The Iron Gate, page 13
part #2 of The Iron Soul Series
She couldn’t go home, Jenny wouldn’t be expecting her for at least another hour, and the idea of seeing her roommate with Lance again made her knees shake. Licking her lips, Alex swallowed and tried to moisten her mouth. A groan of pain escaped Alex as she walked towards the library. Her body ached as if she was truly carrying a heavy weight on her shoulders. Normally she would have paused to admire the shimmer of the red and orange of the setting sun off of the elegant sloping glass of the library’s front and the way it made the old red bricks gleam, but tonight Alex kept her head down and went inside quickly.
Finding a table hidden back in the corner of the literature section, Alex laid her hands on her arms and took slow deep breaths. Tears prickled at her eyes, but Alex closed her eyes tightly, refusing to let them fall. The tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes and traced the contours of her face, distracting her.
“Dammit, Jenny,” Alex whispered. “Dammit, Lance.” A thick lump in her throat made her cough and Alex had to fight to breathe. “And damn you both, Merlin and Morgana!”
12
Battle in the Gorge
809 B.C.E. Near the shores of Loch Torridon
Arto was careful to keep his eyes roaming the landscape but found himself glancing back to Gwenyvar with every few steps. Her shoulders were squared with determination, and her mouth was set in a stern expression. Turning his gaze, Arto focused on rocky outcropping ahead of them. Mountains covered in lush grass and accented by long ridges of rocks surrounded them.
Merlin’s voice from behind them cut through the heavy silence, “How much further?”
“Not much further,” Gwenyvar promised, raising a hand to shelter her eyes from the low sun as she looked around. Arto saw fear flash over her face, but it was quickly gone. “But it will be dark soon. There will be Riders,” Gwenyvar cautioned them in a neutral voice that hid her worry rather well.
“I’m certain of that,” Merlin remarked calmly.
Arto knew without looking that the older mage was leaning on his staff and surveying the mountains and hills around them with a small smile. It was likely that Merlin’s fingers were drumming a tune on his staff in time with the wind and the soft clinking of the many amulets around his neck. He’d be watching for unexpected movement, but showing no concern at the danger, they were walking into. In the many years he’d lived and traveled with Merlin, Arto could only remember a handful of times that he’d ever seen his mentor openly worried.
A change in the lighting made Arto turn back towards Merlin just in time to see his mentor’s green magic swirling together and brightening to form a small orb of light. Ignoring a gasp from Gwenyvar, Merlin hummed softly and placed the orb at the top of his staff. Small vines of green magic snaked out of the orb to secure the light source firmly at the top of the staff. Arto struggled not to smile as he caught the look of surprise and wonder that washed over Gwenyvar’s face. Morgana nodded in agreement, drawing Arto’s eyes to his sister. Morgana opened her palm, and her silvery magic swirled together to form a glowing silver cord that twined itself around her hand, wrist, and fingers.
“We’ll be fine,” Arto promised Gwenyvar. He was trying to sound confident for her sake and pulled himself up to his full height. “We won’t let you be harmed,” he added more gently.
It was a foolish promise to make her, things went wrong all the time, and a large enough force of Riders and Hounds could easily distract them to the point that Gwenyvar would be an easy target. Still knowing that and knowing the fate that awaited Gwenyvar if she was captured made Arto only want to protect her more. After all, she hadn’t been forced to show them the way; she’d chosen to. Otherwise, it might have been days of tracking and risking more attacks on the village. But the heat in his chest and cheeks reminded Arto that he wasn’t just expressing gratitude or doing his duty as a mage.
Gwenyvar smiled at him, her facial features finally relaxing, making her even prettier in the setting sun. She nodded to him, her eyes lighter than before like she truly believed that they could keep her safe. The thought both pleased and worried him. As she started walking forward again, Arto glanced back to find Merlin watching him with an amused expression and barely suppressing a chuckle. His sister was looking at Gwenyvar with a small thoughtful frown. Blushing, Arto turned around quickly and followed Gwenyvar. He nearly stumbled on a rock, just catching himself as Merlin stepped forward and caught his shoulder.
