The Iron Gate Page 3

  “Professor, I’m at Morgana’s house,” Alex explained. “She just removed my stitches.”

  “Indeed,” Merlin replied. “That’s good to hear. I hope that it doesn’t scar too badly.”

  “Uh,” Alex paused nervously. “She used healing magic to finish healing the wound. There’s no scar at all.”

  “I see,” Merlin said much more slowly, his tone irritated, but resigned. “She did not tell me she was planning to use healing magic.”

  Alex’s nervousness only grew, and she felt like a big mouth. It sounded like Morgana had broken the rules against using healing magic for her. “Well she seems very tired,” Alex informed him quickly. “I just wanted to make sure that she’ll be okay on her own or do I need to stay with her.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Merlin assured Alex. “Nicki recovered with no trouble once she had some rest. Just lock the house up, and Morgana will be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Alex asked, glancing over at the professor who was sound asleep and breathing deeply.

  “The tunnel has been severed so nothing dangerous can come through,” Merlin reminded Alex, his tone becoming more soothing. “Additionally, Morgana’s home was constructed with iron in the doorframes and window frames. She is quite safe. If it makes you feel better, I will check on her this afternoon.”

  “Are you sure?” Alex questioned. “Do you have a key?”

  Merlin chuckled and replied, “Morgana and I have known each other for nearly three thousand years. It is very safe to say that we have spare keys to each other’s homes.”

  “Okay then.” Alex nibbled at her lower lip. “I’ll leave her to rest then.”

  “Yes,” Merlin agreed, “That’s a good idea.”

  “I’ll see you next week then.”

  “Alex,” Merlin called before she could hang up. “One more thing, if Morgana said anything in her exhaustion… well, don’t bring it up. I’m sure she didn’t mean to…”

  “She hasn’t said anything,” Alex lied as she moved towards the front door. Merlin knew it was a lie but calmly accepted her statement.

  “Very well then,” Merlin answered. “I will see you in class on Monday.”

  “Of course, Professor Yates,” Alex agreed. “See you Monday.”

  The call ended, and Alex slipped her phone back into her pocket as she reached for her jacket. She glanced back into the living room one more time to make sure that Professor Cornwall was still sleeping comfortably. Alex stopped and looked at the professor for a long moment before she shook her head and opened the front door. As she pulled out her car keys, Alex made sure to lock the professor’s door behind her.

  3

  Leaving Home

  811 B.C.E. Somerset Levels

  The tension in the roundhouse felt heavy as Morgana tightened the cord of the large bag she’d just finished packing with spare clothing and supplies. She’d left many of her personal items sitting on the shelves and was already wondering if she’d ever see them again. Taking a deep breath, Morgana swung the bag over her head, positioning the strap across her body and allowing the weight to settle comfortably in the small of her back. She turned towards the door of the roundhouse and swallowed when she found Airril still watching her silently. Morgana was grateful for his silence. Her explanation had been so short before she insisted that she was leaving with Merlin and Arto.

  Morgana shifted uncertainly as Airril stepped closer her to and fought the urge to look away from his sad brown eyes. The only thing left to do was say goodbye to her husband. Calloused fingertips touched her cheek gently as Airril stepped right in front of her. She could feel his warmth and leaned into his touch, allowing herself a small sigh.

  “I’m going to miss you, Morgana.” Airril placed his other hand on her arm. Morgana could feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric of her sleeves. “I know that we were a trade alliance match,” he said. “But we’ve made a good pair.”

  Nodding, Morgana swallowed as tears pricked at her eyes. That surprised her; she hadn’t expected to feel so emotional about leaving. When Merlin had suggested she join him and Arto in their travels to fight against the Sídhe, she’d agreed that it was the rational choice. It would allow her to protect Arto and learn more about what her magic could do. She had no children and thus hadn’t hesitated to accept the invitation. Now she was starting to feel the weight of leaving behind the village and people she’d known for years.

  Throwing her arms around his neck, Morgana pulled herself tightly against Airril. Strong arms came up around her and held her close as Airril softly spoke to her, but Morgana didn’t hear the words. She focused on memorizing his smell and listening to the beat of his heart under her ear. They stood like that, Airril running a hand down her back underneath her long dark braid and kissing the top of her head softly between gentle words of comfort.

  “I’m going to miss you too,” Morgana managed to say despite the tightness in her throat.

  “I know,” Airril assured her, speaking more loudly now. “What you are doing is important. If Merlin is right and you are a mage then learning to control your abilities is important.”

  Morgana nodded against his chest, her stomach twisting at the reminder of the edited truth they’d provided her husband with. There was a temptation to tell him everything, tell him about being raised by the Sídhe and her struggle with her loyalties, but Morgana couldn’t bear the thought of how he might react. The arm around her tightened, and Airril kissed her temple before he released her. Morgana didn’t resist the soft push he gave her to make her let go of her tight grip and stepped back. She brushed the tears away from her eyes quickly and coughed to clear her throat. Airril was smiling sadly at her, one of his dimples barely showing. Morgana’s chest tightened, she was going to miss that smile.

