The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  He looked down at his ragged clothes with an expression of vague confusion, and climbed to his feet. At least he’d sobered up, but how’d he gone for years hearing ghostly voices and never thought to consult a necromancer? Telepathy might not be an option, but it didn’t sound like he was reading minds. Not of the living, anyway.

  What in hell is wrong with our family?

  9

  At nine, Morgan and I left for the guild. While I wore my cloak, he’d pulled out a spare outfit identical to the one he’d already been wearing, only cleaner. Hardly worse than what I’d been wearing when I’d first been to the guild myself, so I didn’t nag him. River messaged me saying he’d speak with Morgan while I took the exam I’d almost forgotten about. I also needed to speak to Lady Montgomery about last night’s incident, but I’d deal with one crisis at a time.

  “Last chance to change your mind,” I told Morgan as we reached the high street. “I’ll be in the shit if you refuse, but I’m fairly sure I am anyway.”

  He eyed the black-cloaked figures approaching the guild. “Nah, I’ll go ahead with it. Not like I had other plans today.”

  “Sure.” I hadn’t really expected an apology, but it’d have been nice to have some acknowledgement of how much of a shit show he’d managed to turn my life into in the space of two days. Between him and Hazel, it was no wonder I’d had trouble making and keeping friends when we’d been kids. I spotted River speaking to two other necromancers I didn’t know, and walked over to him.

  “Hey,” River said, nodding to Morgan. “Ilsa, Lady Montgomery is busy, so she’ll speak to you after you’re done with the test. The council have offered to take your circumstances into account and postpone it, if you’d prefer.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll get it over with. What about Morgan?”

  “These two have generously offered to do some introductory tests to determine if he has necromantic powers or not.”

  Okay. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Sure. Talk to you later, Morgan.”

  He merely grunted in response, looking around the entrance hall as though suddenly regretting his decision. No ghosts or undead could follow him in here, so any trouble he got into was entirely his own fault.

  It was a wonder I managed to focus enough to answer all the questions on the test, but I’d read enough of the handbook to easily be able to write detailed answers. The moderator was nice enough to let me leave early, but Lady Montgomery put a wrench in my plans to sneak off and check on Morgan by waylaying me outside the testing room door.

  “Er—hi,” I said. “Is my brother around?”

  “He’s still undergoing testing, but he shows clear signs of being a psychic sensitive.”

  I stared at her. “A… psychic?” I asked. “You mean, like a telepath or something similar?”

  “Similar, but rare,” she said. “He seems to be able to pick up on any ghosts in the vicinity and hear their thoughts. If he’s psychically sensitive, it might be that the voice he heard wasn’t anywhere near him.”

  “Oh.” That made a lot of sense. “But—where was it? I guess he doesn’t have the spirit sight.”

  “Not so far, but he can definitely sense spirits.”

  “He picked up on the creature at the cemetery yesterday,” I said. “I think he did, anyway. And he says he’s been hearing one ghost fairly consistently all the way from Oban. I didn’t know ghosts could travel long distances, but if it’s been in the same place the whole time…”

  “Very few ghosts would be able to project their thoughts over such a long distance,” she said. “I’d be inclined to say he was mistaken, but he definitely has potential. I think the spirit sight might come naturally to him with a little encouragement.”

  “What—you want to train him as a necromancer?”

  “Personally? No. Some of the others feel differently.”

  They do? Wow. I hadn’t given him enough credit, apparently. “I didn’t know you could encourage necromantic talent if it isn’t already there.”

  “Oh, it’s there, all right,” she said, sounding less than thrilled at the idea. I didn’t blame her in the slightest. But who knew, maybe being a necromancer-in-training would encourage Morgan to get his life back on track. “Considering he’s already been targeted, this might be the safest place for him.”

  I couldn’t argue there. “Sure. Is there anything else you need me to do today?”

  “River will come and find you later for training, but you’re free until the exam period finishes.”

  I’d finished half an hour early, so I went in search of the archives. There, I found Jas sitting at a table filling out a form. “Hey,” she said. “I’m working on a report. Are you looking for anything in particular in here?”

  “I’m looking for someone who might have worked for this guild,” I said. “Several someones. Is there anyone on record with the surname Lynn?”

  She frowned. “Not that I’m aware of. I was asked to look into the name after you signed up.”

  Lady Montgomery really covered the bases, huh. So Jas hadn’t been assigned to me by accident—Lady Montgomery had probably asked her to report everything I said and did, on the off-chance that my actions threatened the guild or the safety of the city.

  “Take it you didn’t find anything incriminating?” I asked.

  “No,” she said, tapping her pen on the table. “You’re off the charts for a hybrid, but that’s not so unusual.”

  “It isn’t?” I’d thought River was an exception.

  “Very few of us have two necromancer parents,” she said. “The spirit sight can stay dormant for generations. Tons of humans in the old world had the ability with no clue about it, since the veil wasn’t always this screwed up. So most of us are hybrids in that sense.”

  “Are you?” I asked.