“We aren’t staying, Arto,” Merlin cautioned him gently in a low voice.
Arto swallowed and gave Merlin a quick nod. Moving quickly, he rejoined Gwenyvar and scanned the hillside. His fingers twitched, and Arto to thought about drawing his sword, but Merlin had lectured him many times over the years about moving in unfamiliar terrain with the drawn weapon. There was an itch at the back of his neck that he couldn’t quite shake off.
“What will you do at the tunnel entrance?” Gwenyvar asked him, her brown eyes glancing between him and the landscape.
“Break the connection between their world and ours,” Arto answered, slipping back into more familiar territory. Looking forward, he sighed softly and recited the speech he given many times before to explain how the Sídhe tunnels functioned and limitations on the tunnels. Gwenyvar listened attentively, her gaze jumping to Cathanáil strapped to his back. Arto figured that even with the two-foot blade hidden and protected in the leather sheath, the golden hilt still made for an impressive sight.
“But they can rebuild the tunnel?” Gwenyvar frowned at the sudden thought and bit softly at her lip.
“It takes time and if a region doesn’t have much more that they want than they may not rebuild at all,” Arto told her, gesturing vaguely around them. “I’m sorry to say it, but there aren’t many more young people in your village right now. The Sídhe Queen may target another area.”
“But-” Gwenyvar bit harder at her lip, clearly tore about his remark. “Can’t you… can’t you stop them? Do more than kill the Riders and break the tunnels?” She asked in a rush, her voice almost hysterical. “Otherwise they’ll just come after us again or go after another village.”
Shifting uncomfortably, Arto resisted the urge to duck his head and look away from her. Instead, he swallowed quickly and said, “There isn’t anything else we can do yet.” He paused and licked his lips before adding, “We’re working on it.”
“I’m sorry,” Gwenyvar replied with reddening cheeks. “I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. What you’re doing now… I couldn’t do it.”
“It’s okay,” Arto assured her quickly. He didn’t like the idea that his response had upset her and didn’t like the hurt that he was feeling at her words. Of course, he wanted to do more than stop a few Riders, he wanted to save those that had been taken like his sister and after the test he’d just seen, he even wanted to find a way to help the Changelings. Swallowing, Arto forced down the bile that was threatening to make his physically ill as the memory of the screams echoed in his ears.
“That was the first time I ever saw the test,” he admitted, forcing himself to keep walking. “It was terrible, and I do want to be able to do more against the Sídhe.”
He saw her nod in the corner of his eyes and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. Breathing deeply, Arto frowned as his fingers began to tingle and the itch at the back of his neck worsened. He reached back and scratched the spot quickly as they began to descend into a small narrow gorge. Long shadows stretched out around them, and Arto put a hand on Gwenyvar’s arm to stop her from walking into the scraping.
“Merlin.” Arto studied the darkness around the rocky outcropping and the shade cast of the hillside in the setting sun.
He didn’t turn his attention away from the gorge, fearing that Hounds might already be coming out, but he heard Merlin’s footfalls as he came towards them. A few moments of silence passed, and then Merlin calmly stepped around them to take the lead. The orb of light at the top of his staff brightened, illuminating the immediate area of the gorge. It was deeper than Arto had assumed, dropping down sharply with large rocks limiting his view. The steep slopes of the gorge were a mixture of sharp rocks that were falling apart and pale green vegetation. There was no sound of movement from down the gorge, no birds or small creatures. Carefully, Arto unsheathed Cathanáil and waited for a signal from Merlin.
Finally, Merlin stepped forward, taking careful steps on the slope as he led them in. Arto stayed beside Gwenyvar but was mindful of giving Merlin plenty of space. Behind him, he heard his sister come up behind them to bring up the rear. He exhaled and forced his muscles to relax, gently rolling his shoulders. The familiarity of the situation was soothing, this he understood. He knew what to expect. Cathanáil’s hilt fit perfectly in his hand, and the weight was comforting. As Merlin began to walk forward, Arto pushed his magic into Cathanáil. His skin tingled as the magic he’d pounded into the iron when the sword was forged awoke and Arto closed his eyes. The metal turned warm as white sparks of magic gathered across his skin and seeped into the hilt. With a mental nudge, Arto visualized the magic flowing from the hilt down the blade of the sword.
