River’s sword stabbed down into the water. The hands let go of him, but his sword remained wedged in the mud.
“Well done,” Morgan said, kicking out. “Ow. Bloody monsters. What’s grabbing me?”
“Grindylows,” said Hazel. “I can’t access my magic here.”
Her hands glowed faintly green, but not enough. She’d probably burned herself out fending off those thorns. Dammit. All I had was salt and a knife, but the webbed hands latched onto my ankles and refused to let go. The other grey heads drew closer, bobbing in the water. Grey-skinned, human-sized creatures with webbed hands and feet and flat frog-like heads crawled to the surface, grabbing the nearest target—Morgan.
I threw a handful of iron filings at them. So did Morgan. The merrow let go, making furious noises, and oozed towards me instead. The hands holding me dragged me forwards, forcing me to my knees. Sticky mud encased my legs. River swore, throwing an iron knife, but the grindylows’ hands rose from the mud to snatch the weapon out of the air. Hisses and yelps came from below—the iron had burned them—but his weapon was gone.
Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the book, slipping out of my body. The slimy mud continued to climb. Morgan was submerged, too, while Hazel clung to a tree branch and River used his buried sword for balance as the swampy mud climbed ever higher.
Better hope necromancy works here.
I floated, pulling the book’s power into me, remembering when I’d been on the cusp of entering this realm. It had power. Not as much as our realm, but so many had died here, I must be able to use necromancy.
The air stirred. Coldness grew, a dark pit forming in the air. No. Not that.
The merrows turned around, screaming loudly at the sight of the growing form of darkness above the swamp. As one, they ran back to the deepest water and plunged into its depths. The dark shape continued to grow, cold energy stirring, the surface of the water freezing before my eyes.
With a tremendous cracking noise, River pulled his blade free from the now-iced marsh, while Hazel managed to crawl onto the branch. Morgan freed his leg, swearing loudly. And I continued to float in the air, power burning from my hands as the wraith solidified, drawn to my power. Go away!
Magical energy surged from the wraith’s hands, only to hit my shield. I jerked back into my body, my feet coming free from the frozen mud. “Guys, run! You can’t banish it here.”
“You have got to be kidding me, Ilsa,” Hazel shouted, clinging to the tree branch.
“I didn’t mean to summon it.”
I’d meant to get rid of the monsters. I hadn’t even spoken the summoning words. But the book’s magic attracted the dead.
Hazel’s hands splayed and a trickle of Summer magic struck the wraith, to no effect. My heart dropped when River advanced on it, across the ice, blade raised. Wait… he can do more damage with that here. The wraith was more solid than usual, so much that I suspected even an ordinary human without the Sight would be able to see it in this realm. Its form was almost human. A Sidhe, a Winter one, who’d died here in the realm of the exiles, filled with so much rage that its magic had survived beyond death.
I swallowed, my mouth dry. Necromantic power still hummed inside me, but I couldn’t free this wraith from its prison, not here.
Or can I? It wasn’t like I’d ever tried.
I called the book’s magic. Power rolled through my veins, pouring from my fingertips, and struck the wraith in an explosion of light. Its shadowy form became more distinct, and I squinted through the grey light, seeing its trapped clawed monstrous true form.
The ground froze underfoot, icy swamp water encasing my boots. Morgan drew something from his pocket—a necromancer’s spirit sensor—and hit the button. A jet of concentrated salt slammed into the wraith, knocking it away from me.
“Thanks,” I gasped, freeing my leg from the icy prison. I called the book’s magic once more, but Death didn’t open. My teeth rattled with the torrent of power, but when I spoke the banishing words, nothing happened.
Then I’ll have to finish it another way.
Necromantic power filled the air as River attacked it from behind. With his free hand, he raised the sword, green energy shimmering up to the hilt. He threw the blade in an arc, and the wraith screamed as it pierced through its transparent form.
At the same time, I blasted it with necromantic power. The wraith’s form cracked all over, pieces flaking away, and it disintegrated.
