The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “I didn’t mean to kill him.” She swallowed. “He came here on his own account… they all did. I—she locked me into a faerie vow. I couldn’t tell anyone what had happened to her. I was trying to get them to understand what she was doing, but they didn’t get it until it was almost too late.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, though it wasn’t. She’d still been involved in plotting against my family, whatever her reasons. But she was Winter Gatekeeper now. And the Sidhe would punish her no matter what.

  Rustling came from behind me. River approached, retrieving the candles one at a time. Aside from the snow dusting his clothes, he looked unhurt. Snowflakes settled in his fair hair, but his warm smile could have melted ice. I took a step towards him—and Hazel gasped. River stood at alertness as cold air whirled towards us. I tensed, turning to the forest, and the Winter gate swung open with barely a whisper.

  Three Sidhe approached on steeds as white as the fallen snow, the same ones as before. I forced myself to keep still, though I barely had the energy to stand. The Sidhe warriors’ faces were expressionless, and in my exhausted state, they blurred into one. All wore the same silver mail that glistened in the sunlight. As did their weapons. Their glowing blue eyes were the only constant. Judging, terrifying, condemning.

  Hazel stepped forward. “I’m the Gatekeeper’s heir to Summer,” she said. “Your heir betrayed you, and all of Faerie. We stopped her.”

  A silver-haired female Sidhe spoke first. Her eyes were on Holly. “You are responsible for putting all the realms, and the truce, at risk.”

  Holly finally turned around. “Your people saw what had become of my mother. You chose to do nothing.”

  “Your trials are not ours.”

  “We serve you,” she said, her voice growing louder. “My whole family has. And when she tried to steal power that wasn’t hers, I tried to stop her. I was nearly too late. She’d have attacked you.”

  “How dare you steal our magic?” she said. “You have forfeited the right to a place in our realm.”

  “Good!” Holly shouted. “I never wanted to be your servant. You let my mother die. You left me to handle the fallout. And if you want to keep your word, you have to take me into your realm now. I’m Gatekeeper.”

  “You will be banished henceforth from Faerie,” said the Winter Sidhe, pointing her staff at Holly. “On pain of death, you will never set foot near Summer nor Winter territory again. You are no longer heir, but you will forever bear those marks as penance.”

  The silvery lines on Holly’s face gleamed. She stepped forward, choking on a wordless protest. But she couldn’t ignore a direct order from the Sidhe. Her feet moved, and though the strain and desperation showed on her face, she turned her back on the gate and walked away.

  There was no longer a Lynn heir to Winter.

  The Winter Sidhe turned back to Hazel and me. I remained still, frozen.

  “It seems the Winter Court owes you their gratitude for stopping that creature,” she said.

  Wait… she was talking to me?

  She snapped her fingers, and Arden appeared beside her, in raven form.

  “This one tells me you broke your own contract in acting against the Winter Gatekeeper,” the Sidhe added.

  “Excuse me?” said Hazel. “We haven’t even seen this contract. They attacked us first, tried to frame us for murder, and killed two people. Maybe more.”

  “Wait,” I said to the Winter Sidhe. “Arden told you? But he betrayed us. He tried to stop me from binding the Winter Gatekeeper’s spirit.”

  “The bird holds no allegiance to any party. Your contract, however… if there is no Winter Gatekeeper, there will no longer be a Summer one, either.”

  “The Summer Court will be the judge of that.” Another female voice rang out as though from a loudspeaker overhead.

  Three Sidhe appeared in a flash of white light. They too rode horses, and were dressed in gleaming armour in gold and green shades.

  Summer ambassadors to Faerie.

  24

  Winter and Summer faced one another, not exactly with hate, more a kind of icy politeness. On the Winter Sidhe’s part, at least. The group of us mortals might as well have faded from existence. For a moment, they exchanged words in the faerie tongue. From their mannerisms, they weren’t declaring war, at least.

  “I didn’t think they’d actually show,” Hazel whispered. “It’d have been nice to have their help, right?”

