The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy

by Emma L. Adams

  “Maybe I didn’t tell you two for a reason?”

  Morgan lowered the notebook. “Holy shit. You mean to tell me the Sidhe can die now? Actually die?”

  “No, I didn’t mean to tell you. You weren’t supposed to read that. Give it here.”

  I made a wild lunge for the desk. My legs were half asleep from sitting on the floor all night so I fell into Morgan and knocked him off balance. He grabbed Hazel’s arm to steady himself, and we all fell into a heap.

  River walked in, eyebrows raised, holding several bags.

  “Hey, River,” said Morgan. “Want to join the group hug? Ow, Hazel, you trod on my face.”

  I disentangled my legs from the others and climbed upright. “Morgan, give me that.”

  “Nope.” He held the notebook triumphantly in the air. “I know the Sidhe can die now.”

  “So does half the Court,” I said. “It’s not news. If you go around shouting it, they’ll kill you.”

  “They don’t scare me anymore.” He grinned. “They can die. You know how many thousand years those fuckers have held their immortality over the rest of us?”

  “Yes, I do, and that’s why you can’t tell them,” I said. “River, did those two send you running errands?”

  “I volunteered,” he said. “I figured one of us should check on the village and make sure none of those ghosts came back.”

  “And you brought us food.” Morgan grabbed the bag from River and emptied it onto the desk. It contained several sandwich packets and drinks from the only café in the village. River glided to the desk chair before anyone else claimed it and swivelled around, tossing me a sandwich. Despite the speed, I actually caught it.

  “Anything but Everett’s baking is good with me,” said Hazel, perching on the edge of the desk.

  I unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite of tuna mayonnaise. “Thanks, River. What were you three doing while I was in here yesterday, anyway?”

  “Plotting a way back to the Court,” Morgan said, sitting down on the bean bag next to me. “They didn’t like my idea to cross over in spirit form and haunt them.”

  I decided not to mention I could probably do exactly that. “Nope. Not gonna work.”

  “You never said if you’d reached any new conclusions from all that studying,” Hazel said.

  “Except the Sidhe can die now,” Morgan added, taking a swig of coke from the bottle.

  “All of us knew that except you,” Hazel said.

  Morgan scowled. “You’re joking.”

  “I did find out some things.” I put down my half-eaten sandwich. “Not nice ones.”

  “Go on,” said Morgan. The others watched me as well. “You have that slightly manic look.”

  “Invocations. Gods. The Ancients.” I held up Grandma’s journal. “The Ancients. She kept writing that word. The faeries’ gods. Anyone know about them?”

  “The Sidhe?” said Hazel, around a bite of sandwich. “The ones old enough to remember. Nobody in this realm would know, I wouldn’t think.”

  “According to this, the Grey Vale used to be the gods’ own realm,” I said. “Until the Sidhe kicked them out, and ripped a piece of their own realm away to do it. That’s the Vale.”

  Hazel and River both looked stunned. Morgan shook his head. “So what? They’re devious monsters, we know that. It’s no surprise that they killed their gods, considering all they want is to be worshipped on a pedestal.”

  “It gets worse,” I said. “The Vale—it’s created as a place with no magic.”

  “And?” said Morgan.

  “No magic,” I said. “Doesn’t that imply the gods had magic, just like the Sidhe do?”

  “Not necessarily,” Hazel said. “I mean, sure, let’s go with it. They’re still dead. Long gone. It’s another strike against the Sidhe, but I really don’t see what difference it makes to us.”

  “Their magic still exists in some form.” I held up the talisman, and the glowing symbol on the cover.

  Morgan dropped the coke bottle on the floor, where it rolled under the desk. “Are you saying one of them is in the book?”

  “No.” I put the talisman back in my pocket. “But their magic is. Think about it. It’s clearly not faerie magic, but it’s way beyond necromancy too. Maybe the gods had their own type of magic. I think someone might have bound part of this god’s magic to the book the way the Sidhe bind their own magic to talismans. Ivy’s talisman is the same. It’s not man-made at all, but it’s not a Sidhe creation either.”

