If there was one activity faeries loved more than they loved waging war, it was revelry, especially with free elf wine by the barrel.
Half the Court had turned out for my official crowning as the Summer Gatekeeper, and from the number of noble Sidhe gathered under the roses crowning the ceiling of the main hall in the ambassadors’ palace, you wouldn’t think they thought humans were less worthy of regard than pond scum. Even the Sidhe were capable of pretending to show me a little respect if they got a free party out of it.
I stood on a raised platform flanked with midnight-blue curtains, wearing a dress of deep green edged with gold that billowed around my ankles. My eyes blazed with green Summer magic, the sun had tinted my hair with blond highlights, and the silver circlet moulded to my scalp. The Gatekeeper’s mark, a swirling symbol on my forehead, shone with arresting light, the closest I’d ever come to having the mesmerising ability to enchant the senses the Sidhe took for granted.
Lord Raivan, a Sidhe noble wearing a long green cloak and a hat decorated with bright red-and-orange leaves, called the room to attention. “The Sidhe council recognises Hazel Lynn as the official Gatekeeper of the Summer Court. Do you accept your position, Hazel?”
It’s not like I’m going to say no at this point.
My voice rang through the hall. “I accept.”
Magic streamed outward from the circlet, bathing the stage in green and gold light. To the watching nobles, I looked like I belonged among their finery, but everyone knew it was as much a lie as the glamour they wore to make their perfect features even more stunning. The instant the Gatekeeper’s mark had appeared on my forehead when I was twelve and the magic of Summer had roared to life in my veins, I’d been bound to the Court by a curse so powerful the Sidhe would rather pretend I belonged here than kick me out and risk said curse backfiring on them.
“That is all,” said Lady Aiten, a Sidhe with olive skin, a waterfall of dark hair, and long, flowing green robes. “Let the celebrations commence.”
Everyone turned away from the stage—those who’d actually been paying attention in the first place, that is—as the hall came to life with noise. Vats of elf wine occupied each corner, while buffet tables lined the walls. Plates were piled high with brightly coloured eggs, slabs of meat and jewelled insects, heaps of bright fruits arranged in patterns, loaves of freshly baked bread.
As I stepped around the midnight-blue curtains flanking the stage, a band took my place and began to play, filling the room with an eerie tune that sounded more like a funeral dirge than a celebratory jig. Some of the Sidhe paired off to dance, while others gathered in finely dressed groups, filling every available space between the creeping vines growing on the stone walls. The hall seemed vast by human standards, but with their dazzling magic, the Sidhe appeared to take up twice as much space as they should.
Walking among the Sidhe were smaller fae—piskies, hobgoblins, wood elves, dryads. I watched a deer bound past into the bushes, never quite sure whether it was a regular woodland creature or an unlucky human who’d fallen afoul of the fae. The mark on my forehead and the magical shield in my family’s bloodline curse were all that kept me safe from a similar fate, and while I’d survived to become Summer Gatekeeper, it didn’t mean I was under any illusions about the average lifespan of a human who stepped into Faerie. Everything about them—from the music to the food, to their lilting voices and eerie beauty—was toxic and irresistible all at once.
Seeing Lady Aiten heading my way, I ducked into the bushes to avoid another awkward conversation. Ever since I’d caught the Erlking’s killer—and discovered Lady Aiten had conspired with my own mother to hide his crown while the conspirators were at large—she and Lord Raivan had sought to ingratiate themselves with my family. I highly doubted she felt any guilt for showering me with accusations and having my mother arrested, so it was likely for appearances alone. I had half a mind to disappear back to the Lynn house before one of the drunken Sidhe wandered through my family’s gate, because if anyone in this room found out the Erlking’s talisman was hidden in my back garden, I’d get a hell of a lot worse than a jail sentence. My entire family would face execution.
“You traitorous reprobate,” a melodic voice purred from behind me.
