Iron forge crossroads, p.23
Iron-Forge Crossroads, page 23
Charon.
Sneak Peak
Now enjoy the first chapter of Iron-Forge Crossroads: Remeant, coming May 21st, 2024!
The journey continues as Evyn and crew race against the clock to stop Griselda from releasing the Ancients and exacting her vengeance on an unsuspecting human world. Meanwhile, things in Evyn's personal life get a lot more heated…
Iron-Forge Crossroads
Remeant - Coming May 21st, 2024
Remeant (adjective): coming back, returning
When the whistling sounded like it was just a few feet away the gray dissipated suddenly, and I gasped when I found myself face to face with the ferryman himself.
“I thought you’d be back much sooner,” said Charon in his monotone voice.
I frowned, still hanging in the air. “Do you mind?”
A smile spread across his lipless mouth, his ashen gray face cracking and flaking off in places. One of his eyes twitched and I fell with a thump into the bow of the boat.
I settled in, making myself as comfortable as possible among the bare wood skeleton of the ferry and watched as Charon dipped the oars soundlessly into the water. “So what have you been up to since last time we met?”
No reply. I watched the shores of Styx slip by as we moved deeper into the Dark. This place was another “layer” of the Strangefells, a version of the underworld like you may have heard in myths and legends.
It’s where the dead reside, where the chthonic Ætherim and those entities strongly tied to the earth called home. Most Strangers that found themselves here were in a holding pattern. They rested, recuperated, prepared for another turn at life.
It was possible for the living to visit and leave again but the pull of this place, the magick of the shadows and the in-between, tended to sink all the way down to the bone. It kept calling, even after you left. Even now, some part of me was grateful to be home.
If you didn’t find something to anchor you to the world of the living, chances were good you’d wind up back here one way or another.
The bare flat plains gave way to tall grasses and the occasional rise of a sand dune and eventually into fields of golden wheat and then vast green swaths of lush grass.
I watched the mountain range in the background, gleaming in the cold gray light and pointed. “Are those new?”
Charon’s eyes slid to me with heavy disdain and away again.
“I’m just gonna keep talking. I can make up your side of the conversation if you’d like.”
“Whatever stories you can come up with will be greatly entertaining, I’m sure, and you’ll have plenty of time to share them with people who might care. Which isn’t me.”
“Come on. What else do you have for entertainment besides mindless small talk or attempted bribes to turn the boat around?”
“I count the blissful hours of silence between these insipid interactions.”
I sat with that for a minute. “You must be really fun at parties.”
Charon offered me nothing, just kept rowing and stared ahead like I wasn’t even there. “So do you know anything about the kind of magick that brought me here?”
Nothing.
“Somehow somebody figured out how to bring Styx into the mortal realm.”
That got his attention. It was just a tiny flicker of his eyes in my direction, but I knew he was listening.
“Yeah, I thought that was interesting.” He frowned at the knowing smirk in my voice. “It felt ancient, that kind of magick. Not a whole lot of people have that kind of knowledge anymore. It was quite beautiful to witness, even if it sent me here.”
Charon was silent for a time, but I could see his wheels turning. Finally, he spoke. “Sorcery.”
I shifted my weight and tried to get the pins and needles out of my legs and feet and ended up sitting like a child during story time. I even propped my face in my hands and leaned forward.
“I’d say you fell prey to a trap laid by a Mesopotamian sorcerer. Always an unpredictable bunch, more mercenary than magician.”
“No offense taken, don’t worry about it.” I plastered a wide smile on my face.
“What were you doing to fall into this trap, I wonder? Robbing tombs? Drawing a mustache on some poor soul’s statue? Pissing on graves of the dearly departed?”
I scowled. “As fun as those things sound.” I tried to rein in my impulse to strangle him. “I was attempting to steal an artifact from a sociopath that’s intent on releasing the Ancients. Not a huge deal, but it’d be nice to have.”
