The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  10

  “Speak of the devil.”

  Ivy Lane herself floated above the line, with the same confidence as she had when she’d walked through our living room wall.

  Ivy paused before me, looking me up and down. “Believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve been called that. I know you.”

  “Ilsa Lynn,” I said. “Gatekeeper.” There was no hiding what I was here in Death.

  Her gaze went to my forehead, and her eyes widened. “No kidding. I guess it’s my turn to ask how you got here.”

  “Let’s just say there have been changes since we last saw one another,” I said. “Turns out my family have necromancy in the bloodline, too.”

  “Well, that explains some things,” Ivy said. “I was actually on my way to speak to your sister. Or your mother.”

  “She’s not around.” I weighed the odds, then came out with it. “Actually, she’s in the Grey Vale, on the orders of the Sidhe.”

  Ivy’s brows shot up again. “I should have asked more questions when we spoke before.”

  “Most of this is recent. This is the first time I’ve been here, for a start. How are you doing it?” Her body was outlined in blue light that hadn’t been obvious when I’d seen her as a ghost before. My gaze snapped right to the source—the sword at her waist, glowing so brightly it looked almost solid.

  Her eyes followed the direction of my gaze. “My magic is… different. You?”

  “Same here.”

  The hint of a smile came to her lips. “I guess it’s fitting that I ended up speaking to you and not your sister.”

  “Who sent you? I never had chance to ask.”

  “Nobody did. I came of my own volition.” Her fingers traced the hilt of her blade. “A year ago, things went… wrong, in Faerie. Around the same time, I found out I had family. But I didn’t know where you were, or who you were. The communication lines with Faerie were kinda screwed up for a bit. We’re still rebuilding them. I had no idea there was anyone with such a close link to the Courts in this realm.”

  “Most of our business is in Faerie, not here,” I said. “Mum’s is, anyway. But things are screwed up now, too. That’s why I’m floating around here looking for answers. Can I get into the Vale through here?” I indicated the pale silvery line beneath our feet.

  Ivy gave me an appraising look. “Yeah, you can. You might not be able to get out. Necromancers who know Death really well can… Frank the necromancer did, but he’s already dead.”

  “Who’s Frank the necromancer?”

  “A necromancer Guardian, and one of the Council of Twelve.”

  That rang a bell. “My mum knows the council. My sister doesn’t, but she was due to meet them…”

  “They’re gathering in Edinburgh right now, actually. That’s where my body is.”

  “Seriously? You’re that close?” I stared at her. “Wait, is the necromancer guild meeting with them as well?”

  Her expression twisted with incredulity. “Don’t tell me you’re involved with them, too.”

  “Yeah. If anyone’s mentioned a raving mad ghost sending a supernatural fae monster to attack psychics, my siblings and I are the ones who stopped it.”

  Ivy shook her head. “I should have come looking for you sooner. When they called the meeting here, I came all the way from the Midlands with a group of mages, not to mention half a witch coven and a bunch of shifters and necromancers. You shook up the Ley Line all through England.”

  “The ghost did, technically,” I said. “But she was working with half-faerie ghosts from the Vale, and some of them are still out there. They’re plotting against both this realm and the Courts.”

  They’d also blamed Ivy for their predicament. But even here on the spirit line, with both of us transparent and floating insubstantially between worlds, she wasn’t someone I wanted to cross. That blade of hers glowed brighter than the silver light. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The book stirred in my hand where I held it at my side, like the blade called to it, too. A silver glow spread up my arm.

  Ivy’s gaze went to the book. “So that’s how you got here. I’ve never seen a talisman in that form before.”

  “You’ve seen others?” My voice rose in surprise.

  She tapped her blade’s hilt. “Aside from Helena? No.”

  I blinked. “You… named your sword? Or is it an official title? Mine doesn’t have one.”

  The book stirred in my hand again. Ivy looked at it, frowning. “No, it’s just a nickname. Do you have faerie magic?”

