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Emma L Adams

Wild Fury: The Gatekeeper's Fate Book 3 (Paperback)

Wild Fury: The Gatekeeper's Fate Book 3 (Paperback)

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Book 3 of 3: The Gatekeeper's Fate

The Wild Hunt succeeded at summoning the dark god of the fae underworld, and with the Scourge running amok in the mortal realm, Holly Lynn finds herself with little choice but to seek out another bargain with the faeries.

Unfortunately for her, the Unseelie Queen refuses to help without a steep cost, and even the magic Holly borrowed from the Morrigan isn't enough to guarantee her victory.

Without the aid of the Sidhe, the odds of thwarting the god seem insurmountable, but there are some secrets hidden even from the Courts. The gods are inexorably tied up with the lies that bound the former Gatekeepers, and her allies' only hope of success lies in secrets that Holly thought was buried along with their ancestor, Thomas Lynn.

Holly and her cousins race against the clock to untangle the web of their family history in the hopes of bringing down their deadly foe. As war with the gods brews among faeries and humans alike, Holly finds herself pushed to make an impossible choice.

With the Sidhe and their gods alike, all debts must be repaid sooner or later, and Holly may be the one to pay the price…

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Never expect a faerie not to screw you over.

Given my years of experience in dealing with the Sidhe, you’d think I’d know what to expect by now, but after two weeks had passed since the god of death escaped into the mortal realm and the Unseelie Queen had yet to make an appearance, I couldn’t help thinking that she cared more about screwing with me than she did about catching said death god before he wreaked havoc across two realms.

I’d given Winter’s monarch an enticing offer, or so I’d thought, but weeks had passed since I’d sent Lord Lyle to tell her that I would willingly help her catch the escaped Wild Hunt warriors who’d caused her so much grief if she offered to give me the means of finding the elusive death god myself. While the time difference between the mortal realm and Faerie was as variable and inconsistent as the weather, I doubted that was the reason for her lack of response.

If the god of death had been roaming around Faerie, she might have been singing a different song altogether, but since he’d vanished in the mortal realm, she plainly wasn’t in any hurry to agree to my deal. While the god, also known as the Scourge, had yet to return to the city of Edinburgh, any potential disturbance in the realm of the dead had everyone on high alert, which was how I’d found myself spending this morning helping some of the local necromancers handle complaints from the locals about a screaming spirit in the catacombs. 

“They weren’t more specific than that?” I asked my cousin Morgan, who also happened to be the older brother of the necromancer guild’s Gatekeeper of Death.

“No,” he replied. “The ghost is stuck in a wall, apparently. Are you finally joining the guild, then?”

“No.” I dropped my voice as the rest of our patrol joined us: Jas, Keir, and Lloyd. The latter held the reins of Pepper the faerie puppy as he ran around barking excitedly, as if we’d taken him to the park and not a hole in the ground. The rest of us were less than enthused about combing the underground tunnels, especially me. It’d been my cousin Ilsa who’d actually invited me on this mission, but she’d been dragged into a guild meeting with her boyfriend River and left me to cobble together an excuse as to why I could suddenly use necromancy despite having had no aptitude for it in the past.

As it turned out, borrowing magic from the Morrigan, the soul-eating queen of the death fae, had some major side effects. 

At the foot of the stone staircase, we found ourselves in a series of interconnected square rooms with stone walls which exuded a chill that reached the very marrow of my bones. The only decent source of light was the witch-made spell Jas wore on her wrist, which emitted a glow like a torch, while Morgan and Lloyd got out a couple of necromantic candles whose small bluish lights didn’t do much to dispel the gloom.

Pepper ran in circles and happily sniffed every corner while Jas held the light spell in front of her. Since she was barely five feet tall, her light only showed a small area of the room and left the ceiling in shadow. “I can’t sense any ghosts.”

I’d have to take her word for it on that. She and the others had easy access to the spirit sight, while I could only use mine if I shape-shifted into a giant bird-woman, and I figured the others didn’t need to see that mentally scarring sight in an already creepy set of catacombs. Besides, if I used my spirit sight to peek at the souls of living and dead beings, I became unable to see my real-world surroundings, as I’d learned the hard way through sustaining several injuries while exploring the extent of the powers the Morrigan had loaned me before her inconvenient disappearance.

“Where’d the reports say the wailing was coming from?” asked Lloyd. 

“Inside the walls.” Jas took a step back, the light casting eerie shadows across her pale features and glinting on the piercing in her lower lip. “Supposedly. These tombs have been here for, what, at least a century?”

“Ghosts don’t last that long.” Keir produced a torch and shone it around the smooth stone walls before walking into the neighbouring room.

“Hey, don’t run off with the light,” Morgan protested.

