The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “Orchard?” whispered Hazel. “This place is fancy. Is this where you live when you’re here, River?”

  “Yes. Half-bloods aren’t permitted to own land or property in Faerie, so only those of us with family willing to accommodate us are in service to the Court. Several of my half-siblings sometimes live here, too.”

  I’d forgotten he’d once implied he had siblings, because his father was probably hundreds of years old and had doubtlessly been with more than one mortal. As generous as his offer sounded, I couldn’t forget that the Sidhe had intentionally put their half-blood children into a position of inferiority and dependence on their generosity. And mercy. River must have thought working for the Summer Court was worth the indignity. Then again, he had got a free talisman out of it, which were usually off-limits to non-Sidhe.

  We walked through a bright conservatory into the garden, where River led the way to a wooden gate. Beyond, a number of trees bearing fruit that shone in bright shades crowded us. Their strong aroma urged me to pick the fruit and bite into it. I could drown in the smell, which probably meant it’d turn me into a deer. I bit the inside of my cheek, my nails digging into my palms. The smell of apples brought back memories of the half-Sidhe I’d dated as a teenager, who’d seduced me in a grove of his own creation. The memory did a pretty good job of neutralising the effects of the spell, because now I wanted to throw up instead.

  “Don’t touch the fruit,” River said in a low voice. “It tends to have unpredictable effects on mortals.”

  Morgan replaced the apple he’d picked up, then jumped when a tall Sidhe male with River’s pointed ears and fair curly hair appeared. He wore a finely made shirt and trousers, which I supposed was the Sidhe’s idea of casual clothing. Like River, he carried a sword strapped to his side. The weirdest part was that underneath the glowing effects of faerie magic, he barely looked older than River did. Yet he’d likely lived for centuries.

  “Son,” he said to River. “I wasn’t expecting you to return so soon.”

  Ah. Faerie time travel. It’d been weeks since River’s return, but time passed differently here, with mortal years going by in the blink of an eye to the Sidhe.

  “There have been developments in the mortal realm,” he said. “I have brought the Gatekeeper’s children with me, as they have questions they need to ask a trustworthy Sidhe.”

  “Apparently they haven’t heard the stories,” said the Sidhe. “Not a one of us is trustworthy to mortals, and they should do well to remember it.”

  “Didn’t you knock one of them up?” said Morgan. “Or several?”

  “Ignore him,” Hazel said quickly. “I’m Hazel Lynn, the heir to the Summer Gatekeeper’s title. I’m told that you might know where our mother currently is, and who sent her there.”

  “If you came here, my son likely told you her whereabouts himself. The Vale is not a safe place for you mortals, even less than here.”

  “No shit,” Morgan said. “Let’s assume we know the Vale is dangerous and we’re gonna rescue her anyway.”

  The Sidhe turned to him. “Rescue? My son tells me the Summer Gatekeeper seems to be coping admirably in hostile territory.”

  “But our magic is fading,” Hazel said. “We need to find her. It’d help if we at least knew who sent her there. River said she’s visited your house.”

  “Yes, some time ago,” said Lord Torin. “As for the Court’s magic, I heard rumours of a drought, but I can’t say it has reached me here.”

  “So if you’re okay, everyone else must be, too?” said Morgan. I half wished he’d shoved the apple into his mouth after all.

  The Sidhe cocked an eyebrow. “Who exactly are you, mortal?”

  “Morgan Lynn. Necromancer. Means I deal with dead people.”

  I quickly stepped in. “Who might have sent our mother into the Vale?”

  “If you follow her, you’ll likely lose your lives,” said Lord Torin. “But the last person known to have spoken to the Gatekeeper was Lady Aiten.”

  Hazel took a step backwards. “We saw her. Recently. She answered my last request for help from the Court. You mean to say she knew all along? She didn’t even try to answer my questions.”

  She must mean the Sidhe who’d questioned me after the Winter Gatekeeper’s death, one of the three who’d come into the mortal realm.

  “You’re not likely to get answers from any Sidhe by showing up on their doorsteps,” said Lord Torin. “An early death, perhaps.”

