Chương 76: Chapter 77: Second Ring

Róise waited impatiently for Sol to catch up. For all of his useful skills, Sol was no stronger or faster than a First, and every first just seemed so slow! Even Miriam, unless she was using her vast fórsa resources to compensate. She had never seen Miriam in such bad shape. The dryad had seemed supernaturally tough. Nothing she had been through seemed anywhere near a match for her overpowered healing.

Cian had warned them that would be less and less true as they got further in - anyone coming out of the inner Rings had advantages no one else did, not least of which because of the conditions of the rings themselves. More fórsa density in the environment meant it took more fórsa to have the same effect it would in places with less density. But they weren't even in the Second Ring yet. Cormac must be right - this was about Miriam's tree. Róise focused as hard as she could on this and not on her brother.

She knew Cormac would be angry with her about revealing herself to that prissy assistant. She almost stopped short when she realized what was most likely happening now. Cormac would kill him, no doubt in her mind. He watched out for her to an almost parental degree, and while she often found it stifling and infantilizing… sometimes she needed it. Róise felt terrible suddenly about making Cormac kill Alaois. He was too gentle a soul to have to make such terrible decisions. That was her role.

So why had she done it now? Róise and Cormac had lived in Shirren for years, under the ever-present shadow of the Séarlait Consortium, and never once did she think of making herself known. Was it just bravado from being a Fourth? Or was she just tired of hiding? Róise shook her head. She needed to think about Miriam now. Revenge could wait. It was very patient. Sol finally caught up to her and led her to where he had left Miriam.

At first Róise thought Miriam was missing, until looking down she saw a flash of yellow among a network of vines canvassing the forest floor. She started to pull up the vines, even as they aggressively regrew. Buried under them was Miriam. The vines were coming from her, as if her body were trying to take root in the earth itself.

"We have to get her to the Second Ring," Róise said, unable to hide the panic in her voice. With her two flashing blades, she severed the vines, flinching each time. What if these were like… limbs to Miriam? She could be causing real damage. Finally she cut Miriam free enough to lift her out of the web of vines. Róise hoped Cormac would find them soon; she was more than strong enough to carry Miriam, but the pixie was smaller than the dryad. It made moving through the forest very awkward.

She couldn't afford to wait for him, so she moved as fast as she could north - inward, towards where the Second Ring should be, not slowing to wait for Sol. Vines trailed off of Miriam as Róise ran, as if they were still seeking the soil. The Rings of the Tír generally followed standard rules in their geography. They were often marked at clear geological points that would show what actually contained the fórsa flow in that area.

In this case, they had guessed the Second Ring would start just beyond the peak of this mountain. There was a road that Róise assumed would wind its way around the mountain, but she guessed it would take too long. She would take Miriam straight up. Róise had never stopped being amazed at her new capabilities as a Fourth, but she still marveled anew at how fast she was able to make it up the mountain, especially with Miriam weighing her down. Sol had disappeared behind them somewhere, but that didn't matter.

She had to get Miriam to the Second Ring. She'd been so arrogant. So cocky, waltzing down those stairs as if nothing could go wrong. Who could have expected three Fifths? Róise finally crested the top of the mountain, a flat surface sparsely dotted with pine trees and open clearings of flat blank snow. Flat, except for a line running lengthways through the center. On one side the snow had been packed down almost an inch further than it had on Róise's side. This was it.

Róise rushed over to the line, feeling the fórsa density change around her as she strode. It was heavier, but… a good weight. In the First Ring everything had felt too buoyant, too light… almost not real. This was better. She found the density relaxing, like a weighted blanket. She crossed the line without stopping and walked twenty more feet past the transition zone, just to be sure. Róise lay Miriam down on the snow.

"Miriam? Miriam, can you hear me?" Her friend was still breathing, but each gasp was shallow and fast. Her skin was far paler than it had been before and she had heavy dark circles under her eyes.

"Miriam?" Róise started Róisín Dubh and gasped. The technique didn't come as easy here as it had in the First Ring. There was… resistance she hadn't noticed before. The technique still began, but it was slower… and she was sure, weaker. Nothing happened. The burns on Miriam's stomach didn't heal.

"No, no, no!" Róise said, dropping to her knees.

"I don't know what else to do!" The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Vines began to wrap around Miriam, pulling her tight against the ground. Róise manifested her knives, but after a moment, let them fade away. There was nothing to be done. She could just cut the vines away over and over, but they wouldn't stop.

"Roise!" Cormac burst up through the clearing, bounding through the Second Ring line without a thought. Sol was still nowhere to be seen.

"Is Miriam…?" She just pointed, tears tracking down her face.

"It wasn't enough," she said. Cormac pulled her into a comforting embrace as they watched their friend be consumed by nature. ✧✧✧ Miriam knew this place. It was the sticky between-worlds she had dropped through when he had first entered the well on her way to the Tír. It clung to her and pulled at her skin. Dark this time, no luring light of a malevolent Wisp to guide her way. I've missed you, Miriam. It wasn't a voice. It was an emotion, but one she understood so clearly as to be able to assign it language.

