by J. M. Briggs
She inhaled, but this time a rush of salty sea air with a hint of seaweed hit her tongue. She opened her eyes and looked around as she found herself not on the deck of the ship, but rather a small room. Beneath her, Alex could feel the gentle rocking of the ship and it rolled across the waves. A small port window was open across the room from her and Alex breathed in again, almost jumping in surprise when she felt her body breath in time with her.
26
Darkness Below
Excitement, nerves, and terror all filled Alex with the urge to jump around frantically until she was exhausted. Instead, she took another breath and again felt the body breathe with her. She tried moving her fingers, but there was only a faint twitch. Still, a rush of excitement rose through her chest. She might not yet be able to control the body, but she at least had a little influence now. The sense of excitement was short lived as she moved without any control towards the desk.
With a burst of desperation, Alex made the body stumble as she tried to take over the speed, but was unable to. Grumbling softly in her own mind, Alex had to once again concede that she was mostly along for the ride. As her eyes swept through the small, but comfortable looking captain’s cabin Alex reminded herself that she wouldn’t be back here if it wasn’t important. She’d been haunted by this dream for weeks and now Bran and her combined magic had sent her back. There was something she had to learn here.
Large hands with small scars scattered over the flesh reached out for the bottle of wine. Alex watched the fingers move, noting that the pinkie on the left hand was completely gone with only a stump left. The wine hit her tongue and Alex tried once more to take control as a mirror in the corner of the eye caught her attention. At first, nothing happened, but then as the wine glass was drained she leaned forward.
She only caught a brief flash of the reflection in the mirror, but it was enough to make Alex’s heart thunder in her chest. It was a middle-aged face with a cruel sneer seemingly fixed into place. The eyes were dark and unfeeling, the nose was rather broad and long and the jaw was strong and square. It was an unforgiving face that in another life might have been reasonably attractive. A call from on deck broke whatever control she had as they turned and headed for the doorway. Confusion swept over Alex, uncertainty for what was happening and why as she stalked out of the cabin and onto the deck.
One of the crewmen glanced towards her and Alex tried to turn away. Instead, she felt her eyes narrow and watched the man scurry away. A wave of satisfaction flashed in her chest and Alex shoved the feeling down, not wanting any part of it. Something in her chest flared and Alex gasped, feeling the thick lips move in time with her. It took her a moment to recognize the warm glow growing in her chest and once she did she just stood there in stunned silence.
Her magic was somehow reacting, though it felt a little odd like it was spread too thin or was a few degrees too cold in her chest. Still, it was familiar enough that she tugged at it. Something inside stretched painfully at the attempt. The world went fuzzy around her: the crewmen seemed to slow down and all the sounds and smells became muted. Alex was certain that she was waking up, but then the ship snapped back into place around her.
Confusion took over as Alex could still feel the thrum of her magic pulsing through her. It felt better now, more correct as strange as that thought was. She stretched her fingers out and gasped as she suddenly realized what she was doing. Completely ignoring a nearby crewmember, Alex raised her hand up to her face and smiled slightly as it did as she wanted. The sight of the unfamiliar hand shocked her for a moment, but Alex pushed it aside. This wasn’t the time for another breakdown.
Slowly she became aware that the crew was watching her uncertainly. She wondered how her odd behavior was affecting them. Part of her had been sure that she was just replaying a memory, but now the line between memory and dream was becoming blurred. Giving a sharp look to one of the nearest crewmen, Alex inwardly grimaced as he slouched back and lowered his eyes.
There was an undercurrent on the ship that Alex didn’t fully understand. In the back of her mind, she knew that this was a slave ship and that the sort of men who did this work would be made of harder stuff than her, but there was still something. It was like a faint scent on the air that you couldn’t place or a name that you just couldn’t think of when you needed it. The longer she thought about it the worse the feeling of wrongness became, and Alex forced herself to move forward.
Alex descended the stairs, noting the odd stride of this body and trying not to think about the fact she was suddenly a man too hard. It was a challenge, but as the hatch into the hold came into view and that strange sick feeling intensified she was quickly distracted. Alex waited to wake up, waited for something to stop her as she marched to the entry, but the dream remained intact. She stopped at the top of the metal grate and looked down uneasily. After all the talk about this being important and necessary and getting Bran’s help, there was nothing she wanted less than to go down there.
“Going below Captain?” Alex nodded in reply, not trusting herself to speak. “They’re in the middle of feeding,” the voice explained. A smaller crewman stepped into view and pulled the metal grill off to the side.
There was a small wooden staircase leading below, and a faint glow of lanterns that didn’t make her feel any better. Nonetheless, she forced one foot in front of the other and carefully descended into the hold. She was hit by a horrible wall of stench that almost knocked her over. It had been present on deck, but the salty wind had apparently done a fine job of clearing it away. Here it was fresh, thick and threatening to swallow her up.
