The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “Let’s make for the guild,” River said in a low voice. “Before—” He stopped, drawing his blade.

  An undead lumbered towards us, bringing a foul stench on the breeze. Behind, a dark mass appeared, the air swirling.

  I stilled, swearing under my breath, as the swirling darkness resolved into a human-shaped figure. Icy air slammed into us, ripping branches off trees, rattling the windows in the nearby houses. The ground froze beneath my feet, icicles forming on nearby windows. Winter magic.

  I shouted the banishing words, and the wraith fell back, but didn’t vanish. Instead, the undead lunged forwards, his hands icing over.

  Morgan hit the exterminator. A jet of concentrated salt sent undead and wraith alike flying backwards, exploding into dust.

  “Thanks,” I gasped.

  “Is there anything you didn’t steal from the guild?” River asked.

  “Don’t answer that,” I told Morgan. “Let’s find that ghost. I knew she was behind it. Maybe that half-faerie wanted to warn us.” Or send us into a trap. It didn’t matter at this point.

  “This ghost—who is she?” River asked.

  “Your mother called her Thea Allard. Guess that was her name when she was alive,” I said. “She planned for us to fall victim to the fetch. Let’s give her a rude awakening. Or banishing.”

  “If she could be banished by conventional means, someone would surely have done so already,” said River.

  “Yeah, I know. But I can’t think of another way to find Hazel. If I had the book, I’d have full access to my powers and I’d be able to travel around until I found the hiding place.” I shook my head. “I mean, it’s some consolation to know that they had to drag half a dozen people into this scheme to get their hands on the book, but I guess even my dead relatives didn’t see this one coming. Or whoever created the talisman. This ghost, she duped even the necromancers.”

  “No, she didn’t,” River said. “She wanted to bring them down, and she failed. She can’t destroy them as they are now. Whatever deal she made with the Vale faeries was to further that goal, nothing more.”

  “You think she did make a deal?” I frowned. “That’s what I don’t get. She’s a ghost. I’m assuming she survived this long because she’s basically a necromancer Guardian without the label… but it makes no sense for her to be tethered to the graveyard. Not with the amount of people she has on her side. She must be getting more out of the deal.”

  “A binding spell must have locked her there,” River said. “That’s what I’d guess. But it can’t be undone by mortal hands, otherwise she’d already have got someone to do it.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “She makes no sense. Ghosts aren’t logical, but she has that many people involved… not to mention the book. If I die, the book would probably pass to Morgan. I mean, he’s the logical choice, because Hazel can’t be Gatekeeper twice over.”

  “Maybe the fetch never planned to kill me,” Morgan said quietly. “He planned to possess me. And if I’d had your book…”

  I stopped dead. “I think you’re right. We have to get it back before the fetch rises again. How long do you reckon we have?”

  “Anyone’s guess,” said River. “Considering how messed up the veil is at the moment.”

  Morgan began to run. “I’ll kill the evil bitch,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Dammit.” I started walking after him. “He’s determined to make himself into a martyr.”

  “It seems a shared trait for you Lynns,” River remarked from beside me.

  “Hey, that’s not fair.” At least he didn’t seem too mad about my use of blood magic. So much for the Sacred Oath of Necromancy. “I can’t believe you let your mother lock you up in jail. You knew she planned to sneak you out, right?”

  “Of course I did,” he said calmly. “It’s best for her to give the appearance of keeping the rules.”

  “While we go and smash them into pieces,” I said. “By the way, when this is over, we’re going to have words about the adorable baby pictures of you your mother keeps in the office.”

  “She still has those?” He grinned a little. “I should come back to your house and find yours.”

  “No way.” I smiled back, despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. If I hung onto that image—of River and I being happy, of my family being reunited, I could fool myself into thinking we’d make it out of this alive.

