The Iron Hammer

by J. M. Briggs

“You can come in,” he called sounding more amused than anything else in a deep and smooth masculine voice.

  A beautiful woman stepped into the small hut with a gentle smile on her face. For a moment Alex was at a loss as she stared at the newcomer. Something about her was different. She looked human, but an instinct warned Alex not to be fooled. Long golden hair framed an unnaturally symmetrical face with large green eyes.

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” a soft high voice answered.

  “Sif,” he greeted suddenly sounding a touch nervous. “Everything alright?”

  “Yes,” Sif answered with a soft sigh. Moving further into the workshop, she turned her head to examine an axe blade on one of the benches. “Baldr is just being…” She shook her head and looked back towards them. “He doesn’t like me visiting you Thor.”

  Alex would have gasped or smiled under other circumstances. She’d wanted to see the Iron Hammer and it had apparently worked. A bit late, but it had worked. Thor glanced back towards the forge for a moment before smiling and looking back to Sif.

  “We knew that would likely be the reaction,” Thor chuckled in response.

  Sif offered them- Thor a soft smile as she slipped further into the hut. She didn’t fit in at all. The tools, furs, and benches were all dark thanks to years of use and exposure to the smoke while she was fair in every sense of the word. None the less, Sif seated herself on the edge of the wooden bench and waved towards the forge. Alex could feel Thor’s features shift into a warm smile as he turned back to the fire.

  He worked quickly, hammering the red-hot iron blade with Mjǫllnir. Sparks of pale blue magic arced off of the hammer and into the iron where they glistened and settled into the metal. Alex watched mesmerized by the display, partially in awe that Thor had used Mjǫllnir as a smithing hammer. She would have expected it to be used just for battle. Alex found herself wishing there was a mirror nearby so she could see the mythological figure that she once was.

  There was a loud hiss as Thor slid the blade into a tall vessel of water. It shuddered in Thor’s hand, but he kept it steady and Alex could see the last glimmers of Thor’s magic faded. It wasn’t magical like Mjǫllnir or Cathanáil or the Chalice, but she knew it would last longer and be a little stronger against beings from other worlds.

  Then Thor turned his attention back towards Sif. She smiled at him as he crossed the small hut and submerged his hands in a large bowl of water. It was cold in contrast to the heat still rolling out of the forge. He splashed some of the water on his face and tugged at his hair as he loosened the leather band holding it out of his face. Alex caught a glimpse of blond hair but noted it had a hint of red before Thor tied it back once more.

  Sif shifted right in front of them-him and brought a hand up to touch her-his chest. Alex wanted to look around and see if there was a good reason she was still in this memory, but Thor’s eyes were fixed on Sif’s. There was an uncomfortable flutter in her stomach as she was forced to stare into the shimmering green eyes. Then soft lips pressed against her own. A soft pleased hum escaped her and Alex knew if she’d been in control that she’d be blushing.

  This was worse than losing herself in the memories she decided as Thor’s lips shifted against Sif’s. His arms came up to rest on her backside. There was no sense of belonging here. She just felt like a voyeur, but she couldn’t leave. Thor’s eyes closed, blocking the view of Sif’s golden hair, but the sensations remained. Lips opened and Thor’s tongue brushed across Sif’s lower lip sending a flush of heat and horror through Alex.

  Alex tried calling on her magic, but there was only a strange fluttering sensation in her-Thor’s gut. She tried again, repeating over and over that she didn’t want to see this. She didn’t want to know this part of Thor’s life. Had she been in her own body, Alex would have been frantically apologizing and blushing. Sif’s hand came up and tangled in Thor’s hair.

  Then she heard her name. It was distant, but Alex focused on it. The hut and the… sensations dimmed slightly. Someone called her name softly once again and Alex let the dream fade away. There was tugging ache in her chest as she began to wake.

  The soft glow of a cell phone illuminated her bunk and Alex blinked rapidly. Her heart was still pounding from the dream as fight or flight instincts kicked in. Blushing she shifted in her bed, suddenly very aware of her tightness in her stomach and the jumble of thoughts in her head. It took her a moment to realize that without explanation or introductions, she’d known Sif at once. She’d known Sif’s face and touch. Her shock cut through the lingering sensations and Alex exhaled slowly as she turned her attention back to the cell phone. There was just enough light to see Jenny’s face and the slight frown on her face.

  “You okay?” Jenny asked with a soft flush as she adjusted the phone and sat on the edge of Alex’s bed. “You were tossing and turning really bad.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said, her voice cracking a little. “Just… an odd dream.” A rush of embarrassment washed through her. “It was nothing.”

  “Didn’t sound like nothing,” Nicki teased lightly with a cat who got the canary grin, leaning over the edge of the top bunk to join the conversation. “Nice that you’re having something other than nightmares.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Alex insisted, ducking her head as her cheeks heated up.

  “Sure,” Nicki said doubtfully.

