The Iron Cursed

by J. M. Briggs

  “Wow,” Galvyn said. Then he blushed and grimaced at his greeting. “Sorry. It’s very nice to meet you. Our village is humble but if you require anything, just say the word.”

  “Thank you. Nice to meet you as well Galvyn,” Flaitheas replied kindly. She was smiling a little and then looked around the village. “Your village is a bit smaller than I was expecting.”

  “Yes,” Leugio said. “With traveling to other villages, I’m realizing just how small we are.”

  “You’ve been away longer this time,” Galvyn said. His expression darkened slightly. “Is everything alright?”

  “Forgive me,” Leugio replied quickly. “We meant to come here over a month ago, but there were more reports that needed to be investigated.”

  “Nothing here though, right?” Galvyn pressed. He looked around nervously and then checked the sun’s position. “After what happened with Keelia, everything has been calm and quiet!”

  “Speaking of my sister, where is she?”

  “Oh she’s in the pasture,” Galvyn said. “She’s taken over watching the sheep.”

  “Thank you. What of my mother?”

  “I’m not sure where Sabe is,” Galvyn replied. He looked around quickly. “Some of the women went out to the forest to gather roots. I think she might have gone with them. I could show you-”

  “That’s alright,” Flaitheas interrupted. “We have other business to see to.”

  “Business,” Galvyn repeated. His eyes widened and he looked at Leugio. “You aren’t going back to the mound, are you?”

  “I’ll be fine, Galvyn,” Leugio promised.

  To prove it, he held out his right hand and pulled on the spark of magic below his heart. His hand began to glow and shimmering white orb took form in his palm. His friend’s eyes widened further and next to him, Flaitheas smiled in pleasure.

  “You… wow!” Galvyn reached out towards the orb only to pull his hand back. His eyes darted between Leugio, Flaitheas and their escort. “Do you need any help?”

  “No, but if you’d keep an eye out for my mother and sister I’d appreciate it.” Leugio glanced out towards the sheep pasture in the distance. “Especially Keelia: I don’t want her trying to come after me.”

  “Well, alright then,” Galvyn replied uneasily. He looked at the guards again. “If you’re sure. You know I’m not warrior material.”

  “I know, but we’ll be fine. I’m hoping just to talk to them. Hopefully, the nearby mound isn’t involved in any of the raids.”

  Galvyn paled at the words and nodded eagerly. Around them the others were whispering to each other and looking his way nervously. Holding back a sigh, Leugio mounted his horse once more and peered off into the distance. Flaitheas gave him a supportive look and the familiar smile that made his heart beat faster. He knew that he would blush soon and urged the horse forward.

  “Don’t you wish to see your mother and sister?” Flaitheas asked.

  “Later, after we speak with Iúdás.” He tried not to squirm in the saddle. “Mother will worry if she knows where we are going.”

  Flaitheas nodded her understanding and swung up onto her own horse, still far more gracefully than he could. The villagers drew back, eyeing him as though he were a madman. Perhaps he was. Still, this wasn’t the time to worry about it. They headed out of the village and hurried towards the Sídhe’s home.

  The mound loomed ahead of them. It wasn’t as large as Leugio remembered or as frightening. Maybe it was being on a horse with three warriors behind him, or maybe it was just his understanding. He knew that he could stop at least a few Sídhe on his own thanks to his magic. The sounds of the countryside washed over him. There was the baaing of the sheep and the wind in the trees of the forest up the hill. There were the smells of the village lingering in the air even as the scent of the crops grew stronger. It was all very much the same and yet different.

  A familiar figure was tucked back in the shadow of the mound entrance, though its feet were almost in the sun as it lounged on a smooth stone. Violet eyes looked up at them, but the figure did not move. Leugio relaxed on his horse in an attempt to appear calm. As they got closer, he recognized that the figure was definitely Iúdás by the cruit he held. He dismounted his horse as they stopped just shy of the entrance, though the others remained mounted.

  “Ah, the young mage returns once again,” Iúdás greeted. “It has been some time since you last came here.” Its violet eyes took in the group. “And I do not think you mean to storm the mound with only five.”

  “Indeed not,” Leugio agree. He paused and considered how to proceed for a moment. “I seek information from you, Iúdás.”

  “Do you indeed, Leugio?” Iúdás’ expression brightened and he plucked a string of the cruit, producing a sweet sound. “I thought as much.” There was a pause as Iúdás seemed to think. Then he nodded. “Ask your question.”

  “Do you know anything about a new leader of the Sídhe?” Leugio asked, finally voicing the real question. “One who is organizing the mounds to work together?”

  “I know some things,” Iúdás said. His fingers finally stopped playing and he looked up at Leugio with sharp violet eyes. “It is a fool’s attempt. The magic of the Iron Realm will rise up to stop any real threat our kind may pose, and there is no love lost between the mound dwellers and the other Faery creatures. Our former slaves will fight us back if we break the peace.”

  “What slaves?”

  “The Faeries, creatures who are not Sídhe, but live in your world.”

  “Like Pookas?”