“You could have brought something more effective than a candle,” the vampire said over his shoulder. “Isn’t this place supposed to be a tourist trap? You’d think a screaming ghost would be good for business.”

“The guild is obligated to investigate any spirit-related complaints from the public,” Jas said. “However ridiculous they might be.”

Keir made an irritated noise. Jas’s boyfriend seemed to have been forced into the guild under duress, since he had zero interest in routine missions and was more likely to be found wandering off and getting into fights than actually banishing ghosts. Then again, Morgan’s penchant for running headfirst into danger and Jas’s tendency to blow holes in the walls with experimental witch magic didn’t make them particularly reliable either. 

Why did I come with them again?  I shivered, digging my hands in my pockets to avoid the chill and wishing I’d thought to borrow one of the necromancers’ long black cloaks, which formed the main part of their uniform. My tattered jeans and jacket had seen better days, and while it wasn’t like I had to go to the Unseelie Court on a daily basis anymore, if I kept getting invited to meetings with the Council of Twelve, I needed to upgrade my wardrobe. Somewhat difficult since all my cash went on paying the bills. 

Until recently, I’d scraped together a living doing odd jobs for the local mercenaries, hunting down troublesome rogue fae beasts. Since the one souvenir I’d kept from my days as the Winter Gatekeeper had been the Sight—the ability to see faeries—I’d been uniquely equipped to deal with any fae-related issues. Work had been in short supply lately, so I’d decided to put my newfound skills to use instead, but we didn’t see a single ghost as we made our way through the catacombs. Neither did we hear any wailing, except from Pepper when Morgan accidentally tripped over him in the dark. The faerie dog recovered, ran ahead into the next room, and then began barking frantically.

“Calm down.” Morgan followed him, the candle in his hands making his tall, skinny frame resemble a wandering reaper. “Pepper, what are you doing?”

The puppy barked again, striking the wall with his front paws. As the rest of us entered the room, a faint sound echoed within, like the whistle of wind in the treetops.

“What’s that?” asked Lloyd.

“Shh.” Jas caught his arm. “Keep quiet, everyone. I heard something.”

Gradually, the sound resolved into a voice, muffled as if trapped behind a wall. “Hello?”

“Someone is in there.” Lloyd drew to a halt next to his boyfriend, who dropped his candle in surprise at the sudden voice. While Morgan scrambled to retrieve it, Jas hurried over to join the puppy beside the wall.

“Is anyone in there?” she called out. “D’you think there’s a hidden room or passageway behind there?”

Keir rapped on the wall with his knuckles. “No, that’s solid rock.”

Silence spread throughout the room, but no further greetings followed from the disembodied voice. Ghosts usually haunted somewhere they’d spent time while they were alive or where they’d died, but these tombs had been mostly frequented by tourists since the twentieth century, as far as I was aware. How had a wandering spirit possibly ended up trapped all the way down here?

“There can’t be a ghost inside the wall,” Lloyd said.

“Try telling him that,” said Keir.

“There’s no room for a living person,” said Jas. “Maybe the spirit doesn’t realise he isn’t solid and that he can float straight through the wall and escape.”

Morgan peered at the solid surface. “Oi, ghost. Fly towards the light.”

No reply came. Jas knocked on the wall with her knuckles. “Can you hear us?”

“Hello?” the disembodied voice called back. “Who’s there?”

“Necromancers,” Jas replied. “Are you inside the wall?”

“I don’t know, but it’s dark.” The ghost’s voice echoed faintly. “Can you help me get out of here?”

“Was the ghost’s body buried under the wall?” Lloyd asked. 

“Hope not,” said Morgan. “Listen, you should be able to fly out. Should I come and get you?” 

“I’m not dragging your disembodied form out of the wall if you get yourself stuck, Lynn,” Keir said.

“Shut up, Langford.” Morgan rapped his knuckles on the wall. “Better than leaving him in there.”

“Keir, be nice,” Jas said to her boyfriend.

The vampire shook his head. “Look, if I’d known we were dealing with a spirit this dense, I’d have asked the guild to send some novices instead.” 

“You are a novice,” Lloyd pointed out. “If you want to be pedantic. Anyway, the ghost might be part of something more.”

“Aside from the wall?” Keir faced the solid surface. “Listen, mate, how long have you been in there?”

“Since they built this place in the nineteenth century?” said Morgan.

Not likely. Usually, spirits returned shortly after their death and didn’t last for more than a few days.

“Don’t give him ideas,” Keir said. “He doesn’t talk like a two-hundred-year-old ghost. I think he’s bullshitting us.”

“I dunno. The veil has been screwed up recently.” Morgan gave the wall another firm knock with his fist. “I can definitely see something in there.”

