The Iron Bound

by J. M. Briggs

  “But still-”

  “Merlin,” Morgana cut in. “Leave it be; it is Alex’s decision.” That earned a look of surprise from both Alex and Merlin. Morgana sighed softly and shook her head. “I never liked Gwenyvar, that is true, but part of it was that she and Arto got married during the puppy love stage. They cared about each other, but he was gone so much and Gwenyvar…” She sighed and waved a hand dismissively. “The relationship that enabled the old tragedy isn’t relevant now.” Morgana glanced back at Alex with a slightly teasing smile. “Unless our dear Alex begins to have bisexual tendencies.”

  “I think we’re safe.” Alex fought back a blush and the urge to kick Morgana. “Though after Arthur I don’t think I’ll be dating for awhile.”

  “Oh great, we’re all single now,” Aiden muttered.

  “What about Sarah?” Bran asked. He looked over at Aiden in surprise as Nicki flinched.

  “We broke up, three days ago. She, uh, met someone.”

  “Sorry, Aiden.” Bran grimaced in sympathy.

  “It’s fine; she didn’t cheat on me at least. She just wanted to be honest and she didn’t stab me, so for this group, I’m doing great.” He gave Alex an apologetic look for that one and she gave him a small nod in return.

  “So we’re stuck living vicariously through the Jenny and Lance romance.” Nicki groaned, leaning dejectedly against Aiden’s shoulder. “Now that is just sad.”

  “And on this turn of the conversation let us call it a day,” Morgana said. She looked both amused and uneasy at the sudden shift in topic.

  “Indeed,” Merlin said. “Everyone is up to speed on the situation. I’m sorry that we didn’t have better news for you today.”

  “We will keep looking of course.” Morgana stood and picked up Alex’s cold mug. “An answer will present itself in time.”

  “That’s it?” Aiden asked with surprise. Glancing down at the half eaten cookie in his hand, he blinked in confusion. “No training, no pop quizzes on Celtic mythology?”

  “You resume classes tomorrow.” Amusement took over Morgana’s features. “With the… events of your break and the challenge you faced in telling your parents about magic, I suspect that you have not gotten things in order for your classes.”

  “Seems a bit silly to worry about,” Bran said softly.

  “Perhaps, but bear in mind that this war may go on for years or it may be done in months,” Merlin told them in a softer voice. “You need to be prepared for life after magic because once the Sídhe are defeated and our world closed off once again, magic will begin to fade once more.”

  Nodding slowly, Alex drummed her fingers on the armrest. Her mind was spinning a little at those final words. She’d lived almost two decades without magic, but if they ever had a victory complete enough that it went away, what would it be like? Shaking her head, Alex stood up as Aiden and Nicki marched past her towards the door.

  Feeling a twinge of pity for him, Alex considered bringing up Sarah but dismissed the thought. She was pretty sure he’d mentioned it here so it was done and out of the way without a long conversation ensuing. Bran recovered his cane from beside the chair and tossed it in the air, catching it quickly with a small smile before heading for the door. He glanced her way, but Alex found herself lingering for a moment.

  “Alex, are you alright?” Morgana asked. Stepping towards her, Morgana touched her arm lightly.

  “Just a lot in my head,” Alex answered.

  “I am sorry if I upset you.” Merlin shifted over next to Morgana. “You do of course have every right to decide on what roles Lance and Jenny play in your life.”

  “I get it, Merlin,” Alex assured him. She really didn’t want to do this now. “But I watched how much everything affected Jenny. I know she’s sorry about it even now, knowing that Arthur was just using her and Lance as a way to convince us all he was the Iron Soul.”

  She shrugged and glanced towards the doorway where the others were lingering and listening. Nicki grinned as she spotted them and waved one mitten-clad hand towards her before she began pushing the boys out the door. Chuckling, Alex turned her attention back to Morgana as the door shut.

  “Beyond that, I don’t know.” She opened her arms in a wide helpless gesture. “Everything’s been happening really fast. I guess we just have to find the new status quo before any real decisions can be made.”

  “Wise words.” Merlin nodded in resignation. “Please do be careful. Neither Morgana nor I wish to see anything happen to you.”

  “I know,” Alex forced out weakly. There was a strange weight on her shoulders at the warm look in Merlin’s eyes. “But I’ve got to live my life too.”

  Merlin sighed but nodded in understanding. “How did your conversation go with your parents?” he asked tentatively.

  “I told them; I showed them magic and explained things, but honestly I think they’re in shock,” Alex confessed. “We ignored it a lot during Christmas stuff, but every so often they’d ask a question or I’d catch them looking at me funny. I’m kinda surprised they haven’t called asking me if it was a bad dream or joke.”

  “We could speak with them, if you wish,” Morgana said with a glance towards Merlin. “In the past, we have explained things to the Iron Soul’s family.”

  “Yeah, but that was back in the days of superstition.” Alex tried to smile but failed. “I’ll keep that in mind, but they did put up some iron horseshoes, and if it’s okay with you Merlin I’d like to use the forge to make them some daggers.”

  “Of course Alex,” Merlin said. “I’ll have another key made so you can come by whenever you need.”

