“You have a fucking weird life. And you’d better tell me the truth this time.”
“I will.” I started walking in the direction of the guild, checking he was right behind me. I’d need to ask someone to move the undead from the road, but not until Morgan was safe. Nobody attacks my family and gets away with it.
Around the corner from the guild, River approached us from the opposite direction. “Ilsa!” he called, moving swiftly towards us. “Are you both okay?”
“I think so, but we need to get into the guild, asap. Whatever’s haunting him really didn’t like that we stopped them.”
“Stopped who?” asked River.
“Wraiths,” I said. “Two of them attacked us. Morgan… he used some sort of psychic ability to paralyse them so I could banish them.”
He looked at Morgan. “Are you sure? How did you do it?”
Morgan shook his head, wincing. “I don’t know. I was trying to shut that thing out of my head, and I think I crashed into their minds, psychically, by accident.”
“They just stopped,” I said. “But it sounds like you used some sort of psychic attack on them.”
“And you banished them,” said Morgan. “You said you’d tell me the truth.”
I glanced at River. “When we’re alone, yes, but we need to get that spirit out of your head first. I’ve been told how to perform an exorcism…”
“Usually it only works if the person doing the possessing is right nearby,” River said. “This spirit might be miles away, and it’s not directly possessing him. We can’t extract and trap something that’s not present.”
“But it can’t get at him here,” I said. “It also knows what I am.”
River’s mouth tightened. “Are you certain?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I used the book, when it was attacking Morgan, and it picked up on our location that way. But it couldn’t attack me. I think it must be miles from here, using him as a proxy. I guess the defences on the guild must keep it out, whatever it is.”
River opened the oak doors to the guild ahead of us. Morgan staggered into the lobby and leaned on the wall, groaning. “Ow.”
“It’s not still in your head, is it?” I asked, closing the door firmly behind me.
“No, but it’s angry. What in hell is it?”
“I may have an idea,” River said. “I looked into the possibility of what the intruder said being true, and—apparently, the fetch isn’t only a death omen. They’re minor fae, and there’s evidence that some of them have latent psychic abilities.”
A death omen. “Are you sure?”
River reached into his pocket and handed me a small book. I flipped it open onto the bookmarked page, and the word fetch loomed out at me.
“An omen of death… and they can only be heard by people whose own death is coming,” I read. “Well, that’s not true, considering it sure wanted me to hear it as well… They will often encourage people to take their own lives to fulfil their own prophecies. Target those with spirit sensitivity. Rare creatures believed to originate in the faerie realms.” I looked up at him. “Shit. Guess the iron in this place keeps it out. But why target him?”
“What the hell is a fetch?” said Morgan.
“It appears when you’re going to die, apparently.” Chills raced up my arms. “Which apparently doesn’t mean much to necromancers.” I looked back at the page, but there was no other information.
“I can’t see it,” he said. “It can’t see me, either. You mean to say there’s no cure?”
“I have an idea,” said River. “You’re not allergic to iron, right?”
“Obviously not. I’m not a faerie.”
“Iron works as protection against faerie magic,” River said. “The fetch’s abilities fall into that category. So if you wear an iron charm, in theory, the voices should stop.”
“Oh,” I said. “I really should have thought of that.”
“Right.” River nodded. “We don’t have witch spells of that type here, but they should be relatively easy to get hold of. For now, hold onto anything made of iron…”
“Those weapons?” asked Morgan.
“No,” I said. “You’ll probably end up injuring yourself. Here.” I passed him my container of iron filings. “Keep hold of it. Is there anything else I need to do here?”
River shook his head. “The necromancers are running interrogations to see if anyone else was working with the intruder. The three of us are already cleared, don’t worry.”
“And—Morgan. Is it best if he stays here? We need to take that fetch out of the picture.”
Morgan folded his arms. “Yeah, might be a bit difficult when nobody can see the damn thing. Don’t I get a say in this?”
“You can come back to my house, but only if the iron is definitely working,” I said.
