The Iron Chalice

by J. M. Briggs

  Morgana shifted and moved towards the doorway before Merlin had even returned the axe to its proper place on the shelves. His hand grasped at the air for his staff, and an irritated grumble escaped him as he nodded to their host and followed Morgana out of the roundhouse with a quick promise to return before it was too late. The sun was setting, making the sky glow with brilliant oranges and darkening reds. Merlin felt a hint of something in the air and wondered if this meeting would be for good or for woe. He was moving slower than he should have been, but a glance towards Morgana reassured him. She was moving slowly too, Cathanáil still held close in her arms. Protected and cherished, making Merlin wonder, for the first time in their long acquaintance, if Morgana might have made a good mother after all. He almost laughed at himself. He was trying to distract his own thoughts and keep the nervousness at bay.

  It was a simple matter to find the right roundhouse. The small yard around the building was well stocked with stacks of wood and lumps of unprocessed iron ore. He paused for a moment to admire the slight reddish hint to the rocks in the light of the dying day, but Morgana coughed and all he could manage was a sheepish smile. With excitement and nervousness churning in his gut, Merlin stepped towards the door, noting that the animal hide covering was pulled back and secured, allowing fresh air inside. Morgana pushed him forward and Merlin almost stumbled over his own feet, wondering why he was so hesitant. Meeting another mage should be a grand moment, but all he could think about was how odd it would feel to train someone other than Arto. He wondered if this young man would be too old to properly learn magic; if he had any idea of what he was doing with the iron or if the knowledge would spur him into taking a foolish action.

  Nonetheless, Merlin moved into the roundhouse and straightened his back. He stopped short just beyond the doorway to give his eyes a moment to adjust to the fiery light of the forge. The small furnace was radiating heat and Merlin inhaled the hot air, letting it warm his entire body. There was a small bed and a dresser set up next to it with a few items on display beyond the hearth like most roundhouses, but the layout was quite different otherwise. A furnace was set into the side of the round house and filled the room with heat. A stack of wood stood at its side ready to feed the glowing orange flames that surrounded the golden coals. He recognized the fire as almost hot enough to work iron with and marveled at the notion of someone working on such a thing at night. The smith’s back was turned to them and he hadn’t noticed them yet as he laid out his tools next to his anvil. Even across the roundhouse in the terrible light, Merlin could see the thick muscles of the man’s back from hours at the forge.

  Merlin coughed and cleared his throat to draw the man’s attention. “Excuse me; terribly sorry to disturb you, but my companion and I have some questions about your work.”

  “Bit late, isn’t it?” a deep, but young sounding voice replied. They sounded more amused than irritated. “Be with you in a moment.”

  “Thank you.” Merlin once again missing his staff as his fingers yearned to drum against something.

  They didn’t have to wait long as they watched the smith rearrange a few things and move some half-finished pieces to the side before he turned to face them. He was a young man with soft brown eyes that glinted almost red in the light of the forge and messy brown hair that had a natural curl to it. His skin was smudged with charcoal, and one long burn mark was visible on his left arm. He smiled at them in welcome even as his eyes darted between them in barely veiled confusion. Merlin stepped forward the rest of the way into the room and met the young man’s eyes with a smile only for the world to fall away.

  The sound of a hammer against iron rang all around him even as the smell of the salty sea air filled his nose and lungs. Merlin could see small hot flames licking at a long piece of metal that was glowing bright orange before him. An anvil hummed beside him with a hammer lying across its top. The hammer began to glow and sounds of the ringing of metal on metal intensified as small bronze colored sparks exploded from the glowing hammer.

  A loud gasp brought Merlin back to reality, but the sound had not come from him or Morgana, who was panting softly and clutching at his shoulder for support. Shaking his head, Merlin raised his eyes to look back at the young man. The smith had taken several steps back and was staring at them both with frightened-looking eyes. One hand moved to grab his hammer which he held protectively at his side even as he swayed. Behind him, the fire crackled dangerously in his forge and Merlin thought for a split second that he saw a flash of fiery orange magic along the boy’s fingers.

  “We mean you no harm,” Merlin said. “You have magic young man. The visions you just saw were the result of our meeting, but it will not happen again. We found you because you have been using magic in your work.” Gesturing towards the stack of iron axe heads near the forge, Merlin offered the young man a smile. “Even if you don’t realize it.”

  “Who are you?” The young man glanced between them as confusion and excitement warred in his eyes.

  “I am Merlin and this is my comrade Morgana.”

  “Uh, hello, then.” He gave them a nervous little smile, but Merlin could see the tension in his shoulders. “I’m Gofiben.”

  “Gofiben,” Merlin repeated with a smile. “It is very nice to meet you, my boy.”

  7

  Video Conference

  It was storming when they found their way back to the small hostel near the train station in Bristol. On the streets the locals were rushing about with their umbrellas, completely content in the rain and the dark night sky.

  “We’ll go and get something,” Lance offered. “Any requests?”

