The Iron Cursed

by J. M. Briggs

  “Brekszta fled quickly,” Sif replied. She sat down next to Alex and tossed her long golden braid over her shoulder. The action was familiar and made one of the voices, she guessed Thor’s, grow louder. “It was odd: she really didn’t seem interested in fighting. While that… cloud she released surrounded the other mages, it didn’t hurt them.”

  “She said something odd,” Alex admitted. “She said that she was trying to help me. I didn’t believe her, but…”

  “But?”

  “Well, she’s been making me dream of my other lives,” Alex admitted. The words were easier to say than she thought they’d be. Looking at Sif, she found the Old One’s face wonderfully blank of any emotion or judgment. “Did Thor die of old age?”

  Sif blinked at the question but then nodded. “Yes, he did. It bothered him of course: he’d always assumed that he’d die in battle. It was one of his arguments for us having a relationship. He didn’t think he’d live long enough to die an old man.”

  “You were with him when he died.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Of course,” Sif answered. “I loved Thor. He was an arrogant and hard headed idiot.” Her voice quivered for a moment. “But he had a good heart and was surprisingly clever at times. I never regretted our time together.”

  “I’m sorry to bring it up.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” Sif said. “I hope that you don’t feel like you can’t talk about Thor with me. I don’t mind, I just worry about you.”

  “Thanks for that, I guess.” Alex turned her gaze away from Sif. For a time neither of them spoke nor moved. Alex found herself half wishing that Sif would leave even as Thor’s rough voice disagreed. “So… did Thor have red hair like in the stories?”

  “Yes; his hair was naturally red,” Sif agreed. “But like most people in that area, he bleached his hair.”

  “Really?”

  “It was too cold during the winter to even consider a bath,” Sif replied. “The Norse were a very clean people. They all had grooming tools and it was very important to them to have neatly trimmed beards.” Sif paused as if she expected Alex to say something, but Alex stayed silent. “Bleaching kept lice and other unpleasant pests from taking hold when they couldn’t wash their hair.”

  Alex had the strangest image of several men sitting in a longhouse trimming their beards and washing their faces. It was vivid with the smell of lye filling her nose. “They used lye?” Alex asked. Vaguely she remembered something about tweezers: asking Sif for tweezers last night.

  “Yes,” Sif replied carefully. “A special soap. Thor used to hate it when the red of his hair showed. I imagine he’d be a bit irritated to know that he’s remembered with red hair.”

  “I’m not sure remembered is the right word,” Alex said. “You have to go and actually read the myths to learn that.”

  “True enough, I suppose,” Sif agreed. “But the later Norse who worshiped him wouldn’t have imagined that he could be infected with lice.”

  “I wonder where the story of him needing a belt and gloves to use Mjǫllnir came from,” Alex remarked. “Seems a bit odd.”

  “The Norse allowed their gods to be far more human than many other cultures,” Sif said. “It’s a fact I’ve always appreciated about them. Perhaps the legends of the Hammer were too unbelievable so they gave it a limiting factor. Something that would bind it to Thor. After all, they didn’t know about the Iron Soul.”

  “I guess.”

  There was a group of geese at the edge of the lake, a couple of adults and a bunch of small goslings. It made Alex smile as she watched them paddle across the surface. She struggled with the reality that only last night she’d been facing Brekszta on that same shore. Some of the worst events of her life had unfolded here. It seemed appropriate that Brekszta would make her relive the other horrible events here as well. The truck flashed through her memory and Alex couldn’t help but shiver.

  “Alex?” Sif asked.

  “I’m alright,” Alex said. “Just a dark thought. Something Brekszta brought to the surface.” Straightening up, Alex rolled her shoulder and smiled for Sif. “I’m working my way through it.”

  The knot in her chest quivered at the lie and Alex pushed a little more magic into it. In response, the bundle thrummed in silent warning. What would happen when the knot came untied Alex didn’t know, and couldn’t bring herself to care about.

  “You said that Brekszta is making you dream of your other lives,” Sif said carefully. “And that she thought she was helping you? Any idea why she might think that?”

  “I suppose she might think that this whole memory wipe thing is a bad system,” Alex suggested. “And I sort of agree with her. There are times when I wish I just knew what the other Iron Souls knew. Things might be easier that way.” The voices grew louder, but they were too mixed up to understand.

  “Don’t lose Alex,” Sif said softly. “Hold onto her: fight for her.”

  “Why?” Alex asked. She hadn’t meant to voice the question, and looked at Sif. “Surely the memories would help? You spoke with Shiva and brought Avani here. You know that things just keep getting worse.” A sad chuckle escaped Alex and she looked out over the lake. “I remember thinking when we helped Arthur create that Gate that everything was going to get better. I thought we were in control of the situation and that the worst was over.” Shaking her head, Alex reached up and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Seems like years ago; decades even, but it wasn’t.”

  “Alex, last night…”

  “I was Thor, wasn’t I?” Alex asked. She looked at Sif and frowned. “I sort of remember, but it’s foggy.”