“I’ll speak to Lady Montgomery later,” River said. “She’s running the interrogations. Technically, I’m supposed to be helping her.”
“Ah. Sorry I dragged you away.”
“Don’t be. Will you be okay finding a witch spell? We don’t have any spare iron charms here, otherwise I’d loan you one.”
Of course he wouldn’t own any himself, being part faerie.
“Our housemate does custom spells,” I said. “Or we’ll go to the market. Should I come back later? Because that creature knows where the guild is…”
“A lot of enemies know where the guild is. It’s a little difficult to ignore.” He looked at Morgan. “Come back tomorrow. I’ll find everything I can on fetches. Read the rest of that handbook, if you haven’t already.”
Morgan began to walk away as though he hadn’t spoken.
“I’ll watch him,” I said. “See you later.”
Morgan grunted. “What a total knob.”
“Morgan,” I said warningly. “River’s been to a lot of trouble for our sakes.”
Morgan gripped the iron container tightly. “Guess I’ll ask Corwin. He runs a witch stall at the market.”
I hope he’s right. This was a temporary solution, I knew. But I wouldn’t risk Morgan’s life. He kept shooting me disgruntled looks all the way home whenever I not-so-subtly checked he wasn’t possessed again. You can hardly blame me for being jumpy. My whole body ached from where he’d hit me and knocked me into the road, and when it began to rain heavily, blood dripped into my eyes from a cut underneath my hairline. I rubbed half-heartedly at it with my sleeve, wondering if the necromancers’ coats weren’t intended to hide bloodstains after all.
I tensed when the house came into view, seeing someone on the doorstep again. But I didn’t need to tap into the spirit world to see the universe hadn’t finished trampling on either of us for today.
Hazel stood there waiting for us, arms folded, fury in her eyes.
12
Hazel gave my brother a blistering stare. “So it’s true. You’re back.”
“Oh,” said Morgan. “Hi.”
“Hey, Morgan,” said Hazel, icily. “So nice of you to call and check up on me. Really appreciate it.”
“Ah.” Morgan shifted from one foot to the other. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“That’d be because the phone number I have under your name is a few years out of date. When I tried calling it, I got a witch called MacDougal.”
“Ah. Yeah. The witches stole my phone.”
“The witches stole your phone,” Hazel repeated. Anger brewed in the air, so heated that I expected the rainwater dripping from her hair to evaporate on the spot.
“I’m going to ask Corwin for a spell,” I told them. “Meanwhile, you two can stand out in the rain and yell at one another, or come into the warmth and keep your tempers under control. I’m starving and bruised and entirely too many people have tried to kill me today.”
“Bring me up to speed,” said Hazel, shooting Morgan a look. “I’ll behave if he does.”
“Then try not to blow up the house.” I unlocked the door. “I’m serious. This place isn’t quite as sturd
y as home. If you smash the furniture, it’ll stay broken, and I’ll have to deal with disgruntled housemates and angry rental companies. So please try not to damage anything.”
I walked inside. A moment later, the others trailed after me, their glares searing the back of my neck. They needed a good screaming match to get it out of their systems, but that was on them, not me. I took off my necromancer coat and threw it over the back of the nearest chair in the kitchen, where Corwin had left spells strewn everywhere. I guessed he was working at the market today. I went to the corner where he kept his chalk circle supplies and found an iron charm.
“I brought food from the house, by the way,” said Hazel.
“You did?” I looked back at her. “Good, because I don’t have enough for three people.”
“Thought not. Also, if you’re as bad a cook as I remember, I don’t want you poisoning us.”
“Hey,” I protested, handing the iron charm to Morgan. “Hope this doesn’t turn you green, because it’s all I’ve got.”
Hazel put the bags down on the table, completely blanking Morgan. Good strategy, because I wanted my hands on the Lynn house’s divine cooking and nothing else. Luckily, the others seemed to agree, and Hazel seemed more interested in Corwin’s magical props.
“Watch the spells. They sometimes have unintended side effects,” I warned her around a mouthful of pastry.
