The Iron Realm (The Iron Soul Book 1)

by J. M. Briggs

  The soft click of her low heels against the sidewalk echoed in the night as Alex passed by one of the old fashioned looking lamp posts that lined the walk between the library and the administration building. Glancing over at the commons, Alex was struck at how large and dark it was in the moonlight. She tightened her hoodie around herself, grateful for the warmth on her arms, but regretting choosing a costume with a skirt. Another shiver passed through her body and Alex allowed herself a soft pitiful whimper. Alex increased her speed and the length of her stride focusing on the street up ahead as she mentally mapped out the fastest route back to her dorm room that didn't involve cold grass.

  A howl echoed across the campus stopping Alex in her tracks. Looking around slowly, Alex did her best to stay calm. Maybe someone had gotten a loudspeaker and was playing a Halloween prank. That would explain the sounds she'd heard back at Greek row too. Professor Yates' advice about being careful replayed in her mind causing her stomach to tighten. She stood perfectly still in a pool of light from a lamp post and waited as her eyes traced the area in front of her.

  Then there was the sound of footfalls to the right, past the Carlson building that were echoing in the darkness and coming closer. Alex turned sharply towards the noise and started to move forward while watching the edge of the building. Three figures came around the corner of the building, one of them holding a flashlight which was shined towards her.

  “Alex?” the familiar voice of Nicki asked and the girl lowered her flashlight and moved closer to the lamppost.

  Alex nearly laughed, Nicki was dressed as Glinda the Good and her soccer teammate grinned at her costume. She eyes went to the figures behind Nicki and she wasn't at all surprised to see Aiden and Bran looking towards her. Aiden was dressed like a 1950s greaser complete with a black leather coat, but his hair was a mess and Bran was dressed in some kind of steampunk outfit with a metal black cane instead of his regular wooden one.

  “Hi,” Alex greeted with a quick nod to her classmates. “How was your Halloween?”

  “Good,” Nicki answered as the trio approached Alex and joined her on the sidewalk. “We went to a party downtown, but our ride back to campus bailed.”

  “Mine too,” Alex told them with a nod. “Uh, shall we?” she gestured up the sidewalk in the direction of the dorms. Nicki nodded in agreement and they all started moving again.

  Everyone stopped when a long howl echoed between the large empty campus buildings. “There it is again,” Aiden hissed as he spun around and peered out into the darkness. “That's got to be the fifth one I've heard.”

  Another howl ripped through the night, closer than ever, and Alex felt as if a shard of ice had been thrust into her chest. Gasping for air, she spun around, nearly knocking into Aiden who was looking about with worry himself. Another howl pierced the night only to be joined quickly by another.

  “Oh god there's more than one,” Nicki gasped next to Alex. “What are they?”

  “Wolves,” Alex suggested softly as she stepped backwards towards Nicki, pressing them together.

  “Not around here,” Aiden whispered. “I've never heard of wolves coming so close to the city.”

  “It's got to be a prank right?” Bran added, sounding slightly out of breath, “A trick for Halloween.”

  “We should hurry back to the dorms,” Nicki told them, grabbing Alex's hand and tugging her forward. “Just in case.”

  “Right,” Aiden agreed and they all started walking at a faster pace towards the Administration building.

  Bran moved a bit slower than the rest of them, but they stayed together in a small huddled group. The sounds of Bran's metal brace, the click of Alex and Nicki's heels and their increasing shallow breathing surrounded them. Then a low snarl made them all jump and halt in their places in front of the empty Fine Arts building. Nicki slowly lifted her small flashlight and shined it around the area. They heard something large moving in the darkness, avoiding the beam of light.

  “Oh god,” Nicki breathed, “There's something out here.”

  Growling erupted from the darkness. Someone screamed and they all started to run back the way they had come. Behind them the growling turned into a howl, followed by two more howls and the sounds of something large rushing through the grass after them. Bran gasped in pain next to Alex as he struggled to keep running.

  “The Kittel Building,” Aiden shouted, changing his direction towards one of the campus buildings. “We have to get out of the open!”

  Alex dared not turn around or speak as they rushed for the brick building's main entrance. Nicki sprinted ahead, holding up the skirts of her gown with one hand until she reached the solid wooden doors and tried to pry them open.

  “Locked!” she shouted, turning back to them before screaming.

  Aiden lunged forward and grabbed her hand, pulling Nicki along with them as they followed the buildings walls, hoping to find an open window or doorway with glass they could break. Instead a sharp howl in front of them made them freeze as something moved towards them from the front. Gasping, Alex turned and saw something moving in the darkness behind them.

  “We're surrounded,” she whispered, terror sweeping her entire body.

  Bran grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the wall of the Kittel building and they stumbled towards the Carlson building. Light gleamed out from a lamppost between the two buildings, revealing no doors on the Carlson building they could use and windows well over their heads.

