The Iron Hammer

by J. M. Briggs

  They received a warning look and instantly silenced any other doubts they might have offered. Sharing a look with Dietrich, they were aware that the other man wasn’t any more impressed than they were.

  “Several of Ahnenerbe’s scholars have been tracing local myths and have found some interesting stories that hint at a protomyth, an origin point for the stories if you will.”

  “So you have a location?” Weber asked, looking much more eager now.

  “There is an area that you are to check,” Major Berger explained. “It will take some time, but if you are successful then the expedition will be a remarkable success!” There was a gleam in the man’s eye that they didn’t like at all. “Should the stories be true then imagine what such an object could help the Third Reich achieve!”

  “First things first,” Voigt cut in looking distinctly unimpressed with Berger. “There are many details to sort out first: transport and staff, but Himmler is eager to see the expedition begin.”

  Leaning back in the chair, they couldn’t believe this was happening, but the more they thought about it as Voigt and Berger brought out files for them to look at the better it sounded. Their placement in France was comfortable in theory, but living in an occupied city full of people who had every reason to hate you carried its own problems. Norway wouldn’t be much better thanks to the occupation and the King being in exile, but at least an archeological expedition would keep them isolated.

  They looked down as another folder was slid over to them and opened it quickly. There were a few maps of the Norwegian coast with notes scrawled on the edges, pages of interview questions and answers, several photographs from the area, and copies of several drawings of Thor’s Hammer. Their eyes lingered on the image of the iconic hammer and for a moment there was a strange sense that it didn’t look right. The feeling passed quickly and they turned their attention back to the Colonel. This may be a fool’s errand and no doubt one more attempt of the Ahnenerbe to rewrite history to suit Hitler, but at least he could stay away from the worst aspects of the war.

  That thought echoed in their mind. Images of camps with piles of corpses and people who looked like the living dead flashed through their mind. There was a bombed out Berlin and a burning Dresden. Around them, the room flickered as the strange images overtook all thoughts. Blinking, they tried to force the strange premonition away as the Colonel turned towards them. They heard a question and some kind of answer came forth even as the… connection frayed.

  What followed were flashes of faces, places, and voices. They sailed past too quickly for any meaning to be gained. Then it all slowed down and the Eiffel Tower appeared. That then changed to a long dark tunnel that stank of decay. A light illuminated a wall built of bones. The connection pulled apart further as a shining weapon made of metal appeared. It was some sort of hammer with the triskelion symbol engraved on the side. One end was wide and flat while the other tapered slightly into a smaller edge. Something snapped and she flinched at the sharp rush of magic back into her chest.

  Everything was suddenly different. She wasn’t in a chair in a closed room or in that strange tunnel. There was a soft pillow beneath her head, soft music playing in the background and someone was holding her hand. It took her a long moment to come back to herself as Eckstein faded into the background. Not moving she just listened to the soft voices she could hear distantly.

  “Guys I think she’s coming around,” someone female whispered. “Does she need more magic?”

  “Let’s see if she wakes up on her own,” another voice, also familiar, but this time male answered. “We don’t want to overwhelm her.”

  “At least she’s coming around,” another female voice interjected. “I would’ve hated to call Morgana about this.”

  Groaning, Alex forced her eyes open. Her shoulders ached from sitting in a hunched over position too long. Something cracked slightly and Alex grimaced with a soft groan. Turning her head, she found a smiling Jenny seated on the edge of a bed with her. Alex frowned in confusion and looked up towards the bottom of the upper bunk.

  “Hostel?” she asked softly.

  “That’s right, private room with our own bathroom,” Jenny answered, squeezing her hand. “You were gone a long time, Alex. Bran had to stop giving you magic.”

  “He’s okay right?” Alex asked, suddenly more alert as she started to sit up.

  “I’m fine,” Bran called from across the room. “Sorry we had to move you, but we were attracting attention.”

  Alex shifted again and Jenny leaned back to give her more space. Every muscle in her back protested as she sat up. A yawn escaped her before she could stop it, earning a soft chuckle from Jenny. She looked over towards where Bran’s voice had come from. He was seated at a small round table in the center of the room with Nicki. Four bunk beds lined the wall and their luggage was stacked up near one of the two wooden doors. The furniture looked solid and fairly new. Orange light was pouring in through the one large window and Alex frowned as she recognized the glow of a sunset.

  “How long?” she forced out, suddenly aware of how dry her throat was.

  “We stayed at the tower for three hours,” Jenny informed her. Leaning over, Jenny retrieved a bottle of water. “Then Bran broke the connection, but you just kept sleeping.”

  “How’d you get me here?” she asked as she gestured around the room. “What happened?”

  “I was sharing magic with you,” Bran reminded her gently. “But I felt myself growing weaker… I disconnected from you and we tried to wake you up.”

  “You wouldn’t wake up,” Nicki took over a little too calmly. “We were freaking out, but then you started mumbling in your sleep.”

