“I watched Sidhe fall, entranced by those talismans, or driven to madness,” the Erlking continued. “They were exiled, where they formed their own kingdoms to threaten us, over and over again. Immortality has taken more lives than it has saved, and I rather think your realm has paid most dearly for it. But many disagree. They see it as the natural way of things.”
“What can we do against the gods?” I asked. “How are we supposed to find our mother?”
I already knew the answer.
“The book,” he said. “The missing piece. I haven’t seen it for a while. It used to visit here… maybe it speaks to another now.”
“It’s alive?” said Hazel dubiously. “It can speak? I thought you said the gods weren’t alive anymore.”
“Not as they were.”
That’s no answer. Now I was even more confused. Was he toying with me on purpose?
“You should leave,” he said. “It was dangerous, what you did. I wish I could offer more help.”
“You could help by telling us the name of the god inside this book,” I said. “Speaking it aloud didn’t do anything.”
But we’d been in Death at the time. Maybe its owner was here, in Faerie.
“Not here,” he said sharply. “You’ll alert other things if you speak that name. Go. Before you’re discovered here.”
“Wait—”
But the forest faded, turning to hillside once again. The city unfurled below, wreathed in sunshine. As though nothing had happened.
As though the foundations of the universe hadn’t shifted.
“What in hell was that about?” Hazel said, her hair blowing about in the breeze coming off the coast. “He said the gods weren’t alive. And they aren’t. But one of them has Mum and one of them’s flown off with part of your book’s power.”
Flown off.
“Hazel,” I said quietly.
Her brow furrowed. “What? You have this weird look in your eye.”
“I think…”
“Ilsa!” River shouted. He and Morgan climbed up from below. They must have been waiting down the hillside.
“Knew they’d make it out,” said Morgan. “So, what did the Erlking have to say?”
“I’ll tell you on the way down,” I said. “One quick question, Hazel—in all your research on the family history, did you find out how long Arden has been in our family?”
Hazel frowned. “No. Where’s Ivy?”
“She teleported off with that mage of hers,” said Morgan. “Something about the council… I dunno. Where is that little bastard of a bird, anyway?”
“Probably with Holly,” said Hazel. “It’s not like he could have got us to the Erlking, anyway.”
“Maybe he could have,” I said. “He’s tied up in the vow as well. Who did that?”
“The Erlking did?” said Morgan.
Hazel shook her head, still frowning. “He didn’t mention it, but he must have. Who else? Arden’s a shapeshifter faerie… he was probably sent as a spy. I mean, Arden works for both sides. Maybe Winter sent him instead. Which proves he was a traitor either way.”
“What else came from Winter?” I asked.
Hazel looked at me. Then at my pocket, which was still glowing faintly from the close proximity of the Ley Line. “You can’t be implying what I think you are.”
“I’m lost,” said Morgan. “River is, too, but he won’t admit it. Or he’s too busy messaging someone.”
River’s attention was on his phone instead. “I’m listening,” he said. “But he’s right—I don’t know enough of your family history to make a judgement call on the bird, only that he can’t be trusted and works for both Courts.”
“As a neutral force, he said. I remember,” I said. “Which part of the Court is neutral?”
“The borderlands?” said Morgan. “Or the Vale?”
“Right…” I shook my head. “This is a long shot. I might have wildly misinterpreted what the Erlking said, but he said the book had a piece missing. Someone bound up its magic, and it must have been a Sidhe… a Winter one. But its power originally came…”
“From the gods, I know,” said River. “You think you know which god it was?”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” snapped Hazel. “Ilsa thinks Arden is a god.” She snorted. “Sorry, Ilsa. But you know, that’s a wild mental leap to make. The gods are supposed to be more powerful than the Sidhe.”
“Not with their magic removed,” I said. “They’re mostly dead. Or exiled. To the Vale… I’m not saying I have the slightest clue how its magic got in here, but who dragged me back to the Lynn house in the first place?”
