The Iron Hammer

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The Iron Hammer Page 4

by J. M. Briggs


  So she stayed silent after polishing off half of a sandwich, turning over the problem and trying to sort it out. Of course, she was worried about Arthur. There was a permanent knot in her gut that she knew would be there until he was dead. She wasn’t sure who would kill him, but Morgana and Nicki were both certainly contenders alongside her. No that wasn’t it, she conceded with a soft sigh. The odd sense that she was forgetting something teamed with worry over what Arthur and the Queen were up to now that his last attack had been such a failure.

  The ringing of a phone cut into her deep thoughts making her flinch. It took her a moment to realize that everyone was looking towards her. After another moment she recognized the ringtone as one of hers and the sound as coming from her pocket. Alex pulled out her phone with an apologetic look. Looking down, Alex sighed in relief when Professor Yates’ name appeared on the phone. Arthur hadn’t called her since his last attack on Ravenslake and while Alex was dreading it, she knew it was only a matter of time. She stood up and nodded to the others, moving into the kitchen of the small house before answering.

  “Hello Merlin,” Alex greeted only to be met by fast breathing. “Are you okay?”

  “Out of breath,” the older mage told her. “Alex, listen to me, the Iron Hammer is gone.”

  “What?” Alex asked in disbelief. “I mean… are you sure?” She could feel her own heart pounding and a nervous sweat beginning to break out on her forehead. “Merlin-”

  “I’m sorry, but yes the Iron Hammer is gone,” Merlin told her with a quiver of resignation in his voice. “I’m going through the tunnels just to make sure, but I’m seeing some signs that someone has been here recently.”

  “Okay, how recently are we talking?” Alex gripped the edge of the counter with her free hand in an attempt to stay calm. “I mean centuries or-”

  “Not that long ago, but the tunnel entrance had been filled in with rocks and rubble so I’d say at least fifty years. Maybe less if a local filled it in.”

  “Would anyone in the area have known what was down there?” Alex was a bit lightheaded as she struggled to control her breathing. “Any local myths?”

  “I’m checking into that,” Merlin said. “But I will not be returning with the Iron Hammer I’m afraid. You and the others need to return to Ravenslake quickly. Stay near Morgana and keep practicing your magic.”

  “What are you going to do?” Alex asked frantically, unconcerned with her volume. “Merlin, what is your plan?”

  “As I said I will check on the local myths and try to contact the Norse Old Ones and see if they are aware of anything. I suspect that at least one of them is waking up.”

  “Can we do anything?”

  “No, Alex,” Merlin said. Bran came to the doorway of the kitchen with a frown. Alex could see Aiden and Nicki behind him looking similarly worried. “Just return to Ravenslake. I’ll be in touch. Stay safe.”

  Then he hung up on her as Alex was trying to come up with an argument. Pulling the phone away from her ear, Alex glared at it. “Wise old advisor my ass,” she muttered.

  “Alex?” Nicki called, shifting next to her and eyeing the phone. “Bad news?”

  “The Iron Hammer is missing,” Alex forced out before nervously rolling her lips as her stomach churned and a terrible ache settled into it. “Merlin went to its resting place, but it was gone. Someone took it, he thought in the last fifty years or so,” Alex explained in a frantic rush.

  Alex leaned against the counter and placed her forehead against the cabinet above. Her knees were shaking and there was a building pressure in her chest that was making it hard to breathe. Sucking in some air, Alex felt a cold sweat trickling down her spine and shuddered as Merlin’s words echoed in her head. The Iron Hammer was gone. It was supposed to be safe and hidden and yet it was gone. Maybe Merlin would find it, maybe he wouldn’t or maybe Arthur had already beaten them to it despite Merlin’s thoughts on the timeline. Or maybe he was just trying to make her feel better.

  “I think she’s having a panic attack!” Bran hissed just before a pair of arms encircled her waist helping to keep her upright. “Easy, Alex.”

  “Shit!” Nicki cursed. “What do we do?”

  “Bran?” Jinsung’s voice called. “Is everything alright in there?” Alex managed to turn her face just enough to see the woman coming into view.

  “Mom, please,” Bran begged as he shifted between his mother and Alex. “Just give us a few minutes. Alex is just feeling overwhelmed and she doesn’t know you well.”

  “Overwhelmed?” Jinsung repeated with concern. “Bran, what-”

  “Just some bad news on classes,” Nicki lied. “Give us a second.”

  She lost track of things for a moment as her throat tried to close up once again. Vaguely, Alex was aware of being turned so she was no longer facing the cabinets. Bran’s face swam in front of her and Alex blinked her eyes to clear the tears she realized had gathered.

  “Easy, Alex.” Bran wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “The Sídhe don’t have the Iron Hammer.”

  “How can you be sure of that?” Her lips were so dry they felt ready to crack.

  “If the Iron Hammer can truly break the hold of magic then they would have already tried to use them against the Iron Gates,” Bran said. “Instead Arthur and the Queen focused on Cathanáil.”

