“Family curse,” he repeated.
“Yes, I told you about it.” I looked him in the eyes, which gleamed with green Summer magic even in death. “Don’t you remember?
Remember…
The vow that bound me only worked on the living. Even if he hadn’t seen what I’d done, I’d be able to tell him all of it now. The book, as far as I knew, hadn’t followed me into death. But maybe it can. Necromancers seemed to be the exception to every rule. The fact that neither of us had floated through the gates yet was proof of that.
“I have something really important to tell you, River, and I hope you remember it when you wake up. I’m the one who banished the wraith. Grandma—well, Great-Aunt Enid—she gave me this book with necromantic magic that’s been in our family forever, and it bound itself to me. I can’t tell anyone about it, but I got around the vow.”
“You banished the wraith?”
“Yes.” I grabbed his wrist. To my surprise, his hand felt solid this time. So did mine. “I did. And I think I’m the Gatekeeper you’re supposed to protect. Somehow…”
He looked at the gates, then back at me, his expression clearing. “You’re the Gatekeeper. You’re… Ilsa.”
“At least you didn’t call me Hazel. Tell me you remember who you are now.”
He looked down at our entwined hands and shook his head. “I’m too far gone. Maybe my vow kept me alive this long, but I don’t think I can—”
The breeze tore at him, threatening to break my grip on his hand. I wasn’t strong enough to fight the pull from Death’s gates. No matter what I did—
“Think about your family,” I said desperately. “Think about something real. Anything.” Strong emotions attached ghosts to the waking world, I knew that, but I didn’t know him well enough to make an educated guess as to what would work in this particular case. All I knew was that I wasn’t letting go of his hand.
“My father didn’t believe my reports on the wraiths.” His hand solidified as anger and pain flashed in his eyes. “Nobody would take the word of a half-blood seriously in the Courts, even on matters that threaten their lives.”
“Oh.” Suddenly his initial interest in the wraiths made a lot of sense. “I’m sorry. He’s wrong. You were right, and you have to tell the Courts that. You’ll finish your job and they’ll forgive you for helping humans…” Dammit. His hand had gone transparent again, his expression clouded.
“River,” I said. “I want you to think very clearly. What exactly were you thinking when you saw me step out of Hazel’s spell circle?” Maybe I needed something more powerful—but I didn’t know what he cared about most of all, in this world or Faerie. Hadn’t had the chance to ask.
I dug my nails into his palm, grabbing his shoulder with my free hand. Death’s cold embrace tugged at us, but I planted myself right there and refused to budge.
“I was thinking…” His gaze cleared. “I was thinking that if I could break my vow and spend the night with you instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Shock filtered through. For all the restless spirits floating past, we might have been alone. “What? I thought you were mad at me at the time.”
He shook his head. “I was mad at your sister for not taking the threat seriously, but you… I wished it’d been you I’d been asked to guard.”
“Well, you got your wish.” Maybe being a ghost did away with my reservations, but I had to try. “If you go through those gates, you’ll never get to spend any more time with me in the waking world.” I placed my hands on his shoulders. “Don’t you want to see what that would be like?”
I closed the last inches between us and kissed him. I wish I could say I felt the whole thing, but with little left of my senses, all I got was the whisper of his lips on mine and the barest hint of the earthy scent of his magic.
I looked up to find the gates had disappeared, to be replaced by more endless grey. The fog cleared, revealing my house, and we dropped through the roof as though it wasn’t there at all. Down, down into the living room, where Hazel slumped beside the sofa, her head bowed. Two bodies lay there, one on the armchair, the other on the sofa.
“Oh god, she’s going to kill me. She must have found our bodies out in the field,” I said. It was weird as hell to speak while looking down at my own lifeless body. Shit. Hope it’s not too late.
I looked for River, but he’d disappeared. Below, on the armchair, he stirred, his eyes opening. Alive. We’d made it.
I closed my eyes, concentrating on the solid sensation of the book in my hands—wait. Am I holding the book?
