The Iron Cursed
Page 6
Three Sídhe were running forward. Rather than tunics, they were wearing heavier clothing like leather. Their swords were already drawn. Kent snarled, and in the corner of his eye Leugio saw the Síd he’d stabbed falling apart. There was no wind, and his eyes dropped unbidden to the small pile of dust on the stones. Shaking himself, he focused on the nearest Sídhe and waved his dagger in front of him. They slowed and eyed him with sharp violet gazes. His heartbeat echoed in his ears. He was breathing more heavily now, his limbs feeling stronger and yet ready to shake at any moment.
One of the Sídhe pushed forward. He ducked the sword and slashed the dagger forward, leaving a cut across the thick armor to his shock. Something sliced his arm and blood trickled from the wound. A noise of frustration escaped the Síd and his eyes narrowed on a reddish tint seeping across the golden blade. Kent had grabbed its arm, but the other two were advancing. Leugio jabbed the dagger forward, trying to catch the Sid in the neck. It brought up its free arm and grabbed his hand.
A tight grip squeezed the sides of his hand. Pain rippled down his arm and his legs trembled as the Sídhe forced him back. Shrieking reached his ears as the Síd’s long nails began to dig into his flesh. Leugio realized it was him. Kent barked and then the Síd twisted away. The dagger fell from his fingers even as he was freed and the Síd retreated from Kent’s teeth.
As the iron dagger hit the floor of the tunnel, the metallic clatter echoed around him and the Sídhe closed in. One kicked fearfully at the dagger, sending it sliding across the stone floor. Leugio stumbled back to retrieve his weapon while Kent yelped and hit the wall as a Síd kicked him. Teeth flashed in the low torchlight as Kent whirled and ripped at another Sídhe’s leg. A sword flashed through the air and Leugio ducked frantically. He heard the blade ring against the wall. Leugio jabbed the dagger forward, catching a Síd’s hand. It hissed in pain and dropped its sword.
Victory was short lived. Kent’s target fell back and frantically shook off the dog. The tunnel became a mess of whines, snarls, and blades striking stone. Leugio frantically dodged another attack. He waved the dagger around in front of himself, trying to catch another Sídhe. They were eyeing the iron blade carefully, but it wasn’t stopping them. He swung around and waved the blade at another pair of Sídhe coming up behind him. His left hand trembled and the torch slipped from his fingers.
They were closing in around him. There were more than three now, coming in behind him and down the corridor. Terror gripped at his chest. A pained yelp from Kent cut through the noise in his ears. His eyes found a Síd on his right with a dagger raised to finish him. Something hummed through his feet, mixing with the terror and twisting around his heart. Fire burst forth in his chest, flooding through his entire body. Leugio was sure he was dying, knew a final blow coming. Yet all he wanted, all he could focus on was throwing these things back. He needed to find Keelia. A cry echoed up through the corridors and another snarl and cry from Kent sent it all tumbling over a strange new edge.
The fire burst out. Bright white sparks flew off his hands, illuminating the whole of the passage. A scream from a Síd was all the warning any got as a ring of white exploded around him. The Sídhe were shoved into the wall, their backs and heads cracking against the stone. Some managed to yell, some to scream and others only managed small gurgles before their bodies began to turn to dust. Turning around, Leugio found the two Sídhe behind him dissolving. Suddenly they were all gone.
Looking down at his hand, Leugio gasped as white sparks glittered around his fingers. A sharp tingling jolted up his arm. The air was forced from his lungs, but a dull whimper pulled his attention away. Kent was whining in pain and limping forward. Dropping to his knees beside the dog, Leugio held back tears as he took in the matted, bloody fur. Kent turned and looked at him, his dark brown eyes dull with pain, but then Kent limped forward another step. Another pained whimper escaped him.
Ignoring the white sparks, Leugio grabbed at Kent’s neck to keep him from moving forward. His chest ached even as his mind pushed away logic and the rational knowledge that the poor creature was done for. His fingers were glowing as he patted the dog fondly. Yet even the strange glow wasn’t enough to distract him from the grief coiling in his chest.
“I’m sorry boy,” he said. “I- stay here, I’ll find Keelia.” Breathing was harder now and Leugio shivered. His energy was draining away, but he didn’t understand it. “I’ll find her,” he promised. “Really, boy, just lay down for awhile. When I find her I can carry you out.”
The words sounded hollow. The ache in his chest was growing and a white spark jumped off his fingers. His eyes moved to his hand, but he didn’t understand. Now the ache was in his head and his eyes were burning. Closing his eyes, Leugio shook his head as chills swept up his spine.
Kent whined, the sound more surprised than pained. Leugio swayed, weakness rolling over him. Forcing open his eyes, he looked down the tunnel first, but they were still alone. A growing light caught his attention and he looked down at his hands. The white sparks had turned into soft waves of light that washed across Kent’s side. The dog shuddered and tried to move away, but Leugio’s right hand tightened on the scuff of his neck on impulse. His eyes were drawn to the sparks as the misshapen side of Kent began to glow. It shifted; there was a sharp, strange grinding sound. The sparks began to vanish into Kent’s side.