  “So we brought you to the hostel in a cab. Told the front desk you’d blacked out from drinking,” Jenny added, looking a touch embarrassed. “Sorry about that part.”

  “We were going to call Morgana if you hadn’t woken up in another hour,” Bran finished looking very relieved. “The others tried giving you magic, but you didn’t change it so we hoped it meant you were just in a deep vision.”

  “I wouldn’t wake up,” Alex repeated in surprise as she looked at their faces. They all looked relieved now, but she thought she could still see shadows of worry. “Sorry about that, didn’t mean to scare you.” She paused and licked her lips. “It didn’t feel like I was gone that long… expect at the end… there were all these flashes.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jenny urged, reaching out to brush a strand of blonde hair from her face.

  “How’d you get me to a cab?”

  “Lance is pretty strong,” Jenny reminded her with a grin and a slight blush that Alex didn’t want to think about.

  “Where is he?” Alex asked as she looked around the room. “And Aiden?”

  “Downstairs making some dinner and some calls,” Nicki answered. She had joined Bran at the small table where he was flipping through a small book. “Aiden wanted to check in with his folks.”

  “Oh, that’s fair,” Alex agreed, wondering if she should call her own parents.

  Falling silent, Alex stretched out her arms as she waited for everything to… settle. It was an odd thought and her heart jumped uncomfortably at it, but thankfully a panic attack didn’t follow. Jenny offered her a smile and withdrew back to the table where she leaned over something the others were looking at.

  “So do you know the future yet?” Jenny asked Bran with a soft chuckle.

  Alex straightened up enough to see the series of cards spread across the surface of the table. She couldn’t see them clearly but recognized enough from the brightly decorated pieces of paper that she chuckled.

  “Tarot cards?” Alex asked, looking at Bran.

  “Blame Nicki,” Bran muttered as he shook his head. “When they ran out for dinner stuff she picked some up.”

  “I thought they might help,” Nicki huffed as she waved her hand. “Another medium for you to use. Need I remind you that you are the party seer.” She tapped th
e final card in the spread that was still face down. “So what do you see?” Nicki asked with a widening grin.

  “And your outcome is-” Bran turned over the last card and revealed the image of a burning tower. Grabbing the small book he’d been reading earlier he flipped through it for a moment and grimaced slightly before quickly perking up. “The Tower, but it could be good.”

  “It’s the Tower,” Nicki repeated doubtfully, giving Bran a look.

  “But it’s not inverted,” Bran insisted as he leaned over to look at the book.

  “There’s a man jumping out of a burning room,” Nicki said. She leaned over and pointed at the card. “Jumping out of the Tower, how is that good?”

  “Maybe tarot cards isn’t the best way to do this.” Alex turned on the bed and set her feet on the floor. “Too vague for one.” She noticed that her sneakers had been removed and were on the floor next to her feet.

  “Oh, give him some time,” Nicki teased with a grin toward Bran. “He’ll probably sort it out.”

  “We’ll see.” Bran paused and looked at the cards thoughtfully. “It might be something that mages have used in the past so maybe I should try it again and actually use some magic.”

  “So I can disregard the Tower?” Nicki asked eagerly. “Okay, I officially disregard the Tower.”

  Smiling a little, Alex breathed out a bit more easily. She tried to remember the last parts of her vision when everything had gone strange, but there were only a few images that stood out to her. There was the dark tunnel and the hammer. Alex frowned and tightened her grip on the sheets. There might have been bones. Something nagged at her memory, but she couldn’t chase it down.

  “How about some food?” Nicki asked her, suddenly much closer. Alex looked up to find Nicki right next to the bed with a hesitant smile. “Shall we go downstairs and get something to eat?” Nicki offered more gently. “You should eat something, Alex.”

  “Yeah,” Alex agreed with a nod, reaching down for her shoes. A wave of dizziness hit her and she froze in place.

  “Alex?” Nicki gasped. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped more harshly than she meant to. “Just back off!”

  “Hey!” Nicki started to protest.

  “Give her a minute,” Bran said from nearby. “We’ll meet you downstairs, Nicki.”

  Alex kept her head down, trying to ignore the trembling beginning to take over her hands. Slamming her eyes shut, Alex tensed as Arthur’s smirking face appeared before her. There was a bloody sword in his hand and her stomach ached. Opening her eyes, Alex stayed still and tried to push the rush of terror and the images away. She flinched as the door closed with a soft thump. A moment later she heard a chair being moved. A pair of shoes appeared in the corner of her eyes as someone sat down.

  “Alex, it’s Bran,” he announced calmly. “You’re in a hostel in Paris. The others are downstairs and are safe.” There was a long pause. “What can I do right now? Do you need anything?”

  “No,” she growled, clenching her jaw and trying to take a slow breath. “I mean- sorry.”