  “It was a memory,” Alex confessed, bringing her hands up and covering her face. “And… well, I…” A hysterical giggle escaped Alex. “Uh let’s just say that there are some problems with all my previous lives having been men. It makes them a bit awkward.” A horrified look of realization took over Jenny’s face. Forcing a chuckle, Alex shook her head and softly added. “I’m fine, go back to sleep.” There was a snort from Nicki above her head, but when she looked up Nicki offered her a soft understanding smile.

  Thankfully what she’d revealed seemed to be enough to get the other girls to drop it and Alex was overwhelmingly grateful that none of the boys had woken up. Soft snoring was coming from their side of the room and she quickly pulled her blankets back over her head. There was a soft thump above her as Nicki settled back into her bed and near her feet, she could hear Jenny climbing back into her bed.

  Alex lay silent and still under her own blankets, trying to push away the lingering emotions. She was aware that her face must have been insanely red and the mere thought flooded her with embarrassment and nervousness. As her eyes adjusted back to the darkness Alex pulled back the blanket and looked around. She could see the vague outline of the table and chairs and the bunks against the far wall. There was some faint light spilling into the room from the street beyond through the curtains that let her see their luggage which was still mostly packed and waiting near the bathroom door.

  Sighing softly, Alex listened to the soft sounds of Jenny’s breathing evening out. It was a familiar sound from when they’d shared a room freshman year. Things had been simpler then. Alex almost laughed or cried as she remembered how scared she’d been of magic and yet a little hopeful and excited. Arthur had been so… he’d been one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Their brief magical connection had made some small quiet part of her hope. Alex shook her head and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. She couldn’t think about him. Even now her hands began to and her chest tightened. Tears gathered in her eyes and Alex tried to think of something else, anything else to avoid another panic attack.

  Shifting onto her back again, Alex brought her hand up and tried to examine it in the darkness. She could see her fingers, but no details and wiggled her hand in a small wave to herself. She was afraid to go back to sleep, Alex conceded darkly with a flare of anger in her gut and afraid to lay awake thinking of things. Soft snoring sounds floated down, assuring Alex that Nicki had fallen back to sleep.

  Alex tugged softly on her magic. The horizontal and prone position felt strange as the magic began to flow through her body. It was a little ticklish as it spun over her skin and sp
arked off the edge of her fingertips. The dark gray sparks lingered in the air on her command, casting a soft glow. It wasn’t bright and she considered the color carefully. She’d never given much thought to the various colors that their magic took. In the early days, Alex had figured it was some sort of symbolism about their magic or personality, but that didn’t really fit. Colors meant different things around the world. Aiden’s red magic could obviously link to his natural fire, but he’d used ice in the past as well. Nicki’s magic was blue like water appeared to be, but again she could do more than just control water with it.

  Arthur’s magic had been white. Soft and beautiful, looking like it came out of a movie. It had certainly fit his White Knight persona that had lured them all in. Alex clenched her fingers as her chest tightened again. Sadly trying not to think of Arthur just made his face swim before her as she slammed her eyes shut. Alex could feel the chill of the snow as she fell to the ground. Her mouth went dry as weakness overwhelmed her. One hand flew to her stomach, but there was no wound.

  Trembling, Alex rolled onto her side and curled her body into the fetal position. There was no wound, she told herself as she looked towards Aiden’s bed. He’d saved her. Aiden had arrived just in time to use a fireball to knock Cathanáil from Arthur’s hand into the water tunnel and had nearly killed himself saving her. She looked frantically around the room trying to find something familiar to ground herself in the present. There was nothing and her fingers itched to rub the soft fake fur of her stuffed dog Galahad.

  A smile tugged at Alex’s lips and the tightness in her chest remarkably eased at the thought of the old stuffed dog. She turned her head slightly and giggled into her pillow. Closing her eyes again, Alex tried to summon what the little dog looked like with its old faded fur and torn right eye. The image was soothing and Alex rolled onto her back as the pain in her gut faded. Breathing slowly, she debated trying to go back to sleep or meditating. While the meditation often helped her relax Alex was afraid of it summoning up other memories.

  Her magic flared over her hand, thrumming almost painfully against her skin as she called on it without instruction. The slight pain helped Alex focus on the present and she stared at the dark sparks. They were the color of wrought iron she reminded herself as she released a small stream of sparks. Spinning through the air, they sailed over the table and lit up the surface. Alex narrowed her gaze on a long scrape across its surface and tried to envision the scar repaired. The sparks of magic floated down to the surface of the table and the surface shimmered for a moment. Before the last sparks vanished, Alex could see the scar vanishing as the wood shifted and grew up to fill the empty space. She smiled slightly and relaxed into the mattress once more.

  She called on more sparks of magic and toyed with them in silence. Slowly she created a floating image of a smiling face above her, but it wasn’t enough to dispel her worry. Stretching out her fingers, Alex concentrated on the sparks and conjured an image of an orb. The sparks of magic turned into a stream that rushed into a single point of light. It expanded and thrummed softly, casting a brighter light around the room. There was a slight groan from Jenny’s bunk and Alex waved her hands, silently ordering the magic to disperse. The room went dark again.