  “No, but my sister does. We’re both fully human, but only one person gets the Summer Gatekeeper’s magic. Are you human?”

  “I am,” she confirmed. “But that book… how’d you get it?”

  “Inherited it,” I said. Something told me I could trust her, but part of me remained wary. “It woke up when our family was attacked by the dead.”

  I summarised what the Winter Gatekeeper had done. Ivy looked aghast. “Damn. I wouldn’t have expected it of a human.”

  “The half-faeries who attacked us mentioned your name. They said you got them trapped in the Vale.”

  “Shit,” said Ivy. “I should have known some of them escaped. There was a war… some half-faeries chose the losing side, because the enemy promised they’d get to be immortal. I guess this new enemy is probably doing the same. They don’t take much convincing.”

  Well, damn. “Even though the Sidhe aren’t immortal? It’s true?”

  “They aren’t,” Ivy said. “Yeah. Can’t say I know how that Winter Gatekeeper found out, but given how the Sidhe are prone to murdering one another, I doubt it took long for word to spread throughout Winter.”

  “You… you saw how it happened?” A suspicion seized me. “You caused it.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” said Ivy. “Someone tried to hijack the immortality source to create an army of immortal soldiers, so I had to destroy it. I’m trusting you not to share that with them, by the way. They think the villain did it. It’s easier to have them believe one of their own was the cause. And it kind of was, because he pushed me into a corner.”

  “I… don’t want to think of what they might do to you for that.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about.” She ran a hand over her blade’s hilt again. “I’ve had to put down a half-dozen schemes since, but this is the first I’ve encountered where they’re using human necromancy. There’s no way to permanently bring someone back from death… not in the sense that their body is already dead, anyway. You can reattach a spirit if the body is alive. You can heal a body from the brink of death or stave it off with certain types of magic. But unless the Sidhe had a backup plan, there is no way for immortality to return in the normal sense.”

  “Backup plan?” I said. “What was the first plan?”

  “A cauldron of blood with the ability to create new bodies from scratch.” She grimaced. “Turns out it doesn’t hold up well to an Invocation.”

  “Is there any type of faerie magic you can’t use?” I asked her.

  She gave a wry smile. “I’m not supposed to have stayed here this long… if you’re able to come and speak to the council in Edinburgh, I’ll be there a while. I can tell you more in person.”

  “That’s on the plan,” I said. “Once we’ve figured out who sent Mum into the Vale.”

  “I wish I could help you,” Ivy said. “There’s no guarantee of being able to find a specific person in the Vale. And it sounds like the vow she’s under might not allow her to return with you.”

  “I was afraid of that,” I said.

  Ivy’s body had turned even more transparent, while her blade wasn’t glowing as brightly as before.

  “I’m fading,” she said. “You’re not, but… if this is your first time here, I wouldn’t stay too long. My fiancé is pretty insistent about watching me. I take it you have someone watching over you too?”

  I nodded. “I do. I’ll come and find you later.”

  Ivy shimmere
d all over with blue light, then disappeared.

  I turned around. I couldn’t tell which way I’d come along the path. That… might be an issue. The world beneath was leached of colour, rolling hills and fields and mountains seen through a filter. Grey fuzziness outlined everything. The only solid thing was the book, faintly pulsing with white light. I flipped it open, then focused hard. The shape of a grey path began to appear. A thrill sang through me. The Vale. Mum.

  I was on the cusp. Putting one foot over the line into the Vale wouldn’t do any harm, right? Not with the book blazing in my hands, filling me with boundless power.

  My foot rested on the edge of the path as though my thoughts had brought it closer. Mum’s here. I know she is. But something held me back. Finding Mum wouldn’t lead us to the enemy. The traitors, the Vale outcasts, were inside the Court itself. Not the Vale.

  River’s face appeared before my eyes. Everything went fuzzy, and the next second, I lay on the floor of the mausoleum, my body aching with cold. My limbs felt like dead weights as I tried to lift my hand to check it still worked. The candles flared brighter—he must have activated them to shock my body into waking up.

