The Iron Seal

by J. M. Briggs

  “That wasn’t your fault,” Avani said. “You had to defend yourselves. It wasn’t like you went hunting them down.”

  “No, we didn’t.” Bran nodded and glanced up at the house, towards Alex’s dark window. “But it still stings. And the Fae… a lot of them still hate us for it.”

  “Timothy doesn’t.”

  “He doesn’t.” Chuckling, Bran shook his head. “Timothy had made it into Alex’s dorm room and cut her face. She released him from the spell pretty much by accident, but he was able to provide information. Alex tried to save as many of the Fae under the spell as she could for Timothy’s sake.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Yeah, but not good enough. I don’t know. It still bothers me. I’m not sure what to do with it in my head. Most of the time, I’m still not even sure about what magic is or how to best use it.”

  “But you were taught by the Grand Mages!”

  “Merlin and Morgana are human, well, okay they’re half human, and pretty good teachers, but a lot has been happening in Ravenslake over the last two years. Things that even they weren’t prepared for. All of us have just been doing the best we can, and if that means trying to have some mercy then that’s what we do.” Staring up at the moon, Bran inwardly grumbled at his sudden brooding. “It makes the rest of it a bit easier.”

  Avani didn’t say anything. He didn’t expect her to. He checked the house again. Despite the nice temperature of the night air, everyone’s windows were shut tight. The front and back porch lights were on, and Bran expected that they probably always would be at night. Then a high-pitched giggle came out of the trees. Tensing, Bran flexed his fingers and looked around. He couldn’t see anything in the backyard. The wind was rustling nearby trees, and the giggle was gone. Glancing towards Avani, he found her frowning and scanning the trees. At least that suggested that he wasn’t crazy.

  Then there was a rush of giggling — multiple high-pitched voices echoing from the forest. They were familiar. Heart pounding, Bran pulled on his magic, feeling it flash to life. As the yellow sparks poured from his fingertips and surrounded his hands in a golden glow, he heard the giggling increase.

  “Shit!” Bran glanced up towards the windows. The others were asleep, and he didn’t dare reach for his phone to send a text. “Wake up!” he shouted. The neighbors weren’t too close, so hopefully the police wouldn’t be called. “Red Caps! Alex! Aiden! Nicki! Get up!”

  There was no more time for shouting warnings. Red Caps came jumping out of the tree line, rushing across the grass and leaping onto the fence. The small gray-colored creatures all wore bright red caps. Mythology said the hats were dyed with human blood, and as their long fingernails dug into the wooden fence, Bran completely believed it.

  He waved his hands. Yellow bolts formed out of the sparks and blasted forward. The first struck a Red Cap and sent it flying back off of the top of the fence. More hit the Red Caps even as they tried to rush out of the way. It was like a warped carnival game. Small shrieks escaped the Red Caps, but Bran couldn’t see them beyond the fence to confirm they were dead. More were coming, now on the lawn of the backyard.

  He heard more noise around the front of the house and tensed. Resisting the urge to turn, he sent a wave of yellow energy rippling across the yard. Red Caps squealed and darted out of the way, trying to climb up the fence and the one large tree in the yard. Avani was chanting something. He didn’t know how fast her magic could work but wasn’t going to risk it. Moving over, he placed himself between her and the Red Caps, eyeing the advancing line.

  Crashes from inside caught Bran’s attention. He hoped it was the others trying to get dressed and come outside, but he wasn’t sure. Red Caps were pouring into the yard, over two dozen at least, and all with sharp teeth and claws. A few were carrying knives. At least there were no guns in sight. Light spread out around Avani’s feet, forming a small circle around her. Her hands dropped to her sides and Avani’s fingertips moved graceful as if spelling out words. Unfamiliar symbols blossomed into view around her feet, eclipsing the soft glow of the circle. It was exactly what he’d once assumed magic would look like, and he almost smiled.

  A Red Cap snarled and rushed ahead of the others only to be suddenly stopped in the air. The outer ring of light flashed, and the creature couldn’t move. Its muscles twitched, but it was in some sort of stasis. Shocked, Bran turned to look at her. The circle was bright and spread out far enough to protect him, but sweat was already gathering on Avani’s brow. Her eyes were closed in concentration, and there was a slight quiver in her hands. Useful, but it took a lot out of her. Swinging back around, he sent yellow bolts shooting into the crowd of Red Caps.

  Several went down with sharp cries. More pressed on, spreading out and hissing. He sent out more bolts. The ring of light vanished, and there was a sigh behind him from Avani. Turning, he caught sight of her slumping against the side of the house. She was awake but unsteady. Bran started to move towards her. He stopped as he realized the Red Caps were closing in.

  One of the Red Caps lunged, sharp needle-like teeth revealed in the low light coming from the porch. Bran shoved his hand forward. A wave of yellow sparks swept up the Red Cap and threw it back. Exhaling slowly, Bran focused his attention on the pulse of magic beneath his feet and the warmth in his chest. His father’s dog tags shifted against his skin under his shirt, and he braced himself for the next wave of attackers.