  “Exactly, Alex,” Nicki agreed. “I doubt that the Sídhe have it. Merlin said that it’s been gone for a while and if they had it then they would have used it to break the Iron Gates by now, right?”

  “I suppose so.” The words penetrated the panicked haze trying to keep its claws in her. She couldn’t imagine Arthur and the Queen not using the Iron Hammer if they had it. “But then where is it?” she demanded as another spike of fear rolled over her.

  “Maybe archeologists found it,” Bran offered as he extended a glass of water to her. “Or locals found the cave. It might be in someone’s barn or in a chest in someone’s attic. It’s too early to tell, but we need to stay calm.”

  “That’s possible.” Nicki squeezed her shoulder. “We found the Chalice after all and even Merlin had gone looking for that artifact.”

  “And we found a dragon,” Bran added with a smile.

  “Just rub it in why don’t you,” Aiden pouted, giving them all a glare. “Tease the guy who was stuck in a coma.”

  Alex managed a smile at the words and a soft chuckle escaped her. “If you hadn’t been in a coma we wouldn’t have gone after the Chalice.” She brought the glass to her lips and taking a sip of the water. “Okay,” said a moment later. “I’m okay.” She exhaled slowly and straightened up. “You’re probably right. Merlin will find it.”

  “And even if he doesn’t we know that you and Bran can do the tag team magical item tracking trick,” Nicki reminded her.

  “Convenient that,” Bran said. “Speaking of which, we should see if we can find Cathanáil on the equinox. We’ve figured out how to work together on that.”

  “Maybe,” was all Alex could offer in reply as her stomach tightened at the idea. The last time she’d teamed up with Bran like that she’d discovered the Iron Chain which had been created from suffering and only added to the power of their enemies. She wasn’t sure that she was ready for whatever else she might find in her past. “We’ll see what happens with the Iron Hammer first.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” Aiden asked his. “You still don’t look so good.”

  “Yeah I’m fine, bit embarrassed,” Alex assured them with another forced smile. “Just wasn’t ready for that. Sorry to worry you.”

  “Nicki, Aiden,” Bran called softly. “You go and reassure Lance, Jenny, and my mom that Alex is okay.”

  “Should we tell them-”

  “No, don’t freak my mom out. We’ll tell Jenny and Lance later.”

  Then Bran was moving her away from the counter and to the small breakfast table in the corner of the kitchen. It was right next to a window that looked out into the small yard between the house and
the bakery. Looking outside, Alex smiled at the sight of the green grass and the small path made of large flat stones that cut through the yard and led to the back door of the bakery.

  “This is a nice house,” Alex told him, earning a concerned look in return.

  “You didn’t hit your head did you?” Bran asked, sounding like he was only half teasing.

  Giving him a look in response, Alex raised the glass again in a silent toast before draining the last of it. The worried and tight expression didn’t leave Bran’s face and made Alex want to say something, but she couldn’t find any words. Instead, she stood up and started moving back towards the door.

  “Alex,” Bran said in a low voice as he caught her arm. “I know what a panic attack looks like. Mom had enough of them after Dad’s death so…” he trailed off and shook his head for a moment. “Look if you want to talk then we’re here for you, but really try not to worry. Merlin will find the Iron Hammer and with luck, by spring equinox we’ll have struck a literal blow for our side.”

  Holding in a sigh, Alex tried to adopt the more optimistic views of her friends. They had a point, they’d found the lost Iron Chalice so how hard could it be to find the Iron Hammer? Yet the cold sense of dread in her stomach remained as if someone had camped out on her grave, but Alex still had no idea of the source of the foreboding. Still, she offered Bran a small smile and a nod. Then she headed back into the living room before Jinsung Fisher could become too suspicious.

  5

  Destination of Dreams

  A stench of human waste, sweat, and salt washed over her, crashing down like a tidal wave and making her knees shake. Alex’s lungs constricted as revulsion overwhelmed even the need to breathe. Even worse was that she instantly knew where she was and that realization was enough to make her feel physically ill. And yet her body was stiff and completely unaffected by her emotions or physical revulsion. Even as she sought to back away, close her eyes and cover her nose she remained held in place by a body that was not her own.

  She knew what was happening and was powerless to fight against it. The memories had pulled her back in, trapping her inside a terrible nightmare, but she did not have the benefit of Bran’s magic to help her take control. Nevertheless, Alex desperately pulled at the flicker of magic she could still feel in her chest. There was a pitiful flare in response instead of the rush of power that she needed. Still, she let it flow through her and tried to order the limbs to obey her. Tried to make herself blink on her own command, but there was nothing.

