The Iron Chalice

by J. M. Briggs

  “Are there tunnels and caves there?” Bran asked with a raised eyebrow. “Of the sort we’re looking for I mean.”

  “I don’t know; I didn’t see anything about mining or caves when I was googling last night, but Pembrokeshire Coast is the area that Morgana suggested,” Alex explained calmly as she leaned against the counter. “It’s a modern national park in Wales, but it covers something like 240 square miles and runs along the coast. I wish Morgana had been able to give us a more… exact area.”

  “She probably doesn’t know herself anymore,” Nicki said. Picking up, Alex’s plate she gestured towards the eggs questioningly. Alex shook her head and Nicki tossed the plastic plate into the sink. “The landmarks are probably different, the village is long gone and whatever roads or paths they used are long buried under layers of dirt. Say what you like about Glastonbury, but that tor does at least provide one hell of a landmark.”

  “So it’s all on divination,” Bran muttered thoughtfully. “How about you Alex? Anything yet? You had the dreams about the Sídhe tunnels before you were captured.”

  “Yeah,” Alex replied with a barely visible shudder. Her fingers tightened harshly around her coffee mug and she didn’t look at Bran. “But I haven’t had any dreams like that.”

  There was a pained note to the way Alex said those words that made Nicki inwardly flinch. Alex was probably having nightmares of her ex-boyfriend stabbing her and leaving her to die. Probably having nightmares about Aiden dying or something god awful happening to Earth since it was apparently her role in life to protect the Iron Realm. Yeah, Nicki decided as she turned away from the other two mages and dished up the next batch of fried eggs, she was a bitch.

  9

  Light in the Forge

  721 B.C.E. North Pembrokeshire Coast

  Gofiben was staring them with wide brown eyes that made the young man look much younger. The awe on his face had melted away, leaving worry lines and the tiny wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. For a moment, Merlin couldn’t help but think of another pair of wide brown eyes that had looked at him in shock and awe so long ago, when Merlin told him that he could use magic. Despite the horror that had followed that young man’s life, and the guilt that Merlin occasionally felt for how Arto’s story had ended, he had always cherished that first memory.

  The rush of emotion left him frozen in place. Merlin couldn’t speak as the words lodged painfully in his throat. Morgana looked at him with concern which dissolved into a soft, knowing look. She rested her hand on his arm and turned her attention back to Gofiben. As the young man turned to look at her instead, Merlin felt his throat loosen and he could breathe again.

  “As Merlin was saying Gofiben, magic appears most strongly when it is needed. There are always traces of it in the world, but strong, powerful magic is a tool of mages to protect this world.”

  “But doesn’t that mean that magic is needed now, then?” Gofiben’s eyes darted between Morgana and Merlin. “If I’m a mage I mean, that’s how it works, right?”

  He was a clever lad, better than Merlin had expected. The look of worry on the young man’s face helped pull Merlin back to the present and he coughed slightly to clear his throat. Nodding in response to Gofiben’s question, he gently patted Morgana’s hand in silent thanks for her support. Forcing a small smile, he tried to relax as Morgana pulled her hand away, and his fingers clenched at the air in search of his staff.

  “I’m afraid that you bring up an excellent point,” Merlin admitted to Gofiben with a proud little smile that quickly turned into a frown. “It could have to do with that Old One we encountered on our way here, I’m afraid. She seemed interested in us, and wasn’t surprised that we were able to fight back against her.”

  “An Old One,” Morgana repeated doubtfully. “But they’ve been in the Iron Realm for centuries. Cyrridven for example and she’s an ally of the Iron Realm.”

  “Indeed she is.” Merlin glanced her way before looking back to Gofiben, eager to see how the young man would respond. “But she is far from the only one. Many have been exiled into our world over the years, and some are even worshiped.” It didn’t hide his distasteful frown and noticed that Gofiben shifted uncomfortably. The young man looked nervous and a shadow of disappointment covered his face for moment, but he raised his eyes to watch them again. Merlin sighed at the idea of a mage having been one of those apparent worshippers, but that was the result of the boy’s upbringing, he reminded himself sternly. “Perhaps there are too many of them in our world now or perhaps… one of them has become a true danger.”

  “Badb,” Morgana announced sharply with a dark expression and stormy, green eyes. “She was bold enough to challenge us for….” she trailed off with a tentative look towards Gofiben. “You may be right Merlin, perhaps she has something planned.”

  “But what? And is she alone?” Merlin questioned. His fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to think. “And why now?”

  “We don’t know enough about the greater scheme of the worlds to be aware of other matters.” Morgana gave him a pointed look. “Perhaps events elsewhere are the cause of our troubles. We still suffer infestations of former Sídhe slaves thanks to their previous wars of conquest: it is not impossible that something similar is happening in another branch.”

  “Perhaps,” Merlin agreed. Looking back to the boy, Merlin felt a twinge of guilt at Gofiben’s obvious confusion. “Forgive us, please; two old mages trying to sort out things too quickly.” He gestured towards the furnace with a fond look. “You had some work you wanted to do, please don’t let us distract you.”