That was until her eyes finally focused on where she was and what was around her. It was a dark sea of people, all crammed together in tiny rows that left only a tiny sliver of a pathway for the crew to move in. Long wooden structures rather like bunk beds were built into the sides of the ship with more slaves lying crammed into the small extra layer it created. Alex desperately wanted to drop her eyes and thankfully a moment later her eyes did indeed lower away from the people. Below her feet was a filthy deck awash in human waste that threatened to choke her. The heat was unbearable: the hold felt like it was baking them all with each torturous passing second.
Then she realized that it had gone silent in the hold. The sounds of crying and the soft voices that she’d heard above were suddenly gone. Everything had gone still the moment she’d climbed down, and a sense of dread washed through Alex. Her eyes turned up again against her will, her emotions weakening her already limited control. Stepping forward, she moved into the tiny pathway amongst the rows of crowded slaves and looked at a long chain that ran down the center of the ship. Dozens of collars and shackles were attached to it, looping around to keep the slaves in place. The long chain was wound through dozens of heavy metal rungs. Alex focused on it, trying desperately to ignore the smell and the soft moaning of the slaves. It shimmered with black sparks of magic that filled her with dread.
Looking at it caused her head to ache as a rush of something very strange and wrong washed over her. It crept over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Closing her eyes, Alex willed the sudden headache away and gave herself a moment. Around her, the roll of the ship continued and Alex was struck by a hint of alarm that the pain hadn’t woken her up. Opening her eyes, she forced herself to keep examining the hold though she avoided looking at the long chain though she kept seeing small flashes of light in the corner of her eye.
Crewmen were walking around amongst the slaves in the tiny aisles, completely calm and seemingly unaffected. Alex watched in horrified fascination as one of them shoved a strange fat tube into one of the slave’s mouths and squeezed the tube until thick a paste like substance dribbled out. They were feeding them, Alex realized with a turn of her stomach that made her want to run back on deck. She dropped her eyes. Her knees buckled beneath her and threatened to send her falling into the layer of human waste under her feet.
Alex let the world fall away and instead tried to f
ocus her thoughts on the magic she’d seen in that chain. Something was nagging at her, but it was difficult to overcome the horror clawing at her chest. Tears stung at her eyes, but Alex knew this wasn’t the time. She had to focus, had to figure it out, but she just wasn’t sure how to even begin. Finally, she raised her eyes and let herself look at one of the slaves. It was a large strong man with a pronounced nose, but his eyes were downcast. All of them were in fact. None of the hundreds of bodies packed into the cargo hold were looking at her. She waited and was hit by the stench of human waste, dried sweat and rot once more.
“Hey,” Alex called, but another voice echoed through the hull. It was deep with an accent to it that sounded a bit English, but she wasn’t sure. Still, none of them looked up at her. “Look at me,” Alex tried once again; grimacing at the order came out in the same masculine voice.
They all shifted their heads and looked up at her. Their eyes were glazed and half dead, but worst of all was that the long chain running down the rows was glowing an ugly black color. She could see the shimmer of magic radiating off of it and tiny dark threads connecting the chained slaves to it. Alex’s stomach turned and she struggled for air as she stumbled back from them. The order not to look at her died on the tongue as they just stared at her and waited for the next command. The wrongness hit her hard in the chest, sending Alex stumbling back. A crewmember called something to her, but she didn’t hear and did not reply.
Her eyes dropped back to the chain and she forced herself to look at it. The awful feeling crept up her body again, making her shiver. For a moment she felt it brush against her magic and her own power retreated, but just for a split second before it grabbed onto the oily feeling. Gasping for air, Alex was hit with a wave of vertigo as the magics blended. It was her magic seeping into her and yet it wasn’t. Somehow, someway in this low magic environment, in a time period with so little magic that Merlin and Morgana hadn’t even bothered to find this incarnation he had used magic.
The chain. It hit her all at once. She’d heard the rattle of a chain before, somehow in the back of her mind. One of the Sídhe descendants had mentioned a chain and yet she only now understood. Somehow this incarnation driven by his lust for control and willingness to buy and sell human beings had created a magical iron artifact.
All the air rushed out of Alex or whoever’s lungs. She felt dizzy and found herself suddenly questioning if you could faint in a dream. But this wasn’t really a dream, was it? Reaching to the side, Alex gripped one of the support beams of the slave racks. Her eyes met those of a young woman chained by a collar on her neck and the sense of weakness returned tenfold.
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered, but the thick male voice seemed to stumble over the words.
A pain in her gut nearly made her double over as if someone had kicked her. Alex tightened her grip on the support and looked back at the iron chain. Taking a slow step forward, she released her grip on the wood and forced herself to examine the chain. The sight of it felt wrong and she was struck once again by the desire to look away. Fighting against the urge, she knelt down, ignoring a question from one of the crewmen and studied the thing carefully.