  River continued to stare at me. “The gods’ magic… it’s possible, but I’ve never heard of such a thing in the faerie realm. Summer and Winter magic are all there is. Life and death. They balance each other. A force beyond death… no wonder this talisman wasn’t intended for use in Faerie.”

  “Whether it’s true or not, we still need to get back into the Court and root out their traitor,” Hazel said. “And I have a way in.”

  “How?” I asked. “Holly’s gate?”

  She shook her head. “Walking into Winter without magic… it’s a bad idea. But I know the wild fae near Foxwood, and there are rumours about shortcuts into the borderlands. That would take us directly to the Court.”

  “The borderlands are easily as dangerous as the Winter Court,” River said. “They’re lawless at best and deadly at worst.”

  “Not if you know where you’re going,” Hazel said confidently. “I know this way in, and it leads straight to Summer.”

  I picked up what was left of my sandwich and took a bite, though my appetite was gone. There was no safe route back into Faerie without risking our necks, and selfish though it may be, I couldn’t get Ivy’s talisman out of my head. Going to Edinburgh would bring us allies. But I wouldn’t kill the others’ hopes of rescuing Mum, however much I suspected that our chances of finding her were low.

  “If you know the wild fae, then we’ll follow your lead,” River said. But he it was plain he thought there was a catch. So did I. I’d never been invited to go along with her and Mum to negotiate with the wild faeries, those who lived apart from the Courts, but there was usually a good reason they’d chosen to leave.

  Half an hour later, we left the house, armed and ready for any kind of trouble. I checked the spirit realm before leaving, but nothing stirred. Let’s hope it stays that way.

  Hazel led us down the hill in the opposite direction to the village, past fields of heather. Snow coated the distant mountaintops, while a harsh breeze reminded me of the oncoming winter. We veered off the path after several minutes, and Hazel stopped walking beside a rabbit hole.

  A man appeared from nowhere. Morgan and I both jumped violently. The man was red-skinned and bearded, peering at us with curious eyes. “If it isn’t the Gatekeeper’s daughter.”

  “Hey,” Hazel said. “We seek passage into the borderlands of the Summer Court.”

  The man gave a low chuckle. “You truly want to enter the borderlands? You’ll never walk out alive.”

  “We seek passage,” Hazel repeated. “What payment will you accept?”

  I gave her a warning look—making a deal with any faerie wasn’t wise, but on the other hand, Mum had trained her for this.

  “Bring me four buttons after your return,” said the man.

  “Okay…” She glanced at us, her expression bewildered. “Thanks.”

  He grinned and raised a hand. There was a flash of light, and the hillside vanished.

  Tangled forest extended in every direction, larger and more extensive than I’d ever seen. I couldn’t even see the sky.

  “That was it?” Hazel said. “I thought he was going to ask me to answer an impossible riddle. The first one did.”

  “Who was he?” asked Morgan.

  “Little Person,” Hazel said. “They live between realms, or so Mum says. Harmless, but they usually ask for more than that.”

  “What’s the catch?” whispered Morgan. “Everything here wants to kill us?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Hazel
muttered. “This place is divided into territories, some from each Court, and I don’t know the boundaries by heart. But if we keep walking this way, we’ll reach the main path to the Summer Court.”

  River looked up at the canopy blocking out the sunlight. “The catch is that he brought us to Lady Hornbeam’s territory.”

  “It was hers or someone else’s, and they’re all equally bad, to be honest,” Hazel said. “This is the closest to the Court.”

  River swore under his breath. “Be on your guard.”

  The borderlands stood in total contrast to the open fields and bright sunshine of the main Summer Court. Here, while it was warmer than back home, a canopy of branches blocked out most sunlight, casting everything in eerie shadows. Tangled undergrowth marked out paths winding through the trees. No signposts or landmarks, and while Summer’s magic remained in the air, it wasn’t as overt here.