  “Well, the thing is…. What I mean to say,” Gofiben started to explain nervously, tripping over his own words. “There is something that I need to tell you, though I’m not sure how to start-”

  The door flap behind them opened, bringing in a cool rush of night air that made Merlin and Morgana both spin around sharply. Behind them in the doorway was a young man about Gofiben’s age who looked startled to see them there. Gofiben moved quickly around him and Morgana to stand at the young man’s side, almost protectively.

  “This is my friend Bran,” Gofiben introduced with a hint of nervousness. His eyes moved between his friend and the mages before him. “He works with me here in the forge whenever he’s not in the fields. Another set of hands is useful.”

  “I see,” Merlin greeted. He forced himself to smile as he turned his attention fully to the newcomer.

  Gofiben’s reaction was a bit distressing, and Merlin wondered what it was that he was so concerned about. Bran was a strong looking young man, though he was not as broad and strong looking as Gofiben. His build was slighter and he stood a few inches shorter than his friend, with messy, long dark-brown hair only half contained in a braid, brown eyes bright with curiosity at their presence in the forge and a scruffy little beard. Merlin glanced at him and nodded with a small smile before raising his gaze to meet Bran’s eyes.

  Wind howled along the coastline bringing the smell of the sea straight to him. In the distance, he could hear the low rumble of thunder and taste the scent of the coming rain on the air. The soft cries of the animals made him smile as he turned to see a dog rushing about to herd the stray sheep. Thunder rolled once again and he had a strange sense of foreboding.

  Merlin shook his head as the vision cleared, and coughed as the smell of the smoke from the forge assaulted his nose. For a moment he had trouble remembering just where he was, but the metallic taste in the air helped him gather his senses. A large hand was holding his arm and Merlin turned to find Gofiben next to him with a sheepish smile on his face. The young man’s eyes were soft and gentle as he guided Merlin back to the bed and let the old mage sink down onto it. He looked over at Bran and found the boy staring at Morgana, no doubt experiencing yet another Connection judging from how wide his eyes were.

  “Sorry about that,” Gofiben said. He stepped back from Merlin and looked towards Morgana. “I was about to tell you about him. Wanted to warn you tha
t you might have a…. Connection you called it, with Bran.”

  “No harm done,” Merlin assured the young smith before looking back at Bran. “Though I am surprised.”

  His heart was pounding his chest almost painfully, and for a moment he felt as if he’d been tossed out of a boat and left to paddle for his life. Merlin knew he needed to say something more, reassure the newcomer and explain what was happening to him, but he was at a loss of where to begin. Two mages in one village: the thought both excited and worried him.

  The young man, Bran, looked nervous and his eyes were darting between them both with a look that was an uncomfortable blend of curiosity, confusion, and terror. Merlin could sympathize, it was one thing to experience a connection with a trusted friend who was as confused as you were, but another thing entirely to walk into a room and experience two in rapid succession. Thankfully his fellow mage straightened her back and moved away from the door to give the young mage more space. She glanced his way with an odd expression on her face, a blend of excitement and resignation.

  “Two mages,” Morgana said as she slowly walked over to him. “Two in the same little village.” She put a hand on his shoulder, but her fingers tightened almost painfully into his flesh. “This isn’t just chance.”

  “Indeed.” Merlin turned his attention to Gofiben. “You said you should have warned us: you two have experienced a Connection before then.”

  “It was a few weeks ago,” Bran said, speaking up from his place near the doorway. “We’ve known each other for years, but I went with my father on a trip to the north with some of the livestock. When I came back and saw Gofiben again I had a vision.”

  “We didn’t think much of it at the time,” Gofiben explained quickly as if he feared they were in trouble. “Thought maybe I’d been in the forge too long or we’d eaten something that disagreed with us. I mean… there wasn’t anyone we could ask about it and we didn’t want to worry anyone. And nothing else happened, so we just sort of decided to forget about it.”

  “A Connection occurs as magic grows in the realm,” Morgana explained. Her tone was softer than before and she finally released his shoulder. “It is not a small thing; it doesn’t just happen. I’ve only experienced it a few times myself, but it occurs when mages meet.”

  “Does it always happen?” Bran asked.

  “In my experience,” Morgana said. She moved away from him and towards the young men. “It is the magic of the two mages reacting to each other.”

  Bran looked towards Gofiben and met his friend’s eyes. Merlin almost smiled as he watched some kind of silent conversation take place between the two of them. Gofiben had regained much of his color, though Bran still looked a bit pale. Shifting on the bed, Merlin considered standing up but decided that he probably appeared less threatening where he was. Morgana was still tense despite her attempt to appear friendly. Bran glanced her way once again and toyed with his hands.

  “So why are we like this?” Bran questioned looking to Gofiben.

  “You were just born with the potential,” Morgana explained to him. “I suspect that there are a few in every generation with the potential, but magic comes only when it is needed.”

  “So what are we supposed to do with it?”