Opening his eyes, Arto smiled as his magic pulsed down the long blade like cascading light, illuminating the area around him and Gwenyvar. He allowed his eyes to linger on the sword for only a moment, drawing pride and strength from its very existence. The Sídhe were dangerous, they were an illness to his realm, and they had used and badly hurt his sister. This part of his life was simple, and he enjoyed the moment of clarity.
“Stay close to me,” Arto ordered Gwenyvar in a low voice.
They moved forward slowly, taking care to illuminate the shadows behind the large rocks while another guarded. The sun continued to sink in the sky and was gone from their sight as they carefully moved further into the gorge. Small sharp rocks rattled under Arto’s boots and clinked softly with each step despite his best efforts.
A howl echoed through the gorge, high pitched and menacing. Growls and snarls joined the howl, creating a terrible dim that rang down the gorge. Gwenyvar stepped closer to him, placing herself just behind his left shoulder. He could hear her breathing become harsh as she fought the urge to run. Sounds of movement echoed towards them, hooves against stones and the snarling of hounds. Reaching out, Arto gripped Gwenyvar’s shoulder and pushed her towards a large boulder jutting out the side of the gorge.
“Hide,” he growled, raising Cathanáil in front of him.
The blast of a horn echoed down the gorge and into the night air drowning out the Hounds and the hoof beats. He stepped towards the right to give Merlin more space just as a Rider on a tall shimmering steed charged into the light of Merlin’s staff. His mentor moved quickly, whirling the staff back and thrusting his right hand forward. The ground rumbled, and green sparks glistened across Merlin’s hand. Underneath the Rider’s steed, the rocks heaved up and struck the beast in the belly. The steed stumbled, its Riders gripping the saddle with both hands to stay on the beast.
Morgana stepped up next to Arto in a graceful leap and unfurled the glowing cord in her hand. It lashed out through the air past Merlin and struck the horse in its chest. The Rider was thrown to the ground as the steed dissolved in a shower of golden dust that was swirled away by the wind. Jumping forward, Arto gave the Rider no time to recover and raised Cathanáil over his head. The Rider twisted, trying to stand, but his movement exposed the back of his neck to Arto. Cathanáil crashed down on the Rider, and the Síd vanished in a flash of magic.
In the corner of his eye, Morgana’s magic flared once again and flashed through the air to strike down at a Hound that was leaping through the air towards him. Two more Riders were charging towards them alongside three more Hounds. One of the Riders dressed in the most elaborate golden armor Arto had yet seen gestured towards Merlin and unleashed a pulsing orb of energy. Merlin’s green magic swirled before him as the Síd’s attack collided with the magic. Sparks showered down around them, flashing brightly and blinding everyone for a split second.
Unable to see, Arto swung Cathanáil when he heard the snarl of a Hound. He stumbled when Cathanáil collided with something but threw his weight against the blade. An animalistic cry reverberated around him as his vision cleared slightly. A Hound vanished with a small flash of light and Arto fell forward, his knees scraping against the rocks.
“Arto!” Gwenyvar shouted as he shook his head.
The pain cleared his mind and eyes, and once again his gaze swept the area. One Rider was rearing up in front of Merlin with no sign of the other, and two Hounds were snarling at his sister. Taking one hand off of Cathanáil, Arto breathed and willed his magic into his palm. A tingling sensation swept up his arm as white sparks gathered in his right palm. Turning his hand, he shoved the magic towards the Hounds. A bolt of magic burst from his hand, twisting through the air with a crack and striking both Hounds. There were twin cries before the animals fell to the ground.
Morgana glanced at him and nodded quickly before rushing to join Merlin. Moving quickly, Arto swung Cathanáil down on the first injured Hound before it could stand and watched it vanish. The second Hound managed a weak snap of its teeth at him, but Cathanáil’s blade pierced its side, and it was gone. Looking back toward Merlin, Arto tensed as he saw two more Riders rush into view along with a strangely dressed the Sídhe. The new Sídhe wasn’t dressed in the familiar golden armor of the Riders. Instead, the newcomer wore a long blue robe with intricate embroidery design that glistened in the magical light. Violet eyes met his gaze before swinging away towards his sister. Even from his position down the gorge, Arto heard a sharp intake of breath from Morgana.