“Fine, I’ll look.” Keir’s eyes glowed faintly grey-blue as he studied the wall. Without my own spirit sight turned on, it was harder to tell when a necromancer disconnected from their body to wander the spirit realm, but from the way the vampire’s body went completely still as though the Unseelie Queen had turned him into an ice statue, I suspected he’d floated straight through the wall to take a look for himself.  

“Hey—are you seriously rescuing the ghost yourself?” Morgan said to the vampire’s statue-like body. “You bloody hypocrite. You’re not supposed to go drifting off without using candles, anyway.”

“Oh, come on, Morgan,” said Lloyd. “You never follow the regulations yourself. Maybe the vampire can see what’s going on over there.”

Keir stirred, his eyes opening wide as he returned to his corporeal form. “Something is blocking me from reaching the ghost. A barrier of some sort.”

“You mean the wall?” said Lloyd.

“No, something else.” Keir paced along the wall, while Jas crouched down near the spot where he’d been standing.

“Hey,” she said. “Check this out.”

Everyone gathered around her to look at the underside of the wall, where a half-concealed opening was visible. It was barely big enough for a child to fit into, but Jas shone her glowing wrist into the hole and then stuck her head in to look around.

“Jas, don’t get buried under the wall,” Lloyd said. “Is there an invisible barrier under there?”

“I can’t see one, but the tunnel passes underneath the wall,” she said. “I can crawl in, I think. Unless someone else wants to volunteer.”

Given that Jas was the smallest member of our group, she was the only person likely to be able to crawl through the tunnel without getting stuck.

“No,” Keir said. “You might get trapped in there.”

“I have this.” Jas indicated the light spell, which overlapped with several other bracelets on her wrists. “I also have more spells to protect myself if the wall collapses on my head.”

“Don’t tempt fate,” said Morgan. “Rather you than me, then.”

“It’s no big deal.” Jas lay flat on her stomach and wriggled headfirst into the hole, disappearing inch by inch. It wasn’t until her feet were barely visible that she exclaimed, “Hey, I found something.”

“What is it?” I asked. 

Shuffling noises came from inside the wall. “There’s some kind of marks on the floor.”

“Witch marks?” I crouched down in an attempt to see past her, but I hadn’t a hope in hell of fitting into that narrow tunnel, and besides, Jas’s feet entirely blocked the view.

There came a loud scraping noise, followed by indistinct laughter from somewhere within the wall. Then a flash lit up the room from somewhere behind us, and a half-dozen transparent figures filled the space around us. Ghosts.

All of us spun around as the ghosts’ hands ignited with blue energy. Kinetic power blasted off the walls, forcing us to drop to the stone floor. Morgan and Lloyd scrambled to retrieve more candles from their pockets, while shadows swept across my hands, turning them into curved black claws. I grabbed at the nearest ghost before it could corner the others, and it shrieked in surprise when the curved end of my claw hooked straight into its transparent form. 

“Go to hell.” I flung the ghost aside and into the path of a blast of necromantic power from Lloyd’s hands. The ghost vanished in a flash, while a second took its place. They weren’t powerful spirits, despite claiming the element of surprise, and each took only a couple of hits before vanishing into the afterlife. 

Keir grappled with another ghost, a glowing light spreading from its transparent form to his hands before the spirit vanished. Up close, his vampire’s draining ability didn’t look that different from the magic I’d borrowed from the Morrigan, though I didn’t know if he’d appreciate me pointing that out. Come to think of it, though, a vampire’s ability to drain someone’s spirit essence worked on living people as well as dead ones. Did the Morrigan’s magic too? I doubted anyone would line up to act as a guinea pig, so I pushed the question to the back of my mind for the time being.

As the last two ghosts launched into an attack, Morgan and Lloyd stood back-to-back with glowing candles in their hands and yelled, “I banish you!”

The two ghosts flashed into nothingness, while Keir crouched down beside the tunnel opening. “Jas? Everything okay?”

“Yes,” came her muffled reply. “I scrubbed out the marks on the floor, but I’m not sure what the spell was. Maybe some kind of ghost-attracting signal.”

“The ghost is gone?” Keir asked. 

“Yeah… I might need a hand to get out of here, though.” A thud and a curse followed. “I can’t turn around.”

“Hang on.” He took hold of her ankles, tugging hard. Jas’s swearing echoed off the walls when she emerged in a rush and crashed straight into Keir. The vampire recovered, catching his balance against the wall, while Jas sprang to her feet. 

“The ghost was a decoy,” said Jas. “Can’t say I know who crawled into that tunnel to draw the marks, though.” 

“Must have been a really short witch,” said Lloyd. “Or maybe a goblin.”

Jas elbowed him in the ribs. “Oi. We can’t all be six-foot giants.”

Morgan snickered at Jas’s scowl. Even the vampire looked amused, though his expression darkened when he looked at the hole in the wall. “Those were weak spirits, but whoever led them here intended to draw us into a trap. We’d better make sure the person responsible isn’t still lurking around.”