  The snarling grew louder all around them, rumbling through the air like thunder. Beyond the light of the lamppost the darkness itself seemed to be moving, twisting into animalistic shapes. Alex took a small step back, too afraid to breathe. The cold brick of the building pressed into her back contrasting with Bran's warmth as he huddled next to her in shared terror.

  A long canine form stepped into the light of the lamppost, its long legs coming into view slowly. A soft gasp escaped Alex as the creature stepped into the light. Its pale fur shimmered in the light, almost translucent, revealing the bony form of its deep chest and wide shoulders as it took a slow step towards them. Pointed ears rose from its long head, pushed back as the creature growled at them again, exposing long sharp teeth. Its violet eyes flashed dangerously and it stalked towards them with slow deliberate movements. Two more joined it in the light, both growling and snarling as they slowly moved towards them.

  “Oh god,” Nicki whispered, turning her face against Aiden's shoulder.

  The leader of the small pack paused and watched them, seeming to bask in their fear. Alex swallowed, trying to summon up a scream or a shout for help, but was unable to move her lips. Crouching, the canine's muscles tensed and Alex whimpered, gripping Bran's hand in a tight grip.

  The hound leapt forward, teeth bared and long claws stretched out towards Aiden. A scream exploded into the darkness and a flash of light lashed forward, colliding with the hound. There was an animalistic cry as the hound was thrown to the ground, a gaping wound in its side. The light lashed again, a whip of brilliance in the low light, striking another hound. The third hound snarled and turned from them, leaping into the darkness beyond the lamplight. It was thrown back a moment later by the swirl of light, impacting the sidewalk and skidding several feet. As the leader hound rose to its feet, silver blood dripping from its wound and its side dissolving slowly Professor Cornwall stepped into the light of the lamppost.

  Everything froze for a heartbeat. Alex gaped at her Professor in shock. The hound leapt forward, leaving the ground in a burst of speed and shadow. Professor Cornwall lashed her right hand towards it and light burst forth in a graceful arc. They met in an explosion of shadow and light, the swirl of light engulfing the hound which gave a long low cry of agony before dropping to the cold cement.

  Professor Cornwall reached into the pocket of her black overcoat and drew out a knife that glinted dangerously in the light of the lamp. Growls echoed off the walls of the building as the two hounds crept towards the professor, flashing their teeth and
stalking around her.

  “Stay back,” Professor Cornwall ordered calmly, not taking her eyes from the nearest hound.

  It leapt at her and the light whip appeared once again, slashing at the creature, but the second one lunged forward. There was a sudden rumbling in the ground beneath its feet before dirt and grass ripped upwards to grab the creature. A sharp snap made Alex flinch as the hound was pulled to the ground by a twisting rope of grass, shattering its leg bones. A wave of dirt and rock surged up and over the creature's head, crushing the skull as the other hound fell to the cement ensnarled in a pulsing rope of light.

  Professor Yates stepped into the light, joining Professor Cornwall with a quick glance over at the students huddled against the building. With a smooth movement, he drew out a knife similar to Professor Cornwall's and knelt at the creature's side. Alex held her breath, only to flinch when he thrust the knife into the ribs of the hound. She heard a dull cry from under the earth that had crushed the first beast's head. The body shimmered and dissipated like the mist in the sun.

  Without a word to Yates, Cornwall plunged her own knife into the hound at her feet and watched dispassionately as the body dissolved. She did not linger and stepped purposefully towards the pack leader that lay bleeding onto the sidewalk. It snarled at her, snapping at her hand as she reached for it. Showing no fear, Cornwall gripped the beasts head and brought the knife across its throat. Alex watched the blood fade away from the sidewalk along with the body, leaving no sign that it was ever there.

  Yates made a small motion with his hand and the patch of the lawn that had risen up to trap the hound smoothed out and the grass smoothed back out. Turning his attention to them, Yates stepped closer to them and studied them carefully.

  “No injuries,” he observed with a soft smile appearing on his features. “That is good, but we cannot linger. There may be more.”

  Professor Yates nodded to Professor Cornwall and gestured for the four of them to follow him. Aiden and Alex glanced at each other, but then Aiden took a shaking step forward and followed the professors with the others trailing after him into the darkness.

  12

  Changes Wrought

  833 B.C.E. Snowdonia Wales

  Clouds hung low around the mountains as the chill of winter began to settle into the land. Myrddin paid this little mind as he climbed the worn path up the mountain to the lake, his staff softly striking the rocks with every memorized step. A bag over his shoulder clinked softly as the small earthen jars he carried gently shifted as he moved. Stopping, he turned and looked down the mountain at the small village nestled amongst the foothills. From here he could see the small herds that dotted the landscape and the roundhouses huddled close together.

  Much had changed in the year since his mother's death and while it remained a painful memory, Myrddin valued the lesson he had learned that night. Despite his fears, he had taken on the mantel of the priesthood and done his best to keep his people's connection with the Earth strong. He'd traveled throughout the region to meet others in the priesthood and kept the peace despite so many of them knowing what he was. Myrddin shook his head at the stray thought and turned his attention back to the path up the mountain. Yet he couldn't help but think of it. In the past year Cyrridven had taught him much about the Sídhe, stories his mother had dared never tell him and he could understand their worry that one with the blood of a Sídhe held such an important station as a keeper of the connection between the Earth and the people.