My eyes flew open and I sat up. I was holding the book—and text covered every page in swirling lines.
20
Hazel screamed. I lowered the book and shook my head, my mind spinning from the weird sensation of suddenly having senses again. Like the ability to feel freezing bloody cold, and the sting of the cuts on my face and arms where the redcaps had attacked me. At least my clothes were dry and dirt-free, thanks to the house.
River groaned, sitting up, running a hand over his forehead.
“What the fuck?” Hazel croaked. Her eyes were puffy with tears. “You’re—you’re alive.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t know it’d take that long.”
“You were dead. I mean, you were breathing, but I couldn’t wake you up. Either of you. What happened?”
No excuses presented themselves. I’d failed, totally failed to best Holly, and almost got both of us killed. And yet—the book. I’d finally unlocked it.
“Holly,” I said. “Turns out those creepy necromancers were half-faeries using glamour, and they trapped River in Death. So I had to get him out.”
“I can’t believe you went there without me.” She scrubbed a hand over her forehead. “I’m the freaking Gatekeeper.”
“There was no time,” I said. “Holly—she was up to something bad over there. Really bad. The Winter Gatekeeper… she’s dead.”
I ran through what we’d seen, with River’s input. Hazel looked between us as though expecting me to admit it was all a joke. By the time I’d finished explaining my encounter with Grandma’s ghost and my trip over the veil, Hazel and River were both gaping at me.
“Necromancers—in our family?” said Hazel.
“Yep,” I said. “Great-Aunt Enid. Supposedly, I’m the first in a while, and the book only awakens when it’s desperately needed.”
“And you decided not to tell anyone,” River said.
I shook my head. “The book decided not to tell anyone. Or whoever put that spell on it did. Every single time I’ve tried to bring up the subject, it’s stopped me.”
“Until you used it to break into Holly’s house,” he said. I didn’t miss the accusing note in his tone.
“I was improvising,” I admitted. “I’ve been playing it by ear the whole time because up until now, I couldn’t even read the damn thing. When I banished the first wraith—”
“I knew something wasn’t right,” said River. “That beast was too powerful for my first spell to have been enough.”
“I thought it’d killed you,” I retaliated. “Believe me, I’d have liked to talk to someone living about this crap. I wasn’t trying to be deceptive. Blame my Great-Aunt Enid, who didn’t have the decency to stick around as a ghost and explain all this. If it’d worked yesterday at the ball, you’d have seen it for sure.”
“But the spirit barriers blocked your magic.”
Your magic. The words sent a weird thrill through me which almost caused me to forget the mire of shit we’d landed in.
“I guess they did. I really don’t understand how to use this power, though. I just spoke the words… heaven knows where they came from. I wasn’t trying to deceive you, River, honestly. If anything, I think you could have helped me.”
He nodded, not looking too happy. Maybe he was remembering our kiss. Whether he’d meant what he said or not, I didn’t blame him for being angry with me. He’d helped us, even at the risk of being ac
cused himself, and now…
“So you know all the binding words?” he asked.
“Apparently,” I said. “So far I’ve only been able to use any magic when my spirit sight’s switched on, and I only just figured out how to do that on command. But Holly… she knew about it. I think Arden told her, or gave her the information. She was looking for the book before she even knew I had it.”
“What—Arden?” said Hazel. “How could he have told her?”
“We’re sure he’s a double agent,” I explained. “He stole the spells from Agnes, so people could walk around pretending to be us.”
Her mouth fell open. “But—he’s the Gatekeeper’s.”
“Not just our Gatekeeper’s,” I said. “She—I don’t know how, considering her spirit’s trapped within that house, but she’s the one who set the redcaps on us last night, too. Unless Holly’s somehow wrangled obedience from him when she’s not technically Gatekeeper yet.”
Hazel swore. “The snake. He… you’re saying he left the mark, too, right?”
“This mark,” said River, indicating the book. “It was yours. Can I take a closer look at that book?”
I handed it to him. To my surprise, the book didn’t resist. “The pages are blank, usually,” I said. “But they turn up with the right words if I need them. I guess it’s programmed to do that. With magic… whatever spell was put on it to begin with.”