  “Yeah, but an hour late is better than a year. Arden must have been insistent.”

  But where was Mum? For a brief, ridiculous moment, I’d hoped to see her there amongst the Summer faeries, but she was nowhere to be seen. The Sidhe finally turned their attention onto us. The central Summer faerie, a tall female with olive skin and gold and green finery, looked down at us as though surveying her kingdom from on high. “Which of you is the Gatekeeper’s heir?”

  “I am,” Hazel said, “but it’s Ilsa who saved all your necks.”

  “Is that so?” All eyes focused on me. I looked down, partly due to nerves, partly because the combined strength of their stares was too much. Too intense. Their magic could break me into a thousand tiny pieces.

  But someone in Faerie made the book. A talisman.

  One of the Summer Sidhe addressed River. “You,” he said. “You were assigned to guard the Lynn girl, correct?”

  “Actually, I was assigned to the Gatekeeper’s heir,” he said. “And it’s true. Ilsa saved both realms.”

  “Explain.”

  It wasn’t a request, but a command. Somehow, between the three of us, we got the story out. Either Grandma’s restriction had lifted or the Sidhe’s magic somehow neutralised it, because I told them about the book—the best I could, anyway. Finally, I stopped, feeling as drained as though I’d run a mile.

  There was a pause.

  “She is not to blame,” said the Summer female faerie. “Neither of the Summer children are responsible for the actions of Winter.”

  “And us?” said the Winter female who’d spoken first. “We are without an heir and representative. You should give yours up, too. It’s only right.”

  “Whatever your heir did, the curse is binding.”

  My heart sank. Maybe there’d be a war after all. “Can’t you forget the contract and set us all free?” I asked. Apparently I was channelling Holly after all. Hazel shot me an alarmed look, but the Sidhe didn’t move to strike me.

  “Absolutely not,” said the Summer Sidhe. “You swore a vow, and that holds.”

  “Our ancestor did,” I said. “It’s not our fault the Winter Gatekeeper is dead. If it bothers you that much, let Holly come back. She’s better than the alternative. There are no other living Lynns.”

  Technically, there was our brother, but we hadn’t heard from him since Mum disowned him. And he wasn’t magical, so not a candidate. Only Holly had ever inherited the Gatekeeper’s power.

  “Find her,” commanded the Winter Sidhe. “If she doesn’t present herself to us by the next solstice, then you will face the consequences yourself.”

  The Winter faeries turned on the spot, the gates opening once more. As one, they rode into blinding light.

  “Looks like we have to find an heir after all,” I said, with a wry smile. “But it’ll be okay. Holly stands in, nobody goes to war, and we deal with the rest later.”

  “Poor Holly,” said Hazel quietly. “We shouldn’t have any trouble finding her. It’s not like she can leave the Ley Line.”

  I looked up at another flash of light. The Summer Sidhe had turned away as though intent on returning to their own Court.

  “Wait,” I called after them. “Can one of you tell me where our mother is? She’s in Faerie, but she hasn’t been in touch. We really need to tell her about all this.”

  “Word will be passed onto her,” said the leading Sidhe, without turning around. “That useful bird of yours will hand her the details.”

  “You’re still employing Arden?” My voice rose. “H
e’s working for Winter as well.”

  The female Sidhe turned around, her green eyes cold. “The shapeshifter has always been neutral.”

  “Mum didn’t tell me that,” Hazel said. “She needs to know there was a threat, at the very least.”

  “As I said,” the female Sidhe enunciated clearly, “I will see to it that the information reaches her. You need to fix the boundaries on your territory.”

  Oh no. Winter’s magic had wiped out our defences. “But—” I ran after as she turned her horse around again. “But the book. The talisman. Can you tell me who made it?”

  “No,” she said. “I know no talisman but my own. That particular talisman does not belong to Faerie, so it has nothing to do with us.”

  “Wait—”

  Light flashed, and they were gone.

  “Dammit,” I said.

