The Iron Realm (The Iron Soul Book 1)

by J. M. Briggs

  Slamming on the brakes, Alex turned in her seat to look over her shoulder as the woman vanished into the darkness. A howl sounded in the night and Alex tensed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Cold shivers ran up her body and her chest tightened. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, Alex put her foot on the gas and rolled forward. With a sharp turn of the steering wheel, Alex pulled to the side of the road, her wheels smacking the curb as she came to halt.

  An even colder shudder shook Alex's body and she barely kept her hands on the wheel. Her hands were shaking and every instinct was screaming for her to head for her own home and her stockpile of iron horseshoes. She was almost ready to give in to the voice when movement in the darkness to the left of the car down at the riverside reminded her of the present threat. Alex didn't get out of her car, straining her eyes to see into the darkness. Carefully, she unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her dagger out of her bag, still in its sheathe. There was more movement as a human form stumbled into the light of one of the riverside trail lamps. Moving before her fears could stop her, Alex climbed from the car and ran towards the disturbance. A muffled scream reached her ears, desperate and muted against a gag of some kind. Her feet slipped in the mud and snow that covered the slope down to the water, but Alex kept moving. A sharp aborted cry gave her a burst of speed and she stumbled onto the cement walkway and into the light.

  The sidewalk was mostly covered in dirty snow with bits of dried leaves poking through, but now a vivid stain of red was seeping down towards the water. Frozen, Alex stared at the still form of the woman she had seen who was lying on the ground with blood oozing forth from a wound on her head. Limbs were tangled around each other unnaturally and Alex couldn't see if the woman was breathing. Stunned, she didn't move until a thick high laugh rolled out of the nearby darkness accompanied by gentle whimpers.

  A figure stepped out into the light, its eyes already locked onto Alex. Gasping, Alex stumbled back as she stared in awe and fear at the towering figure before her. The Rider was taller than any man she'd ever seen in person, just over seven feet tall. Golden armor gleamed in the low light and teamed with his pale skin made him seem to glow. A pair of large white horns rose from his head, twisting and curving out into two branches each. Golden rings decorated them and his long white hair was styled in long braids that were spun around the horns. He was not dressed as warrior, despite the armor and weapons, Alex realized. He was dressed in celebration, ready for a party and a good time. The thought made her sick and she trembled on the ground, shivering not from the cold, but from the uncontrollable shudders.

  Luminous purple eyes watched her, taking in her reaction with glee. Thin white lips curved into a smirk and the Rider took another step towards her. Lowering his sword, he reached out a hand covered with a golden gauntlet with vicious looking nail covers visible towards her. She took a reflexive step back which only made the Rider's smile widen. Alex tried to scream, but the Sídhe waved his hand and only a small croaking squeak escaped her mouth as she her throat and lips tingled. Her skin itched and an icy sensation across her mouth made her begin to shiver uncontrollably.

  Stalking forward, the Rider closed the distance between them. Alex's feet slipped in the mud as she tried to get away, but too afraid to take her eyes off of him. The Rider's free hand dropped to his belt where a long golden cord hung coiled around a golden clip. As his long fingers closed around it, the cord pulsed dangerously and an almost crippling shock of cold hit Alex. Spinning away from the Rider, Alex fought her way up the hill, back towards her car, using her hands to gain extra traction on the slick slope.

  There was a sharp crack in the air behind her that nearly made Alex turn back. Pain jolted through her arms and back along with a burst of cold that made her fall to her knees in shock. Trying to move, Alex found her entire left arm and her upper right arm pinned to her sides. She couldn't breathe properly. Looking down in confusion, Alex gasped as she found the glowing cord encircling her upper body. A sharp fast tug from behind pulled Alex off of her knees, sending her rolling down the side of the hill and back towards the Rider. Grunting in pain, Alex tried to maneuver her arms to make the fall less painful as sticks and rocks jostled her body.

  When her brief but painful fall ended, Alex whimpered and looked up. She was at the feet of the Rider who was coiling up excess cord with a satisfied smirk. Breathing shallowly, Alex swallowed and slowly moved the free portion of her right arm towards the bag that was half twisted around her. The Rider didn't notice and studied her face. In a fast movement, he kicked Alex in the ribs and laughed at her muffled cry of pain. Kicking her again, the Síd pulled harshly on the cord, dragging Alex up to her knees. There was a sharp metallic hiss as the Rider sheathed his sword above her.

  “Pretty thing,” he observed, reaching towards Alex and tugging at her blonde hair. “And sensitive to pain.” The Rider moved forward, leaning over Alex and causing the tension in the cord to loosen slightly. “I like that,” the Rider breathed, his face right above Alex's.

  Dread welled up in Alex, but she couldn't move. She could barely breathe, feeling the icy breath of the Sídhe Rider wash over her voice.

  “Do you know how long it's been since I had an iron folk?” the Rider questioned with a dark chuckle, bending down on one knee. His clawed hand running up her left arm slowly, using the sharp points of his nail guards to cut into her coat sleeve. “Felt that boiling heat and danger?” The Rider placed his cold lips against Alex's ear and murmured, “Almost three thousand years. Damn the lords and their orders, I may not even wait to get you back into the tunnels.”