River swore under his breath. “That’s why you were asking about my sword. The mark… I don’t know this one, but I think it’s an Invocation mark.”
Hazel gasped. “Of course. I should have known.”
I cast about for the definition—“Invocations. The original faerie language, all-powerful, can’t be spoken aloud by anyone who isn’t a Sidhe without their mind falling to pieces… right? Those are the symbols on your sword.”
“Got it,” said River grimly. “If I’d seen the book before, I might have guessed, but I can’t say I know what that symbol actually says. There’s no dictionary of the language. And when that spell signature appeared… I should have put two and two together. But humans aren’t supposed to know the language. I’ve seen those symbols on other talismans—”
“Talismans.” I looked up. “That’s what it is—right? It’s a faerie talisman.”
“Possibly.” A furrow appeared between his brows. “But it’s not the usual sort, at all. Most are weapons, bonded to their owners. The book appears to have chosen you in the same way, but the magic inside it isn’t typical of Faerie at all. It’s neither Summer nor Winter. I’d almost say it’s… a man-made talisman.”
“Wow,” said Hazel. “Well, never mind where it came from. Can you use the book to banish the Winter Gatekeeper?”
“Possibly,” I said. “But she’s sealed within the house with some kind of binding. If it’s anything like the other spirit barrier, then we’d need to destroy it before banishing her.”
“But wouldn’t destroying it set her free?” asked Hazel.
“She has a point,” said River. “The Gatekeeper ordered the attack on your life…”
“She’s conscious.” Chills ran down my arms. “She… oh god. She’s still Gatekeeper, which means she must still have her magic, even as a ghost. Like a wraith… but human.”
I hadn’t got close enough to sense her, but if she was in any way like the other wraiths, she’d be little more than contained emotion, trapped… and probably not happy about the situation. Freeing her would unleash the entirety of the Winter Gatekeeper’s wildly uncontained magic into the already-volatile Ley Line. At best, everywhere on the Ley Line up and down the country would experience wild bursts of dangerous spiritual activity. At worst… the barrier between earth and the Grey Vale would tear open again, potentially triggering another invasion.
“Shit,” said Hazel quietly. “We can’t set her free.”
But I can’t banish her as she is. Think, Ilsa. “River… is it possible to set up two spirit circles at once? If, say, we put our own circle around the territory, and then switched off the one binding her to the house, she’d still be trapped.”
“Yes, she would,” River said. “Then we’d be able to banish her. But Holly has those two faerie-necromancers on her side. I suspect they’re the ones who set it up. We need to strike first. Take them out of the equation.”
It took me a split second to grasp that he meant killing them. And quickly. After the last few days, I had no doubt that I was capable of it, and that they deserved it, but Hazel’s face had paled and she shook her head. “I can try… but my power is intended to be used to keep the peace, not destroy.”
“So is Holly’s,” I reminded her. “We can’t kill her—there has to be a Gatekeeper, otherwise the Courts will turn on one another.”
“That’s it,” Hazel said, leaping to her feet. “The Sidhe. If they find out the Winter Gatekeeper is dead… you said Holly didn’t mention it to them?”
“No. I can’t figure out why,” I admitted. “But you’re right—if they find out she’s dead, then Holly will inherit the power. The Gatekeeper will lose her magic and I’ll be able to free her without setting her magic loose.”
Hazel slumped back onto her chair. “Great idea, but there’s one small problem. I can’t call the Sidhe. Believe me, if I could, I would already have.”
There was an explosion of feathers, and Arden appeared in the middle of the room. “I can assist with that.”
“You knew how to get into the Courts the whole time?” Hazel all but screamed at him.
“You’re a traitor,” I said, jumping to my feet. “You said I had to find the heir to Summer. That whole thing was a setup to lure me here so Holly could steal my magic.”
“And you framed us,” Hazel added. “Using our mark. On the graves.”
The raven perched on the chair. “Unfortunately, I am unable to disobey a command from either of the Gatekeepers.”