  “Yes. My ancestors had a powerful empire. I suppose that the others still might, but when they sought to take over Earth they were defeated by mages. Many of those they had enslaved used it as a chance to flee in the chaos. A barrier was created between this world and that of the empire, trapping many of us here.”

  “I’m not sure that I understand,” Leugio admitted.

  “No.” Iúdás studied him and then nodded. “I suppose not. You are alone, little mage of the Iron Realm. I am not sure why. Perhaps we are not such a great threat after all if even the Grand Mages have not returned to this island.”

  “The Grand Mages?”

  “There are stories of two mages who have been alive for centuries,” Iúdás explained. “Ever since the great war that banished our ancestors here. My people teach their children of them. We are to run and hide from them should they come, but they have not.”

  “You speak in riddles,” Flaitheas snapped. “Answer the questions!”

  “No, I speak plainly. You just do not understand,” Iúdás said. He only glanced her way for a moment. “You are not a mage nor a Sídhe. I doubt you could ever understand.”

  “Who are these Grand Mages?” Leugio asked. He didn’t like Iúdás speaking with Flaitheas.

  “One is Merlin and the other Morgana. They are ageless mages who have lived from the time of the first war. There are many stories of them and I do not know which to believe, but they have not returned to these shores in a long time, and it is a large world. Even if they detect your magic it will take them time to find you, unless they throw themselves into the water.”

  Those words made no sense to Leugio. He wasn’t sure if relief or anger was the proper reaction. The aid of others would have been welcome, but they sounded like terrifying beings. He reached up and touched his brooch, which hummed beneath his fingers. Magic was shimmering just beneath his skin, with a strange impulse urging him forward into the tunnel. Thankfully his memory of how many Sídhe there were below was enough to keep him still.

  “Never mind the Grand Mages then,” Leugio said. He shook his head slightly, noting that Iúdás was still looking at his brooch. “Something about my brooch fascinates you Iúdás? I doubt you wish to trade information for it; the metal is iron.”

  “No,” Iúdás agreed. “I would not touch that for the world.” He leaned forward and sniffed slightly, nostrils flaring. “You wore it when you first came here.”


  “Yes; I’ve had it since I was a boy,” Leugio replied. “What about it?”

  Iúdás didn’t answer. He just looked at the brooch, and Leugio risked a glance down at it. The old knot design was worn down a bit and the edges were smooth from his fingers. It was nothing special. He only wore it all the time because of the sentimental value.

  “So this lord?” Leugio coughed lightly to draw Iúdás’ attention back to him. “What can you tell me about them? Who is organizing the Sídhe against the humans?”

  “I fear the consequences of another attempted conquest. Humans… they are built to fight. Born to fight.” Iúdás shook his head and stood from his position. “There is a lord seeking power. He sends messengers between the mounds, but not all follow him. He promises things he cannot deliver. They have had a few small successes: gained a few human slaves and forced some of the other Fae Folk to serve them. Nothing grand, but it is enough to have gained him some followers.”

  “Where is this lord?” Flaitheas asked. “We can stop him.”

  “This one can,” Iúdás agreed, pointing at Leugio. “While untrained in his magic, he carries power and is forming himself a weapon.”

  “A weapon?”

  “That brooch,” Iúdás said. “We have only met thrice, and each time you have been grasping it. Iron is the metal of this realm. You carry it in your blood and build your world with it. That is why it burns us. Your magic lives within it, and with every touch some of your power enters that brooch. It is not too strong, but I can sense the power settling into it. For what purpose, I do not know.”

  “Purpose?” Leugio’s mind was spinning and confusion was taking over. “I don’t understand. Do you mean I’ve made it magical? Like in the legends?”

  “Yes,” Iúdás said plainly. “Though what exactly you have wrought I do not know. Perhaps it comforts, perhaps it protects or perhaps it will make you stronger. It depends on what you have thought about as you poured in the magic.”

  “It can’t be that simple, can it?” Leugio argued. “If it was then surely there would be many magical items.”

  Iúdás was studying him closely now. Then the Síd nodded. “You’re not wrong, but many items carry a spark of magic. The question is, will that magic endure, or will it be used up for a purpose? You are placing magic in that iron, but in a time of need you may use it all. Or it may endure beyond your lifespan. I cannot say for certain.”

  Pulling off the brooch, Leugio ran his thumb over the worn pattern. Now that he was paying attention, he noticed a faint warmth from the iron and see a glimmer of magic in the metal. It was almost enough to make him drop it. Flaitheas had moved her horse and was looking down at the brooch curiously.

  “I’m afraid that I can be of little help to you,” Iúdás said. “But I have heard that Teàrlach is aware that there is a mage in the land. I suspect that he will seek you out soon enough.” Iúdás stood up while the name Teàrlach rang through Leugio’s head. “I have been able to gain full control over this mound and have forbidden my own from aiding him. I wish you well, Leugio. May you defeat Teàrlach before his actions draw the attention of the Grand Mages.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better to have their help?” Leugio asked.