  River’s hand was so warm, I yelped when he grabbed me. “Ilsa. God, you’re freezing cold.”

  He pulled me upright, knocking candles aside. I wrapped my arms around him, craving his warmth. “Why’d you do that?” I said through chattering teeth.

  “Because your heartbeat slowed to a crawl and scared the shit out of me.” He removed his coat and wrapped it around me. “Walk,” he said. “It’ll help.” He was shaking, maybe with fear or anger, maybe because as a Summer faerie, being hugged by an ice block probably wasn’t pleasant.

  By the time we came within sight of the garden, the sensation had somewhat come back to my limbs. River, however, looked as though he was about to pass out at what I’d told him.

  “The Sidhe can die?” he said. “I didn’t hear what the Winter Gatekeeper said… but it explains how she hoped to dominate them. Any of the Sidhe might be desperate enough to work with humans if it means getting their immortality back.”

  “Did you hear anything about it in Faerie?”

  “Certainly not,” he said. “If the Courts spoke of it, then they must have done so behind closed doors. It’s not the sort of information they’d want to be spread widely… nor amongst humans.”

  I drew River’s coat tightly around myself, my numb feet skidding in the mud. “Yeah, we’re sworn to secrecy. So what are the Sidhe playing at? They must know that human necromancy is even less reliable than this immortality source of theirs. Also, Winter magic can involve raising the dead. Surely that’s more logical.”

  “Not permanently,” River murmured. “This… this has the potential to affect the Courts to such a degree, it might even be someone in a position of power behind this. The Erlking is dying.”

  “Yeah, hence the quest for the missing heir.”

  He turned on me. “You’ve known for a while.”

  “I didn’t believe Ivy at first,” I said. “Would you? The heir thing turned out to be nonsense, so I hoped this was too. I think the Sidhe could do well to learn some humility, but they’re not the type to accept their inevitable fate without trying to drag everyone else down with them.”

  “Not every Sidhe would want to do that.”

  “One would be enough to destroy this realm,” I said heatedly. “Sorry. I’m not blaming you… I know everyone worships the Sidhe, and heaven knows they might even be justified in being a little pissed off, considering how many thousand years they’ve been immortal. I just wish they’d consider that they’re not the centre of the universe.”

  “I think you’re asking for the impossible,” River said, but his expression remained dark and grim. “Perhaps… perhaps your mother knew as well.”

  I stopped walking. “Crap. Maybe the Sidhe sent her to find a solution. The Erlking’s dying, the Sidhe are desperate, and…” And answers might lie in the Vale? I almost wished I’d gone there after all, but I wouldn’t have been able to bring Mum back with me as a ghost. I shook my head, frustration burning below my skin despite the lingering chill, and resumed walking again. “We need more information… but it’s a start. I can look around next time I’m on the spirit paths.”

  “You almost froze to death, Ilsa,” River said.

  “Then next time wrap me in your coat.” It smelled pleasantly of his earthy magic. “This is what I’m supposed to do.”

  “According to whom?” he enquired. “Not the Sidhe. You don’t have to answer to anyone but yourself.”

  “I can’t keep this power and not use it to save Mum,” I said. “And stop those outcasts. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let them win.”

  I might crave the book’s power, but I wouldn’t be controlled by it. Magic was untameable by nature, but if Ivy could traverse Death, so could I.

  “I don’t think Morgan can do the same, so don’t tell him,” I said. “He actually would risk his life hopping up and down the Ley Line. But we need to see Ivy in the flesh for sure. She knows about talismans like mine.”

  “Does she know who might be behind this scheme?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. But it sounds like she brought half the council with her. At this point I’d trust their word more than the Sidhe’s.”

  “The enemy is inside the Summer Court itself.” His hands clenched at his sides. “Even if we caught them, I doubt the Sidhe would believe one of their own might be a traitor. But I can’t think of any other way the enemy might have reached the Court. Nobody is allowed in who isn’t spoken for, and only those with Sidhe magic can cross over at all.”