I hoped the marks had simply been witch magic, but only Jas had seen them up close, and no living individuals appeared in the catacombs. After a thorough search, we left via the same stone staircase we’d used to enter. When we reached daylight, I took the lead and let the others’ chatter fade into the background, wishing I’d stayed at home instead. I’d gone on this mission as a favour, but I hadn’t even needed to fully access the Morrigan’s powers to handle the ghosts.

Then again, devouring the souls of the dead would be classified as weird even by necromancer standards. So would devouring souls of the living, come to that. Every day seemed to bring new surprises from the magic I’d borrowed, and it was no wonder the Unseelie Queen had changed her mind about simply killing me outright. My ability to heal would-be-fatal injuries was useful enough for her to request my help to find the Wild Hunt and return them to jail in Winter, but maybe I’d gone too far in requesting the Scourge’s name in return.

The complicating factor was the fact that the Wild Hunt had initially summoned the god of death in order to slaughter him and use his blood to remake the cauldron of resurrection, the former instrument of the Sidhe’s immortality before its destruction at the hands of the once-leader of the Wild Hunt. The Sidhe weren’t taking their newfound mortality well, and part of me wondered if the Unseelie Queen had other reasons for delaying the god’s banishment than her reluctance to sign a deal with a mortal.

As for the humans? Their own plans remained to be seen, including those of the leaders of Edinburgh’s necromancer guild. The guild was solid brick inside and out, with shimmering wards built into the walls, which glowed faintly when our group entered via the twin oak doors. Silence pursued us across the lobby and through the draughty corridors and worn staircases to the upper level. Most of the novices must have been out on missions, though I doubted even the senior necromancers were pursuing the escaped god themselves. 

The Scourge was a relatively unknown entity here in Edinburgh, but a few centuries back, he’d been the beast to whom the Sidhe sacrificed the souls of unfortunate humans every seven years. My ancestor had escaped that fate by inadvertently dooming generations of Lynns to enslavement to the Sidhe, and while my cousin Hazel had broken the curse and set us free, she hadn’t guessed the god might one day return to this realm.

As if conjured up by my thoughts, my cousin’s loud voice echoed down the corridor like a particularly persistent ghost. When Morgan pushed open the door to the archives, it was to reveal both Hazel and her twin sister, Ilsa, standing among the shelves of ancient tomes. The two couldn’t have been more different at first glance. Hazel sported hints of blond in her hair where her sister’s was dark brown, her strong frame muscled from her Gatekeeper’s training and her worn jeans and jacket similar to my own. Ilsa was curvier and dressed in the dark cloak of the guild’s uniform, but having seen her talisman in action, I was pretty sure she’d come out on top in a fight between the pair of them.

“Hey, Holly,” said Hazel. “Had fun on your mission?”

“Not especially, but Jas had it worse.” I stood back against the wall to let Morgan and the others squeeze into the room. “She decided to crawl into a hole to find a ghost pretending to be stuck in the wall.”

“Nobody else volunteered,” Jas said. “Besides, if I hadn’t crawled in there, I wouldn’t have been able to get rid of the marks someone used as a ghost magnet.”

“Witch marks,” Keir added in explanation.

Ilsa shook her head at us. “You found a dodgy hole in the wall, and one of you decided to climb into it? I expected it to be you, Morgan, but honestly.”

“Hey,” Morgan said indignantly. “I thought it was a bad idea.”

“So did I,” said Lloyd. “The ghosts were wimps, but the witch marks the person used to attract them were hidden away where most people wouldn’t have thought to look.” 

“It wasn’t a summoning, was it?” asked Ilsa. 

“No,” I said. “It was a trap for the guild. I’m guessing they assumed novices would show up, because they got a hell of a surprise when they found us instead.”

They certainly hadn’t expected my Morrigan’s powers, but I wasn’t on the guild’s member list. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t supposed to be in this room either. Then again, neither was Hazel. If I had to guess, she was helping Ilsa comb through the books they’d scavenged from their old house to find the identity of Janet Lynn, the person we’d all received an identical text message from a few weeks ago. Given that nearly every person I knew of with the surname Lynn was in this very room, we’d all been at a loss to figure out who Janet was, but since she’d also claimed to be able to help us deal with the Scourge, Ilsa had refused to dismiss her messages as a prank.

“Weird,” said Ilsa. “By the way, the boss has finally got through the backlog of paperwork from all that ghost crap a few weeks ago, so now she’s ready to move onto the latest emergency.” 

For some reason, she was looking at me. “Which means?”

“It means she wants to talk to you, Holly,” Ilsa said. “Specifically, about the Morrigan’s magic and the escaped death god.”

Oh, boy.

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