acrookedpath | [pfsb]

"She -- "

He stares.

"How?"

"Through a Gateway," Moiraine replies. "It is among the weaves known to Aes Sedai. You may think of it as creating a similarity between places, then opening a portal between them."

Her manner is serene and even utterly tranquil. "As I have mentioned before, Harrow and I spent some time working on methods of linking her thanergetic power with what she describes as my thalergetic weaves, which are of the One Power, drawn from the True Source, which is the force of creation itself. We were able to find a way to work together to reach the Ninth from here."

Wei Wuxian breathes out, quick and sharp.

His indignation has caught him off guard: you could do this all along? And after he gave her a teleporting talisman! But he should know by now: Moiraine will never speak a word of what she can do unless she deems it relevant.

(That is not even touching her work with Harrow. He had forgotten its specifics; he wonders, now, about its difficulty, its possibility for replication --

It's been a while since he has missed his friend quite this fiercely.)

With effort, he wrenches his thoughts back around to the blood ward, forcing himself to study it again.

He can read Wei Ying’s annoyance as clear as calligraphy. Lan Wangji places one hand against his back in silent support, then shoots a sharp look at Moiraine as she asks,

“Does this bother you?”

Wei Wuxian ignores her. Instead, he slants a tiny smile Lan Zhan's way -- I'm all right -- before returning to the ward.

"Even simplified," he says, "this is based on a ward strong enough to keep the Tomb closed for centuries. If it can only hold back the anomaly for a few weeks..."

"Ah," Moiraine murmurs, watching him, "but the Ninth's ward is powered by the entirety of Drearburh."

"True," he mutters. Carefully, he traces the lines of the ward, as if committing a talisman sketch to memory. "If there were a way to power it with less, but regenerate its power more frequently, it might work."

She considers them both, these two who are so alike and so different in their way, whose partnership is as clear as that between any Warder and Aes Sedai has ever been.

"Is that a skill you have?"

"I don't know." Still abstracted. "If spiritual energy could be drawn from the land and amplified, without depleting the land itself -- possibly. But it would not be indefinite."

He tilts his head, a sudden spark lighting his eye as the idea strikes.

"If resentful energy could be fueled into the ward from the anomaly itself, on the other hand..."

Moiraine frowns slightly. "Would not such a thing give that within the Lodge access to control of the ward?"

"Not necessarily." He spins toward Moiraine, starting to grin in spite of himself. "Spirits can be compelled -- resentful spirits even more so, because they respond so strongly to the most base emotions. If it could be tricked into feeding the ward, it could also be forced to continue feeding it, until such a point that it's too weak to resist at all, yes? Trapped in a loop of its own demise!"

"I did not realize that," the Aes Sedai murmurs. "What would happen after it became too weak to continue to exist?"

She glances at Lan Wangji to see what he makes of this, only to find him watching Wei Wuxian with silent intensity to his gaze.

"It might vanish on its own. Or it might still need formal elimination, which will be much easier with poisoned roots."

Wei Wuxian is practically vibrating with delight. A solution to the puzzle!

The Aes Sedai nods.

"And if it is too strong to be compelled so?"

"Well, then we will find a way to weaken it. Or think of another solution!"

Now that he's on a roll, he sounds entirely unbothered by either possibility.

"I see." In contrast, she sounds thoughtful, her words weighted.

"We must be certain, Wei Wuxian. If we draw this entity from the pool and fail to contain it, the consequences may be dire indeed."

That squashes a little of his good mood; he wrinkles his nose, briefly, before loosing another sigh.

"Moiraine, I have no intention of making the situation worse," he says. "I'll be able to judge the strength of the anomaly without freeing it -- well before we begin our work in earnest. It is not a difficult thing."

"I understand that you do not," she returns, unruffled by his annoyance. "I ask because to test the strength of a spirit or demon directly, such as that one, is not a skill that I myself have, precisely."

Without missing a beat or changing her tone at all, she concludes, "And I was not successful when I confronted him the first time. I would not wish to fail again."

There's a flash of surprise -- you confronted him? -- before he remembers: yes, she mentioned she'd met a person who had been possessed by the entity from the Black Lodge.

Wei Wuxian nods. "This would be more like observing a beast from afar," he says, "until we know we can overpower it. Not wrestling a tiger as soon as it appears. And if it's as strong and malevolent as it sounds, it may even be possible to siphon small amounts of resentful energy without it even noticing. Like one of us would ignore a single hair fallen from our heads."

"It is certainly malevolent," she agrees. "And I do not know how many entities lie within the pool, or even for certain if they themselves have been altered in some way. I have studied this one in more depth recently, given matters as they now stand, if it is useful to know his history."

He lifts his eyebrows, intrigued. "It would, yes."

Moiraine, sharing information freely? Perhaps they've become allies after all!

She gestures toward the sofa, inviting the two of them to make themselves comfortable if they wish.

"It is still not entirely certain," she warns. "The history is at times confused, and at other times contradictory. But what seems known is that one of the strongest spirits in the Black Lodge was formerly a killer known as Bob who preyed on women, assaulting and murdering them, prior to his death. What is not clear is whether or not the man who did these things was himself possessed by the spirit, or whether the spirit originated there with his death."

He glances to Lan Zhan, still standing silent and impassive, and essays a tiny smile before settling on the couch.

"If the Black Lodge is centuries old, it would make sense for its most powerful entity to be centuries old as well," he says. Tapping the side of his nose in thought, "How early in its history is Bob called by that name?"

She favors Lan Wangji with a patient, mildly exasperated look, and spins a quick weave to move the chair from her desk to the other side of the coffee table so that she will be seated across from them, then leaves it up to him whether to sit or not.

"That is one of the reasons it is not clear," Moiraine says. "A few decades only. Perhaps thirty years, maybe half a century. Perhaps."

He looks to Lan Zhan again, reassuring: it's all right.

"I'm inclined to believe it was a case of possession, then. Especially if you've seen it possess others more recently." A crooked grin. "Demons themselves don't often choose a name like 'Bob,' eh?"

Even accounting for language differences, it is a very silly name.

"And besides, it takes far more than half a century to amass the power you described." He stops; reconsiders. "Unless it grew stronger just from its proximity to the Black Lodge. Which it could. Hm."

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