  Walking forward, Myrddin passed through the mists that were hanging over the mountain and allowed his feet to guide him. There was no sound on the mountain save the click of his staff against the ground each time he took a step. As the sun rose higher in the morning sky the mist began to disperse just as he reached the crest of rocks that nestled the mountain lake. Carefully, he navigated his way down the slope of the mountain and to the edge of the water.

  The lake was calm as it was every third day when Myrddin made the climb. It was no secret in the village where he went, but all now gave the area a wide berth as none were certain what his business here was. Myrddin often amused himself imagining their reactions during the silent moments in his roundhouse when the absence of his mother weighed most heavily on him. Their avoidance was without a doubt a blessing as a frozen pillar of water stood in the center of the lake with a cauldron of ice resting on it as it had been for a year and day now. Pausing at the edge of the water, Myrddin examined the cauldron with a slight sense of unease. Mist rose out of the shimmering vessel as if it were an ordinary cauldron heated by flames, but he knew this was not the case. The potion that had been brewing for so long was fueled by something he had only gained the slightest understanding of. Magic.

  Setting aside his bag, Myrddin gave himself a moment to study the cauldron at a distance. Cyrridven had explained only that the potion came to her in a vision early in her years in his world, but Myrddin now suffered some doubts. Breathing out, Myrddin raised his staff slightly off the ground and brought it down on the small rocks of the shore with a sharp crack. He repeated the motion twice more and watched as the water in the lake rippled. Once this had frightened and astonished him, but today he simply found himself wishing it did not take so long. Cyrridven appeared in a swirl of water and magic, smiling warmly at him.

  “Good day Merlin,” she greeted pleasantly.

  Merlin was now the only name she called him and in the past year Myrddin had found himself responding to the name more naturally. Myrddin gave her the small bow that had become their custom in the past year, his hand keeping his staff straight.

  “Good day,” he returned as he rose his head up and met her eyes.

  Cyrridven's dark green eyes were warm, but held concern in them. Myrddin believed it was for him, but they never spoke of such things directly. He doubted that they would start today.

  “Is the potion ready?” he questioned, trying to keep his voice steady and leaning forward on his staff slightly with both his hands clasped on the staff near his face. It was a habit that his mother had hated, but it continued to this day.

  Nodding, Cyrridven moved closer to the shore and gave him a careful look. “Are you certain you are prepared, Merlin?”

  “Neither of us really knows what this potion will do to,” Myrddin replied as calmly as he could, “Just that it will 'open me fully to the world', whatever that means,” he added with a slight grumble.

  “I wish I could tell you for certain,” Cyrridven sighed, the water swirling around her faster in her agitation. “But I am not a child of Earth; my connection, my understanding is limited.”

  “Yes,” Myrddin answered, he'd heard this before and gestured towards the cauldron. “Shall we?”

  Cyrridven gave him another searching look, but turned gracefully and drifted over the surface of the lake to the tall pedestal. While she wasn't looking, Myrddin straightened up and took in a deep breath for courage, hoping to stop the slight shake of his hand. Looking up, he saw Cyrridven lift the ice cauldron from the pedestal with a spark of strange light. In an instant, the ice pedestal that had stood for a year on the surface melted away and flowed back into the lake, leaving no trace. He drove his staff into the ground next to him and released it slowly, his hand trembling slightly.

  His eyes were fixed on the small cauldron as Cyrridven brought it to the edge of the lake. It shimmered in the sunlight, the small magical symbols he had learned in the last year etched into the ice around the rim dark with shadows. Taking another breath, Myrddin stepped forward, the water of the lake lapping at the tips of his shoes. He could just see into the cauldron. The long thin rod of ice that they had used to stir the mixture through the last year and a day was waiting for him to use it to collect a few drops of the thick liquid. It had no true color, shifting between muddy brown, spring grass green, stone gray and sky blue as he looked at it.

  “Remember Myrddin,” Cyrridven whispered, breaking the silence that had descended over the mountain. “The first three drops will op
en your spirit, but the rest is devoid of all magic and is a terrible poison.”

  “I'll remember,” Myrddin promised as he carefully reached for the stirring rod. It was cold in his hands, but did not melt or slip as he gently lifted it out of the cauldron. Several large shining drops gleamed and he cautiously brought the rod closer to his left hand. Myrddin held his left hand still and allowed three drops to fall onto his fingers before quickly bringing it to his mouth. He was vaguely aware of shoving the rod back into the cauldron and taking a step back as the droplets hit his tongue.

  They were sweet, far sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. He braced himself, unsure of what to expect, but nothing happened. Looking towards Cyrridven, he saw a look of concern on her own face and she looked down into the cauldron at the remaining liquid which was taking on a reddish color.