“It can’t reform,” River said, treading carefully over the half-frozen ground. I reached the blade first and handed it back to him. “Not enough magic here.”
“How’d you find any life energy here in the first place?” Hazel asked.
“There’s a little underneath the swamp,” River said. “Otherwise, I drew on my own reserves. I won’t be able to keep doing that, otherwise my healing ability will switch off.”
“I forgot you even had that,” Hazel commented. “You’re one step ahead of the rest of us.”
River shook his head. He looked pale under the swamp water. I’d never seen a Summer faerie use their own life energy to power a spell. It struck me as a highly risky thing to do, but here, it was probably the only option.
“Don’t overdo it,” I said. “You’re the only one here with the ability to cross realms directly if we find a nice Sidhe to help us escape.”
“I think we’re more likely to find a flying motorbike,” said Morgan, swearing as his feet stuck in the melting ice-covered mud. “Can’t you or Hazel make this bloody swamp disappear?”
“No,” said River. “We need to find an alternate route through the trees.” He looked around and pointed to the forest creeping down the lake’s side.
“Guys,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know using my magic would draw that thing here.”
“You did better than me,” said Morgan. “I was trying to attack it with my mind. Didn’t do a thing.”
“We’ve all probably caught our death of cold, but we’re still in one piece,” Hazel said shakily. “How is Mum coping in this place without magic? The whole realm is set against humans.”
“I think it’s meant to be set against Sidhe,” River said, shaking mud from the end of his blade. “They’re banished here with no magic. They’d be dead in a day.”
“That wraith wasn’t,” I pointed out. “It still had magic.”
“Then it was an outcast who came here on purpose, I’d guess,” River said. “Even those with magic can’t survive here. There’s no life, and no death either. Not the sort that powers Winter magic.”
“This sort, though.” I held up the book, the only part of me not covered in swamp water. “It’s not powered by being here, but it’s not underpowered, either.”
Gods’ magic. The Ancients. How could you harness that kind of power? Where had it even come from?
The Vale was created when the Sidhe cast out their gods…
My teeth chattered. River drew in closer to me, but he was shivering, too. His eyes had paled, leached of Summer magic. Not a good sign. “Don’t do that again,” I told him. “Use necromancy if we run into another of those things. I know it probably attracts more of them, but…”
“I’m willing to do whatever’s necessary to get us all out in one piece,” River said quietly. “To get you out of here. I think you should probably put that book away.”
We climbed the bank of the lake and walked carefully through silvery undergrowth. There were less wildly growing plants than there were in the borderlands, though the Vale bore a certain similarity to Lady Hornbeam’s territory underneath the grey. Of course, nothing actually grew here. The trees looked like ordinary oak and ash, but appeared to be frozen in time, their silvery leaves season-less and empty of life. Not dead, not alive. I shivered harder, unable to get warm no matter how quickly I walked. The others didn’t look much better. Morgan was limping. Hazel’s damp hair clung to her face, hiding the Gatekeeper’s mark. I doubted anyone out here cared about her status.
“F
inally,” Hazel said as we reached the path again. “Okay. Take us to Mum, you treacherous dead end of a forest.”
The path didn’t move. It looked identical to the last one. Hazel sighed heavily and continued to walk. So did I. My legs felt like lead weights, and the swamp water soaking my jeans didn’t help. Usually when I used necromancy, I felt more alive and alert. Now I felt more like I’d volunteered my own life energy to River’s spell.
The realm couldn’t have no beginning or ending. Even Faerie… okay, I didn’t know about Faerie. It was usually best not to think too hard about these things when magic was involved.
The book kept glowing. Like it wanted me to use its magic again. Nope. No more wraiths. We might not get lucky next time. River was still in the lead, but whenever he looked back to check on us, his face was lined with exhaustion.
“Can’t you ask the path to lead us out of this realm?” I asked. “I know there aren’t supposed to be exits, but someone’s clearly hopping in and out of the Court. There’s no harm in checking.”
River walked ahead without speaking, no longer moving at swift faerie speed. “No. There isn’t one, not open anyway.”
