed on my concerns to my father about the presence of a traitor, but the guests have long since departed. I doubt you’ll be able to get into the inner Court with the added security.”

  “We’ll see what Hazel says.” I picked up a grape and bit into it. “How many days have we lost at home?”

  “I don’t know, but probably less than a week,” said River, helping himself to a handful of grapes. “I wish there was an accurate way to check. I lost six months the first time I came here.”

  “Bet Lady Montgomery loved that,” said Morgan through a mouthful of bread.

  I tensed, ready to tell him to stop winding up River, but River himself didn’t look particularly bothered. “She knows Faerie. I did warn her.”

  “How long have you lived here?” I asked.

  “It’s difficult to measure in our time. I’ve worked for the Court in some capacity for four or five years, but I was first invited here at eighteen. My father…” He paused. “He offered me the talisman as a gift, and it chose me. A good job it did, because we were attacked by borderland outcasts on my first visit. The Court offered me a job in exchange for helping them.”

  “That’s how you got into bodyguard duty?” I asked. “I remember you mentioned the borderlands once.”

  “Most of my tasks weren’t that high-risk. I was usually asked to safeguard magical objects or escort lesser fae through the outskirts of Faerie.”

  “So do you prefer that or dealing with the dead?” asked Morgan.

  “I don’t have a preference,” he said. “I worked at the guild for longer. Your sister’s back, by the way.”

  Hazel came into the conservatory, her expression distraught and her face pale. “The circlet… the light went out.”

  The light on her forehead had faded, and no green or gold glow surrounded her. Her magic had gone.

  An icy chill spread down my spine, masking the warmth of the room.

  “Shit,” I said. “Is Mum…?”

  “It doesn’t mean the Gatekeeper has died,” Hazel said. “Someone’s taken the gate.”

  “What?” I stared at her. “The gate here? Who?”

  “I don’t know, do I? I can’t open the gate without the bloody circlet,” Hazel said.

  River swore. “If your power’s tied to the Court—I’ll ask my father if he might be able to help.”

  He glided out of the room. Oh, boy. River had had to ask for more than enough favours on our behalf already, and it wouldn’t surprise me if the Sidhe kicked us out by this point. The idea of the house being compromised… it wasn’t thinkable. I had to do something.

  “How can anyone have got into the garden?” Morgan asked. “Don’t we have defences everywhere?”

  “Not on the gate,” Hazel said. “It’s supposed to be a defence force all by itself, because its run by the Court’s magic.”

  “So it died because the Court’s magic is fading?” asked Morgan.

  “If they have the gate, they have the house,” Hazel said. “Mum has things in the house which I do not want anyone else getting hold of.”

  Hope it’s not Holly. But Holly, we could handle. Ghosts couldn’t take over a house, so who else might be attacking? Even most Vale creatures didn’t have the intelligence—or the access, considering how well the house was hidden.

  River ran back into the room. “There’s still a link to your house from my last mission. We can leave through the garden.”

  “But can we come back that way?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “No. I wish we could. I’ve asked my father to keep an eye on the Court and send a messenger to me if there’s trouble, but his brownie has left on a mission for the council. You’ll have to find another way back.”

  Leaving would put our quest to rescue Mum on hold—but if we let anything happen to the house, the Gatekeeper’s entire position might be in jeopardy. Hazel’s expression mirrored mine, and she must be feeling it worse than I was—after all, she would have done anything to fulfil her role as Gatekeeper. But when that goal clashed with keeping us safe, she’d go against it up until the point where her vow to the Court made it impossible.

  “It might be a mistake,” I said consolingly. “The gate leads back here anyway, if it turns out it’s still there. Has anyone ever taken it before?”

  “No,” Hazel said, biting her lip. “That’s the thing. It leads directly here. How many of our enemies need a direct route into the Summer Court?”

  “We need to leave,” River said, reappearing. “There are people at the door asking questions about the events at Lord Niall’s party yesterday.”

  “Shit,” I said. “The last thing we need is to be hauled off for questioning.”

  Actually, the last thing we needed was for some unknown villain to hijack the gate into the Summer Court while the Gatekeeper was potentially held captive in the Vale, but the universe wasn’t inclined to let any of us catch a break lately.

  We crept out of the conservatory, between thorny plants, until we were safely out of sight of the house. Then River paused, looking up at the sky. “Here…. I can sense the vow.”

  I didn’t sense anything except the smell of faerie fruit and flowers, and the scorching hot sun burning my skin through my clothes. There was a whole world of magic cut off from me, and to be perfectly ho
nest, I’d prefer to keep it that way. But was the talisman book so different? What it’d done to me yesterday—it wouldn’t have stopped if I’d died. The void would have continued opening to swallow this realm whole.