  Beneath her, the wooden floor was shifting up and down. Thankfully her eyes closed a moment later as a large hand came up to rub her eyes as if seeking to banish a headache. She inhaled deeply against her will as the hand dropped back to her side. The stink hit her again along with the confirmation that she was back on the ship. That terrible ship that she’d hoped never to see again in any dream or memory. Before her were racks of wooden shelves built into the sides of the hold. Half hidden in the shadows were hundreds of Africans crammed into the tiny spaces between the wooden planks. Long clinking chains bound them all to one long chain running down the center of the hold. Alex could see a soft black shimmer of magic running across the chain. Her stomach tightened at the sight. That magic was binding the… slaves to the will of their master, to the captain of the ship. Her previous, horrible life that Alex wished she could forget.

  “Captain Allard,” a voice called before the ship jolted sharply. “The storm-”

  “I know!” Alex’s lips moved but a much deeper voice came forth.

  She turned without any control over the body and began to lurch up the small stairs leading from the hold. The sky above was dark and stormy with flashes of lightning illuminating the horizon. She hauled herself up onto the deck as members of the crew shifted back as if there was a dark aura around her that they dared not touch. Fear hung in the air around them and whatever relief Alex felt about being out of the hold was almost eclipsed by the discomfort those looks created. They didn’t linger around her and resumed their rush to secure the ship’s rigging and brace for the storm around them.

  Lightning flashed as she strode across the slippery deck. The ship churned on the ocean, but her body didn’t stop moving. Cuthbert Allard just kept moving confidently as if he expected the world to just bow to his whims. Anger and shame warred in Alex as her too large hand griped the rail of the stairs. He hauled himself up towards the helm where two sailors were holding tight to the wheel and keeping watch.

  She-he- they did not stop moving. Alex was uncertain of how to think of Captain Cuthbert Allard while caught in his memories. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the knowledge or the burden of reincarnation. She was pulled back to the matter at hand as Allard pulled open the door to his cabin and stomped inside to escape the storm. They shrugged out of their dripping coat as another roll of thunder echoed beyond the window on the far side of the small room.

  Sitting down at the desk, a large masculine hand reached for a cabinet stuffed in a corner below the chair. They pulled out a bottle with a heavy cork that the Captain opened easily. The liquor burned her throat on the way down even as she felt an alien rush of satisfaction that she knew wasn’t her own. Then they leaned back in the uncomfortable chair with a satisfied sigh that made Alex want to strike out to hit something, preferably Allard’s face even if she would share the pain.

  His eyes slid closed leaving Alex in darkness, but she could still hear the storm churning outside and wondered how the man could be so calm. She could hear the sailors, but a strange calm seemed to have fallen over the ship leaving Alex feeling uneasy. An odd wave of exhaustion rolled over her despite her racing mind and Alex was being pulled under like a strong wave had a hold of her.

  The sting of the wind on her cheeks pulled her back sharply, but not to a familiar scene. Weapons, pots, and tools were sailing through the air around her, a fierce wind howling as magic pulsed around her. There were shouts and screams. She was at a loss for what was happening. The smell of salt had been replaced with smoke. Alex began to look around in surprise and confusion only to find a strangely familiar landscape with rocky hillsides before her. Then a sharp burning in her side forced the air from her lungs and her whole body trembled.

  “I’m actually sorry that your wife ran off and left you,” a familiar voice said, the words almost lost in the wind and the haze of pain.

  A hand moved to her side and she felt coarse fabric now moistened with a warm liquid that began to seep out over her fingers. The sense of familiarity became sharp as a knife and for an instant, Alex thought she might be back on the lakeside. But she wasn’t, this was someplace and sometime else. That thought frantically clawed its way past the rising panic, reassuring her that this had to be another dream and she’d be alright when it was over.

  Turning her head, Alex found a man with long dark hair bound up in a knot. Dark eyes stared at her while the lips curled into a smirk. Alex could do nothing but stare at him even as his mouth kept moving. The words were lost on her as the agony in her side spread further and further through her body.

  “Medraut?” The name escaped her lips without a thought except the voice was not her own.

  Medraut kept talking, but Alex was unable to fully grasp the words. The pain in her side and the glimmer of magic across the ground around her was too distracting. Her mind raced to catch up. If this was Medraut then this was a memory of Arto, the first Iron Soul. As Medraut was speaking, Alex was studying the arrogant smirking man before them. His features were different from Arthur’s. That was to expected, Arthur would have nothing in common genetically with his prior life. And yet Alex could clearly see him looking back at her. Those brown eyes were strangely similar to Arthur’s blue ones when he’d been gloating above her. Perhaps just as Jenny and Lance had been caught in repeating events there was a part of Medraut in Arthur that just couldn’t help himself.

  Then Medraut turned away and bent to pick up a sword discarded on the ground. Alex recognized it
. Medraut’s finger’s brushed over Cathanáil’s hilt and white magic burst forth from the blade, striking Medraut. He was thrown back with a shriek of pain as the magic covered him with lightning. When he didn’t move, Alex hoped he was dead even as their body convulsed in pain.

  Blood trickled from her side, but she didn’t stop moving. Everything was aching and cold. It took her right back to that lakeside when Arthur had stabbed her with Cathanáil. Swallowing, she desperately fought back the strange thirst that was overtaking even the pain as her blood trickled away.

 

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