  It was impossible to watch every tree and shadow at once. I kept thinking I saw people in the branches, hidden from sight. Every rustle and whisper set my teeth on edge. Walking softly and quietly over a bed of branches and brambles was a tall order, too, especially with four of us. River walked quietly and lithely, using his magic to clear particularly tangled bits of undergrowth out of our way, but Morgan kept tripping over tree roots and I wasn’t exactly a master of stealth either. Even Hazel nearly face-planted into a pond before Morgan caught her at the last moment. We saw no signs of life around, so I damn near screamed when a faerie warrior appeared soundlessly on the path in front of us. I stopped dead, my heart sinking. He’d moved without so much as stirring the branches, like a ghost.

  The man wasn’t Sidhe. Half-blood, judging by the fact that I could look directly at him without my brain seizing up. He was dressed in dark-coloured armoured clothes with a crossbow strapped to his back, and had shoulder-length dark hair and a faint scar on his right cheekbone, the one flaw to his eerily pretty appearance.

  “Humans,” he said, his voice lightly melodic. “Do you know what Lady Hornbeam does to human trespassers?”

  “Shows us nice hospitality?” said Morgan.

  The half-Sidhe took one step towards us. Pretty faerie appearance aside, there was something starkly inhuman in the way he moved, and the harsh expression on his face told me that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot all of us down with that crossbow of his.

  “If I were someone else, you’d be dead, mortals,” he said. “However, one of you carries an object of power. I’m curious about it.”

  He can sense the book? No—he’d seen it. His gaze roamed over us, as though he could see all our secrets.

  “That would be mine,” River said, taking a step towards him and holding his blade to the light. “It’s claimed.”

  “Naturally,” said the half-Sidhe. “May I see?”

  River spun the blade in his hands so it came to a resting position pointing right at the half-Sidhe’s throat. “I’m in the employ of the Summer Court, acting as bodyguard to the Summer Gatekeeper through the borderland territories. You can tell Lady Hornbeam that we have permission to be here.”

  “Including the humans?” Incredulity momentarily crossed his expression, and he didn’t seem particularly fazed by the blade inches from his neck. “If you lie, mortal, your lives will be forfeit.”

  “Mortal?” said River, raising an eyebrow. “You’re as mortal as I am, thief.”

  He let the blade pass within a centimetre of the half-Sidhe’s throat before pulling it back, green magic shimmering to the hilt. His eyes glowed with it. But the stranger didn’t even flinch, as though having deadly blades pointed at him was a daily occurrence.

  “How did you guess I was a thief?” said the stranger.

  “I’m a bodyguard. It’s my job to make accurate assessments of potential adversaries. Why are you so interested in my talisman? It’s not an unusual sight, even in the hands of one of us.”

  A bitter smile twisted the stranger’s lips. “I’m a thief. It’s my job to steal anything valuable that passes through her territory, and if any… livestock wanders off, it’s my duty to return it to her.”

  “What is it with you people thinking we’re sheep?” Morgan snarled, stepping up to him. “We’re not livestock, you stuck-up piece of shit. We’re people.”

  “All right, that’s enough,” Hazel said. “We’re in a hurry. Morgan, get back here. Princeling, go back to your palace and leave us in peace.”

  “Princeling?” said the faerie, scowling. “You have no respect.”

  “Neither have you,” Hazel said. “I’m Summer Gatekeeper, and for your information, we’re on our way to prevent an attack on your Court. So if you’d kindly step aside—unless you’d like to help us?”

  “My duty is to my family first, mortal,” said the thief. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure. If I see you again, I’ll be forced to report you to Lady Hornbeam. I rather think she’ll be less welcoming than I’ve been.”

  There was a flicker of movement, and he was gone, like he’d evaporated into thin air.

  “Wow,” said Hazel. “They do things differently out here in the borderlands.”

  “What was all that about claimed talismans?” I asked.

  “If it wasn’t claimed by me,” River said, “he’d have stolen it. Probably without any of us noticing.”

  “Does anyone else think we just dodged a bullet?” said Morgan.

  “Or an iron arrow,” said River. “He was carrying iron. I sensed it.”

  “They use iron on other faeries out here?” I shuddered. “Okay, that’s enough borderland territory for me. Let’s move.”

