“Shows us nice hospitality?” said Morgan.
The half-Sidhe took one step towards us. Pretty faerie appearance aside, there was something starkly inhuman in the way he moved, and the harsh expression on his face told me that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot all of us down with that crossbow of his.
“If I were someone else, you’d be dead, mortals,” he said. “However, one of you carries an object of power. I’m curious about it.”
He can sense the book? No—he’d seen it. His gaze roamed over us, as though he could see all our secrets.
“That would be mine,” River said, taking a step towards him and holding his blade to the light. “It’s claimed.”
“Naturally,” said the half-Sidhe. “May I see?”
River spun the blade in his hands so it came to a resting position pointing right at the half-Sidhe’s throat. “I’m in the employ of the Summer Court, acting as bodyguard to the Summer Gatekeeper through the borderland territories. You can tell Lady Hornbeam that we have permission to be here.”
“Including the humans?” Incredulity momentarily crossed his expression, and he didn’t seem particularly fazed by the blade inches from his neck. “If you lie, mortal, your lives will be forfeit.”
“Mortal?” said River, raising an eyebrow. “You’re as mortal as I am, thief.”
He let the blade pass within a centimetre of the half-Sidhe’s throat before pulling it back, green magic shimmering to the hilt. His eyes glowed with it. But the stranger didn’t even flinch, as though having deadly blades pointed at him was a daily occurrence.
“How did you guess I was a thief?” said the stranger.
“I’m a bodyguard. It’s my job to make accurate assessments of potential adversaries. Why are you so interested in my talisman? It’s not an unusual sight, even in the hands of one of us.”
A bitter smile twisted the stranger’s lips. “I’m a thief. It’s my job to steal anything valuable that passes through her territory, and if any… livestock wanders off, it’s my duty to return it to her.”
“What is it with you people thinking we’re sheep?” Morgan snarled, stepping up to him. “We’re not livestock, you stuck-up piece of shit. We’re people.”
“All right, that’s enough,” Hazel said. “We’re in a hurry. Morgan, get back here. Princeling, go back to your palace and leave us in peace.”
“Princeling?” said the faerie, scowling. “You have no respect.”
“Neither have you,” Hazel said. “I’m Summer Gatekeeper, and for your information, we’re on our way to prevent an attack on your Court. So if you’d kindly step aside—unless you’d like to help us?”
“My duty is to my family first, mortal,” said the thief. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure. If I see you again, I’ll be forced to report you to Lady Hornbeam. I rather think she’ll be less welcoming than I’ve been.”
There was a flicker of movement, and he was gone, like he’d evaporated into thin air.
“Wow,” said Hazel. “They do things differently out here in the borderlands.”
“What was all that about claimed talismans?” I asked.
“If it wasn’t claimed by me,” River said, “he’d have stolen it. Probably without any of us noticing.”
“Does anyone else think we just dodged a bullet?” said Morgan.
“Or an iron arrow,” said River. “He was carrying iron. I sensed it.”
“They use iron on other faeries out here?” I shuddered. “Okay, that’s enough borderland territory for me. Let’s move.”
Our narrow escape set my nerves on edge, and I walked quicker, thinking of sunny glades and gardens. I’d never expected I’d ever think of Summer magic in a positive light, but I sighed in relief at the sight of blessed sunlight ahead. We reached a clearer path winding into the trees. I glimpsed a meadow at one end, and from the opposite direction, a cool breeze blew.
“Summer,” said Hazel, directing her steps towards the meadow. “Crossover territory. This is where the council goes in and out of this realm… it’s usually harder to avoid attention here, but that hardly matters.”
“Here we go.” I spotted two Sidhe on horseback.
One was the female messenger Sidhe who’d spoken to us before, and her expression was pure murder.
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I went completely still as the two Sidhe spotted us.
“Guilty conscience, mortal?” said Lady Aiten, softly. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall, while her eyes were startlingly bright. Her magic whispered over my head, promising thorny pain and sharp vengeance.
“What’s going on?” asked Hazel and I more or less at the same time.