  “This concerns peace within the Courts and outside them,” Hazel said. “If the Summer Gatekeeper goes missing, what happens if outsiders attack? The former Winter Gatekeeper attempted a coup once already and nearly destroyed the Courts in the process. You must have heard about it.”

  “Nothing can destroy the Courts,” said the Sidhe calmly. “Do not think I am unaware of your family’s role as peacekeepers. Lady Aiten will be attending an event later today, at the house of Lord Niall. That’s the only time she might agree to speak with you. But I don’t need to warn you of the dangers such events pose for mortals.” He gave Morgan and me a disparaging look.

  Morgan bristled, but Hazel stepped in. “Thank you,” she said. “Any clues about a way to contact our mother would be greatly appreciated.”

  He gave a brief nod of acknowledgement and turned to River. “I warned you not to ask for my assistance in helping humans again.”

  River looked at his father defiantly. “I kept my word. They asked for assistance of their own free will. I assumed the Summer Gatekeeper was welcome on the territory closest to the council on Earth.”

  “The Summer Gatekeeper is, of course,” he said. “Humans, however, are nothing but trouble. Lord Daival is still dealing with the fallout from his… livestock escaping.”

  River’s body stiffened, his hands clenching at his sides. Coldness spread through me despite the heat. Livestock? He was talking about humans. And River looked like he wished he’d decapitated the Sidhe he’d stolen the humans from. I didn’t blame him.

  “You people really do have no souls,” said Morgan.

  Lord Torin turned on him. Magic flashed, and Morgan yelped, jumping backwards as thorns sprouted from his hands.

  “Enough!” River said sharply.

  The thorns vanished, but the Sidhe’s expression remained furious. “Son, you have an open invitation here. So does the Gatekeeper. Not these… others.” His gaze skimmed our group, lingering on me this time. My throat went dry.

  “Sorry!” Hazel said. “We’ve had a seriously rough week, and our mother might be dying. He’s never been around Sidhe—you know what, we’ll go over here.”

  Hazel all but hauled Morgan away, and I made to follow—but a thorny plant blocked my way. I took in a breath. Showing weakness might get me killed, and the Sidhe had apparently picked me out as a target. Lord Torin hadn’t moved, but his magic flowed through every plant in this garden. Sharp thorns gleamed, and fruits dripped deadly juice onto the grass.

  I met his stare, aware that he’d be able to see the mark on my forehead, and would draw his own conclusions about what it meant. It wasn’t like being looked at by River, though they both had the same intensity to their green-eyed stare. Like they were paying attention to nothing else. With the Sidhe, it was outright terrifying.

  “Yes?” I said, relieved my voice sounded steady.

  “You’re not as loud as your fellow humans,” he observed.

  Yeah, that’s because this is awkward as hell. I was kind of dating your son, for a while. Also, I can’t stop picturing you with Lady Montgomery and it’s seriously weirding me out.

  Aloud, I said, “I have nothing to add. We need to find who sent Mum into the Vale. If she’s tethered to them by a vow, they can invoke the same vow to bring her out of the Vale, right?”

  “Did my son tell you that?”

  “I worked it out.” From something River had said, but he didn’t need to know.

  “You’re a perceptive mortal.”

  “I’m choosi
ng to take that as a compliment.” Go on. Mention the mark. You want to. There was no other reason for him to stare at me that intently. I was an unknown element. A curiosity. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to join my siblings and make a plan. Will the person who cast the vow likely be present at this event today?”

  “Many Sidhe will.” He tilted his head. “My son mentioned you.”

  Ah. Crap. I hadn’t thought Lord Torin even knew my name, as I hadn’t told him. But he must have figured it out somehow. Sidhe were way too observant.

  “Yeah, I was the unknown person the Summer Gatekeeper sent him to guard,” I said. “I’m grateful that he helped keep me alive.” What the hell, maybe I could help River regain the respect of the Sidhe… but I doubted so. The word of a human with questionable magic probably didn’t outdo the audacity of setting a bunch of mortal prisoners free.

  “Yes, that mission led him on quite the chase,” said the Sidhe. “Your magic is… interesting.”