  “Just something edible,” Bran muttered. He adjusted himself on the bed and stretched out of his leg with a pained hiss. “Shit, this was a long day.”

  “Yeah,” Jenny agreed in an exhausted voice, but she straightened up and forced a smile. “Food will help though; Lance and I will be back.”

  “The hostel has a kitchen,” Lance pointed out to her with a small smile. “We could hit a grocery store and make something. Might be tastier than take-out.”

  “Good idea, we’ll ask at the front desk,” Jenny replied with one last look at the others. “We’ll be back soon.”

  Alex nodded absentmindedly as she pulled out her tablet and set it up on the small table. Her fingers seemed to move a little slower as she entered the Wi-Fi password and brought up her email. There were a couple of messages from her parents that she didn’t have the energy for, but after a moment of scrolling, she found what she was looking for.

  “You’ve really got Morgana’s skype information?” Bran asked curiously. “Seriously?”

  “Better than paying for a long distance call.” Alex’s voice wavered nervously. “She sent it to me last year just after school let out.”

  “You two have always been close.” There was a soft expression on his face that Alex couldn’t read. “Maybe that should have been a hint right there.”

  “I doubt she’s gotten along with every lifetime,” Alex said. That odd, sickly feeling that seemed to consume her every time the Iron Soul came up returned. ‘I doubt they’ve always been nice people.”

  Bran gave her a searching look but shrugged in perhaps some kind of agreement. He eased himself off the bed and reached down to grab his shaving kit. “I feel like a bloody mess if you’ll excuse my British,” Bran teased with a small smile. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

  “Someone should keep an eye on the door too,” Nicki said. She was already standing up and rolled her shoulders, grimacing slightly. “So none of the tourists walk in on you talking about magic and fairies.”

  Alex didn’t say anything about how unlikely they were to have a roommate: just before Christmas wasn’t a big tourism season, but she nodded anyway. She looked down at her tablet and quietly got herself set up as they both vanished out the door. With Bran gone to shower and Nicki outside the door, the barracks-style room with its four bunk beds suddenly felt very large. As she type
d in Morgana’s username Alex could swear that the sound of her fingers on the screen echoed. For a moment as the call was trying to connect, Alex wasn’t sure if she wanted Morgana to answer or not. It was either really early there or really late, thanks to the time difference. Then the call connected and the webcam clicked on as Alex licked her lips nervously.

  The video connection wasn’t that good with Morgana’s image flickering every few moments, but Alex couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of relief washing through her at the sight of the older mage. It surprised her really, but Alex pushed it aside to mull over later. A small smile tugged at her lips, and she noted that Morgana was smiling softly at her in return.

  “Alex,” Morgana greeted gently. “How are you doing?”

  “Not so good,” Alex admitted with a sigh as she dispensed with the pleasantries. “I don’t know how long we’ll have privacy here,” she told Morgana quickly. “But first things first; how is Aiden?”

  “No real change. Merlin is staying close by in case Arthur tries something. He is very cross about you leaving Ravenslake. He’s very worried that something will happen to you without us nearby to keep you safe,” Morgana said. Alex couldn’t help but smile a little, recognizing that Morgana was worried too. “But to other matters; tell me everything and I’ll give you what assistance I can.”

  “Well…” Alex struggled to put her thoughts in order. Outside the door, she could hear some laughter and figured that the alcohol was already coming out in the main hostel. The small table she was sitting at suddenly felt tiny and confined. “We went to Glastonbury earlier today, but didn’t find anything.”

  “Glastonbury? I told you to try Wales,” Morgana said. There was a hint of reproach in her voice that made Alex feel like she’d gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar.

  “I know, but we didn’t know where to start and there is a lot of grail mythology associated with King Arthur there! We were hoping that Bran would see something or that we’d learn something or get some ideas from the local sites.”

  “That’s valid I suppose, but Glastonbury’s Arthurian links come from when I lived there.” For a moment there was a wistful expression on Morgana’s face. “Local legends have a way of holding onto grains of truth.”

  “It was your home?” Alex repeated softly. “You and Arto’s?”

  “Mine, but it wasn’t Arto’s home. Like the mythology suggests Arto and I were born in modern day Cornwall, it’s actually why I use that as my current surname. I moved to Glastonbury after my marriage to Airril, and years later Arto used a powerful spell on the area which lingered for a very long time.”

  “A blood spell right?” Alex straightened up, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at hearing about Arto’s life.

  “Indeed.” A suspicious expression took over Morgana’s face. “But I believe you were telling me about what happened today.”

  “Yeah okay. We went up to the Tor, you know to see if it triggered any visions for Bran, but I kept feeling something weird up there. Like something was poking at me or brushing against me. Then we were attacked by these little… I don’t know, pixie creatures or brownies or something.”

  “Pixie? Oh… yes, I think I know what you talking about.” Morgana frowned, making her lines stands out sharply. “But why would they attack you?”

