Chương 32: Drop of Intent

"I ain't going on the Walk," Maitiú said, his voice shaking.

"It ain't fair. I didn't get a chance to leave like everyone else."

"Don't worry!" Cormac held up his hands.

"I wouldn't have started out on this quest if I didn't have an unfair advantage!"

"You lied to us!" Maitiú climbed to his feet shakily and stabbed his forefinger into Cormac's chest."You said you were a treasure hunter! You said we were going to be rich!" Cormac opened his mouth to speak, reconsidered, then revised.

"Rich in fórsa is still rich, Maitiú."

"Let me off this tub," Maitiú said.

"I'm done with all of you. Put me in a longboat and I'll take my chances with the sea." Miriam looked out at the roiling waves and the flashes of lightning so constant that they were providing illumination for their conversation.

"Maitiú, that's suicide in this weather. Not to mention that Ultán isn't likely to just let you go." He shook his head.

"Miriam, you're a strange one, but you're too young to die. This… this is dangerous. Going on the Walk is suicide. The bounty hunter ain't looking for either of us. I'm Water Nature - I can get us both safely to shore, I know it." Miriam looked at her friends. Cormac, buzzing with excitement that they were nearing Cianán's Walk. Róise, having pinned the sails in place to finally come back and see what was happening, looking tired but resolute.

Then Eoin, ragged as something a cat threw up, looking at her with nothing but admiration in his eyes.

"Sorry, Maitiú," she said.

"I'm staying." Maitiú stared at her, perhaps looking for any sort of reason he could impart to her, before shaking his head and storming off.

"Blast the lot of you then. I never trusted you lot, and I should have joined Aodh and the others in taking you down. Damn you all to hell." He left to ready one of the dinghies for his exit.

"Shame," Cormac said.

"I liked Maitiú." Róise eyed the sails warily.

"I'm going to need to get back on the rigging in a minute if we want to stay on course. You, Selkie?" Eoin started, as if he hadn't really been paying attention.

"Oh, yes? Sorry, I'm finding keeping up the fórsa manifestation more draining than I thought."

"I'm sorry we didn't free you earlier," Róise said solemnly.

"We should have tried. We wanted to use you and for six months, we did. That was… pretty messed up, now that I think about it. We could have gotten a different ship - one that didn't rely on keeping someone captive." Eoin seemed taken aback by the apology.

"Oh. It's… it's ok. Look, I hated being in that cage. You have no idea how much. But… I did what I was put in the cage for. I deserved it. Even more fitting, since I'm the one who built the jail. Also… I'm the one who dragged you off course for three months. So… sorry about that too?"

"I knew I couldn't have been that bad a captain!" Cormac crowed.

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better!"

"Well, at first I was just doing it to be petty, but when I got in contact with Miriam, it represented an amazing opportunity." Eoin grinned.

"I hope in the end it worked out well for all of us."

"It has," Róise said, moving back towards the mainmast.

"Honestly, if you hadn't freed Miriam, Ultán would have killed us at Arbrey. If Miriam hadn't freed you, Ultán would have caught up to us by now. If you hadn't set us off course that long, Ultán would have gotten us three months sooner. So… thanks again." Róise walked away, shaking her arms out in preparation to cast out new ropes to the rigging.

"What a thoughtful girl!" Eoin said, grinning.

"Ehh, this is a rarity," Cormac said.

"Honestly she's mostly a tiny bundle of mean."

"So," Eoin said.

"What is the secret you've found that will ensure your survival in Cianán's Walk?" Cormac bit his lip. Miriam could tell he was hesitant to share, just out of habit, but he finally nodded and descended down to his cabin and asked the others to follow him down out of the rain. Eoin grimaced but followed, the lines of his fórsa lengthening as he walked. From a safe hidden behind a secret panel in the captain's cabin, Cormac produced a box. It was mahogany - or whatever the Tír equivalent might be.

Inside the box was a velvet bag which Cormac removed lovingly. Finally he poured the contents of the bag into one hand. Sitting there heavy in his palm was what looked to Miriam like a teardrop-shaped pearl. Utterly featureless but impossibly smooth. Setting eyes on it Miriam was struck by the same feeling of weight she experienced when regarding Ultán or Eoin - whatever this was it was dense with fórsa. Eoin took an awed step forward.