  Alex’s eyes were heavy and she let them slide closed. The soft hum of her magic was fading, but she could still feel the lines of heat across her skin. Folding her hands over the blankets, Alex practiced inhaling and exhaling in time with her heartbeat. Her mind was proving harder to quiet so she whispered the words: Iron Hammer and Mjǫllnir over and over to herself. Gradually it became harder to remember the words as the heat across her skin cooled and the weight of the day pressed her into the mattress.

  It was dark, almost impossible to see even with the beam of the flashlight moving around. The beam stopped suddenly and a chill raced down her spine at the sight of a skull. She recovered from her shock only for the beam to shift down and illuminate a wall built out of the tightly packed human bones. Stumbling forward, she caught herself on a wall and her fingers wrapped around a small shelf crafted from thigh bones. Horror flashed through her chest and drove her on. She ran like someone was chasing her, but there were no sounds behind her. Tears were slipping from her eyes and her fingers tightened around the handle of a heavy leather case she was carrying.

  Then she stopped as she came to a junction. Both corridors were lined with bones and pitch black. She shined the flashlight both ways, but it didn’t provide enough light to truly see anything beyond the maze of bones. Stepping forward, she slowed down now and listened. There were soft sounds around her like small creatures were moving in the dark. It provided no comfort and her legs were beginning to ache. Coming to a stop, she found herself looking at a small niche in the wall where bones had fallen and scattered. She knelt, set down the case and brushed aside the bones to find a small hole. Using her hands, she scrapped small piles of rubble from the hole with hands too large to be her own. She was dreaming again Alex realized, but then whoever she was turned the flashlight on the case.

  The too large hands opened it. A heavy looking iron hammer with a top that was wide on one end and narrowed on the second filled the leather case. They didn’t touch it, but there was a small shock up her arm. Then, without a word, they closed the case and slid it down into the hole. It just barely fit.

  With a shuddering sigh, she pushed the bones up against the wall, stacking them gently into a façade of the carefully constructed medieval walls. It was enough to hide the hole. There was a moment of hesitation, but then she stood up and began to walk away. The flashlight beam shining ahead as she followed the dark walls to a destination she didn’t know. Alex tried to figure what was happening, but there was a torrent of sorrow, hope, regret, and resignation pounding in her chest that she just couldn’t understand.

  “Alex,” someone called. “Alex honey are you okay?” It was Jenny, she realized as she struggled her way back to consciousness.

  The room was bright now with sunlight pouring in through the windows. Her eyelids were heavy, but the rush of adrenaline from the dream helped her wake.

  “The Catacombs,” Alex said as she started to sit up almost desperate to voice the thought before anything swept the dream away. “He came back to Paris to hide it. The Hammer is in the Catacombs.”

  24

  Dangerous Discovery

  March 1944 C.E. Sør-Trøndelag, Norway

  As a German Gottfried has always considered himself fairly sturdy stock and that had been before all the eugenics and propaganda. He’d been just old enough during the Great War to serve during the last days and had survived. In the aftermath, he’d married Ilse and started a family despite the struggles in Germany at the time proving that they could overcome whatever the world threw at them.

  But Norway was cold. The wind picked up the moisture from the sea and carried it to the dig site in icy biting blasts that cut down to his bones. Gottfried was having to reassess his view of his strength and sturdiness. While the situation with the locals was a little warmer than it had been in Paris, the wind and lack of services made it less than a pleasant location. It was harder to send and receive letters and while the view was impressive he felt like he was at the end of the world.

  A sigh escaped him and he grumbled at himself. He was complaining over nothing. This was a waste of time for the Nazis and kept him away from the ugly operations. Still, Gottfried had a strange sense of dread in his gut. It made no sense. He hadn’t been this nervous since he was officially brought into the SS and taken away from his teaching post. He hadn’t even been this concerned since the news of the first Cologne fire bombing. People he knew had been killed or lost everything and his children could have been in the city. So why did this place leave him so on edge?

  It didn’t help that their small camp consisted of tents for the workers and a few small buildings for the Ahnenerbe officers. It was all too exposed and he worried about the day that a local rebel group decided they were an easy target. A kn
ock on the door drew his attention away from his thoughts. He didn’t wish to speak with anyone, but called for them to come in.

  Weber walked in, his dark long coat managing to flutter around him as he slammed the door shut. Displeasure was all over his face and he eyed the papers scattered across Gottfried’s desk. “Have you found anything?”

  “I’m afraid not, Weber. I’ve located the old reference that probably drew Himmler’s attention here, but beyond that nothing.” He shook his head and straightened up the documents. “I’m afraid there just isn’t much to place the hammer here beyond that old oral story.”

  “The tunnel excavation is going too slowly,” Weber grumbled. His blond hair was fading back to a dark color and was messier than Gottfried had ever seen it. “We need results.”

  “Honestly, I’m impressed that we even found the tunnel. We’re on the trail of something interesting.”

  “That’s not good enough for Berlin. Himmler firmly believes that Thor’s Hammer is real. That means that it must be found for the Third Reich. It is part of our great history and will be part of our glorious future!” Weber’s eyes were wide and gleaming. “Imagine what something like that could do!”