The Spellcast Gate (Accessory to Magic Book 5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  A Note from the Author

  Connect with Kathrin

  Check Out Kathrin Hutson’s Other Series

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Books by Kathrin Hutson

  ACCESSORY TO MAGIC (Dark Urban Fantasy)

  The Witching Vault

  The Cursed Fae

  The Secret Coin

  The Poisoned Veil

  The Spellcast Gate

  GYENONA’S CHILDREN (Dark Fantasy)

  Daughter of the Drackan

  Mother of the Drackan

  THE UNCLAIMED (NA Dark Fantasy)

  Sanctuary of Dehlyn

  Secret of Dehlyn

  Sacrament of Dehlyn

  BLUE HELIX (LGBTQ Dystopian Sci-Fi)

  Sleepwater Beat

  Sleepwater Static

  THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  COPYRIGHT © 2021 KATHRIN Hutson

  Cover Design by Covers by Christian

  Formatting by Jennifer Laslie

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  ISBN: 978-1-7369573-1-8 (Exquisite Darkness Press)

  Dedication

  To those who think they need to change.

  Be who you are afraid to be.

  Prove them wrong.

  Acknowledgments

  To all the industry professionals who had a part in the creation of this book and in shouting it out to the rooftops, especially Christie Stratos, Mickey Mikkelson, Rebecca Hamilton, Rachel Rawlings, and Christian Bentulan.

  A special shout-out this time to Jennifer Laslie, who’s become something of a hero with her incredible formatting skills and working with an author like me who tends to do everything last-minute. I’m still working on improving that.

  To all my ARC readers, who have devoured Jessica’s story as quickly and intensely as it has devoured me. Their advanced feedback has become the driving force behind my ability to stay focused on this series and move through it with way more inspiration than I ever expected.

  And, as always, I must and forever will thank my husband Henry, who puts up with my one-track writer’s brain and makes it possible for this to be my sole focus. This might just be another beginning for us too.

  Chapter 1

  Jessica Northwood had been to her fair share of parties—mostly the kind where taking pictures would have filled her phone with potentially incriminating evidence. None of them compared to the full-on Xaharí rager the original Order of Laenmúr now threw in the middle of an impossibly lush forest.

  Even if her phone had been useable on this side of the Gateway, in a completely different world where technology as she’d known it was rarer than the actual truth back on Earth, she wouldn’t have had time to take even one picture. Because the second she stepped through the curtain of vines and into the massive clearing, nothing but the present moment mattered anyway.

  The mage who’d just crashed an incredibly private and possibly violent moment between Jessica and her infuriating fae guide in this world now had the floor. Railen spun around in his weird brown robe—apparently the norm for grinning, overly excited mages in this world—and spread his arms. Jessica stopped just inside the clearing when his gaze focused on her, and a handful of the closest Xaharí Laenmúr members looked up from their conversations to study the newcomer in their midst.

  “Xaharí!” the mage shouted. “Our wait is finally at an end!”

  The thunderous rhythm of four massive drums being beaten halfway to smithereens stopped abruptly. So did the conversation from at least a hundred different magicals dressed just as oddly as Railen in leathers, robes, strips of silk, and headdresses decorated with feathers and bones. Some of them were just as scantily clad as the glow-in-the-dark Naruli people living underground, though it seemed a lot more like a party-time fashion statement here.

  All eyes turned toward Jessica now, and she let out a self-conscious chuckle. “That’s a hell of an introduction.”

  The curtain of vines rustled behind her as Leandras stepped through them into the clearing. “It will be once he finishes the second half of it.”

  “Bah!” Railen waved him off. “Everyone knows the Laen’aroth.”

  A burst of laughter echoed through the clearing, startling Jessica so much she stepped backward into the fae man behind her.

  Leandras’ hand settled on her hip as his low chuckle filled her ear. “You’re not getting out of this one so easily.”

  “After everything we’ve been through, you still think I’m trying to find the easy way out?”

  “I suppose that does depend on the situation.”

  Jessica scoffed and started to turn around toward him, but Railen’s next shout drew her attention back to him immediately.

  “Well don’t just stand there! Give our guest her due!”

  “My—whoa!” She burst out laughing when two changelings reached for her, their bare green arms stretching impossibly long before warm fingers wrapped around her wrists and hauled her forward. Jessica stumbled across the sparse undergrowth inside the clearing’s outer ring of trees, and the changeling men grinned like lunatics as they dragged her toward the clearing’s center. She tried to look back over her shoulder. “Leandras—”

  “Has nothing to do with this,” Railen interrupted and stuck both hands on his hips. “At least not from here on out.”

  More laughter filled the clearing, interspersed with yips and sharp cheers. The changelings shoved Jessica toward the brown-robed mage, who spun her around by the shoulders so she stood at his side.