The path continued. I groaned. “Okay, let me think. If there’s no way out… is there a person who can get us out?”
River shook his head. “I wouldn’t. That would take us directly to the nearest Sidhe, and just because they can leave this realm doesn’t mean they’d have any intention of helping us. There are no allies here.”
“Dammit.” The book glowed brighter, and a shock of energy made me jump into the air. “I think the talisman’s trying to tell me something.”
“A warning?” said Hazel. “I—” She cut off in a startled shout as tree branches wrapped around her legs, pulling her into the earth.
I ran towards her, and branches grabbed my own feet. “Dammit.”
Morgan disappeared beneath the earth. River swore and grabbed his blade, but they’d gone. The book glowed brighter. I pulled it out and opened it. The pages shimmered too brightly to read. Necromantic power poured from my fingertips at the branches, but they refused to let go. They weren’t alive or dead, so my magic did nothing but rattle the branches without damaging them.
The ground gave way. River shouted my name. I closed my eyes, expecting to be hit by soil, but the earth appeared to be made of nothing but silvery leaves, which fell in slow motion either side of me. I stared, so mesmerised for a second that I forgot about the branches’ death grip on my legs.
Then I hit the dirt—or I would have, if more branches hadn’t risen to break my fall. We were in a cave, and branches held both Hazel and Morgan captive. Dried blood splattered the ground, and bones lay in crumpled heaps, including human-looking skulls. A foul smell emanated from one corner, where the corpse of a large furred boar-like creature lay on the ground.
“What the hell are you, some kind of carnivorous dryads?” Morgan wanted to know.
Rotting trees, half dead, holding us captive. I swallowed hard. They were the darker Summer magic type, which fed on life energy. If necromancy didn’t work, maybe iron would. I grabbed the iron filings container, but I’d lost too many of them in the lake. The iron simply bounced off the branches.
“It’d be nice of River to come and help,” Hazel said, struggling against the branches. “Ow. Why’d they take us and not him?”
“Probably because his blade could take them to pieces.” I looked up at the high ceiling, grabbing the knife from my bag. Attacking the trees would provoke a reaction, so I needed to move fast.
The knife barely made a dent in the tree’s tough branch. I gritted my teeth and sawed harder.
“Doesn’t work,” Hazel said, hacking away with her own knife.
“Shit.” I grabbed the book, skipping for the pages that told us how to get rid of man-eating dryads. There weren’t any. Think, Ilsa.
“Humans,” purred a voice. A humanoid creature with skin like bark entered the cave from the far end. Ugh. Vale faeries. I didn’t even know what this one was, maybe a cross between a skin-eater and a carnivorous dryad.
“Let us go, you sick fuck,” said Hazel.
“It’s so rare that my pets get to feast on human flesh…” The creature stepped into the light, which didn’t do its bark-like face any favours. Its eyes gleamed like torchlights. “You’re a rare gift. So much life…”
Hazel swore, leaning out of reach of the monster’s blade-like hand.
The creature laughed. “Your life magic won’t work down here… we’re all dead.”
The spirit realm folded over my vision… and the corpse in the corner rose to its feet. I gagged on the smell. “What the—?”
The human-like bones lying on the floor shifted, then rose upright into the semblance of a person.
“Looks like your prey isn’t as dead as you thought,” said Morgan.
No way. He didn’t.
The furred beast’s corpse shambled towards the fae creature. So did the bony human remains. In fact, the whole cave was buried in bones. I tapped into my spirit sight again and reached below the earth. Reanimating bones that old required a surge of life energy, but I didn’t need to hold them for long. Just enough to get us out.
Bones reformed into human and fae-like shapes, pulling themselves from the earth. The fae creature backed up, terror suffusing its craggy features. I twitched my leg, drew back and kicked, hard. The branch’s grip loosened enough for me to cut one leg free and then the other. Hazel had already freed herself, and we went to Morgan. He was almost submerged in branches, his expression glazed as he kept the dead under his control.