  “How do you know? I’m not Sidhe.”

  “No, and yet… that mark. Very curious.”

  “Yeah, it is.” I kept looking into his eyes, knowing he wanted me to look away. River wouldn’t let him hurt me, but depending on anyone in this realm was a risky move. Besides, this man might be less awful than most Sidhe, but he also referred to humans as livestock, and had probably ignored River for most of his life. As for Lady Montgomery? I’d bet that even if they’d parted on friendly terms, the Sidhe didn’t get the concept of paying for child support. I never thought I’d feel bad for Lady Montgomery of all people.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ilsa Lynn,” he said. “You may join your family.”

  Why did I get the impression he’d learned more from looking at the mark on my forehead than I had from our entire conversation?

  “I take it we need to make preparations before going to this Sidhe event,” I said.

  “Naturally. Ask the brownie. I think he enjoys human company.”

  I figured that was probably an insult, but let it slide. I had to get the others alone to explain my plan—and I couldn’t help wondering if the Sidhe would be as keen to refer to us as ‘livestock’ if they realised they were basically long-lived mortals now, too.

  5

  River and I found the others inside the conservatory. I sat down beside a plant, which immediately wrapped itself around my leg. Hazel zapped it with Summer magic and it withdrew.

  “Bloody plants,” Morgan growled. “One of them tried to strangle me.”

  “Be thankful it wasn’t worse,” River said. “If you intend to insult every Sidhe present, you won’t walk out of this realm alive.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll behave,” Morgan said. “If nobody insults me. Or humans in general, come to that.”

  “Morgan,” Hazel said warningly. “If you want to get into an argument, pick literally anyone except the Sidhe. I have one shot to get information on Mum. I can’t waste it chasing you around.”

  “Nor me,” I said. “I can pretty much bet that this Sidhe event won’t be human friendly. Also, this.” I pointed at my forehead. “Your father seemed to recognise it, River.” I glanced over my shoulder, but if the Sidhe wanted to hear what we were saying, I doubted he’d bother to hide himself.

  “He likely knew it for an Invocation,” River said. “The language is intimately familiar to the Sidhe, as much as their own. Maybe you should obtain a glamour… Hazel, your magic should be stronger here. Mine is, too, but glamour isn’t my strong point.”

  “You’re saying I should put a fae disguise on those two?” said Hazel dubiously. “I can, but if any of the Sidhe so much as breathe in their direction, it’ll probably fall off.”

  “It’ll get us in,” River said. “Hazel and I have implicit invitations, but you two… it’s possible the Sidhe will make a fuss. I’ll ask my father—”

  “There’s no need,” growled a voice. The brownie had sidled into the room, unseen. “I will ask them myself. As a member of the Council of Twelve, I am allowed passage to speak with the ambassadors.”

  “Thank you, Quentin,” River said.

  Hazel stared at the brownie. “I didn’t know the council was allowed here. Does that mean they’re all in Faerie? Even the humans?”

  “No,” said the brownie. “I serve two families, one here, one in the mortal realm, and it is my duty to act on behalf of the Council of Twelve to ensure peace between our realms. Your mission’s purpose is to keep the peace, therefore, I can ask for permission.”

  He bowed and left.

  “Am I missing something?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I didn’t understand a word he just said,” Morgan said.

  “The council… the alliance between human and faerie realms,” Hazel said. “That brownie must carry messages between here and the human council in the mortal realm. So he has the clout to get us into this event. Good enough.”

  “A council of humans and Sidhe?” I asked. “Would they know where Mum is?”

  “I don’t know which Sidhe are on the council, because it’s new,” Hazel said. “It only formed in the last year. But… hmm. Might explain why Lord Raivan’s so prickly. He’s stuck dealing with humans.”

  “So the brownie can get us in,” Morgan said. “Good enough for me. Who’s holding the event?”

  “Lord Niall, of course,” said Hazel, with an eye-roll. “It’s always Lord Niall. They say he held a party all through the last war with Winter.”

  “I don’t think so,” River said. “Likely an exaggeration… but he does have a reputation. He doesn’t care much for torturing mortals, but his guests might feel differently.”