Sailleach? She thought slowly. Everything seemed to be moving slowly, even her mind. I prefer you to just think of me as your willow, the emotion said, bemused. Who knew what I would be getting myself into when I played those games with your grandfather? Did I die again? Miriam felt sad at the idea. She had fallen short so far from her goal! No, not this time. Well, you're sort of dying now. But not really. The tree filled her with a sense of warmth, of home that struck Miriam to her heart.

We'll get a chance to talk like this at each Ring you enter. You've learned that dryads are not native to the Tír. As such any time you move to a Ring higher the tree which is your patron must rebuild you again. That's what I'm doing now. Can you make me taller? The feeling of laughter. Yes, if you want. Miriam considered for a moment. No, best leave me as I am. Who wants to go through learning how to be a new height? We have only a few moments, so I need to warn you.

The path you're on becomes more dangerous by the minute. You've caught the attention of old Cianán, and most who do that live short lives indeed. The King? No King of mine! Sailleach's anger was palpable in this space. He's a cruel old bastard and he'll have his fun with you however he chooses. Even I can't see his plans, but he will use anything he can to entertain himself at your expense. He'll never let me into the Ruari Cistern, will he? Again Sailleach felt amused. You don't need the Cistern! You have me!

But you're right about one thing. Cianán won't let you win his game. Be wary. He is a master of trickery. He has agents in every Ring, in every Quadrant, too terrified of him to dare disobey. Trust no one. I won't. One last thing - a possible path forward, as a reward for making it so far already. You will not retake Shirren without what you may find inside Teilgcheárta. I do not order you there - what tree gives or takes orders? Merely a gift, if you choose to stay on your present path.

Miriam could feel the space around her tightening. Her time here was ending. One last thing! Please! You are still there too, aren't you? By the house in WIllowcrest? And many other places besides, yes. My family. Are they… is everyone well? The tree felt warmer again, as if it too relished the memories of Willow House. Your funeral was a large affair, though mostly for your children and grandchildren who remain in Willowcrest. Many moving words were spoken.

There is concern of more war to come, but nothing seems certain yet. Your granddaughter Mora has moved into the House and has begun to make it her own. They are all well and healthy as any one could expect to be. Thank you. ✧✧✧ Sol finally made it to the top of the mountain, huffing and out of breath. Does this wreck of a body not have a cardiovascular system? Ultán's voice was harsh. I climbed mountains bigger than this when I was a pup!

"I'm doing my best," Sol said. Sympathy you'll get from Solas, you certainly will! The exploits of the body pale before those of the Mind. What use did I ever have to improve such a weak thing?

"Please," he panted.

"Stop talking for five minutes. Please." Sol straightened up and made his way to where Cormac and Róise were huddled beside a tall willow tree that seemed like it must have been growing there a hundred years.

"Where is Miriam?" Cormac only gestured towards the willow.

"She wrapped up in vines and grew into this," Róise said, her face tracked with tears.

"She's dead, Sol."

"We don't know that, Róise," Cormac said, but even Sol could tell he agreed with her. They stood there together beside the tree for a while longer. When the sun had lowered to touch the top of the mountain range to the west they heard a sharp crack coming from the willow tree. A line formed on the trunk, zig-zagged and widening. A hand clawed out. At first the figure emerging from the tree was doing so violently, the panicked throes of a confused newborn. Then it seemed to pause and take a breath.

Then, as easily as walking through a waterfall, Miriam stepped out of the tree, her body simply pushing the wood aside with her dryad power.

"Gah, why do I always have to be naked for this?" Miriam said, awkwardly covering her bits.

"Miriam!" Róise shrieked, running over to hug her, modesty be damned. Sol smiled and rummaged through Miriam's pack. She had a change of clothes, but they weren't particularly warm.

"Welcome back," he said, tossing the clothes to her while politely averting his eyes. He missed completely.

"Glad you're ok," Cormac said confidently, as if he's never had a doubt in the world - also averting his eyes. What a load of right gentlemen you all are, Ultán sneered. Solas agrees. Give me not a naked body but a naked mind! Sol stopped himself before he asked them both to shut up out loud. Miriam fished her clothes out of the snow and slid them on. She had another pair of the loose pants she'd worn in the jungle and a backless black shirt, which was stylish but utterly inappropriate for the snow.

"It's ok," Miriam said.

"I still have my heavy coat. I can find something better eventually."

"Miriam," Róise said.

"The wounds on your stomach and the hand print on your back… they didn't go away. You have the scars of them, at least."

"They didn't?" Miriam looked herself over.

"Ugh. I wonder why? Sailleach said she rebuilt my body for the Second Ring." Her eyes seemed to catch something through the trees.

"Is that smoke?"

"It's Teilgcheárta," Cormac said.

"The iron foundry. Turns out Róise's brother was trying to steal iron from it, which is why those brutes were in that mine shaft. It looks like there's a mountain road that runs just below the ridge. We should be able to avoid the city and head on towards Innushi and Shirren."

"No," Miriam said.

"We have to go to Teilgcheárta."