  “It will be alright, Morgana,” Airril promised.

  Morgana barely contained a huff at the words: her husband didn’t fully understand what she would be facing. Instead, she forced a smile and nodded. “I’ll try to visit.” Morgana adjusted the bag over her shoulder. “Whenever we come back into the area. Please take care of yourself, Airril.”

  Airril nodded and stepped close her once again, catching her chin in his hand. He tipped her face up and brushed their lips together in a soft caring kiss. The flap of the animal pelt that served as the door of their roundhouse alerted Morgana to the fact they were no longer alone. Pulling away from Airril, Morgana turned to see Merlin looking a bit sheepish with his gaze on the floor.

  “Time to leave, I suppose.” Morgana raised an eyebrow at the older mage who didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Indeed,” Merlin replied. “Arto is waiting outside.”

  “I’ll be just another moment,” Morgana informed Merlin even as she stepped closer to Airril.

  Her husband chuckled and hugged her once again, kissing her forehead. His fingers brushed the cloak clasp that he’d given her and Morgana smiled, glad to have it as a memento. “Take care, Morgana,” Airril whispered into her hair before he took a step back from her.

  Morgana took a slow breath and turned towards Merlin who was waiting near the doorway. Taking a step forward, she raised her chin and did her best to rein in her emotions. Merlin finally looked up from the floor as he heard her move. Her green eyes met his brown ones, and a rush of magic surged through her. Everything faded away as her knees felt weak and her body shuddered.

  Morgana could smell a summer forest and feel the soft moisture of morning mist on her face. The wind blew through her hair, and she heard birds singing around her. She was overwhelmed by the smells, sounds, and sights, caught someplace other than where she was, but feeling peace and tranquility seeping into her bones.

  “Morgana!” Airril’s worried voice called, penetrating the fog of Morgana’s vision.

  Blinking, Morgana took in a deep breath, grateful for her husband’s stabilizing arm around her waist. In front of her, Merlin blinked and shook his head before smiling warmly at her. Merlin moved his staff in f
ront of his body and leaned forward on it, watching Morgana with a gentle expression.

  “No need to fear, Airril,” Merlin assured her husband. “It will pass in a moment.”

  Feeling more stable, Morgana gentle pulled away from Airril’s grasp and gave him a shaky smile before carefully looking back at Merlin. She braced herself, but the vision did not reoccur.

  “Calm yourself, Morgana,” Merlin told her cheerfully. Then he turned his attention on Airril who was struggling to stay still. “Morgana and I experienced a Connection,” he explained calmly. “It occurs when two mages with similar magic look into each other’s eyes. It only happens the first time, thankfully.” He looked back to Morgana. “The power of the Iron Realm flows in you freely now with no conflicts,” he added in a gentle voice.

  Swallowing, Morgana nodded her understanding and tried not to smile. She took another step forward. When Airril set a hand on her shoulder, she dared not turn to look at him, but raised her hand and placed it over his for a moment.

  “Morgana!” Arto’s voice called from outside the roundhouse impatiently.

  Shaking his head, Merlin gave Morgana an apologetic look. She nodded in understanding and squeezed Airril’s hand before walking forward. His hand fell away, and she heard him make a small sound behind her. Against her better judgment, she paused at the doorway and looked back. Morgana forced a smile which he barely returned before she stepped out of the roundhouse.

  Arto jumped to his feet with wide, excited brown eyes. His brown hair was a mess with twigs and grass in it from leaning against the roundhouse. Grinning at Morgana, he stepped towards her, and their eyes met. Morgana gasped softly and felt Merlin grip her arm as another vision rushed through her.

  A strange dark metal orb gleamed in hot flames before her before its surface cracked. Molten orange spilled forth onto a smooth stone. She recognized it as similar to Arto’s sword creation as she smelled the fire and charcoal before three heavy metallic clangs rang out.

  Arto swayed on his feet in front of Morgana as she came back to herself. Her brother shook his head and then laughed with a wide smile. To her surprise, he didn’t mention the strange vision, and Morgana distracted herself with turning her eyes towards the sword that strapped across his chest. Morgana’s eyes were drawn to the golden hilt which gleamed in the sunlight and her breath caught in her throat as she felt magic radiating from the blade. Arto grinned at her and reached back towards the blade.

  “No Arto,” Merlin told him firmly, stepping up next to Morgana. “Do not draw that sword lightly.”

  Morgana expected a protest from the young man, but instead, her brother nodded his understanding and glanced around at the villagers. Many were watching with interest, and Morgana swallowed thickly, suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Come.” Merlin's hand grasped Morgana’s arm and giving it a light, comforting squeeze. “We need to be going.”

  “Where are we headed?” Morgana asked, her voice thinner and weaker than she liked.

  “News came from the White Cliffs of Sídhe tunnels in the area,” Arto told Morgana as they began walking towards the gates of the village.

