Chương 77: Chapter 78: Teilgcheárta

I can't say I've ever followed the advice of a tree before," Cormac said as he slid two feet down the slope, nearly crashing into Róise.

"In general I've found them less than adequate conversationalists, so perhaps I can't be blamed." Miriam laughed politely. Cormac was doing what he always did - fill work with aimless chatter. Normally she didn't mind it, but now it seemed out of place. Perhaps because it seemed like there were so many more important things to discuss. Like Sol. Miriam loved Sol. Or… at least they had come to be very close during the harrowing escape from Cianán's Walk.

She did get the creeps every now and then knowing that part of him was once Solas's Reel, but that seemed to happen less and less. The problem now was simply that he wasn't keeping up. Róise and Cormac were very obviously holding back so as not to leave Miriam behind, but Sol was hopeless. He got stuck on fallen branches, mired in by snowdrifts - obstacles that the other three ignored. In short… he had the physicality of a regular person from the First Ring.

The quality that enabled him to even walk with them in the Second Ring was the same that prevented him from advancing to Second himself; he had no fórsa weave at all. The deeper in they went, the more vulnerable Sol would become. For the hundredth time Miriam regretted not leaving him with the villagers. Not that she felt great about that either. Seven hundred souls without protection, none of whom knew the first thing about the outside Tír. To be fair, neither did Miriam. Luíseach had practically shoved them away.

Far from being the innocent babes in the wilderness Cian thought they would be, she and the quickly self-elected Council of the Walk had devised clear plans of action - none of which they needed Miriam and her group for. After Róise and Cormac had scouted out the nearest towns on the First Ring side, Luíseach had been able to barter for a large plot of land in between the two - which everyone was happy about since the two towns seemed to hate each other.

The seven hundred villagers were also gifted a fortune from Sol - namely two small crates of material fórsa. If they found the right buyers, they would be the richest small town in the First Ring. They had big plans. First establish a home base. Check - or at least, started. Establish local trade. Also started. Locate advantageous trading routes. Acquire means of transportation.

Adopt a staple product - Luíseach was thinking of growing some of the rare fruits they had brought with them from Cianán's Walk, if she could get them to thrive in a new environment. All backed by the riches of Sol's material fórsa. He would have had a place there. Honestly, he was a golden goose for them. But he insisted he had to come along with Miriam, Róise and Cormac.

"How do we get into Teilgcheárta?" Miriam asked.

"From what you were telling me, it's likely to be a fortress. If armies couldn't break in how could we?" Róise grimaced.

"I had an idea, but I hate it." The mountain was softening up now, the slopes not nearly as treacherous as they had been on the way down. The smoke from Teilgcheárta was beginning to assault their noses, an acrid, oily smell that promised to only get worse the closer they walked. The sky was also darkening under the smoke - still diffused this far out but it seemed likely that the city itself toiled in perpetual shadow. Cormac grinned.

"Those are the best ideas! Remember when we knocked over that jeweler, and your big idea was to try to hit on the owner as a distraction?" Róise turned bright red.

"We don't need to talk about that!"

"No, it was amazing! The proprietor was this, let's say middle aged? Pixie woman, all stern, no-nonsense, a wear-formal-gowns-to-the-workplace sort of gal. Why Róise thought of all people this lady would have her head turned by -""That's enough, Cormac!"

"- by a street rat just out of her eighties I don't know. So Róise saunters into the shop while I'm busy out back picking the lock, and I swear to Bodac she says…

'You come here often?' To the lady who owns the shop!" Cormac almost stumbled, he was laughing so hard. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Maybe if you had come through with the luck, it would have worked!" she said, hiding her face in her hands.

"Oh, dear," Cormac said.

"No amount of luck in the world could have saved that."

"What's your idea now?" Miriam said, trying to throw Róise a lifeline.

"Can't be worse than that."

"It is," Róise said, still glaring at Cormac.

"We go in as representatives of the Séarlait Consortium."

"Oh," he said, his smile fading instantly.

"That is a really terrible idea."

"Maybe not," Róise said, speaking quickly.

"We know things only the Séarlait Consortium would know about what Caolán's been up to in that mine back in the First Ring. We can go in and wreck relations between the Consortium and Teilgcheárta - maybe even with Shorinu!"

"Róise, we don't have nearly enough information for that," Miriam said.