  Fear jolted her into action, the fingers of her right hand slipping into her bag. Gripping the hilt of her dagger, Alex summoned up every fiber of courage and willpower that she possessed and pulled it forth from the bag. Feeling the sudden movement, the Rider pulled back from her sharply. The Rider's eyes widened, but Alex slashed forward. The dagger scratched against the golden armor as it impacted, but Alex kept the movement going. Her hand jolted when the dagger slipped over the rounded decorative neckline of the armor. Pushing forward, Alex put as much force against the dagger as she could manage just as it connected with the smooth white flesh of the Rider.

  There was a dull roar that turned into a gurgle. Alex opened her eyes, not even aware that she had closed them. Silvery blood burst forth, glowing like a shower of light in the lamplights. Falling forward, the Sídhe covered the wound, choking as he struggled to stay on his knees. The cord stopped glowing and loosened around her body. Jumping to her feet, Alex shook off the cord and kept her dagger up, hesitated as the Sídhe struggled in front of her. It looked just human enough to make her pause and her fingers clenched uncertainly around the dagger.

  A snarl erupted from the shadows, a burst of light blasted forth. Alex had only a second to realize that it looked a lot like one of Aiden's fireballs before it collided with her chest, sending her crashing backwards to the ground. Her chest ached and tiny sparks of bright yellow magic were sending jolts of pain down her arms and legs. Every breath was a struggle, but instinct and adrenaline helped Alex shift up onto her elbows despite the pain. Her eyes met the stormy violet eyes of the new Rider and she swallowed back tears of fear.

  The second Rider was dressed in more gold than the first with golden beads and silvery gems woven into his long hair around a golden circlet. In his right hand he held a glowing golden cord that stretch out in the darkness behind him. As he stalked towards Alex, he tugged the cord. There was whimper in the darkness and Alex could see a small shape by the dim light of the cord.

  “No,” she whispered as the Rider tugged on the cord again, already certain of what was at the other end.

  The Rider pulled the cord tighter, winding it to his belt and the small child that had been with the woman came stumbling into view, the infant balanced in its arms. The golden cord was wrapped around one leg, up around the little boy's chest and tight around his neck. His mouth was covered in a translucent golden glow, only allowing sm
all fearful whimpers to escape.

  Stepping up next to his struggling comrade, the Sídhe Rider glared at Alex and his eyes went to the dagger that she was still clutching in her hand. Raising his hand, Alex tried to scream as a bright golden glow gathered in his palm, but the sound was muffled. As the Rider released the ball of light, Alex could only manage a tiny whimper before the world went black.

  30

  Blood on the Tor

  811 B.C.E. Somerset Levels

  Merlin hadn't even glanced her way when Morgana returned to her roundhouse. A potent mixture of anger, shame and fear brewed inside of her, making Morgana hesitant to speak even to her husband. To her relief, a few of the items she had requested had already been brought to the roundhouse and after giving Arto a quick forced smile, Morgana busied herself with slicing vegetables and placing them in the elegant bronze cauldron near the hearth.

  Airril kept the conversation going and light, asking Arto directly about some of the places they had visited while Morgana added more to the cauldron as everything arrived. Other villagers lingered as they delivered their produce to hear about the far northern islands where homes were made completely out of thin stone slabs or the great ancient sites on the western island. Morgana said nothing, but found herself calming in the gentle flow of words from Arto that alternated between exciting memories and boring recollections that needed Merlin to add details. She felt envious of everything that the boy had seen and turned to watch as he presented several small treasures from a bag on his belt. There was an elegantly cast bronze axe head, a carved bone comb from the Roman lands and a bronze armlet. At Airril's urging, he also showed each of the three talismans that hung around his neck. The triskele carved into a smooth rounded stone was his favorite and matched one on Merlin's neck.

  Dinner was one of the more elegant affairs they'd had since winter solstice's traditional slaughter. Their village had not seen many visitors of note so Morgana felt no hesitation in presenting roasted pig and stew to her guests. But it was Arto's eager acceptance of the food and the cheerful way he dug his way through it that brought a real smile back to Morgana face. Airril noticed the change and reached over to gently brush her hand with his before turning his attention back to Merlin.

  A howl interrupted the conversation as dusk was beginning to settle over the village and Morgana froze. Her breath caught in chest and she looked towards Merlin with wide eyes. In her distraction over seeing Arto she had all but dismissed the potential Sídhe threat.

  “Morgana?” Airril questioned, reaching for her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

  Merlin said nothing, setting aside his bowl, picking up his staff and rising from the small chair on which he'd been seated by the hearth. The talismans around his neck jangled softly and he spared Morgana a glance before gesturing to Arto.

  “Are they here for us?” the boy asked as he jumped to his feet. His smile was gone, a serious collected expression taking its place.

  “Possibly,” Merlin answered with a nod as he moved towards the door. “Airril, keep your people close to their homes and stay with the children.”

  “What are you going to do?” Airril demanded as he climbed to his feet, reaching for the bronze sword by his bed that was so rarely used. “Can you truly kill them?”