“Wait,” said Morgan. “There were ravens flying around when I went back to Edinburgh. My memory’s kinda hazy, but I remember following one…”
We looked at one another. Hazel looked sceptical. So did River. But I couldn’t explain how I knew.
“The book has a really annoying personality,” I said. “It’s demanding and bossy and refuses to give clear answers. Makes sense that it has part of that damned raven inside it.”
“Doesn’t that mean you should be able to call him?” said Hazel. “He’s… Ilsa, I’m not being mean, but that raven has never listened to you in his life.”
“He has the last few times,” I said. “He got us into Summer… but he’s only allowed to obey the Gatekeepers. There’s definitely a vow on him to that effect. And vows probably work just as well on the gods as the Sidhe. The Sidhe borrowed the rest of their magic from them.”
“Arden,” Hazel called. I shushed her, but she ignored me. “Arden, Ilsa thinks you’re a god.” She laughed. “I wish it were true. It’d help us now for sure. But he’s been no help in times of crisis.”
“Like I said.” I pulled the book from my pocket. “He’s vow-bound. I don’t think we should summon him here. It’s not like the Erlking… we know he’s a god.”
“I know Faerie’s magic has gone to your head,” said Hazel.
I didn’t even have the energy to be annoyed at her for not believing me. “Then let me try summoning him. If he’s a Vale creature and in this realm, I can use necromancy. Worst case scenario is we know one theory is out. Deal?”
22
The mages must still be in a meeting, because nobody was in the lobby of their headquarters. I’d have picked the necromancers’ guild as a safer place to try to summon Arden, but the iron bindings would likely stop us. It wasn’t like I actually knew which realm he was in. We’d try necromancy, then if that failed, blood magic. Not that I’d mentioned the latter part yet. Maybe I didn’t need to. If Arden was really bound to our family, then that alone should make him answer our call.
River brought the candles with him, laying them out on the floor of a spare room.
“Can you summon someone who’s not a ghost?” asked Morgan.
“If he’s in the Vale or the Ley Line, since he’s originally from the Vale himself,” I said. “This is as controlled a setting as we can get, and if he’s pissed at us for figuring out what he is, then we need all the protection there is.”
Not that a dozen candles and an iron and salt barrier felt like much against the gods, but the magic users of times past must have found a way around it. The gods had been involved with this realm for at least as long as the Sidhe had.
I also wielded his power. Part of it. For what it was worth.
I faced the circle. Spoke the words. And ended with the Gatekeeper’s name.
There was a whirl of smoke within the circle. And then… the winged form of the raven appeared.
It actually was him.
Hazel’s jaw dropped. Morgan backed slowly away. And River drew his blade so fast, it blurred.
“You,” I said to Arden. “Nice of you to show up to help. Have you been helping the Winter Gatekeeper instead?”
“Actually, I’ve been giving her terrible advice for weeks,” he said blandly. “I wondered when you’d work it out.”
“You might have told me sooner,” I said he
atedly.
“To prove what, exactly?”
“That you’re on our side, and not out to kill us.” The book nearly had killed me several times. “You think this is fun? You want us to die?”
“No. I would prefer to avoid a war. The enemy wants war and your own path will lead to the same. Therefore, I work for nobody.”
“But you’re still working for her,” I said through clenched teeth.
“No. I serve the other Winter Gatekeeper.”
“Holly,” I said. “You’re still… an Ancient. Your magic…”
The raven cackled. “If I had powerful magic independent of that book, I would have used it to break this spell.”
Hazel mouthed, Holy shit.
I arched a brow back at her so as to say, I told you so. Not that I felt particularly triumphant now it hit me that the only way to access the full extent of my book’s power was to wrangle obedience out of the most unreliable raven in any realm.
“You nearly got us killed before,” I said to him. “You’re not trustworthy at all. How do we know you’re not the one behind the whole scheme? You must have been as powerful as the Sidhe are. Before whatever got you trapped in that form.”