“Let me guess, Morgan touched them,” Hazel said.
“Got it in one,” I said, then swiftly changed the subject. I brought Hazel up to speed on my necromancer training, including my surprise at Lady Montgomery being River’s mother.
“I’ll bet Mum knows her,” Hazel said. “She knows all the leading supernaturals who fought in the war.”
“I didn’t know any of this until I came here,” I said. “I didn’t know the necromancer guild’s practically a fortress, or so… organised. Compared to Greaves’s place anyway. Have they elected a new leader yet?”
“I think so, but they haven’t come visiting. Pretty sure Greaves came back as a ghost and told them himself.” She looked at Morgan, her expression guarded. “I take it you know all of this.”
“I do now. Took her long enough to tell me.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Hazel. “I wouldn’t go around shouting our secrets to someone who ran off eight years ago.”
“She said you cried when I left.”
Thanks, Morgan.
Hazel gave me an accusing stare. “Excuse me? If you remember, it was tears of joy that the scrounging bastard was finally out of our lives.”
“Guys!” I said, before the situation devolved into a shouting match. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting you to show up, Hazel. It’s been a Week. With a capital W. People have tried to kill both of us. Several times. Also, Morgan has psychic powers.”
That shut both of them up long enough to finish my explanation. When we were finally done, I prepared myself for an onslaught of questions.
Hazel spoke first. “So the two of you are like, honorary necromancers now?” Did she sound a little jealous? No way. It was only right that the pair of us got to have our turn in the spotlight.
“Not until I pass training,” I said. “I’m junior level… if I ever get to sit any more exams without being interrupted. And Morgan went to the guild today so we could work out what his powers are. Turns out he’s being psychically haunted by something, and the guild is the only place where it stops.”
“So it’s a faerie ghost?” asked Hazel.
“Fetch,” I said. “For whatever reason, it’s figured out he’s a psychic and keeps tormenting him. And it’s linked to whoever’s summoning the wraiths, but the guy working for them got caught and died, so we’re back to square one.”
“Fetches.” She swore under her breath. “I’ll have to think… they’re death omens, kind of like banshees. But instead of screaming when you’re about to die, they just… show up.”
“None of us actually saw the fetch. It spoke through someone else. Can they do that?”
“No clue,” said Hazel. “Psychic stuff definitely isn’t my area.” Worry laced her tone. Despite her and Morgan’s outward hostility, Hazel’s main reason for embracing her role as the Summer Gatekeeper’s heir was because she’d wanted to keep the rest of us safe. Ghosts and fetches alike were immune to her powers, putting this situation way out of her area.
“You want to stay here overnight?” I asked. “We’re running an experiment where Morgan wears an iron spell to keep the fetch out. If it doesn’t work, he’ll have to stay at the guild. The other night, he ended up sleepwalking on the orders of a murderous ghost and wandered outside.”
“Damn.” Hazel shook her head. “Sure, I can stay. It’s quiet at the house without you there.”
“Is Arden around? He flew after me the other day.”
“He comes and goes. I don’t trust him enough to let him see anything important these days. None of the notes Mum left behind. He’s still refusing to tell me where she is. I kind of hoped River would have given you an update.”
“Nothing. If there’s anything new, he can’t say.” I exhaled in a sigh. “Not sure I want to explain to her how I ended up joining the necromancers…”
“Let alone me,” Morgan put in. “Thanks for telling me Mum’s been kidnapped.”
“I don’t think she’s been kidnapped,” said Hazel. “She’s just held up in Faerie. It happens a lot. You know that. Remember when she left for a month and we turned the garden into a fortress?”
Hazel hadn’t brought up that memory since Morgan had gone, but I remembered clearly as though it’d happened yesterday. It’d been just after Hazel’s Gatekeeper’s power had manifested, and Hazel had used it to create a proper medieval castle in the back garden. It’d scared the crap out of Mum when she’d come back.
“She still left us to handle it alone,” said Morgan. “Sounds about right.”