The first thing she noticed was that the main chain wasn’t really all that long, only a few feet and it was this section that contained most of the dark glow. However, the collars and other lengths of chain were connected to this master chain and small ripples of magic were traveling from the main chain and through the iron of the other chains to the poor slaves. Alex wasn’t sure if it was a relief to know that this dark Iron Soul artifact was that small or if that worried her.
Hesitantly, Alex reached out for the chain, ignoring the sight of the wrong hands. Her first thought was that the metal was cold unlike the warmth that Cathanáil and the Iron Chalice had carried to her when active. Distantly she wondered if even the magic itself knew that the creation of this had been wrong and twisted. It sparked under her fingertip and there was a startled gasp throughout the hold. The chain tugged on her magic and Alex pulled her hand back sharply even as she felt some of her magic slip into the cold metal.
Standing up, Alex distanced herself from the chain. It was too much being so close to it and she spun back to the stairs to the deck. Two crewmen looked towards her sharply only to lower their eyes a moment later. Alex could only wonder if the power of the chain extended somehow to them as well or if their captain’s ability to control the slaves left them with such terror.
“Captain,” a sterner and stronger voice called.
She turned to look towards the voice despite herself and met the gaze of a man up near the helm. Alex’s feet were moving before she could stop them and she felt the control she’d gained earlier slipping away. Frantically she tried to pull on her magic again, but everything was too unsteady. The chill of the Iron Chain lingered in her chest.
“Jacob.” Her body climbed the stairs up to join them. She nodded to the crewman at the helm and he quickly stepped back from the wheel. Grasping it in both hands, she turned her gaze away from the man and looked out onto the sea. “What is it?”
“Cuthbert was it necessary to throw that slave overboard?” Jacob asked. Alex shuddered at the name he gave her. She didn’t want to know his name and prayed he wouldn’t give her a surname, wouldn’t make this person any more real. “You have the slaves cowed.”
“Apparently not,” her stern voice answered.
A strange faint feeling was seeping over Alex and she half feared that the chain had done something to her after all. Jacob’s answer to her comment was lost on her as a wave of vertigo rushed over her. Around her, the ship melted away as an icy feeling settled over Alex as the sky paled and the fog began to surround her.
Everything rippled around her and Alex tried to grasp at the helm, fearing that strange sensation was her magic or her becoming ill. Her fingers passed through the helm and the world around her dissolved, leaving her falling. She didn’t wake up in her bed and instead fell through the darkness with panic trying to claw its way up to her heart.
27
Fear Awakens
115 C.E. Sør-Trøndelag, Norway
Winter in these lands had never been pleasant, but to Thor, it seemed to be rolling in much faster than usual. Frosts were already destroying parts of the harvest and there was never much to spare. Already some farmers were trying to determine which animals to slaughter, thanks to a frost causing an entire field of hay to be lost. Despite his concerns over the Dark Elves, he’d been forced to turn his attention to helping the village.
Yet, there was a tension building in his shoulders with each passing day. He helped Arvid in the fields and worked at his forge long into the night to keep everyone equipped with tools. When he slept he should have been exhausted, and yet his mind kept going back to the question of what the Dark Elves were doing. Even though they’d known of the settlement for half a moon cycle, they still had yet to take action against it and Thor could not understand.
Drying his hands after washing them in the cold water, Thor moved towards Merlin and Morgana’s hut. Around him the other villagers glanced his way, giving him small nods, but largely keeping their distance. Another boring day working in his forge and trying not to worry too much about what was going to happen next. He hated it.
“Merlin?” Thor called as he reached their hut. “Morgana?”
“Thor?” Merlin answered back, making Thor relax a little. “Oh come in, come in.”
Pulling back the animal pelt, Thor stepped into the hut and noted two packs on the bench near the door. He turned to find Morgana braiding her long hair into a crown around her head, something he’d notice she did when she expected trouble. Thor looked towards Merlin and found the older man fastening his cloak with a stern expression on his face.
“Are you going out again?”
“We’re going to have another look at the settlement.” Merlin picked up one of the packs and slung it over his shoulder “We’ve been studying the area; trying to determine where the
y are gathering food, getting water and find any signs of them expanding.”
“We haven’t found much.” Morgana glanced his way with frustration glowing in her eyes. “We’ve decided to head into the tunnels. Frea’s spies have gone in a ways, but we want to have a look for ourselves.”
“I’m coming with you,” Thor said, hoping that his voice sounded more confident than he was.
“That’s not necessary,” Merlin was quick to say. “We don’t want you being injured.”
“I need to know what we’re up against too.” Thor felt nervous at the mention of tunnels and the reminder that the Dark Elves lived underground. He was uncertain as to the source of the feeling and shoved it away as his stomach tightened. “I need to be aware of things too, Merlin. I can’t just rely on secondhand information from the two of you.”
“Thor. we don’t know how this is going to play out yet,” Merlin said in that annoying and smooth voice that Merlin used to convince people of his point of view. “For all we know they may settle into peaceful lives like Frea’s people.”