  Lightning arced through the air and hit the first Red Cap in the hoard. It shrieked and convulsed as it tried and failed to run. His eyes almost closed in relief. Alex was here. More were coming though, flanking the house. Looking towards the front, Bran grinned as small bolts of red and blue shot past him. He was surprised that the others had cleared the rest, but grateful for the reinforcements. Red Caps were falling all over the place, screaming and trying to grab each other. Whatever military precision they’d had was gone, and he moved back.

  Then the sky above them began to rumble. Ozone hit his nose and an electric jolt traveled across his skin. Bran’s heart jumped. Mjǫllnir. Was she using Mjǫllnir in their backyard? Nicki screamed a warning. Bran slammed his eyes closed and reached for Avani. A deafening crack rattled his bones and the ground shook. The bright light faded quickly, and the back of his eyelids returned to black.

  Opening his eyes slowly, Bran scanned the yard. There were still a few Red Caps left, running for the fence and shouting to each other. For a moment he hesitated, but raised his right hand and formed more yellow bolts. As he released them, more blue and red bolts sailed past to strike down the Red Caps. He hadn’t been the only one unprepared to let them get away. It was almost comforting.

  His eyes dropped to a smoldering spot in the lawn. There were dark lines that looked like more lightning stretched out from the black point of impact. Bran had read about Lichtenberg figures in the past but had never known that they could be so clear on the ground. The strike had burned the grass as the earth absorbed the electricity. It was almost beautiful. The air tasted of ozone even as the rumbling overhead eased. A weatherman somewhere was about to start hating Ravenslake, Oregon.

  “That might have been overkill,” Aiden said, breaking the heavy silence.

  “Warnings, Alex,” Nicki said firmly. “Remember friendly fire warnings. Just shout Mjǫllnir or something so we can at least close our eyes.”

  There was grass on fire in the center of their yard and a dark, scorched ring around it. Nicki stepped forward calmly and flicked her wrist. Her blue sparks turned into a bubble of water hanging in the air. Giggling in pleasure, she looked over her shoulder at Avani. Bran raised an eyebrow as Avani smiled at the display just before Nicki snapped her fingers. The bubble fell to the ground and released the water to extinguish the flames with a splash. Shaking his head, he felt dizzy from the rush of amusement so suddenly after the worry and fear.

  “Red Caps in our new backyard,” Alex said. “I don’t think it was overkill.” Then she looked a touch sheepish. “But, yeah, I’ll
warn you in the future before calling down a lightning bolt.”

  “Well,” Aiden sighed, “this just proves that we need some kind of security system.”

  “I’ll start working on a plan right away,” Avani said. Her smile had faded, and she was watching the dusty remains of the Red Caps vanish on the wind. Bran wondered if she regretted coming to Ravenslake yet or not. He didn’t ask.

  9

  Shadows and Strangers

  Podlasie Province, Poland 983 C.E.

  The village was small but it was the hub of activity. Farmers like him brought in their goods and traded for the items and processed goods that they needed. Today he didn’t have much in the way of food, but the chopped wood and a small bag of cooked wildflower seeds had been enough to get him another blanket and some leather. Even with the creatures away from the house, Slavko never seemed to be warm enough nowadays.

  The last days of summer hadn’t brought any relief, and now into the harvest season he worried about what little food that was still growing. Going into the forest almost every day had yielded more plants and roots to dry and bake, but he’d glimpsed the shadows over and over. Their cold was always sharp and overwhelming. When winter got here, they would surely be unbearable.

  “I’ve seen one of those creatures twice now!” Someone shouted. There were too many people huddled together for Dobiemir to be sure who was talking. “They leave cold in their wake. They’re some sort of evil spirits and are destroying the harvest!”

  He looked towards the group that had gathered around the missionary. The man was pale and seemed frightened even as he listened to them. He was tempted to join them. Shouting out his worries and fears might be enough to help him feel a little better. But the itch to return home in case more of the creatures showed up kept him focused.

  “They’re black,” someone cried. “With glowing green eyes. They’re killing off the harvest. The animals are afraid of them. It won’t be long before they start killing!”

  “Please, calm down,” the missionary said.

  “Michael, this is your fault! You and that religion of yours! You’ve angered the gods and the spirits of the forest. They’re punishing us.”

  There was a round of agreement. “It’s almost time for the harvest!” another voice shouted. “All summer the crops have been failing, and now there’s almost nothing. Winter will be here soon!”

  He stopped to listen despite wanting to get home. Unease stirred in his chest, and he found himself worrying for Michael. He took a small step towards the mob and the missionary who was trying to reassure them that God still cared. Passages from Michael’s Holy Book followed, which calmed some but increased the anger of others.

  “Dobiemir!”

  Turning, he found himself being approached by Emond. Walking away from Michael and the crowd, he met his neighbor halfway amongst the livestock and people trading their goods. He couldn’t help but notice that Emond had lost a little weight, and the man hadn’t had much extra to lose. Looking past Emond, he noted with relief that two of the man’s children still looked healthy as they secured some wrapped bundles onto a goat’s back.