  “Then the traitor is Sidhe. It’s the only explanation.” But who? I hadn’t met enough of the Sidhe to form an opinion, and surely if any of them wanted the book, they’d have tried to take it from me there and then. But they of all people knew the consequences of claiming a talisman. Maybe they just… didn’t want to be anywhere near Death at all. It wouldn’t surprise me.

  But what did that make Ivy’s talisman? Was mine truly that unique? It was reassuring to meet another human neck-deep in this who wasn’t a Lynn. Though technically she might be, distantly. The curse hadn’t affected her. But maybe we had more in common than shared blood. The way my talisman had tried to reach hers… as though it knew her. I’d learnt so much, yet only had more questions.

  The book and the blade. Power beyond necromancy, beyond anything I ever knew. Raw, terrifying power, bound into the fabric of the death realm itself.

  Like… a goddess of death.

  11

  I woke up with my chin resting on my knees, dawn light spilling through the window onto the bookshelves of the library and the bean bag where I’d fallen asleep. I’d sat here for hours at a time as a teenager while Hazel and Mum did their top-secret Gatekeeper training. The textbook fell out of my lap as I stretched, my back aching in protest at the weird position I’d fallen asleep in. I picked it up again, yawning. I’d stayed up until the early hours reading through the book and Great-Aunt Enid’s notes, and by now, I knew what magic was in my talisman.

  I also knew beyond all shadow of a doubt that I could never allow the enemy to get hold of it.

  Hazel knocked on the door, nudging it open. “Have you been in here all night?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” I yawned again. “We’re not out of coffee, are we?”

  “Not yet,” Hazel said. “That must have been some marathon studying session.”

  “That’s one way of putting it.” I blinked repeatedly to clear the haze from my eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “You’ve been acting… off. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. I’ve felt out of it since my magic got shut down, to be honest.” She gave a slight laugh. “Gotta love feeling powerless at the worst possible moment.”

  “Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “What time is it?”

  “Ten in the morning. I sent River off to buy groce
ries because he’s the only one of us with cash.”

  “I have cash.”

  “You were dead to the world,” Morgan said from behind her. “I had to put my hand in a jar of iron to keep your weird dreams out of my head.”

  “I don’t remember any.” Now I remembered why pulling all-nighters was usually a bad idea. I needed at least nine hours’ sleep to function, and it probably didn’t help that I hadn’t eaten a proper meal in what felt like days.

  “Probably that weirdness you’re reading,” Morgan said, scooping up the textbook and Great-Aunt Enid’s journal. “Must be a good read if you stayed away from River all night.”

  I stifled another yawn behind my hand. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

  “He’s not my type, but he’s decent enough for a faerie.”

  “Thanks for giving your approval.” I rolled my eyes at him.

  “He hasn’t given her faerie pox yet, so he’s one step up from the last guy,” Hazel put in.

  Why did she have to go there? “Give it a rest,” I told her.

  “Faerie pox?” said Morgan, tossing the books onto the floor again.

  “You missed the epic showdown.” Hazel ducked as I threw Great-Aunt Enid’s diary at her. “Chill, Ilsa. It was a few months after you left… what was his name, Ernest?”

  “No!” I groaned. “If either of you tell Mum or River, I’ll kill you.”

  “I’m not a sneak,” said Hazel. “You need to get that tension out of your system. Seriously.”

  “If you didn’t already in the forest,” said Morgan, walking over to the desk where I’d scattered all my notes.

  “You can’t bring up the forest without admitting you both got ensnared by the Sidhe, too,” I said. “Did they know they were making out with humans?”

  “Probably not,” she said. “The magic there sent everyone crazy.”

  “There you have it,” I said. “None of us was in our right mind.”

  “Keep telling yourself that,” said Morgan, picking up the spiral-bound notebook I’d been taking notes in. “Come on, I never got to tease you about this stuff before I left. You didn’t crush on a different boy every week like Hazel did.”