  “The White Cliffs,” Morgana murmured. “That’s on the other side of the isle.”

  “Indeed,” Merlin agreed as he moved ahead of Morgana to lead the way. “But Arto and I are used to the travel: you will be soon. We’re going south. From there we’ll use a boat to travel around the shores.”

  “I’ve never traveled so far,” Morgana admitted with a look at her brother who did not seem at all concerned about the distance.

  “Oh, Morgana, I’d say that you have traveled further than most have,” Merlin remarked with a chuckle. “And there is more ahead for you.”

  They passed through the gates, and Morgana’s eyes swept the sturdy wooden walls, hoping that they would continue to protect her village. Looking over her shoulder, Morgana spotted Airril standing on the hill in front of their roundhouse watching her leave, and a long bronze sword grasped in one hand. She swallowed and turned her gaze forward again, ignoring the voices behind her growing stronger as the villagers spoke. Gradually the voices and sounds of the village faded as they moved further and further away. Ahead of them was the tor, rising out of the flat moors and Morgana shivered at the memory of the blood spell.

  “The village will be safe,” Merlin promised in front of Morgana, his eyes also on the tor. “Arto’s spell will protect this area for many years.”

  “Really?” Arto asked, turning to look at Merlin and nearly tripping on a tuft of grass.

  Smiling, Merlin nodded. “I cannot say for certain how long of course, but even now I can feel the magic here. The power of the Iron Realm is strong here, anchored by your power.”

  “So the Sídhe won’t come here anymore?” Arto asked. Morgana looked hopefully at Merlin.

  “My mother used the same spell as you and the Sídhe avoid my home village to this day.” Merlin tilted his head and hummed softly. “That was twenty-three years ago,” Merlin added before shaking his head. “I’m getting old.”

  “You don’t look old,” Arto informed his teacher.

  Merlin laughed, patting the teenager on the shoulder. “Well, I’m not done with life just yet my boy, too much to do.” He looked over his shoulder at Morgana. “But you needn’t worry about the village. The power of the tor will guard them against the Sídhe.”

  Morgana nodded and looked up at the tor as they began to ascend the hill. Stopping, Morgana turned and looked back at the moor. The long flooded valley stretched out before her, causeways linking small islands and the scent of the distant ocean on the breeze. Her eyes found her village on one of the small rolling hills near the water’s edge.

  “I’m going to miss this place.” Morgana breathed in the scent of the air.

  “That is to be expected,” Merlin told her, joining Morgana in looking over the valley. “This was your home.”

  “I missed my mother when I came here, but not the village,” Morgana whispered. “I’ve never missed that place.”

  “All the memories made here were yours.” Merlin placed a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing here was shared with the Changeling; no one here knew the Changeling that you once were. It is natural that it is harder to leave than your childhood home.”

  “Enough, Merlin.” Morgana refused to look at him as she turned and began to walk, spotting Arto a ways ahead of them. Merlin said nothing and fell into step next to her. “I am fond of Airril,” she told him a moment later. “And I will miss him.”

  “Ah love.” Merlin grinned with another look towards Morgana.

  She said nothing, tilting her head up to enjoy the warmth of the sunshine. Next to her, she heard Merlin chuckled again before he called to Arto to slow down and wait for them. The young man obeyed, coming to a stop and grinning at them as they walked towards him. Once they were all together, Arto slowed down to keep pace with Merlin and Morgana.

  “Let’s see,” Merlin murmured. “I suppose I should tell you a bit more about magic. I don’t imagine that the Queen shared many details of how the magic of the Iron Realm worked did she.”

  “No,” Morgana agreed with a nod. “She did not.”

  “Well then, the magic of the Iron Realm is largely tied to the power of the world itself although according to Cyrridven, it is possible to gain magical power in a few other ways, but we won’t concern ourselves with that right now.”

  Morgana was tempted to hit the older man as he became to ramble about mages being born with the ability to connect with and control the powers of the Iron Realm. Sighing, Morgana rolled her shoulder and glanced towards Arto. The young man winked at her and nodded towards Merlin with a grin. Seeing that she wasn’t alone in her boredom with the lecture, Morgana smiled in return. The siblings shared another look before turning their attention back to minding their footing as they became to climb up a hillside and listening to Merlin’s words.

  Truth and Myth

  The university’s library was
quiet with only a few students present, mostly graduate students judging from their ages and use of the rental storage desks. There were a couple of students shelving books that looked up as Alex passed them while she glanced into the different study rooms. She finally located the others in one of the small study rooms at the back of the third floor right beside the “B’s” which housed the religion and mythology books.

  The door was closed, but the large window allowed Alex to see the others hunched over several books and Nicki typing things into a propped up tablet. Aiden and Nicki were on the side furthest from the door with Bran alone on the other side of the table, his cane propped up against him and the chair positioned to give his legs plenty of room allowing Alex to see his leg brace. She could just hear Nicki’s voice as she read the book entry in front of her and allowed herself to focus on that for a moment while she gathered her courage.