  “You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Bran reassured her. “Just try to breathe. Focus on my voice if that helps.” It did help a little and Alex raised her eyes towards Bran. He was sitting in the chair, slumped forward and just watching her with a neutral expression. “Lance was making sandwiches of some kind. I didn’t go out shopping with the others,” he explained as he opened a small book and began flipping through it. “I’m wondering where they went shopping that they found a tarot set in English. Maybe Paris has more interesting shops than I thought.” He chuckled lightly. “I think I was just guilty of stereotyping. You’d think I’d know better.”

  “You’re entirely too calm about all of this,” Alex muttered, half accusingly as she tried to unclench her fists.

  “Contrary to what might be going through your head this is a completely normal reaction,” Bran told her. That just made her angrier. “My Uncle George had PTSD.”

  “PTSD,” Alex repeated in shock. The anger slipping away as shock replaced it. “That’s something for soldiers!”

  “Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Bran lectured as if he hadn’t heard her. “You’re not wrong, it is often found in soldiers, but like the name suggests it is tied to traumatic experiences. And while you may not like to think it that way you’re had plenty of those, Alex. The Sídhe capturing you, Chernobog, Arthur and now your other lives have all put you under a lot of stress and pressure.” He paused and offered her a small smile. “This isn’t your fault, Alex, so don’t think it is. Please just keep in mind that you’ve got us, Morgana, and Merlin if you need us.”

  He went silent and Alex lowered her eyes, unsure of the different emotions fighting for dominance in her chest. The irrational anger she’d felt towards Nicki had faded and guilt and embarrassment was taking over. Part of her asked why this was starting now and tried to remember what she’d heard about PTSD in the past. Weren’t there triggers or something? Wasn’t it usually after a bad event so why now and not right after Arthur had stabbed her? Her mouth was dry and she wasn’t sure what to do now.

  “Your uncle?” Alex repeated as she searched her memory. “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned him.” She wanted Bran to start talking again and give her something else to focus on.

  “He wasn’t my actual uncle,” Bran confirmed with a soft smile. “But he was my Dad’s best friend in their unit.” Bran paused and seemed to be gathering his thoughts. “He was there when the car bomb killed Dad. It hit him hard and when he came back…” Bran trailed off and shook his head. “Mom and I tried to stay in touch even though Dad was gone and we were dealing with that.” Alex wanted to ask what happened, but there was a sad note in Bran’s voice that worried her. “And after the accident, Mom sent me to counselors to try and make sure that I didn’t end up the same way.”

  “Did they help?”

  Bran shrugged. “Hard to say. I don’t know how I would have coped with the initial inability to walk otherwise. Maybe I would have been fine, maybe not.” He smiled a little. “Course I didn’t try to explain the vision that saved our lives. I knew even then that it would make me sound crazy.”

  A rough chuckle escaped Alex and she found herself smiling a little bit. Bran offered her a soft smile in return and shifted in his chair. Alex’s stomach grumbled a moment later and he outright laughed while Alex grimaced. Reaching down for her shoes, Alex breathed out slowly as she started to pull them on. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say now. Thankfully Bran merely stood up from the chair and extended a hand to help her stand up from the bed. Her legs shuddered and she almost stumbled. Bran kept her upright and slowly released her hand. With another smile, he looked towards the door and Alex nodded, grateful she didn’t have to speak quite yet.

  23

  Living in Another’s Memory

  The familiar ring of metal against metal echoed around her in the small smoky space. Large hands were holding a glowing sword in place against an anvil with tongs and she could feel her right hand tightly gripping a hammer. Magic was coursing over her skin as the hammer crashed down. Alex could see a glowing triskelion on the side of the hammer which pulsed as the magic flowed from the hammer into the sword.

  Mjǫllnir.

  The word, the name sprang to her head. It wasn’t exactly what she was familiar with from mythology, but close enough with a sense of rightness settling around it. The hammer was raised out of her view for a moment only to smash down once again on the sword, a soft pale glow shimmering across the metal’s surface.

  Alex was grateful for the glimpses of the hammer and the chance to familiarize herself with it. Unlike what she expected the hammer had one large flat side like a normal hammer, but the other side narrowed slightly into a small flat edge. Alex supposed that it allowed the hammer to be more versatile. The symbols on the side made it look a bit more like the mythological object she was expecting, but it didn’t match any of the images sh
e’d seen in the books they’d gone through.

  Feeling at ease with the clanging sound, Alex drifted in the dream unaware of the passage of time. Her initial confusion faded though part of her wondered why she was seeing this. This was the Iron Hammer without a doubt, but she wasn’t with Gottfried. The hammer smashed down again before they used a set of tongs to put the sword back into the hot coals of the forge. Heat rolled over Alex and she could almost feel the hairs on her arms being singed.

  Then the man shifted, rolling his shoulders and releasing a low sigh. He paused and turned towards the doorway giving Alex a chance to see their surroundings. It was a small wooden mat with woven walls. Tools were scattered around near the forge and anvil on long benches that lined two walls of the space. It was cramped and chaotic, but also oddly comfortable to Alex. She had no power over where to look and his focus narrowed on the doorway.