  “Death follows those two,” Iúdás replied. “They have lived for generations. Death does not take them, but it takes those around them.” Shaking his head, Iúdás looked almost pleadingly at him. “And their arrival on these shores would signal a far greater threat than either of us would wish for. For all of our sakes, let us hope that they do not feel a call leading them here.”

  With that, Iúdás turned and vanished into the darkness of the tunnel. Leugio was left holding his brooch and weighing the words. Something about the way Iúdás spoke of Merlin and Morgana frightened him. Flaitheas made a sound of irritation, but Leugio shook his head and repinned his brooch on his cloak. Once he was sure that Iúdás was gone, he swung himself up onto his horse once more.

  “Well, that wasn’t very helpful,” Flaitheas said. She was glowering at him, but Leugio didn’t let it bother him. “All we learned was a name.”

  “No,” Leugio disagreed. “I learned several things.”

  Flaitheas gave him an expectant look, but Leugio had no idea of where to even begin. He wasn’t sure what to make of the reality that the Sídhe weren’t all on the same side. In one respect it was reassuring, but it made everything more complicated. Touching his brooch again, Leugio pushed a little bit of magic into the metal, and to his surprise he saw a white spark flash off his fingertip and sink into it. The hum became stronger and he smiled.

  “And I have some thoughts on how to help us defend ourselves from the Sídhe,” he added. “Now that I know I can put magic into iron.”

  That earned him a smile from Flaitheas. Her shoulders relaxed and her posture eased. She reached over to touch his arm and squeezed it for a moment. Leugio could feel his face heating up and Flaitheas’ smile widened. Their escorts thankfully stayed silent.

  “Come on,” Flaitheas said. “It’s about time I met your family, don’t you think? What with us being engaged?”

  A blush exploded across Leugio’s face. “That was your father’s idea.”

  “You didn’t object,” Flaitheas countered. Her smile softened though it retained a teasing edge. “Unless you do mind.”

  “No,” he said quickly. “No, I don’t mind.” His throat was a little too tight at the smile she gave him, and his mouth a touch too dry. “Uh, come on then, Mother will be thrilled to meet you.”

  25

  The Magician

  Seeing Alex still and silent was becoming an uncomfortably familiar sight. Lance had never really associated the athletic blonde girl with fainting and lying unconscious in a bed. When he’d first met her Alex had been bright and cheerful, even if she wasn’t the most outgoing person in the world. And now knowing that she was a mage and the latest incarnation of some great magic warrior just made the sight even more jarring.

  He and Jenny had obeyed Alex, despite Jenny’s protests, and gone up near the dorms. Merlin and Morgana had arrived shortly after and charged into the fight. Lance wasn’t sure if Alex had cast some spell, but none of the other students had seemed to notice anything. Lance had an odd itch to be somewhere else as dark blue clouds swirled around the area. Then it had cleared, and Brekszta had fled.

  “Do you think Alex will be alright?” Jenny asked, drawing him back into the present.

  He was standing near the doorway of Morgana’s house. Alex was being carefully floated back to the guest room and Lance knew that she wouldn’t be happy to wake up there once again. Nodding to Jenny, he looked back outside where Sif was speaking with the strange young woman who had turned up. Morgana hadn’t been happy when she’d stepped forward to help, but Sif had caught her and said something that calmed her down.

  “Are you staying?” the newcomer asked Sif. She sounded a touch distressed and had an accented voice.

  “I… I don’t think it’s wise for me to be around Alex right now,” Sif replied.

  Lance frowned at the statement. Next to him, Jenny’s brow furrowed in confusion and she too frowned. The newcomer blinked in confusion, but stepped back from Sif and nodded. She bowed slightly.

  “As you wish. Thank you for bringing me here, milady.”

  “You don’t need to be so formal, and don’t worry,” Sif replied. “They’re good people, and they’ll listen to what you need to tell them.” Sif glanced towards the house and smiled when she caught sight of him and Jenny “Things are more complicated than I was aware of. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Will you remain in the area?”

  “Yes, for the night at least,” Sif promised. “In case I am needed.”

  Then Sif turned and began to walk down the drive. Lance stepped outside and called after her, “Do you need a ride?”

  “Oh, no thank you,” Sif answered. She turned back to him and smiled. “I’ll be just fine, but thank you.”

  Unsure o
f what to say or do, Lance lingered on Morgana’s porch. Then the newcomer looked up at him. He noted for the first time that she had a backpack on and looked as uncertain as he felt. Nodding to her, he held open the door of the house and waited. She climbed up the stairs and tentatively went inside.

  Lance followed her inside, giving himself a moment to study the newcomer. She was a little taller than Jenny with a slim build and black hair tied up in a tight crown braid. He hated to guess, but judging from her skin tone he thought she probably Indian. At first glance she looked like any other college student: she was about their age, wearing jeans, black boots, and a flowing purple shirt. Then, before he could say anything stupid, Merlin called for them to come to the living room.

  Merlin’s eyes were on the newcomer the instant they walked into the living room. The eldest mage’s brown eyes were tired and worried, but he forced a smile. There was already a tea set on the coffee table and Aiden and Nicki were on the couch.