"My gods," he whispered.

"I've never seen one in person before."

"What is it?" Miriam asked, fighting an urge to reach out and touch it.

"It's a Drop of Intent," Cormac said reverently.

"The man who owned it previously called it the 'Architect's Compass'."

"You really are an idiot," Eoin said, amazed.

"You get your hands on a Drop of Intent and your big plan is to use it to get through Cianán's Walk?"

"What is a Drop of Intent?" Miriam asked. She could not keep her eyes off of it.

"When Cianán began shedding his power, it didn't slough off in some formless wash of invisible energy. Remember, fórsa is substance, and the fórsa of the most powerful man to ever live in the Tír would be incredibly substantive. Artifacts like this were found all along the path leading up to the Walk - solid, unrefined fórsa, imbued with a certain quality the King's mind set upon it," Eoin's light lenses manifested and he peered at it, fascinated.

"These drops of fórsa contained his Anger, his Triumph, his Mischief - all the patterns his Mind set upon the fórsa of his body. This is a Drop of Cianán's Intent." This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"His intent to do what?" Miriam breathed. Cormac held the Drop up in his palm flat, allowing the rounded base to spin. It wobbled for a moment, then abruptly locked in, the thin point rock-steady aiming in one direction.

"This was a Drop of his intent to make it back to the center of the Tír."

"So your idea is to get inside Cianán's Walk and use this to follow his path precisely," Eoin said. He shook his head.

"It still makes no sense to me. It might work, but it's such the harder way to get what I think you're after."

"What do you mean?" Miriam asked.

"A Drop is Material Fórsa. You can find it out in the world some times - it's heavily coveted and extremely valuable. It has no actual form. It's fórsa that has been refined by something, but not shaped. What that means is it can be absorbed by anyone, with any Nature… pretty much instantly." Eoin shook his head.

"If Solas had gotten his hands on this he wouldn't have needed to bother with the Reels. So that leads me back to my question - why have you or your friend Róise not just absorbed this?" Cormac sighed.

"Two reasons. First, when I started to try to do just that, I saw a mountain of black threads pop up. Probably more than when I saw Ultán. Something bad would have happened if either Róise or I tried to consume this alone. Second - you can't absorb a Drop piecemeal. It's the whole thing or nothing at all."

"And neither you nor Róise would leave the other behind," Miriam said, understanding. Cormac shrugged sheepishly.

"It's been her and me against the world since we were kids. If I jumped up to Fifth, what would I do? Go on without her? Not a chance. And besides… we have plans in the Third Ring that need both of us to be leveled up to achieve."

"So you'll both acquire power in Cianán's Walk." Eoin shook his head.

"I stand by my assessment. You're both idiots."

"But is he right?" Miriam asked.

"Will this get us through the Walk?" Eoin shrugged.

"I am hundreds of years old, Miriam. I have studied at the greatest academic institutions in the world outside the innermost rings. I have lied, stolen and tricked my way across the Tír for dozens of lifetimes. And in all that time I have never met anyone who survived Cianán's Walk. So frankly… I have no idea." He turned to Cormac.

"That also means reports of gaining power from the Walk are also largely… to be taken with a grain of salt, let's say. It could just be a death trap with no upsides at all." Cormac nodded.

"I understand. The thing is… Róise met someone who did escape the Walk. And he was almost as strong as you." Eoin rolled his eyes.

"I am not invulnerable to flattery, Cormac, but that really means very little. Anyone from a higher ring could -""When she first met him he was Third Ring," Cormac interrupted.

"Only three years before." Eoin blinked.

"Why… that is extraordinary. There is no chance she was mistaken?"

"No," Cormac insisted.

"He said he entered the Walk on accident, the result of a shipwreck. He refused to talk about what happened inside, only that… well…"

"Yes?" Miriam prodded.

"Well, he said that whatever happened in there, he would rather blind himself than go back," Cormac finished sheepishly.

"If I were not already locked into this plan as an alternative to certain death, I would have a lot more questions for you," Miriam said.

"Guys," Róise called from the deck.