“Someone in the Court has died.” Magic hummed in her voice with another promise of pain.
Holy crap. “Who died?” I asked. Please not the Erlking. Or the person who sent Mum into the Vale, for that matter.
“Nobody you know,” said Lady Aiten.
“What are you doing here, mortals?” said the second Sidhe—Lord Raivan. “You would do well to stay away from the Court, considering what happened at Lord Niall’s revel.”
“There’s a traitor in the Court,” I said. “We’re here to warn you. One of your own is working with outcasts.”
“They stole our gate,” Hazel added. “The Summer Gatekeeper’s magic has been compromised. Someone in Faerie stole it. Maybe the same person who committed murder.”
Lord Raivan’s eyes narrowed. “And what is your own alibi, exactly?”
“Our family is locked into a permanent contract to obey this Court,” said Hazel. “All of us. If we murdered anyone, it’d rebound horribly.”
“Not him.” He cast a sharp look at River, whose body stiffened, his hand dropping to his blade.
“He’s been with us the whole time,” I snapped. “Ask… damn, who was that thief in the borderlands? He can probably confirm which way we came in. We literally just got here.”
“And I am in a contract of my own,” River said smoothly. “I’m here to aid the Gatekeeper, and it’s my belief that there is a threat to this Court within the Grey Vale.”
“Don’t think I haven’t heard your stories, mortal,” said Lord Raivan. “You and Ivy Lane both, spreading rumours of the Vale.”
“Ivy was here?” I said in disbelief. “Recently? If she confirmed his story, it must be true. She’s been there. So has River.”
“And if you’re not careful, you’ll be joining the outcasts yourselves,” growled Lord Raivan, directing his horse to approach us.
I refused to give ground. “Lord Raivan, I know why this is happening. I request an audience with the Erlking, or whoever is responsible for locking my family into this contract.”
“This realm is not your own, mortal,” he said softly. “You’re not even Gatekeeper.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
I saw Hazel wince, and felt bad. But not bad enough to stop. The Sidhe deserved a reckoning, and I’d rather the Gatekeepers were the ones to give it to them than the Vale outcasts.
“Whatever special treatment you think you deserve, mortal, you’re not one of us,” said Lady Aiten.
“It’s not special treatment to show basic respect to someone giving you a warning. If you don’t listen, you’ll only lose more of your own people. Permanently.”
The grass stirred as magic crept beneath my feet. Every instinct told me to get the hell out, but despite the Sidhe’s loathing of mortals, there wasn’t actually a rule denying our right to be here, even to ask to speak to the Erlking. The Sidhe just weren’t obligated to treat us like people. It was entirely possible the Erlking himself would be the same, but I couldn’t resist. I doubted anyone had ever asked the question before.
Lord Raivan actually looked surprised, beneath all the magic, his faerie-bright eyes widening a fraction. “You should know that even most of the Sidhe haven’t set eyes on our king for many years. He takes no visitors.”
“Look,” I said, throwing caution to the winds
. “My magic… it’s to do with life and death. He has a life-threatening illness, doesn’t he? Maybe I can help. And our family made a treaty with the Erlking himself.”
“That is impossible,” he said.
“It’s fact,” said Hazel defiantly. “Why not send a messenger and ask him? There has to be a procedure when the Summer Gatekeeper’s life is in danger and the gate is compromised. Otherwise, you’ll lose the gate forever. If you don’t believe the warnings, I can prove that is the truth. I’ve seen it.”
“All messages to the Erlking go through the Seelie Queen,” said Lady Aiten.
“So there is a Queen?” I asked, glancing at Hazel.
“There is,” Hazel said. “But she doesn’t share his power. I don’t think she’s the one who bound the Gatekeepers, but if it’s possible to speak to her, it’d be most welcome.”
“Not to her,” Lord Raivan said. “She has more important matters to deal with than trivial mortal lives.”
Morgan opened his mouth to speak and I elbowed him in the ribs. “If we can speak to her, then it might avert a war. Let us try to convince her.”
“I will send a messenger,” said Lord Raivan. Nodding to Lady Aiten, he wheeled his horse around and the two of them vanished.
