Chương 62: Domhain

Domhain was only about half the size of Láthair Maol, but it was very different. Cian told them that Domhain meant "deep" in the old tongue, and that was an absolutely appropriate name. The entirety of the bald spot was one enormous chasm, filled inexplicably by a layer of white clouds no one could see through - though Cian had assured them the distance to the bottom was considerable..

What made it a legitimate bald spot and not just a hole, was an incredible path of hexagonal basalt columns that led through the center of the chasm. It was hard to believe this was a natural formation, but Cian had also told them that this sort of rock formation actually did happen on its own sometimes. In his case however, it was anything but natural. It was a nice, wide path, big enough for two wagons. The only danger anyone faced of falling off was if you were really, really not cautious with your life.

There were already streams of villagers walking tiredly to the other side, some with crates strapped to their backs carrying their most vital resource: Sol's material fórsa. In fact it seemed that most villagers had overtaken them in the jungle. They were met with tired, but warm welcomes as they began to walk across the bridge. They all treated Sol with something akin to reverence - he had done what even Cian could not and given them the key to their freedom.

Some others walked slowly, looking back often in the direction of Láthair Maol. It was easy to determine which were the ones who had planned to leave and the ones who were forced to. Surprisingly, Miriam found Luíseach among the stragglers walking with them.

"Hi," she said, matching her pace to the villager's.

"I expected you to be at the beach already, ready to go." Luíseach looked away, and even though no blush showed on her pallid skin, she seemed clearly embarrassed.

"This… this is all my fault. I helped Maitiú steal the Drop of Intent. If I hadn't, the people who wanted to stay wouldn't be giving up their homes. It wasn't fair that I had to stay… but it's also not fair that they have to leave. So I'm trying to help as much as I can." Miriam nodded and put her hand on Luíseach's shoulder reassuringly.

"It was a mistake, but I don't think anyone blames you for making it. We do a lot of things we might regret when our freedom is on the line." The banshee shook her head and began to speak, as if to refute Miriam's kind words, but her voice was suddenly gone. Then Miriam realized she could see through the villager. She turned to her friends in a panic.

"Domhain's being absorbed into the jungle!" Just as it had happened with Sol, people all around them were beginning to fade away. He too was fading just as fast as the villagers. However, Róise and Cormac seemed to be fading much more slowly. Miriam looked around in a panic.

"We have to get off the bridge!" Róise and Cormac just looked at her, confused. They couldn't hear a word she was saying, she realized. Then, all the way back at the start of the basalt bridge, she saw the darkness begin to take hold here as well. It came like a rolling fog over the treeline, blackening the early evening glow like a candle which had burned out its wick, smothered in its own wax. This time, though, she was close enough to see something in the blackened jungle.

Two fiery orange eyes above a maw of orange flame, swaying as if with deep, heavy breaths. Miriam ran. The basalt columns shook beneath her, causing her to lose her balance and crash painfully to one knee. Looking at the other end of the bridge she fired off a Vine Leap, desperate to get back on solid ground, even if it was the deadly jungle. In the middle of her leap, she was plucked out of the air by ferocious jaws wrapped around her left arm.

Half a dozen stingers on tentacles stabbed her all over, quicker that she could even register each point of pain. It was the tentacled cat species Róise had mentioned. A Third Ring enemy! At this point in Domhain it should have only been a Second! Her flight arrested and knocked back by the cat's momentum, Miriam fell. Twisting her body against the cat's grip, she managed to reach out one hand to the edge of a basalt column right as it flew by.

Her fingers brushed the stone as she tumbled down into the clouds, unable to grab hold with the fangs of the cat still tearing at her arm relentlessly. The last thing Miriam saw before the sky tumbled out of view was the translucent faces of Róise and Cormac reaching out for her and shouting. Then she was gone, and clouds were all she could see. ✧✧✧ Róise thought she could almost touch Miriam as she fell, but the dryad just dropped soundlessly away.

She couldn't see what it was that had attacked her - to Róise it was some invisible horror. The only thing she could be sure of was that Miriam was gone. Most likely… dead. Regardless of her attacker, Cian had insinuated that the fall was of a monumental height. Miriam was tough… but no one was likely to survive that. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. She shook her head. No use moping.

She would perform better if she thought Miriam still had a chance, so for the moment that was what she would believe. However, Róise knew she could not go down to get her. For one, by the time she figured out a way to the bottom, Miriam would already have faded to her own version of Domhain with no way for Róise to even see her, much less rescue her. And then there was the darkness slowly enveloping the island. Róise didn't have time for detours.

She turned to Cormac, who apparently had been talking this whole time. Róise couldn't hear him either, and he was turning more translucent by the second. He looked panicked, which was not a face she was used to seeing on Cormac. She pointed to the far end of the bridge.