  The ghost waited, floating above her grave, as we approached. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

  “No, I suppose you didn’t. You thought we’d be running around the guild, or locked in their jail… or maybe we’d dive into the sea to follow the rumours of where they hid your body.” I shrugged. “You’re no threat to me. You’re stuck here, aren’t you? I assume you must know what I am. I can get you out of here, if you tell me where my sister is being held hostage.”

  “You know where, Gatekeeper,” she said, with a barely restrained laugh.

  “It was worth a try,” I said, looking at the others. “Get her.”

  I flew out of my body. So did Morgan. He grabbed one arm, and I grabbed the other. As a ghost, she was solid, but cold. “Let go of me, mortals,” she hissed.

  “You’re not so powerful, are you?” I said.

  River strode forwards and stabbed her. She screamed in rage, impaled on his sword, writhing in pain.

  “You possess enough magic to stay alive,” he said. “What are you?”

  What? I looked at her, but I couldn’t tell if she was part faerie. River would know, though.

  “Were you ever a necromancer?” I asked, gripping her arm. “Or both?”

  “That’s why they put me to death. They should have done the same to you.”

  “Too bad things have changed, then,” I said. “Guess it got lonely here over all those years, watching the world move on, with only the fetch for company.”

  “I won’t be alone for long, Gatekeeper. You’ll be joining me soon enough.”

  “No chance, Thea,” River said. “I know who you really are. You’re the original faerie-necromancer, and you’ve been luring others here so you can bring the Vale monsters to our doorstep.”

  “So you have done your research.” She stopped struggling. “The necromancers past were not as cautious as they are now. They always use the candles to contain their rogue spirits because if they don’t, things have a tendency to go very wrong.”

  Several half-faerie ghosts appeared in the gloom, as the grey smoke wreathing the air turned transparent. I caught a brief glimpse of a forest path, grey as the smoke, lifeless and cold… and then it was gone.

  The Vale.

  The spirit broke free of our grip, laughing. River raised his sword, but the half-faeries descended on him, their eyes glowing blue and green. Half-Sidhe… and they still had their magic.

  The first half-faerie deflected River’s sword with a transparent blade of his own. I flew back into my body, ran forward, and stopped. My legs froze, my arms trapped against my sides, and a bone-deep chill seeped through my every nerve.

  That’s not faerie magic. It’s necromancy. The spirits had both types of magic.

  Morgan swore, his hands locked to his sides. Paralysing waves pinned me to the spot. River and the half-faerie continued to trade blows, while the ghost looked on.

  “You’re bored, aren’t you?” I said through gritted teeth, relieved I could still speak. “This is all entertainment to you. You’re stalling for time because I killed your fetch.”

  “I planned to take him out of the picture first,” she said, indicating River. “As for you, Gatekeeper… there’s someone on the other side who wishes to have a word with you.”

  The other side. “The Vale.”

  She’d made a deal with the Vale faeries… but for what purpose? Surely not to preserve her life—or what remained of it. She’d effectively gathered an army of faerie-necromancers who had free run of three realms at once…

  Magic streamed from their hands,
bouncing off my shield. “Is that all you’ve got?” I shouted, trying to draw them away from River. He’d all but disappeared behind a flood of spirits, and while his blade could cut them, he couldn’t kill them. Worse, the grey smoke seeping in suggested that banishing them wouldn’t work either.

  “Destroy them,” said the ghost.

  22

  Two half-faerie ghosts advanced on Morgan and me, one Summer, one Winter. I couldn’t see how Summer magic, which usually revolved around making things grow, might survive death, but if anything, the Winter faerie’s magic glowed brighter than most living ones I’d seen, feeding on the necromantic energy present in the graveyard. Blue energy coalesced in a ball, and shot towards River. He glided out of the way, and the energy harmlessly bounced off my shield instead.

  “That was pathetic,” I shouted. “Go on. You have me tied up helplessly here. Come and get me.”

  Magic bounced off my shield again, and the energy dissipated into the air. They might have enough power keeping them alive, but they’d fade out eventually. And then they’d be sucked beyond the gate.

  Then it’ll be my chance.

