Yeah, that tracks. Nico didn't know much about New England forest going into all of this, but he's sure had a crash course these last 48 hours.

He'll draw a line in the dirt with his foot, connecting the four trees. As ritual barriers go it's pretty minimalist, but four is a stable number and squares are a stable arrangement. And, probably he won't even need it.

It's already more like mud than dirt, but you manage.

Now, let's see about this wire.

The main thing is to not break it. It felt like focus, before, like something is paying attention to him that wasn't before. Or, no, it goes in both directions. Like two things were paying attention to each other, and now he's standing between them.

You can't interact with human attention very much. You can track it, compel it a little, or deflect a little, but that's about it. These, though, clearly aren't (just?) human.

Can the energies of his own two souls interact with it, the way it does with his vagus nerve?

If that works, can he interact with the part that isn't running directly through him, toward the ground or the sky?

And if that works, can he nudge it aside just a little bit, so that it runs through that bush before it disappears into the earth? He's not going to try to shift the part that runs through him, just in case he can.

Yes, that all works. The wire is phenomenally responsive to your will. You have the strong impression that whatever's at either end of it is paying attention to you particularly; you aren't just standing in the way.

You're pretty sure that you could push it outside of yourself, if you made the effort, but it would snap right back into you as soon as you allowed it.

See that's the kind of thing you test in a workshop, under controlled conditions.

Let's try a different ambitious thing, instead.

Nico sits down in the mud, one hand on his chosen bush. Slowly, slowly, he lets his awareness of the rain and wind and thunder fade away, until his whole world is just that one thin strand of power.

Most things that people knew, through history, were not powerful alchemical secrets. Nico knew he was going to have to search through all the world's lost lore to get the things he really wanted, and right now he doesn't see any way to do that. He doesn't know, strictly speaking, that what he's connected to has anything to do with his objective at all. So he's not going to put any expectations into this fast, dirty little working. He's just going to issue an invitation. Just...meet the new neighbors. Be friendly. But he'll leave the bush between him and whatever he's inviting, just in case.

He composes himself into a spirit of hopeful welcome, and says, calmly, steadily, "Come up and say hello."

The wire seems to vibrate faintly, like a plucked harpstring. Almost at once a tiny eyeless face, really just a mouth and a suggestion of a chin, presses outward from the bark of one of the branches of the bush. The mouth is moving, but nothing's audible over the rain and wind.

This kind of thing never happens!! Nico leans closer.

"Siki gu-la nu-ub-da-an-ku₄ — geme₂-e ĝiš-gana₂-tug₂"

That was language!

But...not language he recognizes. Most people in history spoke languages Nico doesn't recognize that's probably wrong, the Long Dark was long but also sparsely populated. Still, as a way of gaining knowledge right now this isn't very promising. Inviting the spirit into himself might work better...but first he should, at the very least, figure out how to invite the specific spirits he wants. It will take some more study and ritual, and probably the whole Adam deck back together again, but there's a path.

And even if there's not, he's going to have conjured material assistants, like Simon Magus had! Lots of alchemists conjured spirits to learn from, but only old Simon got them to carry him around through the sky. Nico can probably do something at least that good. The two greatest alchemists ever are Simon Magus and Nicolas Anastos.

In that order, for now.

"Return to your home," he tells the spirit. "I'll call you again when I have need of you." He'll pull the wire back out of it, too.

"Uri₂ki ba-gul — ki-sikil er₂ im-ma-ši-in-de₂—"

It doesn't leave. If anything, it's getting more excited. The branches of the bush begin to wave against the gusting wind, and curl toward you. Now that the wire is out of it you can feel the pressure of its own attention, distinct from whatever lives in the ground and sky.

Hmmmm.

Nico will walk away a bit and step over his ritual barrier, such as it is. Does that do anything?

It stops trying to reach out to you, anyway. It settles in place, leaves drooping sadly. But it's still whispering to itself, something you can't catch over the storm.

That...will probably stop on its own, after a while. Though wouldn't it be interesting if it didn't? Nico will check on it later, after things have calmed down a little.