I whipped around, feeling the sting of magic on my back as bolts of vivid green Summer magic collided in mid-air. Everyone backed away from two Sidhe who circled one another on the palace floor, their eyes alight with passion and hate. One, who wore the skin of a large white stag complete with antlers, shucked off his coat and transformed into a giant furred beast with clawed hands like a bear’s. His adversary’s lopsided green hat fell to the floor as he turned into a grey wolf the size of a car. With a roar, he lunged at the bear-creature, claws raking at fur, teeth tearing into flesh.
“That’s enough!” I shouted.
Magic ignited in the Gatekeeper’s circlet, spreading to my fingertips. Vines shot from my hands, curling around the beasts, and with a firm tug, I yanked the brawling Sidhe apart. Their fur retracted, and an instant later, I held two struggling warriors in my grasp.
“What exactly are you two fighting over?” I let the vines drop to the ground, releasing my two captives. “Hey—don’t turn into a bear again. This is my party you’re interrupting.”
The Sidhe who’d turned into a bear spat out blood. “This fool claims to be the Erlking’s successor.”
I glanced at the other guy, who was bleeding from a vicious scratch on his cheek. The room had gone quiet, the band’s music pausing to allow everyone to gawk at the fight. So much for sneaking out of here. It’d been a long shot to even consider leaving, considering the Sidhe couldn’t get through a five-minute meeting without someone drawing a blade or turning into a beast.
“I am the rightful ruler of the Summer Court,” rasped the wolf shapeshifter.
“That’s not for you to decide.” Nor was it mine, though my real test as Gatekeeper would come when I oversaw the crowning of a new monarch. Assuming the Sidhe ever figured out who the Erlking had nominated as heir, that is.
Evidently, some of them had other ideas about who was fit for leadership. What the hell was I supposed to do, kick the guy out? It was technically my party, after all, but getting into a fistfight with a giant wolf was not my idea of a good time.
“None of us knows who the Erlking chose to be his heir, but I would prefer not to begin my stint as Gatekeeper with any of you murdering one another,” I told the two Sidhe. “If you try it again, I’ll be forced to shut down the party, and everyone else is having a good time here, right?”
Lady Aiten stepped forward, her deep green cloak parting to reveal a dress of shimmering gold. “If you two are seen near one another again, you will be asked to leave. Is that understood?”
Glaring daggers at one another, the Sidhe gave murmurs of acquiescence and dispersed among the crowd to lick their wounds. Lady Aiten remained standing in the centre of the room.
“Nobody else is to bring up the subject of the Erlking tonight,” she added. “The next person to start a fight will spend the remainder of the night locked in the dungeon.”
A disinterested murmur went through the surrounding Sidhe, whose attention was already back on the band and the elf wine. I ducked into the bushes again, glad to be out of the spotlight. I’d be lying if I said I’d expected tonight to go ahead without a hitch, given my track record. I mean, the Erlking had been murdered before my Trials had even started, my family had been accused of his murder, and the Erlking himself had sent me a posthumous note with a few cryptic clues about his killers. Add in a mentor with his own mysterious loyalties, a best friend whose own brother had been drawn into the killers’ plot and my own accidental acquisition of the Erlking’s talisman and it was no wonder I was in dire need of a holiday.
Not that I’d be getting one. The Erlking had left no note of his preferred successor, leaving the question of Summer’s leadership up in the air. Wolf shapeshifters with delusions of grandeur were the least of the possible threats to the Erlking’s throne, since I had little doubt more of his jailed wife’s allies would pop up and try to weasel their way into power. On top of that, it was starting to look like my family’s collection of old books might contain a more complete record of the Erlking’s family tree than the Courts did.
I passed a fountain occupied by giggling nereids and selkies, skirted a group of gnomes doing some bizarre kind of dance which involved tossing one another around, and found an alcove away from the crowds. There, my mother, the former Gatekeeper, watched me with a mixture of pride and sorrow in her expression, her gaze lingering on the circlet on my head. “I should offer my congratulations.”
“Please don’t.” Mum knew I’d spent most of my teenage years resisting the Gatekeeper’s role, and. even as an adult, I’d searched for every possible route to break the curse. I’d been counting on the Erlking being alive, though, and now I’d need to ensure the Courts didn’t go to war before I even considered resuming my attempt to remove the Sidhe’s hold over my family.