  Our narrow escape set my nerves on edge, and I walked quicker, thinking of sunny glades and gardens. I’d never expected I’d ever think of Summer magic in a positive light, but I sighed in relief at the sight of blessed sunlight ahead. We reached a clearer path winding into the trees. I glimpsed a meadow at one end, and from the opposite direction, a cool breeze blew.

  “Summer,” said Hazel, directing her steps towards the meadow. “Crossover territory. This is where the council goes in and out of this realm… it’s usually harder to avoid attention here, but that hardly matters.”

  “Here we go.” I spotted two Sidhe on horseback.

  One was the female messenger Sidhe who’d spoken to us before, and her expression was pure murder.

  12

  I went completely still as the two Sidhe spotted us.

  “Guilty conscience, mortal?” said Lady Aiten, softly. Her hair spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall, while her eyes were startlingly bright. Her magic whispered over my head, promising thorny pain and sharp vengeance.

  “What’s going on?” asked Hazel and I more or less at the same time.

  “Someone in the Court has died.” Magic hummed in her voice with another promise of pain.

  Holy crap. “Who died?” I asked. Please not the Erlking. Or the person who sent Mum into the Vale, for that matter.

  “Nobody you know,” said Lady Aiten.

  “What are you doing here, mortals?” said the second Sidhe—Lord Raivan. “You would do well to stay away from the Court, considering what happened at Lord Niall’s revel.”

  “There’s a traitor in the Court,” I said. “We’re here to warn you. One of your own is working with outcasts.”

  “They stole our gate,” Hazel added. “The Summer Gatekeeper’s magic has been compromised. Someone in Faerie stole it. Maybe the same person who committed murder.”

  Lord Raivan’s eyes narrowed. “And what is your own alibi, exactly?”

  “Our family is locked into a permanent contract to obey this Court,” said Hazel. “All of us. If we murdered anyone, it’d rebound horribly.”

  “Not him.” He cast a sharp look at River, whose body stiffened, his hand dropping to his blade.

  “He’s been with us the whole time,” I snapped. “Ask… damn, who was that thief in the borderlands? He can probably confirm which way we came in. We literally just got here.”

&nb
sp; “And I am in a contract of my own,” River said smoothly. “I’m here to aid the Gatekeeper, and it’s my belief that there is a threat to this Court within the Grey Vale.”

  “Don’t think I haven’t heard your stories, mortal,” said Lord Raivan. “You and Ivy Lane both, spreading rumours of the Vale.”

  “Ivy was here?” I said in disbelief. “Recently? If she confirmed his story, it must be true. She’s been there. So has River.”

  “And if you’re not careful, you’ll be joining the outcasts yourselves,” growled Lord Raivan, directing his horse to approach us.

  I refused to give ground. “Lord Raivan, I know why this is happening. I request an audience with the Erlking, or whoever is responsible for locking my family into this contract.”

  “This realm is not your own, mortal,” he said softly. “You’re not even Gatekeeper.”

  “Really? I had no idea.”

  I saw Hazel wince, and felt bad. But not bad enough to stop. The Sidhe deserved a reckoning, and I’d rather the Gatekeepers were the ones to give it to them than the Vale outcasts.

  “Whatever special treatment you think you deserve, mortal, you’re not one of us,” said Lady Aiten.

  “It’s not special treatment to show basic respect to someone giving you a warning. If you don’t listen, you’ll only lose more of your own people. Permanently.”

  The grass stirred as magic crept beneath my feet. Every instinct told me to get the hell out, but despite the Sidhe’s loathing of mortals, there wasn’t actually a rule denying our right to be here, even to ask to speak to the Erlking. The Sidhe just weren’t obligated to treat us like people. It was entirely possible the Erlking himself would be the same, but I couldn’t resist. I doubted anyone had ever asked the question before.

  Lord Raivan actually looked surprised, beneath all the magic, his faerie-bright eyes widening a fraction. “You should know that even most of the Sidhe haven’t set eyes on our king for many years. He takes no visitors.”

  “Look,” I said, throwing caution to the winds. “My magic… it’s to do with life and death. He has a life-threatening illness, doesn’t he? Maybe I can help. And our family made a treaty with the Erlking himself.”