by J. M. Briggs
Gottfried wisely just nodded and kept his mouth shut. Tunnel or no his opinion about the hammer hadn’t changed. It was a myth and Himmler’s local story suggesting that it had once been in the area hadn’t changed his mind. It made him wonder what else the Ahnenerbe were out doing in the world. Were they trying to find the Ark of the Convent or the Spear of Destiny as well? It sounded ridiculous, but the way the Ahnenerbe had latched onto an old story and was convinced it might be real was also ridiculous.
“I’m not an archeologist, but surely these things take time.”
“Yes, but we’ve been out here for three months.”
“And already located a cavern system with clear signs of human habitation.”
“We both know it could be completely unrelated!” Weber was twisting his hands and Gottfried had to wonder why the other man had even come to speak with him. He obviously didn’t really want to be comforted. “You’re not really part of Ahnenerbe, you can’t understand.”
A knock on the door drew both of their attention and Gottfried called for them to come in. He was half expecting one of the workers, but Professor Dietrich entered and nearly jumped at the sight of Weber.
“Oh, I do apologize, Got-Captain Eckstein.”
“It’s not a problem, Professor Dietrich,” he assured him quickly. “Weber and I were just discussing the tunnel.”
“Ah, yes it is rather interesting,” Dietrich agreed. “Part of a small natural cave network though with clear mining marks. Though I’m not sure what they were mining for.”
“Iron perhaps,” Gottfried suggested only to earn a disapproving look from Weber. “My apologies. Geology was never a talent of mine.”
“No, I suppose not.” Weber was standing completely straight. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Captain Eckstein.” He looked to Dietrich with a distasteful expression. “Professor Dietrich.” He gave them both a quick nod before he headed out of the door of the small building.
Gottfried turned his eyes to the other man. The professor had taken off his glasses and was cleaning them with a corner of his suit. He always looked a bit nervous to Gottfried, but now he just looked tired.
“He hates me,” Professor Dietrich despaired. “He at least pretends with you.”
“A benefit of rank.” Gottfried managed only a slight smirk before shivering at the lingering draft Weber had let in. “Not that it really does much good out here.”
“I’m not sure what they think they found,” Dietrich said. He slumped into the spare chair and tightened his coat around him. “It’s so cold here. They tell me that it’s spring and flowers are starting to bloom, but I still think it’s cold.”
“I can’t tell you anything about if this really spring, but the area does have a few interesting variations of Norse stories.” Gottfried glanced at one of the papers he’d been translating. “But nothing I would think worth the time, money and effort for this dig.” He picked one of them up and shook his head. “I’m not sure what they’re thinking honestly.”
Dietrich gave him a warning look and Gottfried nodding his understanding. Inhaling slowly, he reminded himself that Norway was under Nazi occupation. They were no safer here than they had been in Paris or Germany. In fact, it would be easier to just vanish and get shot. Looking towards the photographs of his family on the edge of his desk, he sighed. Dietrich came part way around the desk and patted his shoulder.
“I know.” Dietrich tightened his grip for a moment. “I know, Gottfried.”
“Thank you, Adalard.”
They settled into the comfortable silence, each getting lost in their own thoughts. Gottfried was very aware of how Dietrich was looking towards the photos of his own family. He knew that something had happened to Dietrich’s family, but had never pressed to know the details.
“Car crash,” Dietrich said suddenly as if reading his mind. “Three years ago. Just a car crash.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. Thankfully Dietrich just gave him a slight smile and nodded.
Shouts from outside made them both turn sharply towards the door. Gottfried listened to the noise in confusion. They were happy, excited noises not ones of disappointment. Someone was shouting for Weber and he looked back at Dietrich as they both jumped to their feet. Dietrich rushed for the door and Gottfried paused long enough to grab his SS long coat and pulled it on.
He stepped outside on the rocky terrain. Some grasses were beginning to push their way up through the rock, but much of the area had been trod down by people. Across the camp was an opening into the hillside with a large scaffold structure around the entrance. Men were standing just outside the entrance and Weber was rushing over. Weber stopped at the entrance and spoke with one of the workers as their hands gestured wildly. Exchanging another look with Dietrich, Gottfried became to walk over to join Weber.
“We found a chamber!” Weber’s chest puffed out as if he’d done the deed himself. “They’re clearing the rubble. It’s very old by the looks of things.”
“What makes you think this is special?” Dietrich asked. The other man took off his glasses and cleaned them as Weber gave him a dark look.
“Clear tool marks! Mining efforts weren’t at this scale in this area. Yet these tunnels were carved into natural caverns. That is significant and an actual chamber must be important.”
Another man came out with a load of rock in a wheelbarrow that was dumped to the side. He looked stunned and little shaken, but Weber ignored him and pushed past. Gottfried fell into step behind him and entered the tunnel. Lights were hung along the tunnel wall on small hooks illuminating the path. Much of the tunnel was still intact beyond the entrance which had been caved in with rocks and dirt. Gottfried walked slowly, mindful of his footing and studying the tunnel as a whole. Staring at the carved walls, Gottfried slowly raised a hand and touched them. There were bits of carved graffiti scattered about and his heart jumped with excitement. However, behind him, Weber made an impatient noise and pushed past him.