His eyes flashed furiously. The book glowed in my pocket.
“Yes, I suppose you could say I was. The first Winter Gatekeeper thought it amusing to keep me chained,” he said dismissively. “I served her every whim for many years, unable to leave their home. Then one day, the dead came through the gate. They attacked the house when the Gatekeeper was absent. Their daughter was left behind.” He paused. “The girl was somewhat accomplished at necromancy, as the line ran in both sides of the family. But it wasn’t enough. Something evil was coming through the gates. Chained as I was, I couldn’t fight it. So I handed my powers over to her. The power was volatile and nearly killed her. After she succeeded in banishing the dead, she sought the help of the council and they offered to bind the power to the book. Such was its power that every one of them was sucked beyond the gates, forgotten, leaving only the book.”
I rocked back on my heels, wishing I’d brought a chair to fall into. “You woke the book for me so I could wield it against a similar enemy. But you hid most of the right information from me until it was too late. Why?”
“Your idea of the ‘right information’ would have wrought destruction if used at the wrong time.”
“And you’d know? You weren’t even there.”
The raven flapped his wings, hovering within the circle. “The book’s original owner knew the dangers it posed. She knew the gates wouldn’t be closed forever. The oblivion beyond the gates waited, and others waited to claim it. So she kept the book and left no record of how to use it.”
“If she’d left a record, I wouldn’t have been running around clueless while people got hurt,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
“Or you might have died yourself. You should know what the book does when its power isn’t contained. You are not the same as one of us. You’re mortal.”
“No shit,” I said. “I know I’m mortal. The book has been tearing me apart every time I use it. But there’s no other option. Is the whole point in it that I turn into a martyr or let the worlds fall apart? It’s not like the Sidhe are exactly careful with their magic either.”
“Of course they aren’t,” said the raven, his beady eyes gleaming.
“Can you at least tell me where Mum is? She’s in the Vale. Along with the gate. And whatever is holding her is stronger than the Erlking. What are we supposed to do?”
“Kill it. Everyone can die, even the gods,” the raven spat.
The summoning circle trembled. Then the ceiling opened, and plaster dust rained down. Shouts came from outside, but sounded oddly muted.
I’ve seen this before. “Did you do it?” I demanded. “You’re breaking the house.”
“Not me,” he said. “Caw. Run. Run.”
A tremendous blast of icy air rushed into the room, and Holly ran in through the open door. She looked at the summoning circle, then at me.
It wasn’t her eyes looking at me, but the Winter Gatekeeper’s.
“Finally,” she growled. “If only I’d known there was one of the gods beside me all this time…”
My spirit sight flickered, showing me two spirits where there should only be one. The Winter Gatekeeper must have crossed over from the gate, long enough to latch onto Holly’s body and temporarily possess her. And her magic had come along for the ride.
Arden screeched. His body shifted forms, to a larger bird with sharp talons, and he lunged out of the circle at Holly. Before he struck her, he collided with an invisible barrier. Dust continued to rain down, and creaking noises came from overhead.
The Winter Gatekeeper’s laughter came from Holly’s mouth. “The curse still binds you even in that form. You cannot harm the current Gatekeeper… and now that’s me once again.”
But I can. The book’s power hummed in my fingertips, and the binding words left my lips—
Not before she screamed a word. My body left the ground, slamming into the wall. River shouted my name, and a rain of plaster dust drowned out everything else. I pushed away from the wall, my vision swimming.
The window shattered in an explosion of glass and Ivy Lane jumped in, pointing her blade at Holly. “I have no idea who you are, but you look like someone I have to kill.”
“Ilsa.” River ran to me. I groaned. The book’s power… Where was it?
An Invocation. She spoke an Invocation. The words of the gods—she’d done something to my magic. And the house. The rain of plaster dust had stopped, and though creaking noises came from overhead, the building had stopped collapsing.
