by J. M. Briggs
35
Worth the Sacrifice
The sunlight made the ripples of the lake shimmer and in the trees, Alex could hear the birds singing. There was the soft sound of water dripping around her as snow melted off the branches of trees and dripped to the ground. It was a beautiful winter morning, but Alex only felt cold and sore as she stared out over the water. There was no sign of the battle beyond the trodden down snow and rocks: there was nothing that indicated that two ancient beings so powerful they were held as gods had fought and died last night. It felt empty, like the world was already trying to forget.
Alex shifted as a sigh escaped her and pushed a strand of hair that had escaped her messy braid behind her ear. Exhaustion weighed down on her, but Alex couldn’t bring herself to leave. She knew that she wouldn’t sleep even if she did return to her dorm. The sunlight caught something metal a few steps away from her and Alex moved to retrieve the dagger she’d dropped the night before.
The blade felt cold against her palm as the memory of Cathanáil in her hands made her shiver. Alex pushed away the small wave of sorrow and longing that the thought of the sword being lost brought forward. She tried to think of Aiden and Cyrridven, determined to think of something that she could do. It was tempting to march into the hospital and see just how much magic she could give back to Aiden, but she knew that Merlin or Morgana would be nearby to prevent just that. She didn’t find the idea of being wrestled out of the ICU by her professors a pleasant one as it would likely get her banned.
“Shit,” Alex muttered as she slipped the dagger back into the sheath hidden in her purse. The bag dropped to the ground and Alex shoved her hands in her pockets. “Now what?” she asked out loud, glaring at the water. “Look, I’m not hero material world.” Alex paused and shook her head. “Okay maybe I’m hero material, but I’m not The Hero material.”
Alex kicked a stone into the lake and watched the ripples with a dejected sigh. She’d been happy with Arthur being the Iron Soul and being with him. His face with cold eyes and that cruel smirk flashed before her eyes and Alex shuddered. Shaking her head, she wrapped her coat tighter around herself. The sound of a car on the road made Alex tense and she glanced up the hillside cautiously. Her own car was pulled off onto the shoulder on a straight stretch to keep it out of the way. She waited for the car to pass by, but instead, the red sports car pulled off behind her own car. A weary sigh escaped Alex, but she watched as Morgana climbed out.
The professor made her way down the slope calmly, not seeming at all worried about slipping in the snow. Morgana’s boots crunched in the mix of slush and rocks that the battle last night had mixed together. Alex turned and looked back over the water as a cloud slipped in front of the sun and dimmed the harsh light.
“Any change?” Alex asked softly as Morgana came to a stop next to her.
“No, he’s still in a coma. The nursing staff seems to be very good though and are keeping a close eye on him. They even bent the two-person rule and let Nicki in to see him late last night.”
“That’s good to know,” Alex managed to say. “I know she’s worried.”
“We all are,” Morgana told her gently before she shivered at a sudden blast of wind. Morgana buttoned up her long coat. “You did kill Chernobog right?” Morgana teased.
“Well he turned to dust, which is the only remotely good thing that happened last night, so I really hope so.” Morgana sighed at Alex’s response and she felt a little guilty. “I suppose winters are colder here than in the Britain where you grew up,” she said in a more cheerful voice that came off just sounding pathetic.
“Somewhat. The isles are affected by the Gulf Stream,” Morgana informed her with a chuckle. “And when I was young it was quite warm there comparatively.” Morgana paused and glanced towards Alex. “It wasn’t until the last Iron Gate was created and the Sídhe were forced out of our world that I learned how cold it could be.” Alex threw Morgana a confused look at the conversation change. “Something about what we had done triggered a period of much colder weather in the isles. That combined with all the iron in the whole of the isles, not that there was much of it yet, being used on the last gate and Arto’s death meant that everything descended into chaos pretty quickly.”
“So no happily ever after then.”
“No, Medraut stabbed my brother like he had Arto’s father, my stepfather Uthyrn, and Arto died of that wound and magical exhaustion. Not a happy ending.”
Lost once more, Alex struggled for something to say. Morgana seemed content to let her lead the conservation and waited silently.
“Did you scry for me?” Alex asked, trying to sound calm even as she held back a shiver.
“I didn’t have to,” Morgana informed her, stepping up next to Alex and joining her in looking out over the lake. “Merlin doesn’t blame you, Alex, no one does.”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“Nicki is hurting and afraid of losing her best friend,” Morgana said gently. “She knows that you’d never harm Aiden.”
“But it’s my fault that he had to heal me. I was an idiot. I trusted Arthur! I lo-” Alex stopped herself and squeezed her eyes shut tightly.
“Merlin and I are much older than you; we have a great deal more experience than you,” Morgana informed her sternly. “And we were fooled. We allowed ourselves to assume that just because it looked like what we expected that it was real. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that I’ve always felt a strong kinship with you while Arthur irritated me. I didn’t notice that Arthur and you were giving blood like clockwork or test that the blood he was using on his spells was his own. We failed, Alex, and we had a much greater responsibility and foundation to draw from. We made the bad assumptions that Arthur wanted us to make.” A loud sigh escaped Morgana sending a wisp of curling white breath into the air. “I should know better than to simply believe that history is repeating itself.”
