by J. M. Briggs
Merlin and Morgana looked at each other, their eyes locking and for a second Jenny could almost feel the silent conversation occurring. She wondered if their magic let them use some form of telepathy or if it was just three thousand years of being together.
“It’s complicated,” Morgana finally said. “We care to a certain extent, but in the end Alex… well, I’m afraid that Merlin and I are just a little old to care that much.” Morgana stared into her teacup. “It weighs on you. Those creatures are very unfortunate of course, but we will always value the lives of mages more.”
“What about the blood spell?” Alex asked after a quiet moment. “The one that I activated in Glastonbury? Can you teach it to me so that I can at least protect my parents?”
“That spell is very dangerous.” Merlin’s voice was so serious that Jenny swore the temperature in the room had dropped. “Arto was trained by me for years before he ever used that spell. It is beyond difficult to control, Alex.”
“And yet Bran is right,” Alex said. “Right now we’re just in a holding pattern. We’re letting Arthur and Scáthbás throw innocent creatures at us while they search for Cathanáil and do who knows what else. We aren’t protecting the world like this. Sure we needed some time to heal from Arthur’s betrayal and process it all, but not all of us are immortal. I’m the Iron Soul, and I need to learn how to do what I was born for.”
Jenny set down her fork while silence reigned around the table and everyone waited with baited breath for Merlin and Morgana’s reply. She dropped her hand out of sight voice below the table and found Alex’s softly shaking hand. Wrapping her fingers around her friend’s hand, Jenny kept her face as neutral as possible and focused her eyes on her hotcake.
“Merlin,” Morgana said, breaking the silence. “Teach her the spell.”
The elder man exhaled slowly, drawing Jenny’s gaze, but then he nodded. Alex’s hand tightened around hers and Jenny barely kept back a smile. Maybe she wasn’t a mage, but as she heard a small sigh of relief from Alex she felt her own chest swell with pride. The only problem was that Alex didn’t seem in a hurry to return her right hand to her. It was more than three minutes later during which she ate her bacon as the only finger food on her plate before Alex released her hand. Still, Jenny could live with that.
20
Blood Spell
Blood trickled down her palm and off the tips of her fingers, the droplets rhythmically hitting the ground. Aiden had melted a patch of snow with a fireball, leaving her with a bare if damp space to work in. Alex turned slowly and kept her arm outstretched so the blood droplets were creating a circle around her. The weight of Merlin’s gaze was heavy on her back, but she kept up the slow turn until she was once again facing him.
In the corner of her eye, Alex caught Nicki curling her nose up at the sight of the blood before the redhead vanished back around the house. Alex understood: there was something both beautiful and creepy about watching blood flow, and it was made even weirder by it being your own. Only last year the sight of blood had made her squeamish, but now it didn’t seem to matter.
She cautiously pushed her magic into the blood, letting it flow out of her with every drop and supercharge the iron contained within it. The droplets pulsed with a soft glow that only brightened as it splashed on the ground, and Alex struggled to focus on the present as her mind kept jumping back to Glastonbury. She could remember the rush of magic around them when her blood had reactivated the ancient blood ward laid by the first Iron Soul.
Her distraction was a mistake and Alex gasped as she felt the magic begin to slip. In her mind’s eye, she saw the flares of magic that had been in Glastonbury and her magic rushed to replicate it. Alex grabbed at her magic and pulled it back fiercely as it began to slip away like water. It resisted her for a moment; the thrum of the earth beneath her feet pulled on her magic and beckoned it to return from whence it came.
Closing her eyes tightly, Alex fought back the wave of panic rising through her chest and eased her own frantic pull on her magic. Instead, she focused on her own heartbeat, willing the magic to gather in her own chest. For a moment she feared it had failed but then the magic slowly began to shift. The flare of power in her chest grew and the tug of the earth faded away. Stumbling back, Alex clutched her hand against her chest, completely ignoring the blood she was smearing on the outside of her jacket. The wind whipped around her and sent her hair flying around her face. Relief gathered in her chest like an expanding balloon and she took another long shaky breath.
“Easy,” Merlin said. Alex became aware of the older mage holding her shoulders carefully. “That was a good try Alex. Just breathe now.”
“That was-”
“I know,” Merlin assured her. “I know. You’re alright Alex; you regained control.”
She certainly didn’t feel that was the case, but Alex inhaled and exhaled slowly. She closed her eyes and focused on the beat of her own heart and the thrum of her magic beneath her skin. Without a word to Merlin, Alex tried to send her senses outward beyond her body. As she felt a whisper of magic react to her silent call, Alex opened her eyes and smiled as she spotted soft shimmers of light in the air. For a moment she hesitated, feeling a hint of fear at the notion of trying this without Cathanáil, but the ache in her chest and the burning in her lungs made the decision for her.