  The smirk on Leandras’ face as he stepped slowly into the clearing and folded his arms made her want to laugh and blast him back through the forest at the same time.

  Then again, she’d have an entire clearing full of witnesses, all of whom stared at her now with wide eyes and growing smiles.

  “Can anyone remember just how long we’ve been anticipating this moment?” Railen called out again.

  “Who cares?” someone shouted, followed by more laughter.

  “Indeed. Nothing else matters anymore, does it?” The mage clapped a hand down on Jessica’s shoulder, and she grimaced through the jolt. “There is still much to do. With the Guardian in our midst, we step that much closer to our purpose!”

  A much louder cheer rose from the gathered magicals, who’d all stopped their celebrat
ing for this ridiculous introduction of a stranger.

  At least, Jessica felt like a stranger. But all the gazes on her made her eerily aware of how much these original Laenmúr seemed to think they knew her.

  Railen laughed and gave her shoulder another excited shake. “Who has come before us?”

  The clearing fell deathly silent.

  Jessica gazed around with wide eyes, and when she looked at Leandras again, he sniggered and shook his head.

  He’d given her absolutely no warning about this part either, just like every other step of their suicidal journey through his homeworld. Somehow, this particular instance felt a lot more authentic and a lot less life-threatening.

  Still, that didn’t mean she had a clue about what was supposed to happen next.

  “That’s your cue,” Railen whispered from the corner of his mouth.

  “My cue to what?” Jessica turned her head to look at him. “You said we could talk after food and rest.”

  “And we will. This is merely for formality’s sake.”

  Another ripple of light chuckles filled the clearing. Someone coughed.

  Great. She was on display here, battered and bruised after barely escaping a second crazed fae wanting to kill the first, who just so happened to be Jessica’s...what? Guide? Friend?

  Something else?

  “State your name,” Railen prompted again.

  Jessica sucked in a sharp breath, cleared her throat, and called out, “Jessica Northwood—”

  “The Guardian!” He clamped his hand down around her wrist and thrust both their arms into the air like she’d just won a boxing match.

  “The Guardian!”

  “The Guardian!”

  “The Guardian!”

  The Laenmúr members took up the cry, a hundred voices shouting out as one. Sporadic cheers and yips rose among the gathering, then the Laenmúr standing behind the four giant drums around a massive but still unlit bonfire in the clearing’s center struck up the beat again with renewed force. The magicals closest to the gigantic pile of sticks, branches, and logs reached toward the dry wood with outstretched hands and shot multi-colored flames into the kindling.

  The bonfire ignited instantly with a sharp crack, blinding sparks, and a high whine like a fuse box about to blow.

  With a hiss, Jessica spun around and shielded her face from the multi-colored glare. Railen let out a hearty laugh and clapped her happily on the back again. “And now the real party begins.”

  “You mean you guys weren’t already throwing one for fun and we just happened to show up?”

  “Oh, we’ve been expecting you for quite some time, Jessica. If it’s food and rest you want, we have plenty of both.” The mage snorted and shook his head. “Well, you may have to wait a bit for the latter.”

  “What?” She turned back toward him, but he had already disappeared within the crowd of swirling, leaping bodies now dancing around the magical bonfire like their lives depended on it.

  They kind of did, right?

  Because Jessica was the Guardian. She’d come through the Gateway with Leandras Vilafor the Laen’aroth. They’d gathered two out of three artifacts the damn fae needed for a final spell he still hadn’t told her anything about. They’d almost been eaten, buried alive, crushed, eviscerated, and blown to pieces. Leandras actually had died and now seemed to think his return to the land of the living was Jessica’s doing.

  And all these original Laenmúr magicals who hadn’t crossed through the Gateway to the safety and secrecy of Earth however long ago seemed to think she was some kind of savior.

  This wasn’t in any way part of the plan.

  Not like Jessica had had much of a plan to begin with, had she?

  More high-pitched whoops and cheers filled the clearing. The drums pounded away from the four corners around the blazing bonfire. Bodies swirled around and around, beads and bells and bones clacked and jangled, and someone apparently thought now was a good time to start playing a ridiculously upbeat forest flute.

  If the bank were here with her now, it would have made a joke about that one too.

  Something about jazz flute, probably.

  Jessica snorted and spun quickly around again, trying to find one of the only two faces in this place she recognized.

  Railen was nowhere to be seen.

  She caught a fleeting glimpse of Leandras standing with a group of magicals passing around a hollowed-out guard and drinking from it. His glowing silver gaze caught hers, and he flashed her that feral grin as he raised the gourd in her direction and drank from it.

  Then he also disappeared as the blur of dancers swept Jessica up in their midst.

