The Iron Seal

by J. M. Briggs

  For a moment the familiar stone tunnels of the Sídhe stretched out in front of her. Alex swallowed as the memory pressed down. She wondered how the children she’d saved were now. Strange to think that it hadn’t been that long ago, and yet it felt like decades. Walking forward slowly, Alex eyed the neatly fit stones that indicated she was deep in the tunnels. Were they still intact like this beyond the Iron Gates, or had the magic of the Iron Realm ripped them down?

  The tunnels began to fade, the clear lines of the cut stone and their textures turning to smoke. It all blurred together into an empty gray backdrop. People appeared in the distance and walked toward her, some smiling and greeting her with old names and others frowning sadly. Her emotional reaction to seeing the faces of long-gone loved ones had dimmed. She’d had these dreams too often now for them to cause more than a bittersweet pang.

  Around her the scenery changed once again, turning into a dark stormy sky. A ship’s wheel appeared before her, and a mast and riggings beyond it. Back on the ship then. Alex sighed and steeled herself for the smell that was going to come. The ship rocked and rolled on the waves beneath her feet, but even this faded quickly. Nothing was tangible. She was just drifting through an odd mixture of memories in her subconscious. This wasn’t helpful.

  “I’m dreaming,” Alex said out loud. The words echoed around her. She braced herself, ready to have faces appear and call to her in different names. “This is just a dream. If you want to show me something useful that would be better.”

  Around her, the cloudy gray background shifted. Closing her eyes, she inhaled slowly. In her chest was a flicker of magic. It rose slowly and danced over her skin. Alex didn’t know if she was just imagining the feeling or if she was really using her magic. But this was a dream, and she wanted control. Walking through sad memories wasn’t going to help.

  Her magic hummed in response. It was comforting, reminding her that she had power here. For a moment Alex was left floundering in the mists. What should she do now? What was the next step? Dreams could be useful. After all, she’d seen her future in dreams, but her past wasn’t what she needed to know more about right now.

  “I want to see…” she trailed off. Swallowing, she ignored the request to see her brothers. Her gut told her that this was more than a normal dream. Alex couldn’t remember the last time that she’d had a simple dream. If she used magic to reach out to her brothers then maybe Arthur would detect it and find them. “Arthur,” she decided. “I want to see Arthur.” Her stomach twisted at the request, but Alex pulled on more of her magic. “Show me Arthur.”

  The gray nothing trembled. New shades of gray began to swirl in the distance, finally breaking up the bleakness. New colors appeared, dropping in like wet paint on a canvas, exploding out to form shapes. Red and black took over with hints of brown and yellow beginning to appear.

  Walking forward, Alex became aware that the world around her was becoming more solid. The texture of a worn industrial brick wall beside her became clear and sharp. Reaching out, she tried to touch it but felt nothing. Her hand didn’t vanish through the wall. She was just disconnected. With resignation, Alex rubbed her fingers together. She thought that maybe she felt that, but wasn’t sure. The colors and texture, the details, expanded. Then she looked around.

  She was in a room with a few high windows. It was dark outside, and large lamps hanging from the ceiling lit the room. A hardwood floor stayed silent under her bare feet as she walked. Bookshelves lined one wall and plush armchairs were set up near a small end table. It wasn’t homey, but it was lived in. She turned to look at the far side. There was a kitchen with an island and a doorway leading into a dark bathroom. At the right corner was a hat stand and a heavy wooden door that Alex assumed led out. Scanning the kitchen, Alex looked for anything that indicated where she was. There wasn’t any mail in sight, and the laptop on the island was closed up. She reached for it, but her hand didn’t connect with the hard plastic.

  The sound of a door opening made Alex turn quickly. Her eyes darted around for cover, and she moved into the shadows behind the island. She recognized Arthur at once as he stormed inside. He’d grown his hair out long enough that it was now tied back with a band. His blue eyes swept through the room but didn’t settle on her. This was a dream… or something similar to it, Alex reminded herself. She wasn’t really here.

  Then another person came in. It was Scáthbás, but she looked far more exhausted than the last time Alex had spied on her. She braced herself for Scáthbás to notice her somehow, but she didn’t. Instead, the woman tore off the long coat she was wearing and threw it angrily at Arthur. He caught it and moved to hang it up on the metal hat stand by the doorway.

  “Mother-”

  “That was a failure! An utter failure! If we can’t deliver on some of our promises soon, the Red Caps will desert us!”

  Blinking in surprise, it took Alex a moment to fully process what had been said. Scáthbás’ hair was a mess of tangles, and the woman was running her hands through it frantically as she paced. Heeled boots tapped loudly on the hardwood floor as Alex crept closer and closer to them. She was ready for some sort of magical attack, but nothing came.

  “Mother, please calm down,” Arthur said. He sounded calm but worried. The familiar tone gave Alex pause. He’d talked to her like that, a long time ago. “This isn’t helping.”

  “We need the sword!” Scáthbás snarled. “We’ve tried attacking the Iron Gates, but they draw power from the world around them. Their decay takes too long. I can’t wait another three thousand years for them to fall apart!”