  “Sure I am. I’m more witch than necromancer, but I was a magical dud.” Her mouth turned down at the corners again. “So no coven would take me. I’m like, an eighth necromancer, but my spirit sight registers higher than my ability to use magic. So here I am, volunteering in the archives to stay on Lady Montgomery’s good side.”

  “You’re her assistant?”

  “On a temporary basis. I’ve been at the same level for a while.” She put down the pen. “I didn’t meant to offload on you… is there anything else you’re looking for?”

  “On the subject of hybrids,” I said, “are there any necromancers with faerie ancestry on record? Aside from current guild members.”

  “That’s not something we keep track of, since as I said, it doesn’t really mean anything,” she said. “Is this about that creature?”

  I nodded. “There were two necromancers I ran into lately who broke the law in a major way. They’re dead, but they had the same abilities as the person who summoned that creature which attacked us. Only faeries have that ability, but I assumed they had formal training from somewhere. But they might have used aliases. They could use glamour, too.”

  “We don’t track our member’s secondary talents. Generally half-mages or half-witches favour their other magical side over ours. And half-faeries, too.”

  I’d suspected as much. Maybe this wasn’t where I should be looking, but there were hundreds of half-faeries in the city, and surely a portion of them had necromantic talents. River wasn’t that unusual.

  Looked like I needed to start somewhere else if I wanted to track the culprit. Part of the issue with ghosts was that usual tracking methods didn’t work on them. And since the book refused to tell me how people summoned wraiths, except that it involved evil magic, I didn’t have a clue where to start looking.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked.

  “I don’t suppose you have any books on the faerie ghosts? River can’t be the only person who knows about them. Sluaghs, wraiths… that type of thing.”

  “That’ll be confidential. I believe Lady Montgomery keeps those in her office.”

  Typical. “Thanks anyway,” I said, re
signed, and left the archive room. Maybe I was better off using the book and hoping the gates of death didn’t swallow up everyone around me…

  “Hey,” said River, stepping out in front of me. “Lady Montgomery sent me to find you. I have a free hour for training. Is there anything you’d like to work on?”

  “For a start, is there anything on my current skill level which might help me find out which ghost is screwing with my brother?”

  “Not if the ghost isn’t close by. Thanks to the iron within these walls, it can’t bother him here. I’ve been talking to Lady Montgomery about the situation and it might be best for him to stay here for the time being. You said he tried to walk outside last night…”

  “Yeah, he unlatched the door while sleepwalking on the orders of a deranged ghost,” I said, smothering a sigh. “I can’t watch him twenty-four seven, but I don’t see how I’m supposed to track this thing when it might be hidden. I guess I’m never going to develop a similar ability?”

  He shook his head. “If you were, it would already have happened.”

  “I just don’t see who would try and target my brother. They don’t need to torment him to get at me either, considering I’m just as easy to find.”

  A thoughtful look came over his face. “Did Morgan tell you whether he chose to unlock the door of his own accord or not?”

  “What—you think he’s possessed?”

  “No, he wouldn’t have been able to get in here if he was. Also, no spirit can possess a person for longer than few seconds without requiring a major energy surge. If I had to guess, the spirit influencing him has some sort of psychic element of its own.”

  “It,” I said. “You mean, not human. Don’t tell me there are evil psychic Vale faeries on top of everything else.”

  “Psychic abilities are even rarer amongst faeries than humans, if they exist at all. But it’s possible someone, or something, has picked up on his talent and is exploiting it. I’ll have to look into the matter further.”

  “It’d help if he could remember what it actually said to him,” I said. “All he said is that it’s been bugging him for a week.”

  “We can ask him later,” he said. “For now—I’m supposed to be training you in necromancer skills. Is there anything in particular you want to cover, or do you feel like you have all the basics down? If you’d prefer, I could teach you how to fight with a sword. We have a training room here.”

  “No thanks,” I said. “I think I’ll stick with the necromancy. I have binding and banishing spirits down… what about summoning them? We haven’t covered that yet.”

  “It’s fairly straightforward. I’m afraid we’re going to have to go to one of the testing rooms again.”

  “It’s cool.” It’s also quiet. Not that the freezing, haunted room was a particularly appropriate place for romantic trysts, but I’d take what alone time with River I could get. And if I could summon ghosts, maybe I could do the same for the creature haunting my brother.

  We left the room and walked down the corridor, thankfully going into a different room to the one with the ghost of the old man inside it. This one was actually lit with artificial lighting, with a circle of candles in the centre. Still bloody cold, though. I found myself moving closer to River for warmth.

  “So I can summon anyone here? Any necromancer or ghost?” I asked.

  “No, just Guardians. Otherwise the spirit must be present within the city. I don’t know the precise range, but it’s only a few miles. And they must be recently dead. Even then, they usually don’t appear for long. The necromancers who specialise in helping to solve murder cases or summon deceased relatives to resolve family disputes generally find it easier to take their own props closer to the scene of death.”

  “Makes sense. Wait, can I summon old Greaves from here?”

  “Yes, you can. You know his name, that’s enough. I think you should read the actual text this time rather than copying the book.”

  “Knew I wouldn’t be able to get away with cheating forever.” I opened the necromancy handbook, and felt the talisman move slightly in my pocket, perhaps in protest at my ignoring it.