“We’re here for the Hammer.”
It was Dietrich who gave him a dirty look and for a moment Gottfried feared that the smaller man would hit Weber. Thankfully he just gritted his teeth and followed Weber further in. They reached the junction in the tunnel where the worst of the collapse had been. The rumble had been shifted largely to one side and Gottfried could see evidence of tool marks on the walls. He wondered just how aggressive Weber’s workers had been. Up ahead the tunnel opened into a larger space and Weber was vibrating with excitement. He kicked a bit of the remaining rock out of his way, inhaled deeply and stepped forward into the small chamber.
Exchanging a look with Dietrich, Gottfried followed Weber into the small room and gasped. A pedestal of stone in place of honor held a strange looking hammer made of dark metal. One side had the iconic flat head that he was familiar with, but the other side tapered into a sharp point.
“That’s not Thor’s hammer!” Weber glared at the hammer, gritting his teeth. “It looks all wrong.”
“Now now, Professor Weber, mythology is complex!” Dietrich dashed forward and bent over so he was at eye-level with the hammer. His voice was quivering with excitement as he explained, “This was a tool. Legend may have made it a weapon, but a hammer is a tool first and foremost. The craftsmanship is impressive.”
Weber was clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared at the hammer. Dietrich had already pulled out a notebook and was sketching the thing even as one of the workers stepped forward with a camera and took a photograph. Gottfried frowned and leaned forward to get a better look at the symbol. He shifted his flashlight and smiled slightly when the triskelion gleamed as his excitement returned. It wasn’t the symbol he’d been expecting to see, but it fit. This artifact was so unexpected, so remarkable. He might not have been an archeologist, but even he could recognize that someone had held this item as very important.
“It hasn’t even rusted, it really looks like iron to me,” Dietrich said frowning slightly. “
What do you think, Gottfried?”
“I’m not sure.”
He reached out to brush one finger across the surface of the metal. His eyes widened with sharp pale blue glow appeared beneath his fingertip. Lightning burst forth from the hammer in a wave of electricity forcing them all to drop to the ground. His heart was pounding and Gottfried grabbed at the rock beneath him as thousands of images and sounds were suddenly dumped into his brain and the cavern faded away. Strange creatures were bearing down him. The sky was ripped open with lights and colors spilling forth from it.
There was a beautiful woman with long hair and a sorrowful expression. He could feel her holding his hand and shivered at the strange ghostly sensations. Tears were slipping down her cheeks even as she tried to smile. She was saying something about a hammer, but the words were distant and hazy. A sense of guilt, happiness, and sorrow welled up in him, but he couldn’t understand it. More faces flashed before him. They were unfamiliar to him and yet there was a flicker of recognition inside his chest. He could feel a weight in his hand and somehow knew it was the hammer. It was being swung down on metal and heat rolled over his hands. The vision shifted again in a burst of bright blue light that darkened to gray.
Another woman appeared this one much younger than the last. Her image was foggy for a moment, but as it cleared Gottfried could see more of her features. She couldn’t have been much older than Enrich. She had long blonde hair pulled back out of her face and sharp gray eyes. Their eyes seemed to meet and hers widened in surprise before her features twisted into a scream. Electricity jolted up through his arm accompanied by grief and growing panic. It was wrong, it was all wrong. There were more faces, more people nearby. They looked more like the people he was used to though the girls were all in pants. They were someplace dark with floating lights. It was too much, too quickly and his chest was burning.
Gasping for air, Gottfried’s chest was burning and his hand ached. Someone was beside him and calling to him even as others moved around them. The sounds had an echoing quality and beneath his hands and knees, the ground was cool and hard like tile, but uneven.
“Gottfried!” Someone was shouting his name and it echoed through the chamber. “Gottfried, can you hear me?”
It was Dietrich he realized slowly as his sight returned. They were back in the cavern with flashlights illuminating the space. He could remember it now. He’d touched the hammer and there’d been some kind of explosion. It was darker than before. The small lights near the tunnel were dark, probably blown out by the lightning. His body ached, but he slowly pulled himself up onto his knees as Dietrich kept a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m alright,” he said.
“Just take it slow,” Dietrich insisted. “You were hit by that blast.” Dietrich shook his head and looked towards the hammer. “Remarkable, I’m not even sure what to think.”
Gottfried forced his eyes back to the hammer. Mjǫllnir, a strange voice provided in his head. It sent a shiver down his spine. Weber was reaching for the hammer with a pair of leather padded tongs and wild excitement on his face. Another man was holding open a box with a nervous expression as the hammer was moved through the air. A sense of dread overcame Gottfried as the tingle in his hand finally began to recede.
“Easy, Gottfried,” Dietrich said. His hand was on Gottfried’s shoulder, keeping him from moving and he realized with a jolt of surprise that he’d been moving for the hammer.