She pulled at the magic flickers in the air and almost smiled as they swirled towards her, turning into long threads of energy. Focusing on the flickers, Alex willed her own magic to gather up them up. Extending her hand, Alex braced herself as the first little spark of dull light touched her finger. It remained its neutral dull white for a moment before turning a dark silver color. Then it vanished into her skin, melting into her flesh as a jolt of energy shot up her arm. Alex felt the tingling in her arm growing stronger and stronger.
It quickly became too much as the dark silver magic spun into an orb in front of her, and Alex heard a sharp intake of breath from Merlin. She ignored him and pushed the magic away as the rattling in her bones became too much. Her skin felt raw like she’d been holding her hand over a hot surface, and Alex felt more than saw the thread between the orb and her hand break.
The magic lingered in the air before her as Alex caught her breath and fought to stay still. The energy thrumming beneath her skin made her want to run a few miles or jump some hurdles. Her lungs felt a bit raw though like she’d already been running for at least an hour, aching even more than they did after a soccer game.
“Have to practice that a bit more,” Alex choked out as she tried to slow her slight panting.
“Alex…” Merlin started to say, worry echoing in his voice.
“I think….” She paused to consider how to best explain what she was feeling. “I think that I’m gathering up the leftover magic in the air from the other’s spells.” Alex licked her lips and risked a glance in Merlin’s direction. “It’s a bit difficult to control, but I can sort of absorb the power or reuse it, like I did in the tunnels that first time, except not just catching immediate magic in the air.”
“Your power is remarkable.” Merlin was thoughtfully watching her.
Alex held back a smile as the magic settled into her bones and eased the earlier ache. Merlin already was looking uncertain and Alex didn’t think that her bouncing back so quickly would help matters. She turned her attention back to the dark silver orb and watched it curiously as some of the magic slowly dissipated off of it. Part of her wondered just how long the energy would remain like this, just waiting for her to use it, but she dismissed the thought. This wasn’t the time.
Instead, she brought a hand back up to the orb and carefully brushed her fingers over it. The magic sparked beneath her fingertips and she could feel it barely connecting with her own internal magic. It was an odd sensation, and she stood there silently trying to take stock of it. She did smile at the realization that she only pulled the magic into her if she wanted to, otherwise, it seemed to just… linger for her to use.
“Oh..., right,” Alex said. She licked her lips and swallowed, suddenly realizing how dry her mouth felt. A hand on her arm guided her over to the bench on the side of the yard as her feet crunched in the snow. “So, how strong can I make the blood protection?” Alex asked. “I mean, what sort of limitations does it have? It was really impressive in Glastonbury, but you didn’t place them all across England.”
“For starters, you have just experienced how difficult it is to control the blood spell,” Merlin said. “As for the power, it depends on the power the mage is able to pour into their blood,” Merlin explained in a thick voice. “Arto became very… skilled at this spell, and didn’t have to spill much of his own blood. My mother, on the other hand, slit her own wrist to get enough blood and even then had to use my magic to make it work.”
Freezing, Alex’s mind tripped over itself before trying to find some point of reference again. She’d never heard Merlin talk about any family. Morgana had mentioned her brother plenty of times and her long-dead husband, but she couldn’t remember Merlin ever speaking of his own family. Part of her had almost assumed that he was a creation of the Iron Realm somehow and he’s sprung out of the ground.
“It takes almost perfect concentration Alex. Your magic tries to slip away from you and return to the earth when you cast this spell,” Merlin continued, cutting into her confused thoughts. “Just like healing magic it is very easy to lose control. And as you know, if you use too much magic you can die.”
Alex kept her eyes focused on Merlin as she nodded and did not look over at Aiden. “We have the Iron Chalice now.” Alex gave him a small forced smile.
“Indeed, but I wonder what limitations the Iron Chalice might have.” Merlin leaned back in his seat. “In truth, we need to test it: we need to learn how long it can go without being charged by your magic. If it needs to be charged by you then it can never be used to save you, only others.” Merlin hummed softly and nodded to himself. “That would fit Gofiben’s character and power. He was a good lad: a bit simple compared to other incarnations, but compassionate.”
“When you say simple…?”
“Oh, he was intelligent enough,” Merlin chuckled. “But he was straightforward and calm. Honestly, traits that I’ve wished the other incarnations had. Then again I suppose had he lived longer and had I known him better, I might remember him differently.”
“Do you have a favorite?” Alex asked. “Other than Arto I mean?”
“A favorite?” Merlin repeated cautiously, giving her a searching look. “I try not to. Each Iron Soul is distinct and many come from different cultures. Arto and I may have been a generation or two apart but we grew up in the same culture and the same area. A comparison isn’t really fair.”
“That’s evading the question,” Alex said with a smile. “Come on Merlin; I’ll even tell you outright to remove me from the equation. Was it Thor?”