The fae creature bolted from the cave. I ran to Morgan and hacked away with the knife, and Hazel joined me. Finally, he broke free from the branches, the silvery light fading from his eyes.
Morgan fell onto Hazel, groaning. “Might’ve overdone it.”
“You’re a genius,” said Hazel.
“Obviously.”
I snorted, then groaned. “River probably thinks we’re dead. Can you find him, Hazel?”
“Sure, if I get back to the path.” Hazel and I pulled Morgan after us, and we ran towards the only visible exit.
There was no sign of the fae creature in the cave, which had probably run for the hills, and the carnivorous dryads were half buried where the dead had pulled themselves out the earth. But the furred zombie creature kept following us.
“Morgan,” I said. “You can’t bring a half-rotting corpse home with us.”
“Says who?”
I groaned. Hazel shook her head and walked past us through the cave. “I can see daylight up there.”
We emerged into undergrowth. Hazel climbed ahead, grabbing tree roots to pull herself up the sharp rise. Morgan and I followed more slowly, having to stop and disentangle ourselves from various bramble thickets and tree roots—thankfully not man-eating ones this time. Eventually, we reached the path. If it was the same path we’d been pulled into the cave from, I couldn’t tell. Silver trees, silver leaves, grey light.
“Is River here?” I asked Hazel.
“Don’t get so agitated. We won’t leave your boyfriend behind.”
The path changed before our eyes, revealing River and the fae monster, his sword buried in its neck. Blood splattered his face, but it had the blue tinge of faerie blood, not his own.
His eyes widened. “Ilsa.”
Hazel punched the air. “I finally got the bloody path to move where I told it.”
River drew closer to me. “Are you hurt?”
“Nope. We escaped cannibal trees by reanimating dead bodies.” I glanced at Morgan. “His idea. I wish I’d thought of it.”
“I thought I sensed necromancy.” River looked me up and down as though scanning me for injuries. “Was this creature the one who trapped you?”
“Yep.” I shot Morgan a look. “Call off the zombie boar.” I tapped into my spirit sight pointedly, which showed me the energy reanimating its corpse… and I saw the path ahead, swamped in grey
light. I hadn’t just seen trees like that in the Vale, but in the liminal spaces like the one we’d left the ghost in. Spaces which overlapped so closely with the Vale, it was easy to cross between realms there.
“I have an idea,” I said. “I think. Hellhounds can walk in and out of this realm all the time, right?”
“I’m not searching for hellhounds,” said Hazel.
“Search for a liminal space, then,” I said. “Once we’re at a liminal point, I can get us out. This realm does overlap with the Ley Line. Its magic—or whatever keeps this realm functioning—is tied to Death, and through that…”
“The mortal realm,” River said. “But I always thought the connection was one-way.”
“It usually is.” I held up the book. “But so is the way into Death. It’s worth a try.”
I called on the book’s cold, unrelenting energy, picturing the liminal space from before.
“This isn’t a liminal space,” said Hazel, pointing ahead. “It’s the forest. Looks the same.”
“Some liminal spaces look like that, too. Keep walking. Wait—you’re the one who can control the paths, right? You and River, picture a liminal space. I’ll try to take us there.”
The air went transparent for a second, showing a hillside beneath. Then it turned into woods again.
“This is where we got into the Court,” said Hazel. “No way.”
“You must have been thinking about it when you changed the path,” I said. “Okay. I can use the book to get us out.” The grey light grew brighter, and I held up the book, thinking of paths and gates, of ways between worlds.
The path solidified, then turned into the Vale again.
“Nope,” I muttered. “Come on.” I willed the book’s power to keep flooding me, and held up my hands. The air shimmered then went transparent again. With a push, like closing the gates of death, I shoved the air, and it parted.
Necromantic energy blasted me off my feet. The gate opened, wide. I pushed carefully, meaningfully—
And a pair of icy blue eyes stared back.
A startled scream caught in my throat, but I didn’t move or stop, gripping the book like a lifeline. The gates closed on the terrifying eyes, and I dropped to my knees.
The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy Page 56