Charon stopped rowing and froze, the boat continuing to move forward despite the placidness of the waters. His Adam’s apple bobbed a couple times before he said, “Don’t be absurd. Are you honestly suggesting—”
“I wish I wasn’t, but that’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Griselda Moreno found a whole cache of artifacts underneath Göbekli Tepe. And there have been plenty of informants helping us piece together this puzzle. Solomon’s name has come up more than once and I’m not entirely sure I haven’t met the guy already.” The cloaked figure that advised on the unorthodox blood transfusion came to mind.
“It all adds up to a giant shit sandwich with the Strangefells and the mundane caught between a genocidal maniac and eldritch horrors.”
Charon shook his head, still refusing to believe it was possible. “For anyone to release them would be suicide. No one can control them. They’d unmake the world and all of us with it.” The first notes of panic started to appear in his voice, and he spat into the Styx to avert the evil of his words.
“If it makes you feel better Griselda is mostly intent on wiping out humans.” Yes, I was being sarcastic. “She seems to have a plan for controlling them and there are clearly very capable sorcerers involved, even if they’re less than scrupulous.”
“So they’d only allow Them to destroy three-quarters of the world then?” he asked bitterly. Then his gaze shifted, and Charon’s mind went somewhere else, finding some buried memory.
He refocused on me with growing fear. “We no longer have the kind of power it took to lock them away, even together. We were almost destroyed in that war, at the height of our strength, with Stranger and human fighting side by side. If someone set loose the Ancients now, we’d have no hope. None. And all for a foolish power grab.”
“So let me go. Let me secure that artifact. That will strike a huge blow to their plan.”
Charon shook his head. “I can’t do that. Someone else will have to finish the job. You’re not the only mercenary in the Council’s employ.”
“In the time it takes to get somebody else caught up on the situation with everything that I know so far Moreno could have moved the artifact and we’ll never have another chance to find it before she uses it.”
He had gone back to ignoring me again, paddling silently along.
“Or would you rather take your chances that you’ll be saying hello to the eldritch horrors before the year is out? Would you like to explain that to Hades right before we’re all wiped out of existence?” I looked around. “Real estate is going to be at a premium around here.”
That got his attention.
I leaned in. “If he knows what’s happening and what’s at stake, I think he’ll be okay with delaying our meeting for a little longer.”
“You are very confident, aren’t you?” asked Charon.
I sat back, the hard lip of the boat digging into my back, but I refused to readjust. “That’s why I’m so good at my job. And we’re all going to need plenty of confidence for what’s to come.”
Charon stared at me for a long moment, having a long debate with himself. Then his eye twitched.
And I found myself back at Moreno’s safe house.
“Evyn!” shouted Adrian, running and sliding toward me like he was stealing second base.
I was still trying to get my bearings, but I smiled up at him from my landing place on the floor. “I made it.”
“Are you okay?”
I suddenly felt like I was moving through sludge. I turned my head slowly, feeling myself being as creepy as it must have been to him. I vaguely registered the look on his face, a mixture of worry and fear.
“You’re not alright. What happened? Where did you go?”
I was going to answer but his gasp made me go quiet.
“Your eyes… they just turned black. Completely black.”
I sensed myself reach up to my face but I couldn’t feel my fingers near my eyes where I knew they should have been. Suddenly it felt like a vacuum had closed around us.
“What’s happening now?” He got to his feet and hauled me after him, palming my face roughly and staring into my eyes like they held the answers.
My gut twisted as everything in me told me to get the fuck out of there. The sluggishness released me at the same time the vacuum dissipated.
“Fuck.” I hissed, pelting toward the statue and grabbing it while simultaneously shouting “Run!”
We both sprinted toward the nearest window, Adrian on my heels. I threw my hand forward and blew out the window with a directed blast of air, allowing the added force to carry us both faster and fling us out the window as far away from the house as possible.
We hit the ground outside just as the air ignited and the house was engulfed in flames, every window shattering outward and shaking what must have been the entire block.
Adrian used his own brand of magick—sad and chaotic—to put a shield up around us and protect us from the debris just as a splintered piece of the house shattered against it like a spear. That would have hurt.
Adrian helped me sit up and gave me a moment to catch my breath, the two of us preparing to run before the authorities showed up. The house was just a fireball on top of a shattered foundation.