Oh, and do something about the world-destroying talisman hidden in my back garden. Relinquishing the Erlking’s staff meant leaving it open for someone else to claim, and I wouldn’t trust a single faerie in this room with an electric kettle, let alone a dangerous magical artefact which possessed a consciousness of its own. Even I’d never truly grasped its potency until I’d felt its magic slithering over my skin, but damn if I didn’t resent the hell out of it for forcing me to lie to everyone in this room.
“One of us should go home,” Mum said in a low voice, “but I don’t like leaving you and your siblings alone in here.”
“If anyone else starts a fight, I’ve got it covered.” I tapped the circlet with my fingertip. “I’d feel more at ease if someone was at the Lynn house at all times.”
I’d prefer that person to be me, but it was my party, and I couldn’t keep one eye on the talisman and the other on the Court in the same moment.
“I bet that Sidhe won’t be the last to make an open challenge for the throne,” she said. “It likely won’t stop even when a successor is selected, for that matter.”
“Yes, I know, but I’d rather deal with that when the Sidhe aren’t all in the same room as several large vats of elf wine,” I said. “Anyway, River and Ilsa are here, too. Not to mention my self-appointed bodyguards from the Trials. I’ll be fine.”
The one person missing was Darrow, but he wasn’t part of the Summer Court. It was ridiculous to feel slightly miffed at my former mentor for missing my big event, though he’d never promised to show up. He’d fulfilled his duty and removed the mark binding us, yet he’d been at least partly responsible for me surviving my Trials, and his absence dampened my mood even further.
“All right.” Mum’s gaze panned across the gathered Sidhe, suspicion lingering in her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”
Poor Mum. Someone had to volunteer to keep an eye on the Erlking’s talisman, but the Sidhe were more likely to notice my absence than hers. As she left, Ilsa, my twin sister, waved me over to the corner where she stood with River, her half-Sidhe boyfriend. Her deep green dress billowed to knee-length, while her hair was a darker shade of brown than mine, a side effect of living under Scotland’s clouds rather than the Summer Court’s perpetual sunshine. She and Morgan—and now Mum—shared the same dark brown eyes, making me the odd one out among the other Lynns.
“Nice job back there,” Ilsa told me. “Breaking up the fight, I mean.”
“Not being crowned as Gatekeeper.” A smile curled my lip. “That’s about as much of an achievement as being born. Zero effort required on my part.”
“I don’t know about that, those Trials were no joke,” Ilsa said. “And going into the Vale… confronting the outcasts…”
“Exactly,” said River. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“That’s supposed to be my line.” Ilsa squeezed her boyfriend’s hand and smiled.
While River dressed the same as one of the Sidhe, his human heritage was evident in the way he kept his curly blond hair cut short, there were faint traces of stubble on his face, and his body was corded with muscle that most Sidhe hadn’t a hope of achieving. His worshipful gaze rarely left my sister’s face, and I found myself fighting an inexplicable surge of jealousy.
What’s wrong with you, Hazel? Ilsa had probably felt the same envy towards me for years, because being a Lynn who wasn’t a Gatekeeper meant suffering the faeries’ cruel pranks without the Sidhe’s magic to back it up. There was nothing Ilsa had that I didn’t… except for a steady relationship, a job that didn’t involve answering to the Sidhe, and no destructive talisman whispering dark promises in her ear.
My brother, Morgan, walked towards us, holding a glass of crimson elf wine. I reached and yanked it out of his hand. “None of that.”
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” he said indignantly.
“You never are, that’s the problem.” Whenever I took my eyes off Morgan in Faerie, he ended up getting totally wasted and doing stupid shit like chasing mermen around fountains and letting his pet faerie dog chew on the Sidhe’s tapestries. Okay, he’d mellowed a little since he’d started full-time employment at Edinburgh’s necromancer guild and found himself a nice human boyfriend, but that was the problem with my family. We didn’t really do ‘normal’, and I’d prefer not to have to break up another incident.
“Is Mum gone?” asked Ilsa.
“Yep,” I said. “The gate’s right outside the doors to the palace. I asked Coral to keep an eye out and make sure no Sidhe go wandering that way, but I’d rather someone was there in person.”