  River said, “I’m crossing over. Get behind me.”

  There was a flash of white light, and immediately, we stood on another lawn, one with rotting grass beneath a grey sky. Dead plants, decay, and…

  “The house is still there!” Morgan said.

  “It looks… normal,” Hazel said, confusion furrowing her brow. “Nobody’s inside. I don’t get it.”

  I frowned. The Summer Lynn house stood the same as usual, down to the curtains of ivy growing on the walls. But beyond, the country road… didn’t look right. No forests were behind it. Only fields of heather, and beyond, darker shapes silhouetted against the sky. Mountains?

  “Guys,” I said. “Look at the road. I don’t think we’re attached to the Ley Line anymore.”

  The house stood where it used to, countless years before someone had used a spell to detach it from the mortal realm. The Winter estate was nowhere in sight.

  “Look on the bright side,” Morgan said. “We’re not homeless.”

  “Speak for yourself.” I stared at the cloudy sky. “You know, we can’t access Winter’s house from here. Or anywhere else on the Line.”

  “Or open Paths,” said Hazel. “Oh, shit. We’re stranded.” Her gaze fell on the forest behind, which had once led to the Winter estate on the other side. There was no sign of Holly’s house at all.

  “Damn,” I said quietly.

  Summer’s gate had vanished.

  8

  We looked around at the garden, the sky, the impossibly normal Highlands… and the missing gate. Not to mention the other Lynn house. Had Holly even noticed anything was wrong? Or was she somehow responsible?

  “There are worse places to be stranded,” I said, but I didn’t really believe it. Someone had stolen the gate. It shouldn’t just vanish. “Hazel, isn’t your magic working at all? Can you sense the Ley Line?”

  “I could never sense the Line. It was just… there.” She removed the circlet from her forehead, her hand shaking and her lip trembling. She was on the verge of tears, which meant using one of us as a verbal punching bag. I didn’t particularly want to be on the receiving end.

  “Great,” Morgan said. “I never gave a flying fuck about the house and even I know it’s bad news that we’re marooned in the middle of nowhere.”

  “At least we’re next to the village, not on top of a mountain,” I said. “This area’s pretty free of wild fae, too. Probably because of Mum. Or Agnes and Everett.”

  “Aren’t we right next to the graveyard?” asked Morgan.

  “Our family mausoleum’s closer.” My throat went tight at the thought of Grandma. I’d never see or speak to her ghost again. “We can go to the village. Nothing escapes Agnes. I want to know how she got to Edinburgh from here.”

  “Flew, probably,” Morgan said. “Wasn’t there a rumour that she has a pet dragon?”

  I rolled my eyes. “She might know who took the gate.”

  “Or Arden.” Hazel walked off. “Hey, Arden!”

  No response came. The raven seemed to come and go whenever he liked, which wasn’t particularly helpful right now. I didn’t even know if he’d still been in the Court while we’d been there. Maybe he was with Holly, but we couldn’t reach her either.

  “I don’t think he’s coming back,” I called to Hazel, who scowled.

  “Bloody menace of a bird. Some use he is.” She strode over to me again. “The necromancers?”

  “I can talk to them here,” I said. “Since we’re not in a liminal space any longer.”

  “Really?” said Hazel. Her voice cracked a little, and I politely pretended not to notice. “I don’t think I’ve seen you do it before.”

  “That’s because Graves froze you the first time I tapped into the spirit realm.”

  “He did?” said River. “That explains it. I was certain I sensed unusual necromancy, but I wasn’t aware of your powers at the time.”

  “Yeah, I was surprised, believe me. Let’s see what’s going on in Death.”

  Greyness smothered my vision, and I looked around the spirit world. After the void of death I’d seen in Faerie, it was kind of a relief to see it.

  “Hey,” I called out. “Greaves. Either of you will do.”

  The older Greaves appeared, a scowl on his withered face. He blamed me for his accidental intrusion into the land of the living, since the first time I’d banished a wraith on the Ley Line, it’d somehow caused a necromancer Guardian to be unceremoniously yanked back to this side of the grave. As a high-ranked necromancer, he could probably leave whenever he liked, but since there was no longer a living leader of the necromancer guild in the village, the others likely needed the guidance.

  “Lynn,” he said. “What have you done this time?”

  “Absolutely nothing. We went to Faerie and someone messed with our house. It’s uprooted from the Ley Line altogether. Do you know how?”