They were both silent. Alex felt a little better after the near rant from Morgana, but the silence felt unnatural. It felt like she needed to acknowledge what Morgana had said somehow. Licking her lips, Alex gazed out over the lake and tried to think of what to say.
“I thought that history did repeat itself,” Alex finally remarked, turning just enough so that she could see Morgana’s face.
“Patterns and themes are repeated,” Morgana agreed with small knowing smile. “But it is never exactly the same. There are always a few tiny changes that are easy to miss. At first glance it seems to be the same; it seems to be the same story replaying itself and that lures you into thinking that you know how the story ends. However, those little details build and build and change the course of the story into something you never expected.”
“Are we talking about history or literature?”
“They are both stories Alex. Some are simply believed to be accurate.”
“I get the feeling you’re trying to tell me something,” Alex said around a soft tired chuckle. “But I didn’t sleep worth shit last night and I can still feel phantom pains in my side so pretend that I’m five.”
“Don’t assume that you know how this story is going to go. Don’t assume that you know your place in it. Be prepared to be surprised,” Morgana informed her with a knowing look. “What comes next… well, I may be three thousand years old and a professor of history, but I’m not going to pretend that I know that.”
“I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not,” Alex sighed as she tilted her head. “That doesn’t offer me any idea of what I do next.”
The slamming of a car door made Alex and Morgana both turn and look up the hill. Morgana stepped forward slightly placing herself between Alex and the road. The action made Alex want to scream or hit something, but she stayed silent. Lance walked into view a moment later with Jenny on his heels. They looked around on the shoulder of the road for a second before Jenny poked Lance’s arm and pointed down towards them.
Alex as rooted to the spot as she watched the pair descend the hill. Lanc
e held Jenny’s arm gently to help her keep her footing and shy glances kept passing between them. Her lips twisted into a small smile and something loosened slightly in her chest as they came to a stop in front of them. Lance let go of Jenny and the pair stepped apart from each other, but it was a hesitant move.
“I thought you guys were going home this morning,” Alex said weakly as she regarded the pair with trepidation. “It’s Christmas time and you should be with-”
“Alex,” Lance’s clear gentle voice called cutting her off.
Alex swallowed and silently stared at them for a long moment. Both were looking at her with expressions that were a mixture of pity, guilt, confusion and determination. Jenny stepped forward and before Alex could move wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly.
“I’m so sorry,” Jenny whispered in a soft almost broken voice. “God honey, I’m so sorry.”
Bringing up her own arms, Alex embraced Jenny and lowered her face into Jenny’s shoulder. Alex inhaled the rich vanilla scent of Jenny’s shampoo and body wash. It took her back to some of their Sunday mornings where they’d be in bathroom together getting ready; Jenny for church and her for soccer practice. Things had been simpler then and for a moment Alex ached for those days.
“Thanks,” Alex managed weakly. “I know that this has got to be hard on you too.”
“It’s hell,” Jenny agreed with a watery laugh. “All sorts of questions that I can’t answer and way too many memories that went from bittersweet to creepy.” Jenny released her and stepped back, wiping at her own teary eyes. “I tried to call the Pendred residence, but the number has already been disconnected.” Jenny swallowed and shook her head. “I just… I needed you to know that I’m sorry.”
She was supposed to say something now, she knew that, but Alex simply couldn’t think of anything to say. This was a situation that she had no clue about. Morgana was standing nearby watching them, but her expression was much softer than it had ever been before when regarding Jenny. The sound of another car made them all look up the hill. Two doors were closed and Bran and Nicki walked into view. They both lingered on the shoulder of the road with Nicki watching Bran before he carefully stepped onto the slushy hillside. Alex quickly began to climb back up the hill and Morgana was only a few steps behind her.
“Was there an ad saying where I was?” Alex managed to say with weak laugh.
“You weren’t answering your phone,” Bran told her. “It wasn’t hard to guess where you’d go. Plus your car kind of makes it easy.” Bran paused on the hill and regarded Alex for a moment.
“You look like shit,” he greeted with a shake of his head.
“Thanks, you’re so sweet,” Alex grumbled but without any real sting as she looked at Bran. The bags under his eyes actually looked darker than hers and his face was pale and drawn like he was in great constant pain. “You look really bad yourself,” she said in a teasing tone though she couldn’t keep the worry from her voice.
She looked over at Nicki who was pale with her long red hair in messy pigtail braids and dark rings under her eyes. Bran snorted and tilted his head in slight agreement as he moved over to one of the larger rocks on the hill. He waved Alex back and lowered himself onto the edge of the rock. Bran steadied himself by leaning forward on his cane and in the corner of her eye Alex saw Morgana smile. Nicki stayed nearby but was silent as Jenny and Arthur moved away from the mages.