  “I wouldn’t say it counts as cheating considering your position as Gatekeeper,” he said. “But I think it’s wise to learn the text as backup.”

  In case I lose the book? At the thought, coldness trailed down my spine. Okay, that thing had way too much influence over me even when I wasn’t touching it. I ignored the book and read over the text in the necromancy guide instead.

  “The necromancer language isn’t an actual language, is it?” I said. “It sort of reads like Latin crossed with Scots Gaelic, but it’s pronounced like modern English. Did someone make it up?”

  “You caught us,” River said, with a slight smile. “It’s not the words so much as the intention. Some of our older Guardians insist on using actual Latin with the proper pronunciation, but considering none of them actually spoke the language while they were still alive, I’m convinced they were just trying to mess with the new recruits.”

  “Because it makes you look sophisticated and cultured, until you meet someone who’s actually fluent in Latin. I haven’t learnt Gaelic since I was in school, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t it either.”

  “No. You can try switching the words out, but you have to learn it the proper way to pass your exams.”

  “Figures.” I faced the circle, feeling oddly self-conscious with River watching me. The talisman’s persistent tapping sensation in my head didn’t help. I read from the page, River occasionally correcting my pronunciation. He was a patient teacher, more so than I’d expected. When the older Mr Greaves actually appeared, I jumped.

  “You,” he said. “This place looks familiar.”

  “Edinburgh Necromancer Guild,” I said. “Sorry I uprooted you.”

  “The guild? So you’re making use of your talents after all. I sensed so little disturbance back in the spirit world in Foxwood, I thought you’d retired from your troublemaking ways.”

  “So nothing’s happened back there?” I asked. Hazel hadn’t mentioned any new incidents, suggesting Holly was keeping her distance.

  “Nothing you’d find reason to return for. It’s been dull, if anything. Is there any reason you called me here?”

  “Just to check up on the village,” I said. “And see who I could summon from here. I wondered—is there a way to track one particular spirit? Like a tracking spell, but for the dead?”

  “Normally? No. As Gatekeeper… perhaps there is.”

  “The book won’t tell me,” I said. “I think it’s fixed so it only shows me skills of my own level, and it’s reverted me back to the basics. Better than blank pages, but not particularly helpful right now.”

  “Careful, Gatekeeper. The power you hold is beyond most people. If misapplied, it could destroy you.”

  “I know.” I wouldn’t forget holding the gates of Death open, seconds from being sucked into the void. “But if I don’t use this power, people get hurt. Most people can’t even see wraiths, much less kill them. And even I can’t detect them until they’re on top of me.”

  “I may be able to assist with that,” he said. “Do you have a spirit sensor?”

  “We do,” I said.

  “They’re usually about ten percent accurate,” River said.

  “I didn’t know that,” I said. “That’s… not helpful.”

  “Spirits aren’t easy to track,” said old Mr Greaves. “But I see no reason why the sensor wouldn’t pick up on wraiths as well. As an added bonus, it works as an exterminator on ghosts.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I suppose it’s better than—”

  A shout came from outside. Alarmed, I stepped away from the circle, and the lights went out, plunging us into darkness.

  River swore. “We’re under attack. Something slipped through the defences.”

  “How?” Please say Morgan wasn’t involved.

  Feeling my way to the door with my hand, I pushed it open. In the cor
ridor, lights flickered on and off and a bitterly cold breeze raised the hair on my arms. I tapped into my spirit sight, but the glowing tangle of necromancers’ spirits coupled with paler lights that presumably belonged to resident ghosts made it all but impossible to pinpoint anything out of place in the spirit world.

  River took off down the corridor, stopping at the weapons room, where I took my chance to grab a spirit sensor as well as an iron knife.

  “I’m not the only faerie here,” he said. “And I think one of them might just have been unmasked.”

  “What—how?”

  I tapped into the spirit sight again as we ran, scanning for anyone familiar. My senses honed in one particular spirit, which kept flickering from bright to pale, from living to dead.

  Jas… she was dying.

  What the hell attacked her?

  Gripping the spirit sensor, I ran after River into the lobby. There, necromancers ran around in a panic, while Jas lay in a pool of blood, a horrified-looking Lloyd crouched over her.

  “It’s my fault,” said Lloyd, faintly. “Jas told me what you said, Ilsa—about faeries being able to use glamour, and we caught someone stealing from the archives. When we chased them, they transformed…”

  Morgan ran up to me, looking panicked. “What’s going on?”

  “Rogue faerie, loose in here,” I said. “It shouldn’t be able to hide with so much iron around. How’d it even get in?”

  “Faeries can bypass iron wards as long as it’s possible to walk past without touching them.” River looked down at Jas with a horrified expression. “I should have foreseen this.”

  “It’s not your fault. I put the idea into their heads and now she’s—” My breath choked. “I have to fix this.”

  I switched on my spirit sense, drawing on all the book’s power, searching for any intruder.

  Morgan yelled and dropped to his knees. “Stop that!” he yelped.

  I switched off my spirit sight. “What is it?”

  “You’re fucking loud, Ilsa.”

  I stared at him. “Did you just read my thoughts?”