  “We’ll get the sword,” Arthur promised. “The medallions worked, Mother!” Arthur’s nose curled up with frustration. “The Fae I sent walked right into Ravenslake.”

  “Yes, but they were killed, and the medallions were found,” Scáthbás said. She reached up, grasping Arthur’s face gently with both of her hands. “Arthur, darling, you must be cautious. Yes, this was a victory in your magical ability, but you tipped your hand. The mages will know.”

  “That won’t save them,” Arthur huffed. He pulled away from Scáthbás, shaking his head. “I can make more, while their precious blood spell won’t be enough now.”

  “Allied Fae of the Iron Soul live in Ravenslake,” Scáthbás said. “The blood spell has been altered by the current Iron Soul to let them pass. You’re assuming they can’t alter it again.”

  “Alex isn’t that creative.”

  Flinching, Alex gasped at the rush of hurt in her chest. Then she viciously stamped it down. Caring about what Arthur thought of her was stupid. Beyond stupid. Yet there was a little part of her that was still hurt by his dismissal. Then anger took its place.

  “She’s still alive,” Scáthbás said. She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, and Alex shuddered with how much she looked like Morgana at that moment. “You tried to kill her, but she lived.”

  “That was Aiden’s fault. He interfered-”

  “And according to the Fae who are loyal to their Queen, she and the other mages have successfully dealt with Demons in India and at least one Old One.”

  “Two,” Arthur grumbled. “She did kill Chernobog.”

  “Yes: a feat that even Merlin and Morgana couldn’t manage when he turned.” Scáthbás sat down in the armchair and eyed Arthur carefully. “Please tell me that you aren’t emotionally compromised.”

  “No!” Arthur shook his head. “Not in the way you mean. There are just moments when she reminds me of Arto, and I can’t help but want-” A low growl escaped him, and Alex blinked in surprise.

  “There are more important matters.” Scáthbás shook her head. “The medallions worked, but you should have had them steal the sword. Instead, the mages know what you’re trying to do because you were impatient to show off.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No? It seems like that to me. You failed to make any real impact on the mages, so you insult the Iron Soul to cover your failure. It makes me wonder if yo
u really know anything about this Alex Adams like you claim to.”

  “We’ll get the sword, Mother,” Arthur said. “And I want the Hammer too. If we can destroy the Chalice that will be a victory for us.”

  “Yes, but once again, you’ve given the mages warning. Your attack this summer did nothing except warn them, and now this.” Scáthbás touched Arthur’s cheek again, running her fingers over his skin. “It almost makes me wonder if you’re even trying to help me?”

  “What?” Arthur’s eyes widened and looked legitimately shocked. “Mother? How can you even say such a thing?”

  “This human body is growing older.” Scáthbás shrugged and looked up at Arthur coly through her lashes. “And you did enjoy the company of two of our enemies.”

  “Jenny and Alex weren’t anything special.”

  Scáthbás gave him a look, once again raising her eyebrow, but she seemed pleased. “Things will be different once we open the way and my people join me. It will be delicate, Arthur. I do not doubt that in my absence, others have tried to take and hold my throne.” She laughed, a soft and sweet sound that had no business coming from her. “But I know the Sídhe. They’ll be divided. I had strength and conviction that the others lacked. I will regain control!”

  “Why do you want to bring them here so badly?” Arthur asked. “They’re not loyal to you; not anymore. Just leave the Iron Gates and rule over the Fae here who have sided with us. The Red Caps like having license to kill, and most of the others are tired of hiding from humans.”

  “That’s not enough.”

  “Then we could ally with the Demons or use some magic to release a nuke or something!” Arthur rocked on his feet and rubbed his hands together, a spark of excitement in his eyes.

  “No!” Scáthbás’ tone was harsh and cold. “No, I do not want the Iron Realm itself damaged! We need it.”

  “You keep saying that, but won’t explain,” Arthur said. “We can take this world! Even the greatest weapons of the humans could be dealt with easily enough-”

  “You are but a boy,” Scáthbás sneered. “There’s much you don’t understand, Arthur.”

  “Is this about the homeworld again?” Arthur asked. “Mother, you’ve told me about it. So, one world died.”

  “It wasn’t one world!” Scáthbás glared at him, her fingers curling into tight fists. “Think, boy! Why do the others come here?”

  “The Old Ones are exiles.”

  “Yes, but no new Old Ones have come into this world for centuries,” Scáthbás said. “They are either very old or were born here.”

  “The Iron Gates-”

  “Even before the Iron Gates, it had been some time since Old Ones came here. And when the Iron Gates fell, there were no signs of any openings to the world of the Old Ones.”

  “That doesn’t mean that it’s dead,” Arthur argued. “Really, Mother, you’re being paranoid. The government probably just changed.”

  “And the Demons?” Scáthbás asked. “No Arthur; something is wrong. We need Earth, and we need a way to open the Iron Gates. I must release the Sídhe into this world. We will conquer it and be safe at the trunk of the Tree of Reality.”