"What if there is already another representative in the city? What if they've already been discussing and we have no context for what's already been said? The only thing we have is a secret they have no quick way of confirming and you - a pixie girl that's supposedly dead. I just don't see how it could work." Róise glowered.

"Fine. I told you it was a bad idea." As the mountain transitioned to the valley floor, the environment around them began to look even more bleak. There were wide expanses of what must have been farmland at one point, but was now just churned dirt, stained black by the few soot-dusted snowflakes that managed to evade the smoke.

They stumbled onto a well-maintained road - paved with a clever mixture of sand, gravel and clay which created a smoother road than Miriam had ever seen in the Tír - or really in her old home either. The foundry city Teilgcheárta was never not visible. Smokestacks nearly as high as some of the mountains ringing the valley billowed forth smoke at a whitewater pace. As they got closer the walls came into view, towering weaves of dead stone and cold iron.

It was apparent why an army of Sidhe could never take this city. Even looking at that much iron raised the hairs on the back of Miriam's neck. The scale of the city was even grander than it appeared - the outer gates and infrastructure were all nearly ten feet tall. This was a city for giants.

"Crockern," Róise said, pointing to a pair of workers who seemed to be repairing a hinge on one of the smaller doors. These men were easily nine feet tall. Their skin looked more like granite than flesh, but she could see them moving smoothly - almost the way Sol looked to be made out of wood, but remained pliable. Their hair was different shades of lichen green and hung over their shoulders in ropes.

"I knew a Crockern in Shirren," Cormac said.

"Good guy. Very tough. I knew Shorinu had a large population of them, but I had never heard of Teilgcheárta before."

"They're probably uniquely suited to the job," Róise said.

"Their skin is almost like iron itself. Might be they have a strong resistance to iron sickness." Miriam looked Róise.

"Iron sickness?"

"Yeah. Cold iron is the most dangerous substance in the Tír. If you spend too much time around it, parts of your body go inert. You even start to lose brain function if you're exposed to it for too long." Róise nodded over at Sol.

"Hey Sol! When you were the Líadan, how did you handle the cold iron?" Sol shrugged.

"It didn't bother me that much. To be fair, there wasn't much of me to bother at the time, but it felt like… cold that burns, I guess? The parts of the ship that touched it did go inert, as you said, but it didn't spread far."

"Anyway, Crockern are as a whole very insular," Cormac said.

"Very standoffish, and grumpy. It took the one I knew in Shirren weeks to warm up to me!"

"I think that says more about you than about Crockern," Róise said. As they approached the gate they were on guard for anyone who might step out to challenge them, but all the Crockern they saw seemed busy doing other tasks. In fact, there seemed to be a steady stream of travelers joining them on the road to Teilgcheárta of all races.

"Hardly seems like a city under siege," Sol said.

"I have to say I expected getting in to be much harder than this.

"Well the Séarlait flunky did say that they pretended relations with Shorinu were good. Why should it be under siege if that's the case?" Cormac waved cheerfully at another Bodac he saw pulling a cart away from the city. The other Bodac ignored him. A huge Crockern stepped forward to block their path. They all tensed - this was what they had expected.

"Here for the work camp?"

"The work camp…?" Cormac started,"Yes," Miriam interrupted.

"Where do we go?" The Crockern pointed them to another door in the iron wall, which led them to a large line of Sidhe waiting in front of another door, as varied as those they had seen on the road. They were told to line up and the Deputy Overseer would address the workers shortly. Quickly Cormac started chatting to the other workers in line.

"It's perfect," he said when they huddled back up.

"I guess there's a shortage of workers in the iron foundry, so they've put out calls for work gangs. Apparently they are very non-discriminating - you show up, you get put on the payroll." Miriam frowned.

"Something seems odd about this. For a city-state who is militant about keeping their own sovereignty, they seem to be opening their doors quite easily."

"Quiet!" a Crockern barked. He loomed over everyone in the line; no one had any trouble seeing, despite the size of the crowd.

"We have three separate work camps. This is the camp for independent contractors. If you have an existing contract with the government of Shorinu or if you are currently under contract with the Séarlait Consortium, speak up now and we will send you to the right camp."

"Here!" a small voice rang out.

"I'm under contract with Séarlait!"

"Róise!" Cormac hissed.

"What the hell are you doing?"