  “Yes,” Sif replied. Her voice was tight and pained. “You were, but you’re Alex. You can’t be Thor. No matter how much…” Sif trailed off and turned to look out at the lake.

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said softly. Standing up, she debated if she should say more. One of the voices was angry and hurt, urging her to say more, but offered no suggestions. “Please take care, Sif,” Alex finally added. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  “Alex!” Nicki’s voice rang through the arboretum and Alex released a sigh. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful for Nicki’s timing or not. Alex nodded to Sif and headed up the slope of the hill towards Nicki. “There you are!” The relief was clear in her roommate’s voice.

  “Just needed some fresh air,” Alex said. Then she gestured over to the bench where Sif was still sitting. “I was having a chat with Sif.”

  “Is everything alright?” Nicki asked. She couldn’t hide her worry.

  “Sure.” Alex tugged another strand of blonde hair out of her face. “I’m a bit restless so I’m going to head over to Merlin’s and work on some iron.”

  “Do you need some help?”

  “No, I’ll be fine.” Alex rolled on the balls of her feet for a moment. “Just restless from last night. Figure I might as well put it to good use.”

  It was obvious that Nicki wanted to say or ask something, but wasn’t sure how. Alex didn’t want to know what would make Nicki so nervous. Instead, she stepped past her roommate and briefly knocked their shoulders.

  “I’ll be home later,” Alex promised.

  “Just make sure you get your homework done,” Nicki said. “We’re in the final stretch.”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Nicki didn’t stop her as she walked away. Alex hoped that Nicki didn’t try to talk with Sif– that idea made her stomach twist uncomfortably. Reaching into her bag, Alex pulled out her keys and ran a finger over the leather sheath of her iron dagger. It didn’t take her long to find her car and start heading for Merlin’s house. She turned on the radio and allowed herself to hum along with a song she sort of knew during the short drive across the river.

  Professor Ambrose’s house was a welcome and calm sight to Alex as she pulled up. His hedges were overgrown and rough from lack of care, but the gargoyles on either side of his doorway were the same as ever. Looking towards the house, Ale
x searched for any signs that Merlin was home. His SUV wasn’t in front of the one-story house and there were no visible lights on. While it was a Sunday with the school year wrapping up, Alex supposed that he was probably at his office on campus. That was better for her.

  She walked up to the back door leading to Merlin’s yard and opened it quickly. Nothing had changed. She ran a finger over the back of one of the wrought iron chairs on his patio. Her magic hummed in response to the smoothness of the cool iron against her skin.

  The workshop was locked, but that was solved with a bit of magic. Alex stepped into the dark workshop and hit the light switch. With a soft buzz, the lights around the walls lit up. Alex set her bag down on the nearest worktable next to a half-finished iron candelabra. With her magic, she stoked up a fire in the nearest furnace. Pulling over a rolling tool rack, Alex collected some of the spare iron bars Merlin kept on hand.

  Her eyes traveled to the safe in the workshop floor. Stopping in place, Alex closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. Her magic crept through her limbs and with a gentle push, Alex spread it through the room. It hung in the air like a fine mist, too soft and subtle for anyone to see, but as Alex focused, she could see through it. All the iron in the workshop gleamed to her, and there was an outline of all the tools, tables, and the two forges.

  And she could see the safe. Merlin had poured a layer of iron dust across the top of the steel door. Yet despite the security between her and the contents, Alex could sense the hum of magic from both the Iron Chalice and Mjǫllnir. Both called to her. There was an urgency to it that she’d never noticed before and Alex took a step towards the safe. Two voices in her head were louder now. She could somewhat recognize the deeper voice of Thor and his sharp tones. The other one was softer and more worried, but she figured it had to be Gofiben.

  “Enough,” Alex said out loud. She shook her head. “I have work to do.”

  She opened her eyes. The magic snapped back like a rubber band, rushing into her chest and making her dizzy. It passed quickly and Alex marched over to the furnace, determined to get to work. Keeping tight control of her magic, Alex forced it through the hammer and into the hot pieces of metal. One by one, she pounded magic into the iron pieces until they gleamed with her own power. Dark silver sparks danced beneath the surface as she found a rhythm.

  Merlin’s modern furnace fell away. She could see another furnace; this one was much smaller and rougher. It was half in the ground to help keep in the heat, but the flames danced over the coals in the same way. The smell of smoke and hot metal was familiar. The tongs pulling out the pieces of iron were different and the hands were too large. Yet the actions were the same.

  It changed again. This furnace was in a small building with long benches along the walls. There was a large pile of wood just waiting for use and iron axe heads and swords spread out on the benches. A strand of blonde hair fell into their face, but they didn’t bother with it. Familiar movements: pulling the iron from the heat and forming it into shape. Magic flared from their fingertips and through their Hammer. This time they were aware of a hum from the Hammer itself.