“Seelie Queen?” said Morgan. “Never heard of her.”
“They don’t talk about her,” River said. “Because… it’s rumoured that her own power is limited. She carries the title by marriage only, and possesses no powerful talisman of her own.”
“Oh.” I knew how important magic was to the Sidhe. More than anything else. From what I knew of faerie customs, marriages were almost always for power and nothing more. As immortals, they didn’t even technically need an heir, though they’d have to change that soon. Most Sidhe had one or more partners for a few decades, then got bored and moved on. Marriage for love was unheard of. If they did have children, those children then claimed their own territories and intermingled with other families. The Sidhe bloodlines were a tangled mess, which was why I hoped someone else was tasked with finding the actual heir, when it came down to it.
If the Erlking had picked a partner who possessed no powerful magic, maybe he actually loved her. Though I didn’t think the Sidhe were capable of love in the human sense. They sure seemed to like making fun of our fragile little human emotions, anyway. But maybe they judged one another in a similar manner.
Lord Raivan appeared again, so suddenly that all of us jumped. “No humans are to enter the Court, by the order of the Seelie Queen herself.”
My heart plunged. “Now? It’s urgent—I didn’t lie. Our gate’s already been taken, and our mother—”
“If you were idiotic enough to lose control of your magic, then it’s your job to retrieve it.”
“Someone in your Court took my magic,” said Hazel. “It’s never happened to any of the past Gatekeepers, so can’t you make an exception?”
He cocked a brow. “Really? What is it that makes you children so certain that nobody before you has ever suffered misfortune?”
“That’s not what I said,” Hazel told him. “And you wouldn’t know anything about misfortune, because your magic protects you from getting so much as a paper cut.”
“You even fucked up your own realm so nobody would ever have to die,” said Morgan. “That’s not just unfortunate, it’s plain sad.”
Anger flashed in the Sidhe’s eyes. “If you had the slightest comprehension—”
“Your head’s too far up your own arse to see the daylight.” Morgan gesticulated at the blazing sun. “Even that’s probably fake. You’re living on borrowed time, and you can call us stupid little mortals all you like. You’re doomed.”
“Too far, Morgan,” Hazel said out of the corner of her mouth. “So, if you don’t mind, we’re planning on saving your ungrateful necks. Let us speak to the Erlking’s representative. If they want to strike us down, that’s their prerogative, but I’m not moving from here. And you know what it will cost you if you take my life. Assume the same is the case if you attack my family.”
“Lord Raivan, allow me to handle this.” A hard-faced silver-haired Sidhe warrior strode up to us, talisman in hand. Like River’s, it was carved into the shape of a sword, bright with runes and radiant with power. “I couldn’t help overhearing that this little band of mortals would like to speak with the Seelie King.”
He turned on us. I froze a little inside. You’d think seeing one Sidhe would neutralise the effects a bit, but if anything, the impact of each Sidhe’s appearance was worse. His stare was pure malice, weaponised against us. Thorns twined around the talisman in his hand.
“And you are?” asked Hazel.
“My name is Lord Daival,” he said, his gaze travelling across our group. River gripped his own sword so tightly, his knuckles turned white. “As one of you once employed by the Summer Court knows well.”
“Actually,” River said, “I’m still in the employ of the Summer Court, as it wasn’t I who broke the law.”
“There is no law against showing mortals their place,” said the Sidhe.
An icy pit formed inside me. He’s the one who kept humans prisoner. And River freed them. The magic surrounding Lord Daival told me that he was more powerful, and had more authority, than any of the Sidhe I’d met so far. When River had said he’d made a calculated risk in freeing the humans, I hadn’t quite grasped just how badly it could have gone. Worse, Lord Raivan had disappeared, leaving us alone with him.
“The Court begs to differ,” River said. He didn’t sound terrified, but he must be. Nobody could look at that Sidhe and not feel mortal fear. I did, and I carried the freaking death book in my hands.
“I’m the one who wanted to speak with someone who has access to the Erlking’s inner circle,” said Hazel. “If not the Seelie Queen, then someone else.”