“We found it!” Weber cheered as he set the hammer in the box. Gottfried saw the poor worker’s legs buckle under the weight. “Himmler will be thrilled! You saw the lightning come from it! Just imagine how we could use it.”
The dread in Gottfried’s gut intensified painfully. Something in his twisted and rallied at the very idea. Again dozens of images flashed through his head leaving only a strange mixture of emotions in their wake.
“Weber, you saw what it did to Gottfried!” Dietrich’s body trembled with rage.
“We’ll be cautious of course.” Weber’s tone was dismissive and he ran a possessive hand over the box. “But this could be a source of electrical power for the whole country! We have to study it! This is what we’ve been working for. It is divine intervention that we found it at all!”
Weber glanced his way only once on his way out and made a quick promise to send in the medic. Dietrich stayed next to him as he recovered the feeling in his legs. Yet Gottfried kept staring after the hammer as a deep fear took hold. He wasn’t completely sure of the source, but he knew that something terrible had just occurred.
25
Timothy Talks
Stepping out of the bathroom Merlin rubbed his hair vigorously with the towel. His home was quiet and there was the slight smell of his waffles in the air. Merlin let the towel fall around his neck and shoulders and sighed softly. His bare feet curled into the thick crème carpet of the hallway as he began to head back to his room. It would have been a lazy day for grading if not for the lingering worry.
He shook his head and tossed the towel back into the bathroom. It hit the tiled floor with a short thump and Merlin headed for his bedroom. His shirt was waiting at the foot of his bed along with his socks and shoes for the day. There was a tension in the air was unsettled him, but Merlin couldn’t put his finger on the source. After pulling on his socks and shoes, he moved over to his dresser and gingerly opened the top drawer. Two earthen jars were snuggly packed in rolls of multicolored socks. They were still safe.
Trying to dismiss the feeling, Merlin pulled on his shirt and moved back towards the living room. Merlin paused in the doorway and looked into the kitchen as he buttoned up his shirt. His Brownie guest was up and moving about. The small creature still astonished him a bit. Over the years he’d been very aware of the descendants of the creatures the Sídhe enslaved spreading across the world and hiding from humans. Brownies retained a little magic that they were known to use in the homes they took shelter in.
Timothy wasn’t half a foot tall but had a humanoid form. His pudgy face was bright with contentment and his little dark eyes caught the sunlight pouring through the windows in a rather interesting way. Merlin honestly still wasn’t sure what to make of the little creature. He’d been freed from the power of the Iron Chain the prior week and had been content to remain. Morgana was even entertaining the idea of allowing him to live with the mages. On one hand, it might be useful to have the little creature around, but part of him couldn’t shake his worry. Timothy had gotten close enough to wound Alex while bound to the Queen’s order to kill mages.
“Don’t worry about it Timothy,” Merlin called over to the small Brownie as it moved around on the kitchen counter cleaning up bits of dried batter. “I’ll clean it up later.”
“It’s no problem, Professor Yates,” Timothy gave him a bright little smile, flashing his teeth.
“You can call me Merlin you know,” Merlin pointed out only to see the small creature shudder. Frowning, Merlin wondered what sort of tales were told amongst the fae creatures to convince their children to stay hidden. “Or Ambrose.” He offered Timothy a reassuring smile. “It’s my modern first name.”
“Yes, Ambrose,” Timothy agreed with a smile. “That will do, sir.”
“Thank you for helping with cleanup.”
“I enjoyed breakfast greatly,” Timothy said with a glowing smile. “Very tasty.”
“Yes though you hardly ate any.” Merlin headed to the counter and picked up the mug of coffee waiting for him. It was still warm. “Hardly seems fair.”
Timothy ignored him and gestured towards the dishes in the sink. The faucet turned and water began to pour over them before the soap bottle levitated. A few drops of soap hit the water and Merlin contented himself with watching Timothy’s small acts of magic. Of course, it was more than the mages had managed in their first months.
The sweet ding of the doorbell drew his attention away from the Brownie. Merlin hesitated for a moment before deciding that Timothy and his magic were well out of view. As he
approached the front door he relaxed as he saw a familiar figure through the window. He opened the door with a slight smile, holding back a sudden yawn.
“Morgana,” he greeted calmly, grateful that he’d managed to get dressed before her arrival. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Ambrose,” Morgana said. He stepped to the side allowing her to stride inside. She was dressed neatly with her hair over one shoulder in a braid, but there were bags beneath her eyes conflicting with her other composed appearance. “I heard from Aiden a few hours ago.”
“And?” Merlin questioned as he closed and locked the door.
“They’re alright and safe. Alex’s dreams are a bit… out of control, it seems,” Morgana informed him carefully. “I got the sense that she isn’t handling the stress well. Aiden indicated that everyone has been keeping an eye on her.”
“All the more reason for us to retrieve her,” Merlin said, brightening at the convincing argument for bringing the Iron Soul back to Ravenslake. “She shouldn’t be alone.”