  Book or no book, I was Gatekeeper. When the gate was within reach, I’d make sure the ghost passed on to the hell she belonged in. The same went for her servants. River dealt several blows that would have killed them, had they been living, but they clung on mercilessly to life, or what passed for it in the veil. It seemed a miserable choice.

  Morgan swore beside me, sweat standing out on his forehead from fighting against the invisible bonds. “The guy on the left is the one holding us captive,” he muttered. “The blue-eyed one. Get your faerie to hit him harder and this bloody spell will break.”

  The ghostly girl laughed loudly. “You’re only stalling for time, all three of you. Meanwhile, your sister rots in the cold and dark.”

  “I could say the same for you,” I said. “What’s the matter, is glamour all you have? Don’t you have any faerie magic of your own? Or are you too much of a coward to use it?”

  Maybe she doesn’t have magic. I couldn’t tell her eye colour, but they didn’t glow green or blue like a half-Sidhe or even the offspring of a lesser Court faerie. She didn’t even have the trademark pointed ears under the glamour. So what species was she? A human-appearing one, evidently, but not one with powerful magic.

  “You have the nerve to call me a coward, Gatekeeper, when you’ve been holding back on your own power.”

  “Please,” I said. “You were counting on me using it to trigger one of your plans to break the veil. You had to resort to stealing the book because I wouldn’t use it to cooperate with you. I need damn good reason to risk the lives of everyone in the city, and you temper tantrum isn’t one of them. I’ve dealt with humans who were more of a threat than you.”

  The ghost growled in fury. River, meanwhile, swiped at the nearest half-faerie ghost, sending him staggering through a grave. He’d hit the half-faerie whose magic held me captive, and I twitched a hand, sensation returning to my limbs.

  Morgan lunged out of his body at the ghost, but she laughed as his hands closed around her throat. “I can’t be banished, you foolish child.”

  “I don’t see why not,” said Morgan. “You’re not so special.”

  The spirit broke free of his grip and spun around the grave, laughing like a child. She was one, barely sixteen by the look of her. The necromancers had killed her. Maybe she was justified in hating them for that alone, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t dangerous as hell. Even without magic. For all her posturing, she hadn’t attacked us—though being half-faerie and half-necromancer, she ought to have the powers of at least one of those.

  How do you take power off a necromancer? You bind them.

  She was bound here. By a spell more powerful than she herself was, and one she hadn’t managed to get anyone to undo. Maybe that’s why she needed the book.

  “I’m not letting you stall until the fetch comes back,” I shouted at her. “Tell me what you did with my sister.”

  “I didn’t do a thing.” She laughed. “The fetch will come back. It’s undying.”

  “And what does that make you?” I said. “Seriously, this is going to drive me out of my mind. Half-sluagh? You’re almost foul enough, but you look human. Shapeshifter? Or do you really have no magic at all?”

  She hissed in anger. “You know nothing about me, Gatekeeper.”

  “Enlighten me. What do you want with the book? To get your magic back, right?”

  “To watch the necromancers burn,” she whispered. “They deserve worse for what they did. And you’re going to destroy them yourself. It’s almost time.” She smiled. “You’ll die, the same as the last Gatekeeper.”

  The ghost disappeared.

  “What—the fuck?”

  Grey fog seeped across the graveyard. The half-faeries disappeared into the mist, while the world outside was smothered in fog.

  “Get back here!” I shouted. “What the hell do you mean, you killed the Gatekeeper?”

  Silence answered. I stepped back and Morgan appeared at my side. “I vote we get out of this graveyard,” he said.

  “I would too, but can you sense anyone? River, where are you?”

  “Here,” he said from several feet in front of me.

  “I don’t understand.” Understatement of the bloody century. “Maybe the fetch is back.”

  The greyness continued to spread. I grabbed a headstone for balance as cold air blew from somewhere beyond the greyness, sharp and sudden, threatening to rip me free of my body.