“Heal,” Leugio whispered. He licked his lips and swallowed, his mouth painfully dry. “Heal.” The sparks shimmered brightly and Kent stopped shifting away. “Easy, boy.” He brushed over the dog’s thick fur. The strange burning in his chest was getting stronger again, but this time fueled by hope and a hint of desperation. “Easy, boy.”
Kent barked and jumped away, shaking his whole body. The magic snapped back against Leugio’s chest, knocking him lower on his knees. Leugio tried to stand, but his legs trembled and he panted for air. He raised his eyes and looked at Kent. The dog came back to him and licked his face. Leaning back, Leugio laughed a little, but the exhaustion was weighing on him. His back hit the wall and the shock of cold woke him up a bit, but it wasn’t enough. The ache in his head was worse and there was a dull burn in his chest. At the edge of his vision shadows were dancing.
“Just… give me a second, Kent,” he panted. Rubbing Kent’s fur, Leugio gently touched the dog’s side, but Kent made no sounds. The dog shifted slightly, stepping forward and then looking back at him. There was no limping and no open wounds in the skin, even if the drying blood remained. “How did I…?” He shook his head and looked at his hands. There was a thin layer of blood and marks from the Síd’s nails, but also a faint glow that was quickly dimming. “Magic. I have magic.”
Kent whined and turned away from him, heading down the tunnel. Leugio grabbed his dagger from the ground, noting the large chip in the blade. After a moment of hesitation, he slid it into the sheath on his belt and picked the torch back up. Inhaling deeply, Leugio stumbled forward. He had to use his right hand to support himself against the wall.
He wasn’t injured, but his body ached. Leugio could only remember a few days in his life when he’d been left so tired, but that had always involved heavy labor. Kent stayed close to him, sniffing the air. Panting, Leugio slumped against the wall. His vision was blurring, with only the points of light from the torches being clear. His mind was still tripping over Kent’s sudden recovery and how he’d stopped all those Sídhe. Looking down at his hands, Leugio tried to smile, but the ache was too much. Instead, he groaned and shuffled forward.
7
Advisor Meeting
Monday was a drearier day than normal. Students were moving around the campus like zombies, even those with espressos and caffeine drinks in hand. There was a hint of rain and ozone in the air that warned of a storm, but so far it had rolled over the mountains and just parked. Every so often there was a rumble from the sky, but the rain had yet to fall. Alex hated it.
She hated all of it. She hated the look Nicki had given her when she had arrived late
last night. She hated the final words her brothers had said to her and the fact that Ed wouldn’t even hug her. Alex hated the distance between her and her brothers now even as she was grateful for it. Most of all she hated the dreams and voices and hated that she needed them. They were the only things keeping the knot contained and holding her grief back.
Classes were an exercise in patience. She was done with most of her general education classes which meant that she didn’t have to feel the others watching her through class, but instead it meant that the teachers were. Alex was beginning to hate university policy too. She hadn’t paid it much mind before. It certainly hadn’t been a point of concern when she’d chosen the University of Ravenslake as her university of choice. Then again, magic had apparently taken a role in that.
Policy dictated that her teachers were all treating her with kid gloves. Her deadlines for upcoming papers were being extended without her having to ask and they were leaving her alone during class. One day back and frustration was already growing in her gut.
None of her fellow students paid her much mind. While the teachers had been informed, Alex supposed that there would be no reason for the other students to know. A car crash with three fatalities in Spokane, Washington had no reason to be news in Ravenslake, Oregon. Instead the rest of the world was just going on with their normal lives, completely unaware of her loss or the dangerous magical war brewing beneath the surface.
Anger towards Arthur ached in her chest, right below the knot of grief Alex was holding at bay. She didn’t mind the anger: it was the simplest and most straightforward thing in her life right now. So she focused on that, took her notes in class and tried to ignore the looks she got from the professors. Her phone beeped with an email halfway through lunch. It was an official looking email from the English department requesting that she meet with her advisor. Alex knew that it really wasn’t much of a request. Not for the first time she had serious doubts about her English with a literature focus major.
The English department offices were the same as most other department offices. A receptionist with a full inbox sat near the main door and there were a few chairs for waiting students. On the walls were framed book covers and notices of upcoming meetings. There was a rather battered bookshelf tucked next to a small table in one corner with reference books and old paperback copies of classics. One of the students waiting glanced her way before looking back at the documents in their hand. Alex look at the receptionist who didn’t even look up at her from the file he was working on and kept walking towards Merlin’s office. The door was open and he was waiting for her.
Nothing about Merlin indicated that he was thousands of years old. He had the appearance of an older man with deep laugh lines around his eyes. His brown eyes were intense and almost glowed with wisdom, but most people would chalk that up to him being a literature professor. The only small fragment of his ancient past in Bronze Age Britain was a small triskelion pin that he wore on the lapel of his jacket. It was made of iron and had small tool marks on it, but even it was very modern. There was no staff, no cloak and no talismans around his neck, and something about that seemed wrong to Alex all of a sudden. Still, she forced a slight smile and stepped into the office.