The next thing to do is to test it on something inanimate, like a rock no, there's no reason to think that test would turn out any better, as far as Nico's short-term goals are concerned. Later he can try it out with a rock Kyle's car a HELICOPTER probably better to start small but this is also a decision he can make later when he's out of the rain and had some sleep, and maybe thought a little harder about how to get rid of these things if they don't feel like leaving. For now, back to the original plan.

Nico walks away, downhill as best he can gauge it, and doesn't look back.

The first few rumbles of thunder didn't worry Sophie. She's been in thunderstorms before, it's not that big a deal. The darkness didn't bother her either; they both have cell phones, and even if they can't use them to call people they still make good flashlights.

But once the thunderclaps start coming every single second, once she can put away her phone flashlight because the lightning bolts are strobing fast enough to see by...she tries to hide it from Emily but she admits it to herself, she's shaken.

If I die out here, my dad is going to kill me spiral into depression and never recover.

Oops, that was supposed to be a sarcastic mood-lightening joke, and then it went wrong at the very end! Shit! She did ONE impulsive thing and it's already gone SO BAD.

Except, no, if she'd gone with her instincts then Emily would be out here alone, and that would be even worse.

The problem, she decides, looking at her rising panic from the outside, is that there isn't anything they can do better. They're already hobbling as fast as Emily can, in what they both think is the right direction. But they keep getting blown around, and they have to stay awkwardly close so that Emily can lean on her, and Sophie doesn't think she can carry Emily piggyback, not for any distance in this wind. All her nervous energy is just trapped, spiraling, not doing anything useful.

In the spaces between thunderclaps, Sophie and Emily hear a steady roaring from the leaves far above.  It's started to rain, and rain hard, and it splashes at them in vindictive little bursts as the spring leaves get overloaded.

Then there's a new sound, an explosive crack like a shot from an enormous rifle.  Sophie's vision cuts out, then fades back in through a glaring white afterimage.  Her legs are tingling, but she's still on her feet.

Emily's fallen over, bleeding from the head.  Sophie can't tell what struck her.  Her eyes are open but they don't look too focused.

That was a flash.  Of lightning.  Lightning must have struck one of the trees. Oh shit.

"Emily!"

Can she walk?  It's become really really important that she walk.

"don' worr'. wull way 'eer..." Her speech is slurred and uncertain. Her eyes, as they meet Sophie's, aren't quite focusing. She waves one hand a little but she isn't trying to get up.

Sure. Of course! Why wouldn't there be more?! She's going to have to try to carry Emily and she can't, she isn't strong, but maybe she can manage 100 feet and maybe that will be enough.

This isn't going to work.

No. Think it outright: this isn't going to work. She needs something better. There has to be something.

She needs...she needs...she has to...

There's one resource she hasn't tried to tap yet.

"HEY! PSYCHIC BEAR! THIS WHOLE WEIRD DAY IS PROBABLY YOUR FAULT, OR IF IT'S NOT YOU PROBABLY KNOW SOMETHING! SO GET OVER HERE AND TELL ME ABOUT IT! I PROMISE NOT TO KILL YOU WITH MY MIND, OR WHATEVER YOU WERE AFRAID OF BEFORE! I JUST WANT TO TALK!"

Did that do anything?

The thunder rages. No bear appears.

The bear wasn't giving off mastermind vibes anyway, was it.

"HEY, PSYCHIC BEAR'S BOSS! YEAH, I KNOW YOU EXIST! THERE CAN'T JUST BE A PSYCHIC BEAR! THERE'S A WHOLE THING HAPPENING, AND I PROMISE I DON'T CARE ABOUT IT, I JUST WANT TO HELP MY FRIEND! BUT I CAN'T! I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON! HELP ME AND I'LL PAY YOU BACK! I'LL FIND A WAY, I PROMISE!"

"I give good advice," she adds to herself, probably lost in the thunder. "You seem like maybe you could use it."

The thunder's getting a little quieter, though no less frequent; maybe the storm is moving?

Out of the corner of Sophie's eye there's a twinkle of red light, somehow distinct amid all the lightning flashes.

Is a faerie going to lead them to safety? Whatever it is, she'll take it.