All eyes locked onto Arden, who kept shapeshifting. Morgan spoke the banishing words, but Arden didn’t vanish from the circle.
The Winter Gatekeeper laughed lightly. “You can’t so easily banish a god when you summon one, you foolish children.”
“Go back to hell,” I growled. I didn’t want to hurt Holly, but I’d restrain the evil spirit by any means necessary. Come on, book. She couldn’t have indefinitely blocked its power.
River’s hands lit up, and he ran at Holly, blasting her in the direction of the circle. He wasn’t bound by the spell not to harm her, but Holly barely stumbled. A knife appeared in her hands. No.
Ivy got there first, but Holly shouted an Invocation again. Everyone in the room fell to the ground, pushed by a relentless force. I could barely raise my head to watch as Holly grabbed Arden’s struggling body and stabbed him in the throat. Blood poured over her hands.
“Lifeblood,” I whispered. “Shit.”
“Tell me that bird isn’t what I think it is,” Ivy muttered.
“I can’t do that. Sorry.” The powerful force continued to press on me. “She’s trying to recreate the cauldron of blood. That god… his power’s in the book.”
Holly gasped, falling to her knees, as the Winter Gatekeeper’s spirit let go of her, dissolving into the bloody mass on the floor.
The blood rose like a living force, encasing the Winter Gatekeeper’s spirit like she was solid. Her outline gleamed, no longer remotely like a ghost. The god’s blood filled in the gaps, binding her to the land of the living once more.
“I am the first to be reborn,” she said, with a smile.
Holly stared at her in horror, at the thing that had once possessed her, given life once again. The Winter Gatekeeper’s raven-black hair was glossier than it’d been before. Her face was angular and her ears pointed. Black armour encased her body, now taller and sleeker than a human’s. She’d always been striking, but now she was breath-taking—and raw Winter magic shone in her glowing blue eyes.
“I’ll let the Sidhe queue up to beg to be next,” she added, then spoke a word. The blood on the floor disappeared in a whirl of light, which passed into her hands. In the blink of an eye, she held a book covered in leather the colour of blood. “I thought this was an appropriate host for power. Ancien
t tomes hold magic, don’t they, Ilsa?”
I couldn’t respond or move. My throat was dry, my mind fighting the instinctive fear of setting eyes on one of the Sidhe. She might still superficially resemble the mortal she’d been before, but my mind screamed wrong at the very idea of one of them standing in this realm.
“How the hell did you know that language?” said Ivy. “All records in this realm were destroyed.”
“Knowledge can be relearned and recovered,” she said. “But I think you know I have allies in dangerous places. And now the source of immortality rests with me alone.”
She was truly immortal now. Had even the Sidhe started out the way they were? Or were their own bodies artificial creations of the blood of their predecessors?
Think, Ilsa. I twitched my hand, remembering I still held the book. The symbol on the cover had gone, and from what I could see of the edges of the pages, they were entirely blank.
The Winter Gatekeeper’s Sidhe form raised a hand, deflecting Ivy’s sword.
“You don’t think you’re the first posturing immortal I’ve had to kill, do you?” Ivy said. “You’re nothing.”
The Winter Gatekeeper’s hands glowed, forming a blazing current of Winter magic, and threw it at Ivy. Ice shattered the walls, striking the falling debris, burying Ivy beneath it. Hazel and Morgan shouted in alarm, and River grabbed my arm. I moved my body to shield him, and the magic ricocheted off the Lynn shield—but not Ivy.
She lay limply on the floor, blood pooling around her. I gasped and moved forwards, but she lifted her head a little.
“The faerie killer is down,” said the Winter Gatekeeper, turning on me. “And the Gatekeeper’s power is bound.”
And we can’t banish her. Because she no longer had a soul in the sense that humans did. She’d entirely merged with her new Sidhe body. The only way to kill her was to take away the source of her immortality. But there was one type of magic she wasn’t immune to.
The Gatekeeper's Curse- The Complete Trilogy Page 63