But no lights went on. Nobody screamed. There were no sirens in the distance as we watched the house burn. And then the flames reversed back into themselves with a rushing noise, the house pieced itself back together and it was like nothing had ever happened.
Adrian and I looked at each other and he sniffed. “That’s new.”
What else can you say?
I started, remembering that I’d grabbed the artifact on the way out and opened my hand. There it was. A small artifact, shaped like a scorpion with a skull on its back, its tail piercing that skull. A tiny stone carving that could end the world. I wish that was just me being hyperbolic.
“What if we just destroyed it? Smashed it on the ground right now? I can make a power sink with my knife, we put up a barrier to keep any magick from leaking out, shatter the thing and let all that old, crusty magick get sucked back into the earth where it belongs.” Adrian laid out a surprisingly effective plan and I considered it.
The world would certainly be safer without this thing in it. But anything containing magick this old that’s been dormant for so long is like a pressure cooker that’s been building up steam for thousands of years.
Popping the cork could result in a catastrophic blast of energy that would not only kill the two of us, but possibly flatten the entire city. Or, it could just sink into the ground like Adrian hoped. Given the odds were pretty fair in favor of either of those things being the result, I wasn’t willing to take that chance.
“Better to let the Council take possession of it. Even if they don’t destroy it, it’ll just end up in a private collection and nobody but us and a few people outside of Moreno’s team will ever remember it existed.” I paused. “And Moreno isn’t going to be alive much longer anyway.”
“What, my method isn’t good enough for you?”
I stood, brushing myself off best I could given I was covered with ash and my clothes were singed. “Actually I thought it was a rather good idea.”
Adrian was ready with a retort but then he realized what I said and snapped his mouth shut.
“I just don’t want to risk leveling the neighborhood. Do you?”
He grumbled. “That’s fair.” He appraised the tiny statue. “So what now?”
“I’ll keep it with me until I can get it to the Council. I haven’t spoken to the Matron since I disappeared myself. Not sure how that’s going to go down.”
Adrian grimaced. “You have fun. Let me know if you need help again.” That smoldering smile. “Or just hit me up when you’re ready to finish what we started earlier.”
I pushed past the little thrill that went through me and proceeded to ignore him altogether. He chuckled knowingly as I headed back to the car.
Once we were back on the road Adrian asked, “So what happened after you got swallowed by the ghost wave?”
“A short trip to the Dark and the longest conversation I hope to ever have with Charon.” I fell silent and could feel his eyes boring into the side of my head. I turned to look at him with a shocked smile. “Oh, did you want to hear more?”
Acknowledgements
I don't think I would've had the guts to forge ahead with this project had it not been for a couple of people.
Ma, you were a cheerleader and a voice of reason when I started to feel the pressure of the overwhelming task of bringing this book to fruition. Love you lots.
Samantha H., my intrepid friend. Instead of insisting I was crazy when I revealed my thoughts about starting over with a new career, you went full-tilt with that ride-or-die support. Thank you, Samantha the Brave.
And a special thanks to my editor, Kat Betts, who dealt with my new-author jitters in stride and helped get this project on its feet.
About the Author
Gwydion spends most of her time in the Strangefells bringing you first hand encounters of adventure, intrigue, action and mystery. When she’s not writing, she’s spending time hiking or trying to get her very stubborn Bernese Mountain Dog to accompany her on a walk. That or avoiding the tornado of trouble her three cats get into around the house. You can find out more about Gwydion and what's she currently working on at gwydionroyce.com. You can also sign up there for the newsletter to receive updates, new release information, fun freebies and short stories.
Coming Soon
May 21st, 2024
Iron-Forge Crossroads: Remeant
Death's Left Hand Book 2
And MORE coming soon in the Death's Left-Hand Series!
Book 3 – October 8th, 2024
Book 4 – November 12th, 2024
And Coming in June 2024
An exciting new Romantasy novella series from Gwydion Royce!
Visit gwydionroyce.com for the latest information!
Gwydion Royce, Iron-Forge Crossroads