  “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure that Aiden’s got figuring out an unlocking spell on the agenda.”

  “Knowing that group it will be triggered by the word Alohomora.” Morgana rubbed the skin between her eyes though Alex caught a smile around her hand.

  “Well, they’d never forget it.” Alex barely contained her smile. “But yeah we’ve got a date with the books again to start working on more forms of magic.”

  “Well, we can’t complain that you aren’t creative and working hard,” Merlin said smoothly. He grinned at Morgana, who just shook her head.

  “Is it creativity if they’re taking ideas from books and television?” Morgana countered with a sharp raise of her eyebrow.

  “I think its genre savvy then.” Alex zipped up her coat with a real smile. “This may not be a book or TV show, but no reason not to seek guidance from them.”

  She gave the two older mages a friendly wave as she stepped out the doorway onto the porch. The others were already in the car and waiting for her so Alex didn’t linger any longer. Classes start tomorrow and there was still normal stuff to deal with. Like getting textbooks… yeah, magic had more than complicated her college life. Her free time was all but gone and her now ex-boyfriend had deceived them all and tried to kill her, but at least she hadn’t flunked out yet.

  5

  Nightmares

  The snow was icy on her back. She was so thirsty. Alex could feel her own warm blood seeping between her fingers. Beneath her hands, her stomach was a mess of sliced flesh, torn fabric, and sticky blood. The cold was unbearable, but worse was Arthur looming over her with that horrible mocking grin. His blue eyes were bright with satisfaction, without even a hint of regret or doubt. In his hand was a gleaming sword with a golden hilt covered in blood. Her blood. With his blond hair, square jaw and broad shoulders, he might have looked every inch the hero if she hadn’t known the truth. Unable to bear it, Alex slammed her eyes shut and pressed her hand tighter against the wound.

  Then the cold began to fade away as warmth rolled over her like she’d stepped into the sunlight. She didn’t feel blood on her hands anymore and opened her eyes. Around her was a strange haze, but she sighed in relief. She wasn’t on the shore anymore. It had just been a nightmare. Now that it was over, she recognized the floating sense of a coming dream.

  Alex slowly became aware that she was w
alking down a long and twisting corridor. There were no lights from what she could see, but everything around her was illuminated with some sort of soft glow. The wall was hazy to her, and she struggled to take in the details of what seemed to be an ordinary wooden wall. Every few feet there were doorways that were unmarked, but each door was a little different. One had a wider dark wood frame around it while the next one had a larger doorknob. She suddenly stopped next to one of the doors and reached out to touch the roughly textured dark silver doorknob. It was icy to her touch and she paused for a moment in hesitation before turning it. A strange wave of magic rushed over her and Alex slammed her eyes shut.

  The smell of the ocean was the first thing she was truly aware of as Alex opened her eyes and looked around. The rush of salt water with a strange hint of something musty and almost rotten hit her extra hard as she took in her surroundings with mild surprise. She giggled nervously to herself as the haze of the strange corridor faded away and she wondered what was going to happen now. Alex blinked as the dream became clearer, and looked around in interest. In a strange variation, she was on the deck of an old-fashioned sailing vessel.

  Looking up, Alex let the salty wind catch her hair and gazed at the tall double masts with billowing cloth sails. It was right out of a movie and she couldn’t help but grin. There were small flags perched high at the top of the masts above the tiny crow’s nest. Shielding her eyes, Alex scanned the ship for anything else interesting and caught sight of a couple of sailors up along the mast. She could hear the crashing of the waves against the wood of the ship and feel the swaying of the vessel, but suddenly realized that her body was moving easily with it. A grin split her face as Alex turned to look at the large boat steering wheel behind her. She couldn’t remember what it was called though it teased at her memory.

  There was a sailor dressed in loose clothing with a bandana on his head. He looked bored and half slouched against the wheel until he caught her eyes on him. Then he straightened up and stared past her towards the horizon with a nervous twitch beside his eye. Turning away from him, she directed her eyes back across the main lower deck and took in the details. One of the sailors was cleaning the deck near a large grate that led to the hold. Another was checking a series of ropes secured along the mast that Alex was sure had some sort of technical name, though she didn’t know it. Frowning slightly, she marveled at the detail of the ship. She’d seen old ships like this in movies, but everywhere she looked the details were crisp and clear. Far more than she thought her hazy memory of movies would permit.

  The wind faded a bit, going from the strong constant blast to a softer ruffle against the sails. Alex brushed back her hair and breathed in again. She gagged and coughed, stumbling backward against a wooden railing. The stench of piss and rot hung across the deck like a fog without the wind to carry it away. A few of the sailors paused and grumbled, moving to the sides of the ship, but they didn’t seem alarmed by the smell wafting up. Alex stared at them in shock as the smell filled her nose and made her eyes begin to water.

  Something rippled up her arms like a cold mist pulling up her hairs. Her stomach turned and she could taste bile seeping into her mouth. Shivering, Alex stared at the cargo hold opening as more of the foul smell poured out. From below she could hear soft, pained, and frightened voices. The stink of rot and bodily fluids caused a rush of fear that made her stumble back as her throat closed.

