Chương 100: Burrow

Róise couldn't help but marvel at Onóra. Three Fourths and one Fifth were throwing everything they had at her and she was still holding her own. It was true that they were all exhausted and short on fórsa, but that was still an incredible feat. Onóra used the same sort of Mist Needles that Eoin liked so much, but she also produced a pair of short water blades, just a little longer than Róise's own fórsa knives.

She whirled between clashing blades with Róise, to fending off steel chain links from Ferris, to pushing Eoin back with unbelievable efficiency.

"Step back!" Eoin shouted. Róise didn't think twice, but flipped backwards as Eoin rushed in to take her place in melee range. In his hand he seemed like he was holding a stick that Miriam must have made - it looked woven of vines, but was sheathed in a shell of water. He thrust the makeshift sword like a rapier, then danced around her blades in a pattern more fluid than the water he'd wrapped it in and swung it like a saber.

It was clear that Eoin was more deserving of her attention that Róise had been, and her needles began to lose ground to Ferris's steel. Frustrated at her inability to join the battle directly without getting in Eoin or Ferris's way, Róise searched for some other way to help and instantly found one. She could use this opportunity to just wrench the Heart of Iron away from Onóra directly. That would free up Miriam and the Crockern to join the fray against the Banshee.

Onóra was keeping close to the Heart, but she couldn't hover over it and maintain the fight with Eoin on equal terms. There were plenty of moments where Róise could see a way in. Firing up Banks of Red Roses again, she darted in, throwing herself forward in just such a position as to miss Onóra's swords by inches, landing in a roll next to the Heart. Triumphant, she wrapped her hand around the stone. She felt nothing. The way Ferris described it, she ought to feel some sort of connection.

Timidly she fed some fórsa into it. A dozen water needles thrust out from the gem, piercing her hand. Róise screamed, falling down beside the altar as blood poured from her palm. What the hell was that? Glaring at the offending gem, she suddenly realized its appearance was different than it had been when they'd entered the grotto. It was bulkier, its facets rougher and larger. The gentle glow that had emanated from it was all but gone.

"She built a shell around it," Róise realized. She growled, activating Róisín Dubh to heal her wounded hand. It didn't take long - she was a Fourth now after all. Her natural healing was already crazy good. Meanwhile she scrambled to stay within range of the gem, but out of range of Onóra's blades. So far she hadn't deigned to send more needles after her, but that could quickly change. Her palm as good as new, she spun up Banks of Red Roses again, summoning her blades.

This was a technique made to break things, after all. She slashed hard at the gem shell and chips went flying.

"Sure you want to do that, little pixie?" Onóra's face was suddenly inches away from hers.

"Or haven't you heard what happened the last time someone cracked the Heart of Iron?" Róise growled and stabbed at her, but the Banshee was too quick, her blades neatly sweeping Róise's aside and moving into position to block a thrust by Eoin in one smooth movement. Róise disengaged, sliding away from the altar altogether. What could she do? Onóra was right - she couldn't risk damaging the Heart again. Onóra had planned everything to perfection. There was nothing she could do.

Then she saw her answer, inexplicably cowering by Miriam at the end of the tunnel. Róise dashed over to Sol, grabbing him by the arm.

"Sol. I need you." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

"You do?" Sol said, his face panic-stricken.

"How?"

"The Banshee put some kind of fórsa gem shell around the Heart of Iron. I can't break it, or I might break the Heart. But you can!"

"I can?"

"You did it with Solas's gem when you were the Líadan, right? You can absorb fórsa, even when it's gem-stuff." Róise pulled on him to come with her.

"No!" Sol snatched his arm back.

"I can't get near the Heart! Solas will do something to it."

"Solas?" Róise was getting worried. Sol was speaking nonsense.

"We don't have time! The Iron Dead aren't going to stop. Eoin and Ferris are too tapped out to handle her. She can stall us until Miriam's defenses break down, or my brother finds us. Trust me. Whatever you're worried about won't matter if we're all already dead." Sol gave her a pained look, but nodded.