“So it was definitely her.” I glared at him. “Is the Winter Gatekeeper pulling the strings, or Holly? Or both? You know what, I can’t trust a word you say. You’ve played us too many times, and you said yourself you only obey Mum or the Winter Gatekeeper.”
“I am a Lynn,” the raven said. “That means I cannot harm any of you. I can’t say I’m a fan of war, either. The last one was an inconvenience.”
“You’re such a colossal piece of shit,” Hazel said. “If you really want to do your job, I’m giving you a message. Fly through the gates, find the nearest available Sidhe, and inform them that the Lynn treaty is being breached. Oh yeah, and it might be the end of the world as we know it. Not that they give a flying fuck. It’ll probably take them twelve years to show up.”
“Caw,” said Arden. “I will always protect the Lynn bloodline. They will come.”
And he soared out the window, scattering black feathers in his wake.
Hazel and I looked at one another. “I don’t trust him,” she said.
“Nor me, but the Winter Sidhe were right there. By the gate. I wish they’d stayed long enough to see what Holly did.”
“Yeah… I just don’t understand why Mum didn’t know about any of this.”
“Maybe she did,” I said. “If she’s stuck in Faerie, her options are limited.”
Maybe she knew, maybe not… but River had been sent to guard the Gatekeeper.
Me.
Someone in Faerie knew about the book… I just had to hope they were on my side. And that I’d find out the truth, if I survived this.
A blast of icy cold air shook the room. The lights flickered and went out, plunging us into darkness.
“Damn,” said Hazel. “Another wraith?”
“I don’t think so,” River said. “Look at that.”
Green light shone from his palms, lighting up the room. Frost crept across the windows, icicles forming before our eyes. My arms broke out in goosebumps, a chill breeze sweeping through the room as though someone had left a window open. Like inside the Winter estate.
Hazel made
a choked noise. “I—I think the house’s magic has switched off.”
“Winter,” I said. “Holly. Or—”
“I worried about this.” River took a step towards the door. “The Gatekeeper—she’s far stronger than a regular spirit, and she has her magic. I think she’s trying to break out.”
“Oh hell.” I turned to Hazel. “Are you ready? If the house’s magic’s fading, the barriers…”
“They’ve already fallen.” She swore and ran from the room, into Mum’s workshop. “Need any weapons?”
“Yeah, I threw all my iron at those necromancers. They’re part faerie, if it helps.” I ran to join her, replacing the iron and salt containers in my pockets, and finally sticking the book in my coat’s upper pocket within easy reach.
River appeared behind me, a bag slung over his shoulder. “The candles,” he said in explanation. “We need to move fast. Holly’s doubtless trying to drive us off the territory.”
“Yeah. I hope she thinks we’ll run to hide in the village rather than attacking the house directly. She probably thinks Hazel’s alone in here, and that you and I are dead.”
It’d been close. Too close. And more would die if we didn’t stop her. Maybe even the Sidhe. Whether there’d ever been a Summer heir at all—one thing was clear. The Sidhe could die. And Holly Lynn and her half-dead mother might be the end of them.
I put the last of my weapons into my coat pocket. “That’ll have to do. I can’t take any of them with me if I end up in Death again…”
“Try not to,” Hazel said. “You scared the living crap out of me, Ilsa.”
“I might not have a choice,” I admitted. “This is what I am. The Gatekeeper.”
Hazel nodded. I saw my own fear in her eyes—the fear that we’d never see Mum again. But that determined glint was still there, and her face was set.
“Let’s go show them why you never mess with the Lynn family.”
21
We walked in silence, approaching the fence. I’d never known the estate so quiet. It felt wrong, like something was missing that went beyond the Gatekeeper. I found myself shivering, and the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees since our return from Death. Already, snow settled on our own yard. The sky was murky grey, the air chilly and biting, and the field beyond was blanketed in snow. I tugged on thick gloves and climbed the fence for the third time in the last twenty-four hours, the others on my heels.
The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy Page 19