  “They said that we’re mages because there is a threat to the world,” Gofiben told his friend, reaching over and resting one of his large calloused hands on his friend’s shoulder. Then he looked over at Morgana. “I’m sorry, but maybe you should start from the beginning for Bran. I should have told you about him earlier… I was just so shocked myself.”

  Merlin watched Morgana bite back a sigh, but she nodded and explained everything to Bran. Gofiben remained next to his friend offering his support, though Merlin saw his eyes glance towards the forge every so often. A smile tugged at his own lips as he considered the behavior. It struck him as odd that a young man who just learned he had magical powers would only want to return to his forge, but then again, hadn’t he done the same? He’d run from Cyrridven when she’d told him of his heritage as the son of a Sídhe. He’d returned home and stubbornly polished his first bronze sword to give it a sharp edge despite anything his mother said.

  “Wow.” Bran stared at them with a stunned expression. “Just… wow.”

  “And now you know what’s going on, or at least what we know for the time being,” Morgana told Bran, and Merlin realized that she had finished her explanation.

  “So you think that something is going to happen? Do you know what?” Bran questioned.

  “No; we’ve only become aware that there is even a potential problem today,” Morgana replied tightening her fingers into a fist.

  “But what about-”

  “Please,” Merlin interrupted. “We won’t find answers to what is happening so easily tonight.” He gestured towards the forge with a small, fond smile, remembering the times he and Arto had worked iron together. “You had work to do, please don’t let us keep you.”

  “Are you sure?” Gofiben asked in an almost timid voice. Merlin smiled at the young man and nodded. “Alright then,” Gofiben said carefully as he glanced towards Bran.

  “If you don’t mind we would like to remain and watch for a little while,” Morgana added in a gentle tone, mindful of startling the gentle young man.

  “That’s fine,” Gofiben assured them. “Do you know much about smithing?”

  “I understand the theory,” Morgana informed him with a calm nod as she moved away from the two young men and back towards the bed.

  Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle as he nodded. “Yes,” he answered wistfully. “I know a great deal about smithing. Please don’t let us keep you any longer.”

  “Uh, alright…” Gofiben managed to say, still shifting nervously in place. “If you need anything-”

  “We won’t linger too long,” Morgana promised. “As we told you Gofiben, you seem to be already using your magic when you smith. Watching you and Bran work will help us determine a starting point for teaching you.”

  “Then you’re really going to teach us?” Bran questioned in an awed voice as he stared at Morgana.

  Merlin chuckled; the boy seemed to have recovered from his shock and fear. Morgana glanced back at him with a warning look, but he could see a spark of something in her green eyes and sat up a little straighter.

  “Yes,” Merlin answered with a wide smile. “We are going to teach you.”

  Bran nodded with a small smile starting to form on his face. Morgana walked over to the bed and sat down next to him without a word. Gofiben called Bran’s name and the two jumped into action. Bran put more fuel into the furnace and used the bellows to fan the low coals that had begun to cool since they came in. Gofiben selected a long rough piece of iron from a pile near the wall and thrust into the fire. Bran pushed open the door flap and tied it open, letting a cool evening breeze into the roundhouse. Merlin became aware of the late hour with a look out at the darkness, but couldn’t bring himself to move away.

  Heat rolled across the roundhouse from the fiery furnace as smoke billowed up through the thatched roof. The flames and the moving bodies of the two young men cast strange and marvelous shadows on the far side of the small space. They didn’t speak much to each other as they worked. Gofiben dominated the space with his broad shoulders and the swing of his arm as he brought the hammer down against the long strip of iron he was crafting into a sword.

  Bran moved around his friend with a graceful ease. He retrieved wood and fed the furnace each time that Gofiben took the metal from it, and kept the heat high with the use of the leather billows. Merlin couldn’t help but smile as he watched the two work so smoothly. Gofiben may have been the smith at work, but he could see how Bran’s steady presence helped him move so quickly.

  Merlin watched Gofiben’s hand very closely as he gripped his hammer. In the orange light spilling from the forge he almost missed it, but then when Gofiben’s hand passed through his own shadow Merlin could just see the faint outline of magic aro
und his hammer. The soft bronze sparks around his fingers that were only visible in the shadow as they jumped from his hand and sank into the metal of his iron hammer made Merlin smile.

  Glancing over at Morgana, Merlin saw her own eyes fixed on Gofiben’s hammer and smiled to himself. She had noted the glow of magic as well. It was impressive that the young man was using magic without even realizing it. His connection to his magic was very strong, though teaching him to control it could be something of a challenge. Merlin shifted his gaze to Bran as the young man moved around his friend without hesitation. His every action and move supported Gofiben’s own actions. Merlin smiled wistfully once more as a soft sigh escaped him. Teaching these two was now a priority along with finding out why magic was growing. Gofiben had been enough of a surprise, but Bran’s own magic made it clear that something was changing in the world.

  “It would seem that we have a purpose once more,” Morgana said in a low voice that made Merlin’s heart skip a beat. Her words were tired, but he could hear a slight undertone of hope in them. “Even if it is to be another war.”