"Ok. You're right. I'll try to remove the shell without touching the Heart. Can you get me in there?" Róise grinned.

"I think I have a good shot." She turned to lock her eyes on Onóra and started the room swaying with Seven Drunken Nights.

"It's going to take all seven nights at least to have any effect whatsoever on her," Róise said.

"If she's as clever as she seems I'm willing to bet she had a way to neutralize mental effects too. But she will be distracted for a bit while it happens. That's your shot." Sol shook his arms out, as if they'd been sleeping, and flexed his fingers.

"Ok. I'll follow your lead." Róise walked slowly back towards Onóra, each night of the folksong building. Four nights in and Onóra seemed as clear eyed as ever. Five nights. Six.

"Get ready," she said to Sol. The Seventh Night hit and Róise launched herself towards Onóra. She didn't have the fórsa left to run Banks of Red Roses as a Medley, so she just attacked under her unmodified power - just as Onóra made an uncharacteristic stumble. Róise flipped high in the air, her fórsa blades descending.

"That won't work!" Eoin cried out, even as he used her slip to score a light cut into Onóra's shoulder which seemed to spray way more blood than it should have - perhaps the result of the water technique he surrounded his vine sword with. Sol dashed in through the opening Róise and Eoin created, wrapping his left hand - very carefully, only his left - around the gem shell. Even as Róise descended, her blades sharpening even as she fell, Onóra's eyes shot directly at her. How? Róise thought.

She shouldn't be able to see me! Even if she was only a little affected by the technique the user camouflage had always worked, as long as Róise was out of her sight when she activated it. Onóra had not been looking at her. Then Róise realized that her cheek was slightly damp - like walking through a light fog. There were Mist droplets in the air all around her. Onóra could feel her approaching. She didn't need to see anything. But all that water in the air meant…

In that split second she killed Seven Drunken Nights and activated Róisín Dubh. A hundred water needles impaled her from every angle. ✧✧✧ Sol wrapped his hand around the gem shell. He could see Róise flying through the air towards Onóra. He heard Eoin's warning. But he couldn't pay any attention to that. He had to focus on his goal. A very thin needle of his own to thread. Absorb the shell. Don't allow himself to touch the Heart.

As he wrapped his hand around the gem shell he could feel the water needle trap that had stung Róise so badly activate, but he just absorbed them before they could fully form. He absently made material techniques with his other hand and tucked them into his pocket. He began to work on the gem shell itself. It was made entirely of Water fórsa, which was no surprise. Absorbing it felt no more difficult than breathing.

There were other traps, including a thick ice spear, and one that was supposed to trap him in a ring of rapidly moving water - he was very interested to keep that one - but his ability to simply absorb it all cut through it like it was butter. Finally, he had deconstructed it down to nothing but a brittle latticework of unstable fórsa and he carefully crushed it, pulling it away gently.

"I did it!" He called.

"Róise, I…" He watched as she crashed to the ground, hundreds of bloody holes dotting every inch of her body.

"No!" He called, fumbling in his pockets. Surely he had a Róisín Dubh in there!

"Well, you're a fascinating one," Onóra purred. She was right next to him, leaving Eoin behind and off-balance as he struggled to summon enough fórsa to fight on her level.

"I've never seen anyone do something like that! Perhaps when everyone else is dead you can show me-" Sol crushed a technique material against her chest and a huge spike of ice impaled her. He released a ragged breath as she fell, turning to see if Róise was moving. Wait, Eoin was shouting something. No, that wasn't Eoin, that was Sol! Sol was saying something? What?

"Burrow," Sol said. In horror, he looked down, where his right hand was wrapped firmly around the Heart of Iron. From the tunnel wall came the shrill shrieking of nails against stone, the pounding of fists pummeling crumbling rock. And from the inside, the hourglass sound of sand dislodging from the wall separating the tunnel from the Grotto.