"Maitiú's leaving!" Miriam hurried up on deck to see Maitiú struggling with the dinghy.

"Maitiú! Please, reconsider. Cormac thinks he has something that could help us survive the Walk."

"You're all looney," Maitiú said. He set the small boat free to dangle over the side of the Liaden, where it swooped dangerously, banging violently against the hull.

"I'll trust my life to the sea, same as I have every day of my life, before I trust that… that fop to get me through the Walk!"

"Maitiú, I..." Miriam's words dried up as a heavy thud struck the deck.

"You've run me a merry chase, haven't you?" Ultán said, flexing his knees.

"I ain't the best flier in the world already, and making me do it in weather like this is downright cruel." Miriam shot off a pair of lashings at his legs, but Ultán just walked through them.

"Caught me off guard with that the first time," he said.

"Much respect - no one in the First Ring's ever done me damage like that before." She noticed his forearm seemed completely healed. Ultán roared into the night.

"Where's that lucky bastard, huh? I take great pride in my work, you know, but I have to be honest - after three months and what you pulled back in Arbrey, it's getting to be a little bit personal."

"Hello," Eoin said, stepping forward. He had cut the lines of fórsa keeping the friction of the water low and now the ship began to careen even more to each side. Neither man so much as stumbled.

"We haven't met yet. I'm Eoin Daithi. I'm afraid these kind fellows are under my protection." Ultán squinted his black eyes at him. Slowly, his manic grin faded.

"You sure you want to do that, mate? I was hoping to finish things off quickly here, and if I'm being honest you look like you've seen better days. Might be you'll give me a little trouble, but at the end of the day I'll still finish my job. No reason for a gentleman like yourself to come out the other end the worse for wear, is there?" Eoin bowed, doffing a mimicry of his missing hat.

"I may be ragged and not suited at all for polite company at present, but it seems obvious you've burned a lot of power keeping up these last few hours. My guess is that I can give you more than a little trouble." Ultán snorted angrily and began to pace the deck.

"Dratted rotten luck! Is this your doing, lucky man?" he called out to Cormac, who he spotted coming up the stairs from the cabin. Cormac shrugged.

"Sometimes luck is just the universe setting things to rights. Not my doing!" Ultán seemed to struggle for a moment. Miriam could see the battle on his face, pragmatism warring with pride and anger. Eyes fixated on Eoin, he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small gem. Eoin's eyes widened.

"Oh, gods -" A loud thud rocked the ship as Ultán crushed the gem in his hand. A flurry of Wind fórsa erupted from his palm, wrapping his whole body in thin but furious tornadoes.

"What was that?" Miriam yelled.

"Material Wind Fórsa," Eoin shouted back.

"He just got a good night's sleep in two seconds. A very expensive gambit. Well, this is not ideal -" Ultán's fist rocked across Eoin's jaw, sending the ragged man tumbling back across the deck. He tore after him with all the power of a storm, his feet not even touching the deck. Rain and air roared after him, pushed out of the way by his speed. Miriam took the pressure wave head on and tumbled head over feet to the deck herself, slamming hard into the deck.

At the same time fórsa flooded her body, enough to make her gasp. There on the deck in front of her, shining brilliantly with weeks of stored power, was Solas's Reel. No! Miriam scrambled towards the gem desperately. Without the Reel she would be powerless again, her fórsa jumbled with rotting Blight. She couldn't think of any worse outcome. Until Ultán grabbed Eoin by the neck and flew straight up into the clouds. Immediately as Eoin's feet left the deck, Miriam could sense the hunger of the Líadan.

It was so strong, so pervasive… how could she never sense it before? She could feel invisible arms clawing at her, siphoning off her fórsa in ways that would have made Solas envious. Across the deck she saw that Róise and Cormac were also on their knees, scratching at their skin as if to rid themselves of leeches. The Líadan had been deprived of its fórsa-dense meal and it would take whatever substitute it could. Maitiú was cowering in the dinghy, seemingly unaffected but too terrified to move.

Her guts plummeted in fear as she saw the very wood in the deck in front of her warp and wrap around the purple gem she had held so close to her chest for so long. The Líadan absorbed the Reel, and the whole world broke apart.