  The air shimmered over the grey. Then the smoke went transparent, and before us lay… a castle. Shimmering overlaid the world, but the dark shape remained steady, where the church had been moments before. The graves had gone, leaving nothing but damp grass and shadowy edges.

  “Holy shit,” Morgan breathed. “Where are we?”

  “The Vale?” I said uncertainly.

  “Not the Vale,” River said quietly. “This is—was—a key point where the spirit lines intersect. A liminal space. The human and faerie realms merge here, I would guess. That castle is no human creation.”

  Like the Summer estate. But this place couldn’t be more different even from Winter. The castle sat beneath a night sky, dotted with stars brighter than any I’d seen, and behind it, shadowy edges suggested trees hidden by fog. But all else faded to the background when a familiar pale light reached me from the castle.

  “Oh my god.” I pressed a hand to my chest. “The book. It’s in there—it’s been hidden in a liminal space the whole time.”

  Not the Grey Vale. No… the Vale wasn’t controllable. The fetch must have been operating from here, too. It’d evaded our attention by using the exact same magic our family used to hide the Lynn house. Using a liminal space, a gap between the worlds. The book was inside the castle. Maybe Hazel was, too.

  “I’m going in,” I muttered. “I can’t say it isn’t suspicious that nobody’s guarding the place, but it’s hidden well enough that I suppose they don’t need to.”

  River swore under his breath. “I can’t use magic on the castle. It’s an illusion—a glamour. A really advanced one.”

  “This is basically Faerie, right?” said Morgan. “But… linked up to Earth as well.” He strode up to the door and shoved it. The door didn’t budge. “It’s sealed shut. No lock.”

  “Okay, breaking the door down won’t do it,” I said. “I wouldn’t use magic here. This place has enough power already. Too much. It’ll end up spilling over into the city if we’re not careful.” And where the faeries’ magic went, people died. The whole of Edinburgh was covered in endless spirit lines. It’d only take one misplaced surge of energy for the dead to rise once more.

  “The ghost isn’t here. She can’t leave the graveyard,” said River. “And the book won’t obey her.”

  “She seemed convinced it would. But even if she kills all of us, it’ll go into hibernation. It needs there to be a Lynn as Gatekeeper. And I thou
ght she knew that.”

  “Oh, I know everything about your book,” said the ghost, appearing at my side “This is a nice spell, isn’t it? One of my half-faeries did it.”

  “You can’t leave your graveyard,” I told her.

  “We’re still in the graveyard… technically.” She laughed. “It was a powerful curse, the one your ancestor put on me. She took my power, almost all of it, and trapped me in this cursed human form, as punishment for taking her life. It’s too bad that you let the book slip through your fingers, Ilsa. This need not have happened. If only you’d handed your brother over while you had the chance. The fetch won’t let his victim get away.”

  “What the—?” Morgan broke off, choking, as two half-faeries grabbed him from behind, locking his arms behind his back. “You should be gone by now.”

  “Not as long as the gate is locked.”

  “That’s what you did,” I said. “You locked the gate. With my book’s magic?”

  “It had help.” She waved a hand. The castle walls went see-through, showing me a wide hall with a high ceiling. And in the middle, Hazel lay in a transparent coffin which stood upright, her hands clasped on her chest, around—the book.

  The book glowed bright, yet I felt none of it. I was locked out of my own power. From the glow, it was at full strength. Hazel shone all over with unnatural light, but she hadn’t claimed the book. She was in a drugged sleep, unable to fight.

  The half-faeries dragged Morgan towards the doors, and I ran forwards. A current of air hit me in the face, knocking me flat on my back. As I surged to my feet, a monstrous dog appeared at my side, its clawed foot slamming into my chest. Ow.

  The hellhound’s foot pinned me down, cutting off my breath.

  “Don’t struggle,” murmured the ghost. “I wonder how I’ll kill you. When your brother takes the book and becomes Gatekeeper, taking your life will no longer have adverse side effects. Of course, when he dies, the killers will take the curse onto themselves, but that won’t be our problem.”