  “Emond, good to see you,” he greeted. “Is the family well?”

  “We can’t complain,” Emond said. He almost smiled. “There were a few sniffles not long ago, but thankfully they have passed without any real illness. How is Slavko?” Emond asked. He glanced around for any sign of the boy. “Is he here?”

  “No, he’s in bed at home,” Dobiemir answered. “He’s not doing any better.” There was more he wanted to say, but the words were too difficult to form.

  “You left him alone, with those creatures?” Emond’s eyes were wide, and shock took over his face. “Are you-” Then he stopped himself and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know you would not have if it could have been avoided.”

  Dobiemir nodded, his mouth too dry to speak, and looked around at the market crowd. Everyone was tense and worried, with furrows between their brows and a defeated slump to their shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that he hadn’t been the only one to see the strange creatures.

  “Have you seen them?” he asked Emond.

  “Yes, only one though. It was getting dark, and something was in the fields. I started to investigate, but... it got so cold. Dobiemir, it was horrible, and then it looked at me. Those eyes are unnatural.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’ve seen them too. Several times now. A few in the forest and once by the house. In the forest, it attacked me.”

  “Attacked you?” Emond’s eyes widened further. “That’s- I haven’t heard that from anyone else. How did you escape? Or did you have to fight it?”

  “No, I climbed up a tree,” he admitted. “It lost interest.”

  “I haven’t gone near the forest in weeks,” Emond said. Shaking his head, he shuddered at the idea. “Knowing that they’re out there. It’s been hard to leave the house just to tend the fields.”

  “How are your fields doing?”

  “Not good, but not as bad as others.” Emond frowned. “You’re closer to the forest than most. People out that way seem to have it the worst. That’s probably why you’ve seen so many. Are they all the same?”

  “I don’t think so.” Dobiemir frowned and tried to remember the last one he’d seen. As soon as he’d caught sight of it in the forest, he’d climbed a tree and waited until it passed. “They all seem a bit different.”

  “And you’re still going into the forest?”

  “Have to collect enough plants to feed the animals,” Dobiemir said. “I’ve already slaughtered one goat and smoked the meat for winter. I need to be able to keep a few alive through winter.”

  “I understand, but you’re braver than I am. I haven’t been into the forest since I first heard the rumors. The children have been gathering closer to home. It isn’t as much as we’d get in the forest, but we’ll get through.”

  “Good, I’m glad to hear it,” Dobiemir said. “It seems that everyone is feeling the effects now.”

  “Yes,” Emond said. “I’m almost grateful that it isn’t just us. Then I feel guilty for my relief.”

  Dobiemir reached out and gripped Emond’s shoulder. He understood. He understood all too well, but envy for the good fortune of others was what haunted him. With Slavko ill, he found himself desperately wishing for Lyubov back, even if their child wasn’t. They’d lost a son and a daughter before. Slavko had been their survivor, and now…

  Shaking off the thoughts, he coughed lightly and turned back to check on their local missionary. Michael was backing away from the crowd. A nagging little voice told him to intervene and make sure that things didn’t turn violent, but the angry part of him didn’t care. Besides, two men that he recognized as more devoted converts had moved to flank Michael. The missionary seemed a little more confident and calmer with them there.

  “This isn’t a good time for missionaries,” Emond said softly. “Miloslava took an offering out a few nights ago. She’s hoping to honor and appease whatever has sent the shadows. Apparently a few households have done so.”

  “Well, not everyone is Christian,” Dobiemir said. “Do you think that it is an angry god?”

  “What else could it be?” Emond shivered and looked towards their farms. “They aren’t animals of flesh and blood. Of that much I’m certain. They leave tracks in the earth, but no fur, no waste, and aren’t afraid of us.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “I’m not sure what to think,” Dobiemir said. “They don’t seem violent… many have seen them and no one has been killed. I’m not sure what that means: maybe they are just scouts or are looking for something.”

  “Or they’re starving us by killing the harvest until we all turn back to their god.”

  Giving Emond a sharp look, Dobiemir tried to ignore the twisting in his gut. That sort of plan would align with some of the stories he’d been told. Emond seemed to understand his sudden silence
and nodded to him before moving off to join his family. Dobiemir inhaled slowly to calm his heart and waited for the nausea to pass. He spotted movement to his right and glanced that way to reassure himself.

  There was a strange man and a woman off to the side. They both wore long gray cloaks despite the lack of an autumn chill. He could see only a little of their faces. Both were watching the shouting crowd with thoughtful and serious frowns. A long brown braid hung over the woman’s shoulder while the man had gray curly hair. He was sure that he’d never seen them before and they rarely got visitors in their small village.

  Still, it wasn’t his concern. He had what he’d come for, and it was time to head home. Hoisting the roll of leather onto his back and securing the blanket beneath his arm, Dobiemir set off on the first road towards home. The voices of the villagers echoed behind him, and he wondered if the noise would keep the shadows away. To the west the sun was sinking toward the horizon. The days were growing shorter. He’d need to cut far more wood than usual for this winter if the shadows remained in the area. Surely, light and warmth would keep them away and his son safe.