“Look, you can take your grievances straight to her,” I said. “I’m dealing the best I can. And so is Hazel. She’s acting Gatekeeper, and I’m—”
“Some other kind of Gatekeeper.”
I shrugged. “It’s to do with the gates between the veil and Beyond. The afterlife. Specifically, faerie ghosts.”
“And you mentioned a book? Can I see it?”
I hesitated, but I’d chosen to trust him. Pulling the book from my pocket, I held it up. At least it wasn’t glowing.
“I wouldn’t touch—” But of course he’d already snatched it from my hands, flipping through the pages.
“How much is this worth?”
“Several lives,” I said.
“If you steal it,” Hazel put in, “Grandma’s ghost will appear and smite you.”
“It’s also cursed,” I added. “And only works for the Gatekeeper. Hence the blank pages. Give it here.”
I ended up having to tug it from his hands. Morgan’s expression was a little glazed, and I hoped it was just the book’s magic, not anything more sinister. He’d said the fetch’s link to his head was one way… that it couldn’t read his mind. And nobody could take the book, especially not a ghost. Still, I’d be sleeping with the damn thing under my pillow tonight.
“Also,” I said, “its magic means that we can only discuss it within the family and people who already know. So it won’t let you tell another soul. It took ages to figure out how to tell River. It’s also been mostly blank until fairly recently, so I’m learning how to get it to tell me what I need to know. I wish it had more info on psychics and fetches, but I think its speciality is dark faeries.”
“Fetches are dark faeries, though,” said Hazel. “If it’s been following Morgan, it must have been in this realm a while… I wish we could track it.”
“Me too, but he can’t hear its thoughts without getting a headache, and it damn near killed me earlier. We’ll go to the necromancers in the morning and see if they have any more ideas.”
“I thought they knew the Summer Gatekeeper here,” said Hazel.
<
br /> “They know of the Gatekeepers,” I said. “Not necessarily the details. Lady Montgomery does, but that’s because she’s been poking around trying to learn as much as possible.”
Her brows rose. “She knows about Aunt Candice?”
“She does. That’s why she’s reserving judgement on whether to trust us or not. But she doesn’t know what I am, or about the book.”
Nor how I might have drawn the enemy’s attention by using its magic. It’d been risky enough to use it at the Winter estate, but the Ley Line went through Edinburgh, too. Maybe our enemy was counting on exactly that. The curse of the Gatekeeper was that I held all these lives in my hands, whether I acknowledged it or not. Not just the lives in this room.
Maybe the fetch hadn’t come for Morgan at all.
Unsurprisingly, I didn’t get much sleep that night. Hazel and Morgan kept bickering all evening, and while my housemates tolerated the arrival of a new Lynn, the peace lasted up until she brought out a bottle of elf wine. Within an hour, Hazel and Morgan were metaphorically off their faces and literally at one another’s throats.
As for me, I woke with a raging headache at five in the morning to a bright light in the corner of my eye. I turned over, seeing the book glowing under my pillow. “Stop it,” I mumbled. My mouth tasted like I’d washed it out with swamp water, and my head pounded with the drumming insistence of an oncoming hangover. I squeezed my eyes closed against the glare, but the book, if anything, grew brighter. “What?”
The bedroom door rattled, and my throat went dry. Intruder. Even my spirit sight was fuzzy, but there was definitely something outside the door that shouldn’t be.
Crap. What is it now?
Hazel lay on my floor on the spare mattress I’d borrowed from one of the others, dead to the world. Grabbing a knife and some salt as well as the book, I crept past, opened the door, and paused. Shadows trailed up the staircase. Not regular shadows, but solid-looking ones.
“Hazel!” I hissed. “Get a weapon. Now.”
She woke up, mumbling in confusion. I backed up to the door, trying to see through the shadowy haze. Death faeries… in the house. We had iron wards up. Someone must have turned them off.
Hereditary Curse (The Gatekeeper's Curse Book 2) Page 11