“Thanks, Alex,” Bran replied with small forced smile and a glance towards Jenny and Lance. After a moment he nodded towards the lake. “Nightmares,” he muttered as he looked out over the lake. “Kept seeing a skull and some kind of weird old cup in a small cave. Really creepy and I kept waking up, but then promptly saw it again as soon as I closed my eyes.”
Morgana straightened up and looked thoughtfully at Bran. For a moment Alex was certain that the older mage was seeing something that she wasn’t. Nicki raised her head with a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.
“Did this cup have the triskele symbol on the center of the stand?” Morgana asked carefully. “Shaped like a chalice except with a large bowl and smaller stand?”
“Yeah,” Bran replied with a small frown of surprise and worry. “Why? What did I see?”
A brilliant laugh escaped Morgana as lifted her face towards the sun as the clouds finally moved to reveal its warmth. She made a soft happy sighing sound before she turned towards Alex and smiled. “It would seem that the Iron Realm has decided on your next course of action.”
“What are you talking about?” Alex demanded, concerned about Morgana’s sudden change of attitude. She exchanged a glance with Bran, “What did he see?”
“It’s like the sword,” Morgana answered with growing excitement in her voice sounding younger that Alex had ever heard before. There was a hint of giddiness in her tone. “Maybe we can turn this around.”
“But the sword is gone!” Alex protested as a mixed wave of anger, confusion, and guilt washed over her again. “It’s probably on the bottom of the Indian Ocean by now!”
“That would be in our favor,” Morgana observed with a soft chuckle. “We have significant allies in India amongst the Hindu Pantheon. Shiva especially.” Alex wanted to ask what she meant but had a feeling that she wouldn’t like or understand the answer and there was just too much going through her head right now. “Besides,” Morgana continued. “The sword is just the first of the Iron Treasures, not the only one.”
“What?” Nicki asked in a soft voice as she stepped towards Morgana.
“Cathanáil was made by the first incarnation of the Iron Soul, but that was not the only life of the Iron Soul or the only time they faced battle.” Morgana smiled and looked sideways towards Bran with a curious expression. “Another notable Iron Treasure is the Iron Chalice.”
“Iron Chalice?” Bran repeated looking at Morgana like he was ready to run or be ill.
“Indeed. It is most likely the mythological basis of the Holy Grail and several objects in Celtic mythology. The Iron Chalice was the creation of an incarnation of the Iron Soul who lived around 680 B.C.E. and had the power to heal any wound when charged with the power of the Iron Soul.”
“Heal any-” Alex gasped as she jumped towards Morgana. “Where is it? Why didn’t you mention it last night?”
“Can it save Aiden?” Nicki asked urgently almost tripping on the rocks.
“Because when that Iron Soul incarnation died the Chalice was hidden away. Cathanáil’s magic is weak, but it is always present with or without the Iron Soul which is why it was placed in Cyrridven’s care,” Morgana explained thought she sighed and bit her lip. “Sadly, Merlin and I never even saw the Chalice. We only learned of it after the fact and its location was never revealed to us,” she added delicately with a tight expression. “It can’t be found by scying and outside of digging up the whole of Wales I have no idea of how to find it,” Morgana said before looking back at Bran. “But perhaps there is someone who can find it now.”
“Me?” Bran squeaked, clutching his cane tightly in both hands. He looked ready to tumble off the rock onto the ground if it got him a little further from Morgana.
“You saw it in a vision.”
“I saw an old cup; how does that lead us to it? I haven’t a clue of where the cave is.”
“Wales most likely,” Morgana answered, “But potentially as far east as Stonehenge. During the Celtic Age after the bronze trade ended, travel became much rarer. I can’t imagine he went much further.”
Again questions bubbled up inside of Alex, but she couldn’t seem to give them voice. Glancing towards Nicki, Alex could tell that the other girl felt the same way.
“Do you think we can find it?” Nicki asked Morgana in a tightly controlled voice.
The older mage turned and looked at each of them in turn. Then Bran clutched at his head as his eyes slid closed and he swayed on the rock. Lance moved the fastest of them all grabbing his shoulder and keeping him steady. Nicki moved towards him and dropped down on his
other side.
“Damn that’s getting old,” Bran cursed as he blinked and shook his head.
“What did you see?” Nicki asked urgently.
“A skull and a cup!” Bran snapped shaking his head and shifting on the rock. The metal of his leg brace squeaked slightly and a soft groan escaped him. “I saw the cave again, but…” he frowned and licked his lips. “But then I saw this guy with a brown beard and an axe in a field for a second. It was weird.” He looked around at the others. “Am I the only one worried about there being a skull?”
Morgana nodded and made a small sound before she turned and started walking up the hill. “Try Wales and see where Bran’s visions lead you,” she called back casually. “It may very well be that Merlin and I overlooked something else.”