Merlin’s office hadn’t changed much. There were some new books on the shelves and he’d replaced one of the art prints on his wall. On his desk were an electric kettle and two tea cups. Alex hadn’t been much of one for tea before meeting the professors, but despite them not actually originating from the period of time where British people drank tea they seemed to have adopted it. Maybe it was an odd form of national pride they still carried.
From his chair, Merlin offered her a wide smile and gestured to the armchair by his desk. Alex pulled off her messenger bag and set it on the ground. Merlin eyed the door she’d left open with a slight frown. Then he raised his fingers and greens sparks appeared for a moment. He moved his fingers and the door swung shut.
“There was no one in the hallway,” Merlin said. He gave her a warm smile that brightened his brown eyes. “Now, Alex, how are you?”
“I’m fine,” Alex replied. She shrugged slightly. “It’s a bit weird being back in classes, but the structure is good.” Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, Alex cleared her throat slightly and pulled a small notebook out of her bag. “Honestly I’ve not finished my course schedule for next year, but I’m looking at mostly English classes with a couple-”
“Alex,” Merlin interrupted. He held up his hand. “That’s not what this meeting is about.” He seemed adrift for a moment. “I’m glad that you’re already planning for next year’s classes, especially in light of recent events, but…” Merlin seemed to be struggling for the right words. There was a flush of satisfaction and even amusement through Alex that almost made her smile. “This is about the loss of your parents. You’ve suffered a deep loss.”
“I’m doing alright, Professor Yates,” Alex said. It was strange calling him by his formal name, but she hoped it would warn him not to push. “Like I said, the structure of being back in school is helping. I got up this morning and knew what I needed to do and went to class.”
Merlin seemed surprised and even a little distressed at her answer. Nonetheless, he nodded slowly and then reached for the kettle. Without a word, he poured her some tea and the scent of Earl Grey filled Alex’s nostrils. She accepted the offered tea with a nod and then took a slow sip. That seemed to relax Merlin a little.
“I’m worried about you, Alex,” Merlin finally said. He held his own mug of tea and watched her sadly. “You’ve lost your parents, but don’t seem to be grieving.”
“Everyone grieves in their own way.” She didn’t meet his eyes and looked towards the window. For a change, Alex found herself actually wishing for an attack, but with the Queen’s spell broken and the Iron Gate holding that was very unlikely. “I’m done crying.”
“Yes, but…” Merlin sighed and shook his head. He was silent for a moment and just watched her. “I can’t help but feel that something is wrong.” Smiling gently at her, Merlin leaned forward. “You’ve always been such a bright, cheerful girl.”
“Not really.”
“To me you are,” Merlin countered. “While yes, you’ve never really given yourself enough credit for what you’re capable of, you’ve also never been so… distant.” He paused and frowned, a hint of alarm in his eyes. “Except when you were aware that Jenny and Lance were cheating. You were withdrawn then. Has something happened?”
“No, Lance and Jenny are fine and it doesn’t bother me,” Alex assured him. She really just wanted to get up and leave. “I’m glad they’re together and happy. I’m not sure if I believe in soul mates or anything like that, but those two deserve a chance to be happy on their own terms.”
Several whispers of agreement echoed in her head, and the sense of solidarity sank into Alex’s bones. She relaxed a little and took a sip of the tea. It was bitterer than she usually liked her drinks, but Alex suspected that she could get used to it. Merlin was still watching her. Looking outside, Alex noted the brightness of the green she could already see in the trees and the lawn. She could hear the muffled sounds of campus life beyond the glass. A ray of sun hit the window, telling Alex that the cloud cover was breaking. Something shifted in her chest a little, but she didn’t dare try to figure out what it was.
“Alex, I know we aren’t close, and I regret that,” Merlin said. His features were mournful. “In addition to being your magical mentor, well, one of them, I am also your academic advisor. Yet I focused more on Arthur than you. Under the circumstances, it seemed appropriate, but I still should have been there more when you needed me, when you were frustrated by using your magic.”
“I was fine,” Alex said. She looked down into the softly twirling tea. “Morgana helped me. And when you think about it, that makes sense. She was my sister in another life.”
“Yes, but in that same life I was…” Merlin trailed off, grief appearing on his face. Something i
n Alex twisted. It was like the knot of grief, but this one wasn’t for her parents. She hissed in alarm, surprise, and pain as it flooded her whole body with a pained sensation. “Anyway,” Merlin said. “I want you to know that if you need anything or ever wish to talk, I will listen. If there’s ever something you don’t want to talk to Morgana about, of course.” Merlin forced a smile. “I don’t wish to disrupt your relationship with her. I’m grateful that she’s been able to be there for you.”
“You were a good father,” Alex said. The words just slipped out as tears gathered in her eyes. Merlin’s brown eyes widened and he stuttered.
Dropping her eyes, Alex leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. Her whole body was heavy and yet there was a charge of nervous energy she didn’t know how to deal with pulsing in her veins. Something was loud in her head and the soft flow of magic in her chest wavered. Then there was a hand on the top of her head, putting gentle pressure on her scalp. It was familiar, and comforting, and… Alex inhaled slowly on some long-trained instinct.