  The creeping feeling of a dream turning into a nightmare hit Alex square in the chest, making her body tense. Suddenly she felt pinned to place. The voices below grew a little stronger for a moment before one of the sailors shouted vicious words down into the hold, making them fall silent. They were human then; able to understand an order for silence. A strange metallic sound of soft clinks echoed up onto the deck, like a chain moving. The voices softened to the point of fading away.

  But the smell lingered even as the wind picked up again. Alex stared at the hold grating, her ears searching against her will for a sound. She was suddenly aware of the heat that even the wind offered only a little comfort from. The groans were becoming louder, and a horrible suspicion was beginning to push at the back of Alex’s head. But it made no sense; why would she be dreaming of a prison ship?

  “Captain!” one of the sailors with rotting teeth called over to her.

  Her eyes snapped open, and Alex peered across her room at the back of her desk chair. There was only the hint of blue light from her laptop’s power strip in the dark room. Licking her lips, Alex inhaled slowly to calm her frantic heart. She sat up cautiously and looked around her room. It had been just a dream, but then again it had been something so very real and ominous. Alex had a sense of dread, but the reason why was slipping away

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Alex swung her legs out of bed and stood up. She swayed for a moment as her feet protested her sudden rise. There was no desire to stay in bed: the thought of returning to that dream made her ill. Alex scrambled for her desk lamp. With a soft click, her room gained some light and Alex blinked her eyes even as her hands fumbled for a notepad in the top drawer of her desk. She collapsed into her desk chair and started writing down the dream.

  There wasn’t much: an old large sailing ship, a terrible smell, people in the hold and a sense of absolute dread. Alex shoved it to the side and rubbed her temple. What was she hoping to gain from this? It was probably just a dream. Alex shook her head but made a few more notes about the details of the ship before they slipped away. Pushing the notebook away, Alex slumped back in her chair and drummed her fingers on the edge of her desk.

  She felt wide awake now but didn’t dare look at the clock on her phone or turn the computer back on. Alex was pretty sure that she’d be disappointed if she did so. Instead, she pushed her chair back and stood up, grabbing the paperback copy of Beowulf for her British Literature class. She pulled on her robe over the pajama bottoms and tank top she wore before slipping out of her room. She paused in front of Nicki’s bedroom door and listened for a moment, but her roommate was silent. Sighing softly, Alex wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or not.

  Alex moved out to the living room and groped around in the darkness for a moment before she found the light switch, nearly stubbing her bare toes on Nicki’s hat rack by the door. The layout was great if you were coming into the dark room from the hall, but less so when coming out of a bedroom at night. Alex sat down in the armchair and pulled her legs up with her. She tugged the spare blanket over her lap and snuggled down with the book in her lap. For a moment she just sat quietly and listened. Everything was still with only a faint sound of the wind outside the window.

  Rubbing her eyes, Alex opened up Beowulf and easily found the place she’d left off at. They’d only just gotten started with the old epic poem. For a moment she smiled as she considered the irony of Merlin teaching Beowulf as one of the oldest examples of British literature when he was in fact much older than it.

  “He should write a book of old legends and stories,” Alex said out loud. It was a silly attempt to dispel the lingering nervousness she was feeling, but it helped a bit. “He could pass it off as a gritty reimagining of the oldest stories.”

  Alex wondered for a moment it Merlin or Morgana had ever been tempted to make records of their lives. Had either of them ever kept any kind of journal? Ever attempted to draw a long-deceased loved one? Her fingers tugged nervously at the pages of the book and Alex shook her head. It was never pleasant speculating on the three thousand year lifespans of the two older mages. There had been plenty of hints over the years that the stories would not be pleasant.

  She turned her attention to the next passage of the poem, but she couldn’t focus on the words. Instead, a nagging little voice in her head suggested that Beowulf might be based on a real person: a real hero that lived long ago. Closing her eyes, Alex breathed out slowly and sternly reminded herself that assuming that because Arthur was based on the real ancient hero Arto that other heroes were real would be a mistake. She’d alrea
dy been informed rather bluntly that her Welsh life who had made the Iron Chalice had become a god in Celtic mythology and that Thor had in fact been one of her past lives.

  “If I was Beowulf too I’m going to kill Merlin,” Alex grumbled. The first stirrings of a headache tingled at the base of her skull.

  She opened her eyes and started skimming through the words again, trying to take them in. Still, the sense that she was forgetting something remained and distracted her, like a bad itch when trying to fall asleep. Without meaning to, she began to tap her foot against the armrest of the chair and drummed her fingers on the cover of the book while flipping between pages.

  “Alex?” a sleepy voice called softly from the hallway.

  Nicki half stumbled into the living room, though her eyes were wide and alert as she took Alex in and scanned the room. A moment later Nicki relaxed slightly and leaned sleepily against the wall. Her long red hair was in two braids, and combined with her overly large fuzzy blue pajamas she looked far more like a preteen than a powerful mage who could kill you with ice shards or drown you. Nicki was trying to look nonchalant, but it didn’t fool Alex, who lowered her face slightly at being caught. Neither of them said anything for a moment until Nicki huffed in impatience.