  “Mum will come back,” Hazel said confidently. “She always does. The important thing is that we’re alive, nobody’s going to war—oh yeah, and you’re a certifiable badass.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going by instinct on this necromancer power, mostly. And I’m still not joining the guild.” My smile faded when I spotted their leader’s body. River stood beside him, muttering under his breath. A moment later, candles flared, devouring the fallen necromancer. I walked over to join him.

  “His last request,” River said. “Necromancers burn their dead.”

  “I know. I just—I guess it didn’t really hit me that he’s gone. Who will be his replacement?”

  “He’ll decide himself.”

  I blinked. Then I concentrated on letting the greyness slide over my vision, my spirit sight taking control. And sure enough… Mr Greaves floated beside his older counterpart.

  “What are you staring at, girl?” he said. His eyes were on my forehead.

  “Guess you know what I am, now.”

  “What you are is a menace.”

  I folded my arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time to save you, but you’re being a dick.”

  “Unfortunately for you, you don’t get to choose who you meet in life or death.”

  “Unfortunately for you, I have no shortage of other necromancers to ask about my powers, and I’m not about to give up my role.”

  The book didn’t belong to Faerie. But since when had talismans ever been forged here in the mortal realm? Usually they were made from the hearts of Faerie’s most ancient trees. Unless it’d been made in the Courts and ended up here later. Mysteries only concealed more mysteries, and Holly’s house lay in ruins, the only source of information buried along with it.

  No. That can’t be it. There’ll be records. I’d ask Grandma, for a start, and now I could enter the spirit realm, I could question the necromancers, too.

  I let my spirit sight recede, a thrill going through me at how easy it was. Maybe it wasn’t the power I’d have chosen, but River was proof that necromancy was far more versatile than I’d originally thought.

  I looked around at the ruined house. Nothing to do for the Winter estate. Presumably Holly’s magic would fix it, if she came back. That could wait. We had a tremendous mess to clean up, and all I really wanted was a long, warm shower, and a decent, wraith-free night’s sleep. River looked like he needed the same, though he still managed to look absurdly attractive under all the dirt and grime.

  “You’re a natural,” he said in an approving tone. “I’d like to see what else you can do.”

  I grinned. “You should know, I’m an academic, not a warrior.”

  “Could have fooled me,” he said. “My mission might be over, but you need someone to talk you through that book.”

  “I thought you hadn’t seen it before.” I lifted the book, flipping it open. The pages shimmered, but still had text on them. “You seem confident you’re going to see me again.”

  “I’d like to see you again, Ilsa Lynn.”

  How did he make my name sound so seductive? How? “I won’t be here,” I told him. “Some of the time, I mean. I do still have a job to go back to.” The thought of my normal co-workers ever finding out about this was laughable, and hell, I couldn’t imagine fitting into that life the way I was now. But though I might be Gatekeeper, nothing in that title meant Faerie owned me. I was free to go wherever I liked.

  “I’ll come and find you,” River said. “But I have to return to the Sidhe now that my task is complete.” Green light shone from his palms, and his eyes gleamed with magic. His expression was a mixture of resignation and steely determination. I almost expected him to fight the pull of the faerie vow, and drag me with him. And some wild part of me would have let him do just that.

  No. You’ve had enough close calls with faerie magic lately.

  Instead, I said, “They won’t punish you for what happened—right?” They’d better not. Not after everything we’d done.

  “I helped keep you alive, which fulfils the requirements of the vow, and with any luck, they’ll believe me when I tell them that the Winter Gatekeeper was the conspirator against the Court. I’ll see you soon, Ilsa.”

  “What?” I said as white light outlined his body. “Oh, come on. Won’t they at least let us say a proper goodbye—?”

  His hand brushed mine. “I think you know by now that in Faerie, as in death, magic runs on its own rules.” Behind him, light rushed in, and he was gone.

  “Dammit,” I muttered. I hadn’t even got a real-world kiss out of our whole misadventure.