“You dare to ask to speak with the Erlking?” he said.
“Yes, I do. I’m Summer Gatekeeper. Her heir, anyway. It’s urgent—”
“As far as I am concerned, you’re nothing more than a filthy mortal who doesn’t know their place,” said Lord Daival softly. “All of you.”
“Oh, you’re talking about me?” Morgan said. Was I the only person here who felt a normal amount of trepidation towards antagonising the walking nuclear weapon in front of us? Antagonising him was like squirting a water pistol into a troll’s eye, or setting a dryad’s tree on fire.
Thorns lashed from Lord Daival’s weapon, wrapping around Morgan’s legs. He swore loudly. “Get off me, you bastard.”
“Let go of him,” Hazel. The thorns twisted in the air, wrapping around her legs, too. This isn’t how it was meant to go.
River stepped forward, his talisman gleaming with green light. No. He was going to retaliate, and then they’d kill all four of us.
“Let her go!” I shouted at the Sidhe. “Hazel and I are in your service—our family is bound to yours for life. You kill Morgan and Hazel and you violate your own treaty.”
“Would you prefer to add to your own criminal record, Lord Daival?” River enquired. “The Sidhe won’t forget what you did. Killing the Gatekeeper won’t do anything but cause more trouble for you and for your Court. It’d be a poor way to repay the Lynn family for their services.”
As Lord Daival’s attention shifted from me to River, I stuck my hand in my pocket, and grabbed the book.
Power roared through my veins, a wave of cold energy. I shouldn’t feel it so strongly here. The light brightened, and Lord Daival turned on me, his eyes widening. I didn’t have a clue what I looked like to him, but it frightened him, and that was enough. In the realm of light, I shouldn’t be able to sense death’s touch, but I did. It lay everywhere, beneath the bright magic, beneath it all. It was all fake. I saw the hole of empty darkness where I’d sent those wraiths—
Magic exploded from Hazel’s hands, pushing the vines away from her. Her forehead glowed with green light once again. I dropped my hands, and the cold magic faded, even as its ache
remained in my chest, insistent, angry.
“You mortals are a disease that must be wiped from existence,” said Lord Daival, in a quiet, deadly voice.
“Same old,” Hazel said. “Also, you forgot this place gives my magic a boost, too, even now someone’s draining it away. You gave me this power. If you want to retract your gift, you have to deal with the fact that Winter will have a representative on the human side to protect you from the evil death faeries and you won’t.”
“We are perfectly capable of protecting ourselves.” He wouldn’t look directly at me, and hadn’t addressed what I’d done. Had I terrified him that much? “Luckily, it’s not up to me whether you keep your position or not.”
“But it is up to me.” A radiant figure with flaxen hair spun with wildflowers appeared from the trees, like a fallen sunbeam given flesh. She smiled, and the world stopped. The last of the thorns faded as her magic whispered through the meadow, a soft caress on my neck. Comforting, and chilling, because now I’d seen that cold emptiness beneath this realm, I knew what shadows lay beneath that beauty and magic.
“May I speak to them?” she enquired. “I rather think I might be of better help for their purpose, Lord Daival.”
“Your majesty,” he said in a tone suddenly deferential, worshipful.
The Seelie Queen. I should probably curtsy or something, but my legs were frozen, and so was my whole body. The others remained similarly immobile. If the other Sidhe could strike us down, this Sidhe could rend us to pieces without moving an inch.
“That’s enough toying with the mortals, Lord Daival,” she said, and the spell broke.
“Your majesty,” said Hazel. “We didn’t want to intervene, but there’s something really important we need to tell the Erlking. I’m the Summer—”
“Gatekeeper’s heir. Of course you are. I’d know the mark anywhere.”
She knows. It might even be her that our family’s magic was bound to, because she certainly held a shit-ton of power of her own, talisman or none. I kind of hoped she’d thwack Lord Daival on the head to get him out of the way, but instead, the scene changed subtly, and the five of us stood in an empty field. Lord Daival was nowhere in sight.
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