My sister’s expression shadowed, knowing my thoughts were on the talisman. Both of us had mixed feelings on our decision to hide it from the Court, but the brawl I’d just witnessed was proof we’d made the right call. The Inner Garden’s healing waters kept the talisman’s destructive power contained—for now, at least. I suspected Etaina, the leader of the Aes Sidhe, might know how to get rid of it in a more permanent manner, but making another bargain with her would be risky on multiple levels. Etaina had been no friend of the Erlking’s before her people had split from the Summer Court, and I’d be a fool to assume she wanted his talisman for altruistic reasons.
Morgan swiped the glass of elf wine from my hand again. “Why do you two look so miserable? This is supposed to be your party, Hazel.”
“I’m tired,” said Ilsa. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, she’d been awake half the night again helping Mum work on assembling the Erlking’s family tree while also holding down a full-time job at Edinburgh’s necromancer guild and applying for a PhD. If you asked me, that was a more impressive endeavour than being chosen as the Summer Gatekeeper.
River squeezed her arm. “We can leave, if you like.”
“You aren’t leaving me alone in here,” Morgan said. “Not if Miss Gatekeeper won’t let me take one sip of elf wine.”
“The last time you did, you tried to mimic the Sidhe’s dancing and ended up breaking both of your ankles,” I pointed out. “It’s bad enough that my guests keep turning into bears and attacking one another.”
Morgan snorted. “That’s pretty normal for a faerie event. Just wait for the orgy to start.”
“It already has.” Ilsa pointed to a room through an open door on the left, in which everyone seemed to have misplaced all their clothes.
“It’s not a faerie revel without everyone getting naked and banging in the bushes.” I rolled my eyes. “You two are both taken, so you don’t get to have any fun here.”
From the way Ilsa and River were acting around one another, they wouldn’t object to getting naked in the bushes without any magic being involved. I averted my gaze from the door, trying unsuccessfully to forget the last time I’d been to a similar event, in which Darrow and I had ended up having an unplanned, incredibly hot make-out session.
I wouldn’t lie, I’d been interested to see where those feelings led. But to say our relationship was complicated was an understatement. We worked for different Courts, he wanted to take the Erlking’s talisman and hand it over to his own leader… yeah, complicated was an understatement, really.
There was also the clause in my Gatekeeper’s contract forbidding me from dating faeries and decreeing that the next Gatekeeper would be chosen from among the children of the previous generation. That day had seemed miles off when I’d been heir and Mum had been Gatekeeper, but now…
“Gatekeeper!” said a frantic voice. A semi-transparent sprite dressed in a miniature version of a lime-green suit fluttered over my shoulder to hover in front of me. “Gatekeeper… Lady Aiten wishes to speak with you, urgently.”
I suppressed a groan. “I told her four times this week already—we haven’t found the heir. What’s this about?”
“It’s an urgent matter,’” said the sprite, eyeing my siblings. “Gatekeepers only.”
Great. Shooting Ilsa an apologetic look, I made my way through the hall, dodging groups of finely-dressed Sidhe and hooved satyrs, white-haired nereids and bark-skinned dryads. No other humans were present, but groups of half-faeries clustered near the Sidhe nobles, as though hoping to catch their attention. I recognised one dark-haired half-faerie practically tripping over the cloak of a tall elven warrior clad in armour in an effort to stay within his line of sight. It seemed Aila had found someone new to stalk, in Darrow’s absence. She shot me a sour look as I passed, and I gave her a smile in return.
Beside the oak doors, Lady Aiten stood in conversation with several Sidhe dressed in armoured clothing. They’re prison guards. Oh, bugger.
I dodged a waltzing pair of female selkies in shimmering sealskin dresses and went to meet them. “Hey, Lady Aiten. What is it?”
“We’ve recently found that there’s been a breakout from the Summer Court’s jail,” said Lady Aiten. “During the events when the outcasts attacked the Court.”
“That was days ago.” A chill ran through my blood. “Who broke out?”
“Lord Daival, former assistant to the Seelie Queen.”