  “That can’t happen from this side,” he said. “I know nothing of Faerie, but I do know that it’s not this realm’s magic that binds your house. The cause isn’t here.”

  Well, crap. “So where the hell is it, then?”

  “You’re asking the wrong person,” said the old man. “Besides, the Ley Line isn’t that far away. It’s within walking distance, certainly. You’ll find Winter there.”

  “I’m not looking for Winter,” I said. “We’re miles out in the middle of nowhere. We don’t have a car, our mother’s still missing in Faerie, and if anyone in either realm needs our help again, they’re pretty much screwed.”

  “Then it’s a good job you’re here,” he said. “Agnes’s shop is on fire.”

  I switched off my spirit sight, alarm flickering through me. “Did something else follow us here?”

  Morgan shook his head, having apparently been listening in. “Agnes is a powerhouse. Nobody can hurt her.”

  “Most people aren’t stupid enough to try.” I looked around for Hazel and saw she’d left the house door open. I ran into the hall, heart hammering. The house felt… normal. Several pairs of eyes seemed to follow me from the portraits lining the entryway, like the past Lynns were casting judgement on all of us for making such a monumental mess of things.

  “Nothing’s been stolen,” Hazel said, sticking her head out of Mum’s workroom. “What is it?”

  “Someone’s attacking Agnes’s shop.” I moved in behind her. “Are there any functioning weapons in here?”

  “We blew through most of the witch spells, but there’s no shortage of iron.”

  She handed me a couple of spells, but it was plain to see our supplies were dwindling. Like everything else in the house. If the Vale was attacking, we’d have to rely on our magic. Hazel herself was armed to the teeth and her expression was set with simmering rage. I’d seen that look on Mum’s face a dozen times. Like when she’d found out about the local half-Sidhe bullying me, or when Hazel had been in trouble at school. The look she wore when she went to war for one of us. Hazel would do that, I knew. As I’d do the same for her or Morgan.

  I didn’t have time to change out of my faerie-made clothes, so I shoved a hoody on top, relocating the talisman to the inside pocket. “We’re low on iron filings.” I passed a container to Morgan. “Don’t use them unless the threat’s a faerie, okay?”

  “Why are we risking our necks for her?” he asked, taking the container from me. “She jumped ship when we got attacked in Edinburgh.”

  “She also gave us spells free of charge that saved all our lives, in case you’ve forgotten. Besides, she’s probably toasted the threat and the fire’s made of their barbecued corpses.” That seemed more likely than Agnes having any need of help. But when I walked out the front door and spotted a stream of smoke rising from the village, my panic came back. Seeing the village from the house at all seemed wrong
and out of place.

  River took the lead, moving with half-faerie speed, while the rest of us hurried to keep up. We might have iron, but none of us carried any necromancy props. I bloody hoped it wasn’t a wraith. We didn’t have time to take a detour to deal with the living necromancers. Their headquarters looked as though it was locked, anyway.

  Sparks of light shone above the village as we ran along the rain-damp path, and a thin trail of smoke rose amongst the rooftops. Those sparks were awfully familiar.

  “Faeries,” River warned, conjuring magic to his own hands. Away from the Court, the green light wasn’t quite as bright and flashy, but the sparks of green and blue light surrounding the transparent figures floating overhead looked like a fireworks display. So much for the iron.

  People ran around screaming as the half-faerie ghosts flung handfuls of Summer and Winter magic, causing the ground to freeze or thorny plants to appear wherever they hit. Of course the little bastards had used glamour, so to anyone without the Sight, it looked like faerie magic was exploding from thin air. Calling on the book’s power, I ran to meet them. White light ignited my own palms. I didn’t care about exposing it to the world anymore.

  A green-glowing ghost landed in front of me. “Gatekeeper.”

  “Go back to hell.” Necromantic power poured from my hands, striking the ghost in the chest. He flew back, rage sparking in his blazing green eyes. Someone had no trouble drawing on Summer magic. But when he aimed an attack at me, the magical blast struck my shield and ricocheted into the air. I hit him again, knocking him off balance. From his clumsy movements, he hadn’t had nearly as much practise moving around as a ghost as I had.

  Morgan and River ran below the ghosts, both drawing on necromantic energy. The ghosts flew away from the panicking humans to target us instead, but thanks to three of us being able to deflect magic and River’s ability to move swiftly and retaliate with necromantic attacks, the ghosts couldn’t land a hit on us. Hazel marched in, ordering the crowd to break up and take shelter. I hoped they’d listen to her, because with raindrops beginning to fall from the sky, spotting the transparent ghosts became even more difficult. Freezing drizzle soaked through my clothes, numbing my hands. Enough of this crap.