Chương 96: The Heart’s Grotto

Ferris shook his head.

"The whole of Teilgcheárta was the same as the grotto. Iron grown into their bodies, their minds repurposed solely to the task of moving. I was alone in the entire city. Even the Regent had been taken."

"The entire city?" Róise asked incredulously.

"How did you get from that to this? We may have spotted that there was something wrong, but the idea that you rebuilt the city so fast is… nearly unbelievable." The older Crockern nodded.

"You're right about that. In the time after the Heartburst, I was… lost, for want of a better word. I shut the gates to the outside world. I wanted to delay anyone finding out about the tragedy as long as possible. I… put the Iron Dead to work." Sol blinked.

"To work? You mean the Crockern in the lower mines…"

"All Iron Dead. But it's been a foolish endeavor. Teilgcheárta is done for." Ferris sighed.

"The Heart no longer produces new iron. All we are doing now is mining out the dregs. Delaying for as long as possible its inevitable end."

"Who is?" Róise asked.

"You cannot have gathered this many Crockern and kept the city mines going by yourself."

"I didn't," Ferris said.

"I made a deal with a devil. But that's neither here nor there. Not important down here in the mines while Caolán Séarlait's looking for the Heart. What remains important is that we get to it before he does. For all I know he may be there already."

"He doesn't know exactly where it is," Róise said, sharing the maps he'd taken from the patrol.

"These patrols are looking for it now."

"Then we don't have a moment to lose," Ferris said.

"We're not far now." He held the gem shard up to the light.

"My guess is that Onóra Síle, the gemsmith the Overseer contracted, is the creator of these. She was the only one I know of who knew the Heart well enough to mimic its effects. If she's in league with Caolán Séarlait then Teilgcheárta has simply been a pawn in a game we were too small to see. And it's a game I didn't even know I was losing." Ferris led them down more tight passages, heading deeper and deeper.

However, he didn't always take the routes that headed the most down - sometimes they found themselves hiking uphill, or moving laterally for long stretches.

"It's a fool's guess that the Heart would be at the bottom," Ferris said.

"It doesn't care for spaces - it creates equally in all directions. The lower mines are just the veins that are harder to get to. Those are usually richer because older generations of Teilgcheártans didn't bother going for them when the upper mines would replenish themselves just fine." In the end, the entrance to the Heart's Grotto was unimpressive. It was simply another cave mouth, albeit one that opened into a wider chamber than those below.

Sol had expected to see statues of past Regents, or intricate decorations, but like the rest of Teilgcheárta it was all form over function. The room was largely empty, save for what seemed to be a table and chairs at one side where meetings could happen, and the altar at the far end.

"I expected more, if I'm being honest," Róise said. Ferris huffed.

"The entire city above our heads is trophy enough for the Heart of Iron. This is a room for maintenance and adjustment - not reverence. It is a magnificent tool - but Teilgcheártans are not a people to worship objects. We are the Heart's caretakers - not its subjects." Luckily, it seemed they were the first to arrive - there was no sign of any Séarlait patrols. Ferris quickly ordered his men to construct a defensive position in the tunnels outside the grotto.

There were several Earth Natures among the Crockern and they basically sealed the tunnel with rock.

"Any other Earth Nature will know that's an artificial barrier," Ferris explained.

"But it might slow them down if they're not looking for it." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Meanwhile Sol found himself wandering shakily towards the altar, on which sat the Heart of Iron. It was a rich purple, affixed at the top and bottom by veins of iron which stretched up to the ceiling and pierced the altar to push into the floor. It glowed with a faint light, ebbing in pulses. A heartbeat, he realized.

There was something so familiar about the Heart - something that called to him as kin. The same sort of kinship he'd felt with Cian. As he fought his right hand from reaching out to it, he felt tendrils of something reaching out to him too.

"It's alive," he whispered.

"I always thought it was," Ferris said wistfully, walking up beside him.

"It seemed like it… breathed, for lack of a better word."

"What's the plan now?" Sol asked.

"We're barricaded in here with the Heart, but Séarlait and his men will get here eventually." Ferris smiled sadly.

"No, they won't." He reached out his damaged, iron-sick hand and grasped the Heart of Iron. His eyes glowed purple as he said one simple word.

"Kill." ✧✧✧ Miriam was feeling much better, but still found herself being carried piggyback by Cormac. He and Eoin were simply so much faster than she was that any other alternative would have increased the risk of the Séarlaits catching them. As she bounced on Cormac's back, she thought about how often she had been outmatched in her months in the Tír.

She had relished the power she had at her fingertips, both in manipulating fórsa and in the strength of her own muscles, but all too often she found herself dwarfed by the strength found in Thirds, Fourths and Fifths. It was almost enough to make her sympathize with Solas, who wanted nothing more than to ascend from his pitiful origins. Almost… but actually, no. There was no sympathizing with that bastard. But she could at least understand his motivation. She resolved to correct her weakness as soon as possible.

Maybe even at the expense of working with a man who was contracted to kill her.

"Movement ahead," Eoin said in the darkness.

"I don't see any lights," Cormac responded, panting.

"There are none," the Selkie said.

"I sent my Mist ahead as a kind of echolocation. There are a group of Crockern there, but they're standing idly in the dark."

"Should we light the lanterns?" Miriam asked. They had scrounged two light sources from the Séarlait patrol Eoin had eliminated, but refrained from using them. Eoin claimed the darkness gave them an advantage.

"Yes," Eoin said, his voice tinged with an emotion Miriam couldn't read. He seemed perturbed.

"What's wrong?" The lantern flared to life in Eoin's hand. It lit his face with stark shadows, making him appear almost as sinister as Miriam was beginning to think he might truly be underneath.

"I've had an odd feeling ever since I found these on the patrol." He held out one of the gem shards.

"Now my Mist up ahead is reading something that feels very similar on those Crockern."

"They have stones like that too?" Cormac asked, letting Miriam slide off his back.

"No. It's not something they have. It's something they are. It's very confounding." Eoin shook his head at the stone.

"Also, this stone… it's far too well crafted for the Second Ring."

"It's from Caolán Séarlait. We have to assume he has the resources to get upper Ring materials." Eoin sighed.

"I suppose. I just wish I knew why it bothered me so." Miriam stretched, luxuriating in no longer being a backpack.

"Shall we go introduce ourselves to these Crockern? My fórsa feels like I might be up to a fight, even if I'm not a hundred percent."

"Well, we can't go back," Eoin reasoned.

"It would seem the time for stealth is over." He raised his hand and the mist he had scattered in front of them coalesced into glowing orbs, lighting the way in blue.

"You couldn't have done that the whole time?" Cormac said incredulously.

"I've been running in the dark like a drunk at the end of a long stag night!"

"Good training!" Eoin said cheerfully.

"It takes extra effort, so I thought best to save my strength when we had alternatives." The three of them crept down the tunnel, the blue lights giving them only hints of things any further than ten feet ahead. Then they heard a choking roar from further down the tunnel and the sound of slapping feet on stone, but it was as if whomever was running towards them had metal shoes.

"Oh gods," Eoin said, and suddenly the tunnel was fully illuminated in blue light. Only thirty feet away was a group of at least a dozen Crockern. Their skin reflected oddly in the light, making it seem as if they themselves were lit from within. Their faces were wretched to look at, some half-flensed, all locked in an excruciating rictus. They were stumbling over themselves to be the first to reach their targets, jowls slavering, hands spindled out like claws.

"What in Bodac's name are these?" Cormac said, taking a step back, tightening his fists around his brass knuckles. Miriam had no answer. She just began forming her vine spears.