  Hazel gave me a self-satisfied look. “Told you he likes you.”

  I blinked the light’s glare from my eyes. “He’s off to Faerie. I wouldn’t get my hopes up on them letting him come back within the same week, or even year.”

  “But he will,” Hazel said. “Hopefully with news of where Mum is.”

  “Shit,” I said. “That means we have to fix the house. Otherwise, no book or magic will hide us from her wrath.”

  Hazel cracked a grin. “Nope. Even though you’re a Gatekeeper in your own right. That makes you her equal, power-wise.”

  “Not in terms of training,” I said. “Or wisdom, or whatever else it is she used to tell you in Gatekeeper lessons.”

  “You eavesdropped on our lessons?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I did.” I wasn’t ashamed of it anymore—how desperate I’d been back then, to have magic. I’d let it go long before Holly had misused her own powers. But I couldn’t deny that now I had magic of my own, the idea of being amongst supernaturals again… I could see it. I’d spoken to the Sidhe and walked away in one piece.

  “Then it’s only fair I get to spy on yours.” Hazel ducked, grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at me.

  “Hey!” I said indignantly.

  “How many times are we going to get near the Winters’ lawn?” She grabbed another snowball.

  I did likewise. “Okay, you asked for it.”

  For a moment, as I doused my sister in snow, I forgot the gate at the back and the responsibilities hanging over my head. The role of the Gatekeeper. The answers lay buried somewhere in our history, and the future was unknown, but for now, none of that mattered.

  Hereditary Curse

  Hereditary Curse

  Ilsa Lynn has survived her first few weeks as Gatekeeper between mortal and spirit worlds, but her problems are just beginning.

  The source of her magic remains as shrouded in mystery as her family's past, while the necromancers are keen to recruit her as one of their own. And then there's River, the tempting faerie-necromancer, placed in charge of her training. Keeping her abilities quiet seems impossible with wraiths haunting her every step, let alone an estranged family member with a secret of his own appearing on the doorstep.

  When a dark evil sets its sights on her family, it'll take everything Ilsa has to lay the spirit to rest before she ends up six feet under—permanently.

  1

  The ghost wailed, his hands buried in my neck. It was seriously beginning to creep me out.

  “Look, I’m sorry you’r
e dead,” I told the man. “If you want to know what happens next, you’ll have to ask a necromancer. I’m not one.”

  Thankfully. I was Ilsa Lynn, Gatekeeper-in-training, and an unfortunate side effect of my new role was the ability to see and speak to the dead. Now the local ghosts had picked up on the fact that I could see and hear them, I couldn’t go more than a minute without one of them tagging along after me. They complained, howled, refused to believe they were dead, and this guy was in desperate denial that I wasn’t the one who’d shuffled off this mortal coil.

  “Can you stop doing that?” I didn’t exactly feel pain when the ghost pawed at my insides, just an uncomfortable sort of cold like stepping into the shower fully-clothed.

  “Are you sure you’re not dead?” said the ghost. “I can’t be. I was alive.”

  “That’s usually the way,” I responded. “Is there any particular reason you stuck around?”

  There didn’t have to be a reason for a ghost to get trapped here after death. Since the faeries attacked the mortal realm, the lines between human and spirit realms had been screwed up, too, and ghost appearances were more frequent than they used to be. Often they didn’t remember their own names, and they had the attention span of a hyped-up toddler hand in hand with a desperate need for attention. Which was kind of unfortunate, considering most people couldn’t even see them.

  I was starting to think that maintaining a quiet existence in a city full of ghosts like Edinburgh was a futile prospect.

  “I need to find Becka and tell her I’m going to be home late tonight.”

  “Pretty sure she already knows,” I said. “You’ve been here a day.” I’d seen the ghost floating around the same spot on the road several times over the last twenty-four hours, long since they’d removed his body after he’d been hit by a car. Ghosts usually haunted either the place where they’d died, or somewhere important to them.

  “Oh,” he said faintly. “I’m really dead, aren’t I?”