"Go! I'll meet you at Scior!" His mouth stopped moving for a moment as his eyes pleaded with her to somehow tell him this wasn't actually happening. Then he set his jaw and nodded. He mouthed very clearly "I will see you there." Then he turned and ran down the quaking basalt columns. After only half a second, Róise followed him, but by the time she reached the end of the bridge, he was gone. Rustling awaited in the brush.

Róise summoned her blades and began Seven Drunken Nights just as a beast she had never seen before flattened two trees, roaring out of the jungle. This was a one-eyed white rabbit in the shape of a man, but twice the size. It even wore a red tunic hung long over furred legs with no visible pants. In one hand it held a rusty iron trident. Muscles bulged over every inch of the creature and it locked the one red eye in the middle of its forehead onto Róise. She cursed. The rabbit could see her.

Which meant that Seven Drunken Nights wasn't working. Róise was certain she had begun the technique before the rabbit had burst out of the jungle. No, she thought it was working - it just wasn't having the effect it should. This creature should have been a Fourth - on par with her. It should have had the same effect on this creature as it had when Cian had set ten Thirds on her while she had still been one - meaning one creature mesmerized per Night. This creature was at least a Fifth.

With reflexes that reminded Róise of Ultán the rabbit hoisted his trident up, tossing it into the air and catching it again, its grip now reversed. As soon as its palm hit the metal the trident was launched toward her with incredible speed. She really wished she had Cormac's luck with her now! Róise could never hope to dodge.

She could tell that even as the rabbit had tossed the trident up, so in the second before it grabbed the trident again, she tried something she had practiced with Cian, but never attempted in outmatched combat like this. She fired off two techniques at once.

"Not all of your techniques are going to be compatible with each other," Cian had lectured.

"But this is a separate technique itself. You have to find two tunes with close to the same tempo, the same meter - the same speed. Róisín Dubh can't ever work with Seven Drunken Nights - it's far too slow and melancholy. If you've got two similar enough techniques, if you can bend your head around it, you can get the effects of both. But be careful - it drains your fórsa twice as quickly!"

Róise activated Medley, and alongside the bawdy Seven Drunken Nights began a verse of a tune she always heard sung loud and rowdy - Banks of Red Roses. The trident thundered towards her and she slammed both of her blades against the forks, made just fast enough and strong enough by the added technique to knock it off course and into the dirt in front of the basalt columns.

The rabbit inclined its head in respect and with one beckoning gesture the trident catapulted back into his hand with enough force to push even him back a few feet. He examined the forks and seemed concerned that there were now cracks in the metal. Róise didn't have time to wait for the rabbit to take the offensive. She had to move now. She was two Nights in, and the rabbit's eye did seem a little glassier, but was still coordinated. It could still see her as a threat.

Cian had often said that one Ring up was more than double the power, but Róise had hoped she could close this out at two Nights. Now she thought it might be more like four. She was tempted to drop the Medley to ensure she didn't run out of fórsa before the mesmerization took hold and wait at a distance, but she didn't dare. The rabbit was too deadly. Róise juked left and right, boosted by Banks of Red Roses to be a bit faster than a Fourth should be.

The rabbit kept his trident trained on her, his eye never missing her as she advanced. Faster! She had to get close enough before - The trident speared her through the stomach, pushing her back off her feet, then pinning her to the dirt. Banks of Red Roses faded. She still held on to Seven Drunken Nights. The third Night finished as she gasped in pain, the world swaying around her - not just from her technique but the blood loss. The rabbit staggered as it stepped towards her. The technique was taking effect!

She just needed time for one more Night. The rabbit was definitely more sluggish now, but it still kept its eye trained on her. It took one step closer, then another, picking up speed as it fought against her technique. Finally it leaned over and grabbed the trident with one hand. Róise screamed, clawing her fingers into the dirt as the rabbit slowly pulled the barbed tines from her body. The rabbit knelt down shakily and gave her a nod of respect. He pulled the trident back. The Fourth Night finished.

Róise hurled the fistfulls of dirt she'd grabbed directly into the rabbit's single eye. Its reaction time slowed by Seven Drunken Nights, it caught the full brunt of the attack. The rabbit clutched at its eye, blinded for a moment - but not for long. It whirled back around, having forced its lone, bloodshot eye open. It swayed drunkenly, its eye going unfocused as it no longer recognized any target to hunt. Róise staggered to her feet, summoning her blades with her last remaining fórsa.

Rivers of blood pouring from three triangular holes in her torso, she stabbed both blades into the rabbit's chest with all her might. The rabbit grunted, looking down in confusion. Then it slumped over, the trident clattering to the ground. Róise joined it a moment later, clutching her stomach. Róisín Dubh was needed here, but she was fórsa-dry. She would lose consciousness any minute. Instead, with weak fingers, she fished a small sphere from a pouch tied around her neck.

"Bless you, Sol," Róise whispered as she absorbed material fórsa Sol had made from her own Life nature and given back to her only days ago. Róisín Dubh felt like a cool invigorating breeze coursing down rich green hills and her wounds began to close.