  “Then we’ll wear disguises,” said Morgan. “Can I have some shiny special effects now?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Hazel said, drumming her fingertips on her knees. “Better hope the magic in this place is enough to make up for the drought.”

  Great. So I have to dress up as one of them. For Mum’s sake, I’d dress up as a troll, but when Hazel was done with Morgan and turned to me, I dug my heels in.

  “If my glamour falls off, the mark’s the first thing they’ll see,” I said. “I need to be prepared to fight or run. No magical dresses this time.”

  “I was thinking the same,” Hazel said, to my surprise. “Okay. Let’s see what I can do.”

  To my surprise, since the Sidhe didn’t have strictly gendered clothing, nobody commented on my knee-length armoured coat and trousers like the Sidhe warriors wore. Being a glamour, the armour wasn’t as thick as it looked, but hopefully it’d deter people from taking a shot at me.

  The pointed ears were seriously weird, even though when I touched my ear, it felt normal under the illusion. And my glowing green eyes would make it even more likely people would confuse me with Hazel. All I needed was a horse and I might actually pass as a Sidhe. I’d ridden them a few times in the mortal realm but was long out of practise, and the horses the Sidhe rode definitely weren’t made of the same stuff. They moved with the same eerie grace as their faerie kin, and I frowned when I spotted several of them tethered at the front of the house with Hazel beside them.

  “We’re riding?” I asked River.

  He briefly stroked a coal-black horse’s head, and lithely sprang onto its back. “It’s quicker. It also might be more comfortable if you join me. The horses can tell you’re human.”

  “No, it’s cool.” I climbed up behind him awkwardly. How many times could we be put in compromising situations in a single day?

  “Come on,” said Hazel, who sat astride a magnificent white steed which wouldn’t have looked out of place as a Lord of the Rings extra. She wore a dress in shades of gold and lilac, her circlet gleaming with magic. Real flowers were twined in her hair, which spilled down her back in golden curls. Magic, but not an illusion like my own was. Behind her, Morgan slouched back on the horse, somewhat dampening the image. He wore his own Sidhe disguise with pointed ears and jet black hair grown out past his shoulders Sidhe-style, but he sat like a hu
man.

  “No galloping,” he said. “I’d like to get out of this with my balls in one piece, thanks.”

  “Nobody wants to know, Morgan,” Hazel said. “Let’s go.”

  The horse took off in a gliding motion that momentarily convinced my body we’d actually left the ground. I grabbed River’s coat for balance, too startled to yell. The ground slid away, the movement more like flying than riding. In the space of a few seconds, we left the garden behind, and there was nothing but trees on either side. I heard Morgan swearing loudly behind me.

  “Holy shit,” I gasped into the back of River’s coat.

  “It gets easier,” he said. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  “I’ve ridden fairground rides that were less hair-raising—” I cut off in a gasp as the horse performed another dizzying glide, this time landing in a field of flowers. Their perfumed scent only made me even more dizzy, and I was fervently glad I hadn’t eaten in hours. “Please tell me it’s almost over.”

  I felt his body vibrate with laughter beneath the death grip I had around him. A third glide brought us up to a thorny gate in front of another manor house, at which point two armoured Sidhe nodded to River and let us pass.

  “Wait, we’re in?” I shook my head. “Wow. Apparently Sidhe nearly falling off their horses is a common sight.”

  “You aren’t going to fall off,” he said. “At least, the way you’re crushing my ribs indicates that’s not the case.”

  Ah. “Sorry.” I loosened my hold, barely lingering a second to enjoy the sensation of his hard muscles beneath my hands. I carefully climbed down, after which River led the horse to the stables in the manor’s expansive grounds.

  Bright flowers that didn’t exist in the mortal realm exuded a smell that captured all my senses at once, while a thick forest surrounded the back of the manor. Long-leafed, unfamiliar plants stood on either side of the oak doors, which were wide open, inviting. Guests walked in and out, talking in the faerie tongue. I didn’t know enough of the language to eavesdrop on whatever the Sidhe found to be interesting conversation topics.