“Thor? Goodness no. Thor was a good man, but impulsive and arrogant. Didn’t know what he was doing or why half the time, if that.” Merlin laughed fondly. “Well, if I really had to pick a favorite, and keep in mind of course that this removes you, Arto and those Iron Souls that I didn’t interact with because magic was so low… maybe Lokpal.”
“Lokpal?”
“Around 620 B.C.E. in India. He was an intelligent young man and was unafraid to challenge Morgana and I. He is the reason we don’t have to worry about the demons in India much. The Old Ones who make up the Hindu Pantheon keep an eye on them for us in part due to Lokpal’s actions. He was a gifted young man.” Merlin paused and looked towards Alex with a smile and added, “He didn’t quite see it either.”
“See what?” Alex asked even as a suspicion of exactly what Merlin was referring to crept up on her.
“How capable he was as the Iron Soul,” Merlin said affectionately. “You’ve recovered brilliantly from a terrible betrayal Alex. You rallied to save Aiden and you’re focusing on expanding the scope of your natural talent.”
“I’m not... it still bothers me.”
“Of course it does. You’re human; I’d be worried if you just brushed it to the side.” Merlin’s tone softened. “I have nightmares sometimes of the things I’ve seen, and not all of it was magical. I know Morgana does as well. That doesn’t make you weak.”
Swallowing, Alex decided against trying to say something clever or witty. Merlin would see right through it and give her that look. It was odd to imagine that three thousand years ago he’d probably given Arto the exact same look.
“I want to try again,” Alex said, earning her a worried look from Merlin. He pointedly looked at her wrapped hand. “I’ll be fine. Practice is important, and if I’m going to use the spell in Spokane-”
“Spokane is very large,” Merlin cautioned her. “It is almost 60 square miles. And the blood protection spell isn’t absolute after its first casting. It weakens the Sídhe, but doesn’t always destroy them.”
“Are there other protection spells?” Alex met his gaze evenly. “If there are other options Merlin then please let’s look at those too. But Arthur could easily go after my parents. He killed Arto’s father after all and Uther raised him.”
“Uthyrn,” Merlin corrected. Alex almost rolled her eyes at him. “Well the blood spell will keep Sídhe creatures from the area, but it won’t hide your parents. Arthur will still know they’re there.”
“Well we need to try something,” Alex insisted, glaring at the man. “I know to you and Morgana my family may not be all that important but-”
“They are important Alex,” Merlin cut in with a sad expression. “We do know that. and while we are prone to worrying about you much more… we do understand how important love and support is to life. Neither of us wishes to see you lose that.” He smiled at her, his expression still touched with sorrow. “But I’m sure your parents wouldn’t want you risking yourself for them.”
“No,” Alex agreed a bit begrudgingly. “But I have brothers to worry about too.”
Merlin made a face and looked towards Morgana’s house with a small grimace. Alex almost laughed at the expression and wondered if Merlin might not be a little frightened of Morgana. Then again she knew from experience the odd way that the older mages were protective of her.
“I’m fine,” Alex said with a little smile. “Just got a bunch of energy and you’ll be healing my hand later. If you want we can even go to your house and use the Iron Chalice.”
“Your hand has got to be hurting.” Merlin turned his attention back to her.
“It just stings,” Alex admitted. In truth, it was worse than simply stinging. “I’m getting used to ignoring it.”
He gave her a long look that Alex wasn’t sure how to translate as he reached for her hand. Alex stayed still and Merlin carefully lifted the bandage and looked down at the cut. Blood was still oozing out of it and Alex watched the thick red liquid with a strange fascination. After Arthur had held her and harvested vials of her blood she supposed that she should feel repulsed, and yet as she caught the faint hint of iron she actually felt reassured.
“I’m sorry,” Merlin suddenly said pulling her attention back to him.
“Sorry?”
“I am sorry Alex,” Merlin tried again with a slight frown. “I know that you don’t think that I see you, but I do. You are far more capable than you think you are.”
Swallowing, Alex struggled for the right thing to say. “I’m not sure I’m really cut out to be the Iron Soul,” she whispered, lowering her eyes.
&nb
sp; “It doesn’t work that way,” Merlin chuckled. “You were born with that soul, and thus you are the Iron Soul. There isn’t any choosing that goes into it. You were born and you are.”
“Seems like a rubbish system,” Alex muttered. “Not as bad as pulling a sword out of a stone, but bad.”
“I’m actually rather fond of that part of the story myself,” Merlin said. “It came from how we used to cast bronze swords: we used stone molds.”
“Stone molds? Really?” Alex looked up at him in surprise. “That’s… neat I suppose. So when you made a sword you literally pulled it from a stone.”
“Indeed.” Merlin chuckled as his shoulders relaxed. “I still remember my first successful sword. I was nervous because the last time I’d tried charcoal had gotten into the mold and compromised the cooling bronze. I spent many hours polishing and sharpening that blade.”