  Sure. Leandras could stand there all night, laughing at her and drinking whatever these party-drunk Laenmúr felt like sharing with their guests. And Jessica couldn’t even take two steps without one of the dancers jostling her, grabbing her for a quick spin, or ducking in front of her to offer swift, playful bows.

  Not her idea of a decent rest at all.

  And she was starving.

  When the next dancer twirled in front of her—an almost completely naked troll who thought a headdress of bones and feathers was enough of an accessory to go with the tiny strip of cloth leaving nothing to the imagination—Jessica barked out a laugh. She stopped trying to extract herself from the whirling circle of dancing magicals and folded her arms instead.

  “What’s a Guardian gotta do to get something to eat around here?” she muttered under her breath. Apparently, it wasn’t muttered quietly enough to escape at least one dancer’s attention.

  An elf woman with pitch-black hair and luminous green eyes so bright they were almost yellow spun in a tight circle toward Jessica, her long hair twirling around her with the ends of the silk ribbons and thin strands of tiny glinting beads draped around her body. Jessica jerked her head away from the elf’s helicopter hair and laughed.

  When the woman stopped spinning, she leaned toward Jessica with a wide grin. “Absolutely nothing.”

  “What?”

  “Here, the Guardian wants for nothing.” The elf took both of Jessica’s hands, looked her up and down, and raised an eyebrow. “Not even dancing.”

  “Oh, no.” Jessica snorted and tried to pull her hands away, but the woman just wouldn’t let go. “I don’t dance.”

  “Not even tonight?” The elf woman sidled closer, swinging her hips and eyeing the Guardian with the same coy smile Jessica hadn’t seen since her four-month stint of nightly clubbing in downtown Denver with Mel and Rufus.

  Despite how weird it was to see that look coming from a true Xaharí magical who hadn’t stepped foot on Earth once—and who was probably a bajillion years old like Leandras—Jessica smirked and squeezed the elf woman’s hands. “Maybe later.”

  The air beside them shimmered with a silver blur, then a ridiculously skinny Umbál man with a shock of bright red hair materialized at the elf woman’s side. “Or maybe after she’s had a round of darkwine, eh?”

  “Uh...probably not.” Jessica blinked quickly and looked the Umbál up and down. At least this Laenmúr had decided to wear pants, though his feet were bare in the dirt like all the other dancers’ and his pale, shirtless chest practically glowed in the dark beside the multi-colored flames of the bonfire. “I don’t drink, either.”

  “You will tonight,” the elf woman crooned.

  A hulking magical unlike any Jessica had seen before spun toward them around the fire; the guy had to be at least seven feet tall and was covered in shaggy brown hair like some kind of bipedal buffalo—complete with two huge horns bursting from his forehead and curving inward. He laughed and tugged on one of the loose ribbons draped around the elf woman’s shoulders. “Give the Guardian some time, Kalili. She’s only just arrived.”

  “We’ve given nothing but time.” Kalili grinned at the beast-man, though there was a hint of irritation in the thinness of the elf woman’s smile. “And tonight, we have all the time in the world.”

  “Then an
other few hours won’t make much difference at all, eh?” The buffalo dude snorted through his strangely bovine nose, then thrust one leg forward in the dirt—a leg that ended in an honest-to-god hoof instead of a foot—and offered Jessica a low bow. “I heard the Guardian wishes to take a meal.”

  “Um...” Jessica didn’t know whether to laugh at the immensely hairy magical or take her chances trying to slip through the circle of yipping, leaping, spinning dancers on her own. “I could definitely eat, yeah.”

  “Then follow me.”

  “Who made you her keeper?” the elf woman asked as she turned toward the buffalo dude and spread her lithe arms.

  His bellowing laughter cut through the roar of the crackling flames and the thunderous rhythm of the drums. “Better luck next time, darlische.”

  “So dance with me, Kalili.” The redheaded Umbál snatched up the elf woman by the hand and dragged her away into the dancing.

  Kalili’s other hand tightened briefly around Jessica’s fingers as she was pulled away into the celebration. “Come find me, Guardian.”

  Then she and the Umbál disappeared into the chaos of so many twirling bodies and leaping shadows.

  The buffalo dude chuckled and shook his head. “Some of us are more eager than others to see our long wait come to an end.”

  Jessica shot him a crooked smile. “What’s she waiting for?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” With another snort, the hairy magical turned away, pounded a gigantic fist against his chest, and bellowed, “Everybody move!”

  The drummers didn’t miss a literal or figurative beat despite the abrupt command, and the dancers cheered and spun faster, laughing and pulling each other away from the buffalo dude’s path. He clomped forward, his two massive hooves sending up thick clouds of churning dust as he headed toward the other side of the clearing.

  Jessica ducked the outstretched hands of another woman spinning way too quickly to make out much more than the blurry shape of her flying limbs.