“The Traitor,” the strange Síd hissed towards Morgana.
His sister moved quickly: a silver blast of magic rushed from her hand towards the newcomer. The Síd gestured, and a golden wall appeared before him, catching Morgana’s magic. A swirl of gold and silver mixed in the air, making the hairs on Arto’s arms stand up and everyone took a careful step back. A growl of anger escaped Morgana, who ran around the small magic storm and unleashed another blast of magic. The newcomer leapt off his steep, crashing to the ground as the animal reared and dissolved. Hounds jumped over the ridge and into view, snapping at Morgana who drew back in surprise. Merlin waved towards Morgana, and a wall of rock rose up between her and the Hounds, allowing a breath of relief to escape Arto.
Two Riders and three Hounds were blocking access to the newcomer, placing themselves between him and the mages. Morgana screamed something that Arto didn’t understand, and her silver magic swirled around the wall that Merlin had made, sending it crashing down on the Hounds trying to attack her. Whimpers two-foot over the huffs of the horses and the snarl of the Hound which hadn’t been caught in the rockslide.
Arto ran towards the fight, his eyes focusing on Morgana long enough to see his sister release two small magic orbs that dissolved the Hounds. A Rider swung his sword toward Merlin who gestured quickly. The Rider was thrown off his steed and against the rocky side of the gorge. Morgana’s magic lashed out once more to strike the horse which dissolved with a sharp cut off cry. Fighting to stand, the Rider gathered a ball of magic which dissipated into the night air when Merlin’s blast hit its chest.
Arto’s eyes locked with those of the remaining Rider who spurred his horse forward. Merlin jumped out of the way of the Rider and grunted in pain as he hit the rocky ground. There was a shout from Morgana, but Arto didn’t properly hear it. Cathanáil glowed in front of him, and he glared at the coming Sídhe. Arto saw Morgana start to run towards him only to be attacked by the strange robed Sídhe with a shower of golden strings that formed a net around her. The sight distracted him: the Rider released a burst of magic that sent him falling to the ground.
His back ached as the sharp rocks dug into him through his clothing. Cathanáil clanged against the ground as it fell from his hand. There was a mixture of shouts from Merlin, Morgana and Gwenyvar and the sound of hoofs against rock. His skin tingled, and he felt the pull of Cathanáil as his magic sparked between his hand and the sword. Opening his eyes, he felt more than saw the Riders bearing down on him. Rolling sharply to the side, Arto narrowly avoided the sharp hoofs of the Sídhe steed. He opened his hand and tugged on his magic, pulling it to him like a fishing net. Cathanáil flew into his hand and Arto fell to the side, swinging Cathanáil down on the leg of the Rider’s steed.
He stumbled to his feet, leveraging himself awkwardly against a small boulder and looked around. Merlin was running towards him while the strange Sídhe in blue was still throwing spells towards the distracted Morgana. Suddenly Merlin stopped and swung back, throwing a blast of green magic against the strange Sídhe, forcing it back. The last Hound lunged toward Merlin’s right side. On instinct, Arto raised his hand and pictured the Hound being struck by a bolt of white magic. A shock traveled through his fingers and a small bright spark of magic escaped his fingers. The magic intercepted the Hound, knocking it away from Merlin.
“Arto!” Gwenyvar shouted behind him. “The Rider!”
Spinning, Arto brought up Cathanáil as he saw a flash of gold. His knees buckled as the Síd’s sword collided with his. His right foot moved back, giving him more leverage against the strength of the Rider. The blades hissed against each other as the metals slid against each other: enchanted iron versus Sídhe gold. He looked at the Rider, meeting it violet eyes once again. The Rider’s face looked strange in the glow of Cathanáil, every sharp angle of its otherworldly face standing out more than usual and its skin and hair shining almost translucently.
