32. Iron and Stone #2
The first contact was slight, a brush of shoulders. Then came a low laugh, almost under the breath, followed by another drink passed too forcefully across the table. One of the players muttered something, just loud enough to be heard, and the group shifted, chairs scraping across the floor.
Another round passed. Another win for Maelan. Then a hand slammed down, and Maelan stood.
The table shook as ale sloshed over the rim of a nearby mug. Niall stepped back, his posture loose but fists curled. The tavern stilled around them, the noise softening into a watchful hush.
Without a word, Niall finished his drink and reached for the hammer behind him. He spun it once, the weight humming through the air. The crowd broke away, giving them space; no one dared to step in.
Kyron rose halfway from his seat, eyes narrowed. “What the hell have you gotten us into?” he hissed.
Maelan didn’t answer right away. He was already moving, eyes bright. “A little fun,” he said.
The hammer came down, splintering the edge of the table where Maelan had been standing a moment before.
Niall stumbled as the momentum carried him forward, but his movements were practiced, too fluid to be clumsy.
Kyron stepped in and drove a hard punch into his ribs, forcing the breath from Niall’s lungs.
The hammer hit the floor as Niall twisted, bringing a fist across Kyron’s side.
Kyron reeled from the hit, gasping, as Maelan circled back and landed a clean kick under Niall’s chin.
Niall staggered but caught Maelan by the ankle and, with a grunt, lifted him clean off the ground and flung him across the room. Maelan landed hard, groaning as he slid into a row of overturned chairs.
A flicker of lightning moved beneath Niall’s skin, silver like moonlight, rippled over him. It shimmered for only a moment before it disappeared, but not before Kyron saw it.
Niall saw the look of surprise that flickered across Kyron’s face. He reached over the table, scooping up the gold coins and walked out of the tavern. Maelan stood groaning, his eyes shooting to Kyron who looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“What’s wrong?” Maelan asked, one hand on his shoulder as he rolled it.
Sorcha returned the tavern a few moments later, to find Maelan and Kyron picking up chairs and cups.
“Did I miss anything?” Sorcha asked eyeing the scene suspiciously.
“I think there’s a Demi-God in this town.” Kyron replied without hesitation.
Sorcha’s face was a mix of confusion and bewilderment. “How do you know that?”
“I saw the marking under the skin like yours, but it was lightening.” Kyron said slowly as if still thinking about it.
“Where did they go?” she asked.
Maelan, no longer picking up, chimed in, “He just walked out.”
The barkeep was listening to them intently. “His name’s Niall.” The barkeeper answered as he wiped down the counter. “He works in the mines; I’d bet my inn he’s on his way there now.”
“Thank you” Sorcha replied over her shoulder as she raced out the doors.
Maelan and Kyron rushed behind her.
“Why are we running?” Maelan huffed out beside Sorcha.
“Because we can’t lose him.” She replied, picking up her pace.
As they approached the mines, there was more commotion.
Lightning shot out of the mouth of the cave as an overgrown bat-like creature was launched, smashing into the mountainside.
Circle members all stood outside, murmurs filling the air as Niall appeared at the entrance in a show of smoke, his hammer hanging across his shoulder.
“Niall!” Sorcha called, and he turned, following her voice.
“Who the hell are you?” He blurted out, confusion on his face.
Sorcha met his eyes. “Someone who’s been looking for you.”
Niall didn’t answer right away. He stared at her as if she’d grown another head.
Sorcha looked at Kyron and Maelan, “I’m going for a walk,” she announced.
She walked up Niall and placed a hand on his arm, “Join me.”
Niall watched her small frame turn and walk into the distance, Kyron and Maelan standing awkwardly off to the side of him.
“You two are from the tavern,” He pointed and before he could say anything further to two of them disappeared into the crowd of workers.
Niall could just barely see Sorcha’s hair in the distance like embers burning into the afternoon haze.
Curiously nagged at him, “Fuck it.” He thought as he chased after her.
The afternoon sun was setting in, heat gathering on their skin.
“I know who your father is,” she said without looking at him.
That earned a short laugh. “Do you?”
She nodded. “The Dagda told me.”
He stopped walking. “The Dagda?”
“Yes.” She replied bluntly.
He barked out a louder laugh, rubbing his jaw where Maelan had caught him. “Right…”
Niall turned to walk away; over his shoulder he yelled. “No offense lady, but you sound crazy. I’ve got work to get to.”
“We only just got back, and this is important. I’m not crazy.”
“Oh,” he said, walking again. “So the gods just pointed their shiny fingers and dropped you here? For..?”
“To find their children, here in Eadartha,” she muttered.
Niall scoffed. “Have a great life.” He called out while still walking away.
Suddenly, a murder of crows appeared in the sky above circling overhead, One dove at Niall, stopping short of his face and just watched him.
Niall stumbled back as the crow returned overhead, the birds staying low.
Sorcha didn’t respond right away. Her gaze drifted to the trees, where mist curled along the ground.
“There’s a blight spreading,” she said. “The Veil is unraveling. The fomorians are returning with a dark druid leading them.“ She motioned toward him, “Our power, it’s the only thing that can stop it.
He tilted his head, giving her a long look. “You don’t sound very sure.”
“I’m not,” she said honestly. “But I know enough to know I can’t do it alone.”
Niall scratched his head, considering. The fight had taken most of the anger out of him.
“I don’t believe in fate or that the gods give a shit,” he said.
Lightning struck a tree next to him, although the skies were clear. And then again, the same tree. Niall was now standing very close to Sorcha.
“I don’t either, but I think we can shape our fate,” she replied.
That made him smile. He looked toward the hills, the road winding beyond the village, and let out a breath.
“So what happens now?” As he placed his hand on the back of his neck.
“We try to find the others,” she said. “Whoever’s left.”
He nodded once, his hands falling to his sides.
“It seems the gods are trying to tell me I haven’t got a choice…” he said. “I’ll meet you back at the inn.”