  “Some of them,” Merlin replied calmly, drawing the animal hide cover of the roundhouse back. He did not look back at them, but added, “Thank you for the meal. It was excellent.”

  Climbing to her feet, Morgana's hand dropped to the bag at her side, clutching the cold disk. She barely noticed Airril move, but the next moment her cloak was thrown over her shoulders and he quickly clasped the brooch.

  “Morgana,” Airril called, finally gaining her attention. “I must go and gather the men to protect the walls, please stay with the women and children.”

  She gave him a small nod, but did not speak or move from her spot by the hearth as he rushed out the doorway. Another long howl made her tense, but she managed a shaky breath. It was closer than before, no doubt closing in on the village with Riders nearby. Her village was on the northern bank of the water and the wooden wall won't stand up for long against the Riders. Morgana did not notice her feet beginning to move, carrying her from the roundhouse and down the hill.

  Airril's alarm had already spread. Women were gathering up their children and rushing up the hill towards Morgana's roundhouse. She grabbed the arm of one of the women and told her to make sure to grab extra blankets. Morgana began to move towards one of the roundhouses to help transport supplies up to her home, but paused. Her eyes were drawn towards the village gate and out into the gathering darkness. The last rays of the sun were fading quickly and soon the only light would be from the moon and the stars.

  Arto was out there, Morgana realized with a twist in her stomach. Merlin had taken a boy out to fight the Sídhe Riders. Maybe he had protected Arto for a few years, but now he was placing him directly in front of the Sídhe. Her hands tightened into fists and Morgana stalked towards the gate, determination and anger rising through her faster and stronger than any rational thought could. Another howl distracted the guards, making them look towards the East and Morgana caught sight of Airril before she slipped through the gate, feeling a tinge of guilt.

  Tightening her cloak around her, Morgana searched the horizon for any sign of Arto and Merlin. Just down the slope of the hill, the marsh water of the valley lapped gently at the shore of the river. A few shallow boats bobbed gently on the water, giving no sense of the danger that was approaching. Wind rushed over the marshland beyond the river, a whistling sound filling the cooling air. Morgana took a slow breath and looked around carefully for Merlin and Arto.

  Another howl howled, the sound echoing down from the tor. Turning sharply, Morgana looked up at the high rock and saw a flash of light, like a torch in the darkness. Without thinking, she began rushing away from the wall and towards the tor. To the east, the moon was rising higher and higher, casting more light across the moor.

  As she reached the tor, Morgana could hear snarling, whimpers and words being carried on the wind. Stumbling forward, Morgana ignored a shiver of cold that rushed down her spine and focused towards the top of the tor where another flash of light illuminated the area. In the distance she could hear the rumbling of hooves and swallowed back the urge to run.

  At last Morgana reached the final slope of the long side of the tor, her chest aching and her legs beginning to shake. Up ahead a pair of hounds were circling Merlin and Arto carefully. The rising moon glinted off of their coats and made their bared teeth gleam. Merlin's staff was raised in front of him as he watched the two hounds carefully. Arto was behind his teacher with too calm an expression for Morgana's taste. Moving forward slowly, she slipped to the right and hoped to pull Arto back from the hounds and the battle. One of the beast howled, throwing its head back just as the other lunged.

  Merlin's staff slammed into the ground with a resounding crack and a spark of bright light. Beneath Morgana's feet she felt the earth rumble for a split second before a burst of rock and mud rose from the ground, catching the Hound around the torso only a foot away from Merlin. The mage made no move to step back or remove his staff from the earth. As the other Hound snarled and began to move, Merlin made a lazy gesture.

  The mound of earth holding the first hound shifted, dropping its weight on the second and binding them both in the rock and mud. More earth rose up to surround them, piling over them and muffling the snarling and gagging cries. Gasping softly, Morgana watched the mound sink back into the earth, taking the hounds into the ground. A moment later the rock and mud became solid once more in front of Merlin and he calmly removed his staff from the ground. He held his palm out in front of him and a small glowing orb of light formed, similar to the one Morgana remembered making all those years ago. Raising it up, Merlin placed it on the top of his staff where it pulsed and made a field of light around the two.

  “Riders are coming,” Arto announced, looking towar
ds the over side of the tor where a long smooth slope would make an easier path for the Riders.

  “Indeed they are,” Merlin replied with a small smile, patting Arto on the shoulder. “What do you think Arto?”

  Arto didn't answer right away and glanced to the side, down towards the moors below. “I'd like to try the protection spell,” he answered a moment later. “My sister lives nearby.”

  “Yes she does,” Merlin agreed slowly, hesitation in his voice. “I am not sure that you are ready for that spell.”

  Hoof beats were growing louder and Morgana forced herself to start moving closer to Arto and Merlin, using the moonlight and the light of Merlin's staff to navigate. Her mind tumbled over what to say to Arto to convince him to leave Merlin; the boy was taking about magic, she had no doubt of that. But if he left now he could settle into a quiet life. He'd never have to be a threat to the Sídhe and they could leave him alone.