  Watching Scáthbás, Alex couldn’t help but notice the hope in the woman’s eyes. It wasn’t the greed she was expecting. Taking a step forward, Alex moved to examine both of them a little closer. Then a sharp pain made her stop. Her chest ached. A dull fire was spreading through her body. Alex closed her eyes and focused on her magic. It was pulsing, but weakly. Stretched too thin. Opening her eyes, she looked around. The colors were beginning to vanish and bleed together. Small pieces of her surroundings were flickering, like a glitching video game.

  “Mother?”

  “I know this to be true, Arthur,” Scáthbás said. “I have dedicated my life to ensuring that the Sídhe spread. These three thousand years have delayed the process too long. My-our kind must be secure.”

  “The Iron Realm will try to reject us.”

  “It tries to reject them all. Sídhe, Fae, Old Ones, and Demons, but they live. Without the mages, the Iron Realm can’t fight back.” Scáthbás inhaled slowly and relaxed in her chair. “Get me the sword, Arthur.”

  Panting, Alex swallowed and focused on Scáthbás. The woman’s face gave nothing away. It was calm and cold, almost like a statue. Arthur was staring at her, waiting for something. She glanced between them, wishing she could understand what they were thinking. If this was real, as she believed, then maybe it could give her a clue about what happened next.

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Arthur,” Scáthbás said. With a tired air, she leaned her head into her palm. “I’m tired. We will speak later, but leave the mages be for the time being. We need a plan: an actual plan to take the sword.”

  “We’ll send in multiple groups. One will distract them, and the other will steal the sword,” Arthur said. His voice was distant, almost echoing now with distortion. “It was easy enough-”

  Scáthbás held up her hand to silence him. “My darling, that’s enough. It’s late, or rather early, and the human frailty in us needs rest.”

  Arthur was frowning still. Between his eyebrows, wrinkles were forming as he pouted. Scáthbás didn’t look at him, but Alex was certain she knew Arthur was still there. Then he bowed slightly to Scáthbás, backing away from her. His fingers curled into fists, but he turned and marched towards the door. Nothing more was said, and Alex felt the burn of her exhausted magic growing worse and worse.

  Scáthbás stood up and made a brief effort to smooth down her hair as she moved across the room. With an exhausted sigh, Scáthbás opened a large wooden cabinet to reveal the bottom side of a mattress. Around Alex, the world was becoming hazier as the former Sídhe Queen pulled down the bed and smoothed out the blankets. Moving towards the doorway, Alex hurried after Arthur, but the ache in her chest was growing worse. Reaching the door, Alex’s legs started to collapse.

  Heat rolled through her arms and legs. Sharp pains radiated out from her muscles. Suddenly she gasped and found herself looking up at a dark ceiling — her room. She was in her bedroom. Inhaling slowly, Alex held it for five long seconds before releasing it. Carefully, she flexed her legs. They moved, but the muscles protested the action.

  Groaning in pain, Alex curled into a ball and rolled onto her side. Her fingers tightened into her blankets. Shifting her cheek further into the pillow, Alex struggled to muster the energy to get up. She needed to write down what she’d heard. Needed to try and regain some magic. Whatever she’d done to watch Arthur and Scáthbás had worked, but it had been difficult. Maybe she’d slipped past their defenses. That almost made her smile.

  Sitting up, Alex reached blindly to the side of the bed. Her stuffed animal Galahad was almost knocked off the table, but Alex caught him. She hugged the old stuffed toy tightly. The soft lingering scent of her childhood home was gone now, but the memory remained. Exhaustion weighed her down. After a few minutes like that, Alex swung her legs out of bed and reached for her phone. Maybe it had only been a dream, but her chest still burned slightly from using too much magic, so she was going to be safe and make a note of everything that she’d heard. With any luck, some of it would be useful.

  24

  Not His Life

  Podlasie Province, Poland 983 C.E.

  Things were moving fast now. Dobiemir wondered if that was how life went for mages. Days of everything being quiet and then suddenly everything moving all at once. As they moved deeper and deeper into the forest the world grew darker and darker. Plants were dying all around them, and a few showed strange signs of frost damage. It shouldn’t have been possible in the summer, but it proved that the strange being was still here.

  Focusing on his breathing as they walked, Dobiemir could feel a soft pulse inside his body. It might have been his heart and blood, but he was hoping it was his magic. If there was ever a time where he needed it, it was now. He shouldn’t have come. Merlin and Morgana were wrong about him: he wasn’t a mage, a
nd that was becoming more and more apparent as they went on.

  Then there was a sound ahead of them. A branch snapped and there was a soft cry. He froze. The others came to a stop ahead of him. Swallowing, Dobiemir leaned to the side just enough to peer around Baldr’s wide shoulders. He was ready for the sight of Shadows coming towards them. Dobiemir braced himself for the onslaught of cold. But it didn’t come. Something else was coming towards them.

  It was a woman, but unlike any he’d seen before. Her skin was darker than his, almost the same shade as bronze. Her long dark hair had small glowing droplets of water scattered throughout, and a glowing circlet illuminated her face. She wore a simple gown that in the shadows looked blue, but he wasn’t sure as the material was strange and much smoother than anything he had ever seen. Green eyes met his, and Dobiemir gasped as a strange vision gripped him.