  “They said the Queen ordered them to attack mages.”

  “That doesn’t make sense though Alex,” Morgana argued with wide eyes. “The Sídhe and other creatures from their branch of the Tree of Reality aren’t human and don’t operate or think the exact same way as us, but I can’t understand why they would help her. The creatures that live and hide in our world are descendants of escaped slaves. I remember the sight of them fleeing through the weak tunnels during the last battle when the Sídhe were throwing everything they had at us and took the guards off of them. Why would their descendants simply fall in line with the Queen?”

  Alex didn’t like the question and didn’t have an answer. Morgana was frowning thoughtfully, her eyes slightly glazed over as she stared off into space. Then a moment later she shook her head.

  “Any ideas?” Alex asked hopefully.

  “Nothing comes to mind. It’s obviously some kind of magic, but the exact nature is unknown to me. Perhaps some kind of Sídhe magic that I was never introduced to, that she didn’t trust me with,” Morgana suggested with a hint of bitterness. “It would be like Queen Scáthbás to have some secret weapons at her disposal before making a move against us.”

  “But she knows that I’m alive: she sent them after us!”

  “Did they say mages or the Iron Soul?” Morgana asked.

  “Uh, they said mages, and then that the Queen wanted us dead; they did say that we or maybe I stunk of iron. It really wasn’t specific. We didn’t have much of a chance to chat.”

  Morgana hummed thoughtfully but nodded her understanding. “It’s possible that Queen Scáthbás made a standing order of some kind to kill all mages.”

  “But aren’t we all the mages there are?”

  “Perhaps my instinct is to say that yes, the four of you and Merlin and myself are probably the only living mages in the world. You four were all born in the area that would be the epicenter of the rising levels of magic and were drawn to Ravenslake. That said, it is possible that there could be others, or that the Queen isn’t aware of how unlikely it is that there are more mages and is just being sure, or even whatever magic she used only allowed for one broad order across the whole of the Iron Realm.”

  Alex nibbled at her bottom lip, unsure of what to say in response to that. The idea that there may be other mages was both exciting and worrying. Arthur was some kind of mage and yet he’d been able to use his powers against her. They still didn’t have a good answer for how the hell that was supposed to work. She trusted the others, but another mage would be a whole new set of questions.

  “If there are other mages… would these things be able to find them? What about those other people who use magic through rituals?”

  “Maybe,” Morgana answered cautiously. “But if there are other mages, and that is a big if, then it is unlikely that they’ve been using their magic. Hopefully, the ritual users won’t attract the attention of any of the Sídhe creatures.” Morgana shook her head and cleared her throat. “But as to your search for the Iron Chalice, I’ve been trying to remember more about those days,” Morgana informed her with a sad look. “Unfortunately everything went south all at once, and Merlin and I were left trying to keep things from getting really bad. Your… previous life, Gofiben-”

  “Gofiben?” Alex couldn’t help but laugh, almost tripping over the name as she repeated it. Her own laughter sounded sharp and almost hysterical to her as she brought herself back under control. “Sorry, I’m really tired,” Alex explained as she wiped at her eyes.

  “Gofiben and that was a valid name at the time Alexandra,” Morgana said calmly. “His name actually changed over the years and became associated with the Celtic smith god of the region.”

  “Really?” Her eyes were wide and Alex couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over her face. Clearly, she needed to get some rest.

  “Yes, you inspired a god myth in another life; it wasn’t the only time. We’ll talk about your life as Thor at some point when we have time.”

  “Thor? Seriously, as in the hammer and lightning Thor?”

  “Alex…” Morgana shook her head, but there was a small indulgent smile on her face. “Yes, as in Thor, the Norse God of lightning, thunder, oak trees, war, and protection. Don’t ask about the oak trees, but the hammer that you made and used in that life became famous. It was one of the most powerful magical items ever created; at the time Merlin thought that it might actually rival Cathanáil.”

  “And Merlin is the basis of Odin? The old wise wanderer?”

  “Don’t be silly: Odin is one of the Old Ones as was Thor’s wife Sif. Some deities are really Old Ones, some are inspired by mages and some are outright made up, bu
t let’s focus on the Iron Chalice for now. As I was trying to tell you before, Gofiben lived near the Pembrokeshire Coast, so that area may yield something for you.”

  “Pembrokeshire Coast,” Alex repeated dutifully as she opened a note on her tablet and typed that as best she could. “Anything else?”

  “Not really; the area has changed so I can’t give you details, but Gofiben lived in a small village in the area, though he made the Iron Chalice further north. Going to that area may help you.”

  “Maybe Bran will have a vision,” Alex said optimistically. “He had one in Cardiff; said it was like time got turned back and he was seeing the area as it used to be.”

  “Really?” Morgana asked curiously, bringing a long finger up to tap thoughtfully at the corner of her mouth. “That’s interesting,” she said carefully and Alex was instantly curious.

  “What are you thinking?”