  Another forge, another place and another time, but always the familiar action. Their fingers knew the way even when weaker muscles protested. The magic followed their commands and settled into the heart of the iron. It pulsed with life and waited for its time. They made a Sword, a Chalice, and a Hammer. There were more items. They saw an odd iron container, like an urn or a jar. There was a Chain that was not forged by their hands but held too often with power hungry intentions. The magic followed the intentions and settled into it anyway. There was a Brooch that shimmered with power after too many touches.

  The sound of a door opening pulled her back. Alex blinked and looked up sharply. Her heart pounded as the urge to fight took over. Merlin was standing in the doorway, frowning as he took in the pile of finished iron bars. Exhaling, Alex felt the fatigue in her muscles and wondered how long she’d been working. She quickly looked back down to the fire where another piece of iron was heating up.

  “Alex?” Merlin called. “What are you doing here?”

  “Working on iron for the next Gate,” Alex replied. She didn’t bother looking up. There was a layer of sweat across her skin and she suddenly wished that she’d brought some clothes to change into when she was done. “With the situation in India, I want to be able to leave soon.”

  “You still have finals to worry about.”

  “I suppose,” Alex said. Those didn’t really matter that much, but it was a fight she wouldn’t win. “Still, if we can secure Ravenslake, at least for a little while, then we can go to India and see what is happening there.”

  “Alex, there is time. You can let Morgana and I worry about that,” Merlin said kindly. “It’s our job.”

  “No,” Alex said. Looking at him, Alex met his surprised gaze. “It’s my job. I’m the Iron Soul. It’s my job more than anyone else’s.”

  “That’s not true,” Merlin protested. “Morgana and I have more experience. We’ve been helping in this fight for years. I appreciate that you are taking it all so seriously, but you still have a life, Alex.” Alex did another round of hammering. He didn’t speak again until the metal had started to cool and Alex paused to mop up some sweat from her face. “Your growing awareness of your other lives has Morgana and I concerned, Alex. Lately you’ve been saying things and-”

  “You don’t understand,” Alex said. She shoved the iron bar back into the coals and watched the sharp orange light flicker across the black surface of the coals. “I’m not just aware of them, Merlin. I hear them. All the time now. Just this constant dull drone at the back of my skull. Someone is always talking, someone always has something to say, but most of the time they all talk at once.” She looked over at Merlin with a raised eyebrow. “Even now, they’re all chiming in on this decision to tell you.”

  “Alex?” Merlin’s mouth was opening and shutting as he sputtered for something to say.

  Chuckling, Alex shook her head and picked up the tongs. “Wild, huh?” She dug through the coals and found the iron bar. Pulling it out, Alex smiled at the gleaming red hot metal and laid it across the anvil. “Even today: I keep getting flashes of insight on how to be a better smith. Don’t get me wrong, I could do it before, but now I have all these other little ideas of how to be better at it. Ways to improve. Of course, right now I’m just preparing for another Iron Gate and not trying to make anything fancy.”

  “You’re sure?” Merlin finally managed to ask. “You’re positive? It isn’t just… occasionally?”

  “No,” Alex answered. She picked up one of the larger hammers. “Not just occasionally.” Bringing the hammer down, Alex relished the sharp metallic ring and the way that the hot iron bar bent beneath the blow. “Sometimes someone is louder than the others. Thor was loudest last night, and then when I was with Avani I think Lokpal pushed through more.” She didn’t give him a chance to reply and hit the metal again. “It comes and goes.”

  “But that’s…” Merlin stayed across the room and just watched Alex.

  She didn’t look at him. Alex kept pulling on her magic and struck the metal once again. There was a shimmer of dark silver just beneath the surface. There was a tug in Alex’s gut towards the iron. It was enough for this one. Holding it with the tongs, Alex lowered it into the water and listened as the hot metal hissed. The sound was delicious in a way she’d never appreciated before, and it sent a pleasant shiver up her spine.

  “What do you want me to say?” Merlin asked. He was half collapsed against a work table, his eyes dark with sadness. “This is unexpected, Alex. I knew, of course, that things were slipping through. You’d said things that…” Shaking his head, Merlin lowered his gaze from Alex.

  “There’s nothing to say,” Alex replied. “I didn’t say anything because I know you can’t do anything about it. At this point, it doesn’t matter.” Alex gave him a smile when he looked up at her in shock. “Besides, I don’t want to be one of those
depressing, annoying heroes who whines too much. This isn’t something that needs fixing. It’s a bit weird right now, but the others might be able to help me. This makes more sense for a reincarnation.”

  “But Alex…. This is…” Merlin was struggling and sputtering again. “It isn’t fair you. There’s so many of them and you’re…”

  “Oh, Merlin,” Alex said. “Me, you and Morgana, all the creatures caught in our world from Timothy to Emrys and all those Sídhe and even the Demons… we’re all the cursed. All of us are cursed in different ways by the power of iron.” Shaking her head, Alex used the tongs to pick up the next iron bar. “The Iron Cursed. It isn’t fair or easy: we just have to live with it. And that’s what I’m going to do. Live with it.”