The Trials & Tribulations of One Victor Freestone

In which

Ireland insists on itself

Calais, France

November 6th, 1875

Mr. Freestone,

I’ve heard starling news from Hicks. Your wizard struggles ended rather explosively. The news pointedly avoided mentioning the presence of any Negroes, so I had poor Hicks trying to confirm you hadn’t died. Luckily, the NMI has strong ties in New York and someone owed him a favor. Very brave show. Very risky too. The last thing you want is attention right now. Don’t do it again.

I suppose I’m not setting a good example. We did complete the second transplant. We found our thumbsucking friend amidst his fellow warriors, all asleep, and his two hunting hounds. Once he was outfitted with a new adrenal gland to ensure he stays awake and endured a few days of our expedition’s questions, he listened to Liam’s description of the current state of Irish politics. I do not know the end-result of their conversation; I was busy getting the drudges out of the distillery and everything back onto the ship. But every time we’ve made port in Ireland since then, there’s been news of a series of mysterious assaults on the homes of members of Dublin Castle. Spearheads, dog bites, arrows. The connection is easy to draw. The last I heard, I heard that one had been kidnapped and executed in Phoenix Park - the Under-Secretary of Ireland, I believe. Calling it another Fenian revolt would be underselling it; I think he’s running a full-fledged insurgency against the English government in the name of Irish independence. I’m dreading the moment he publicly reveals himself and people start asking questions about where he came from.

Suffice to say we left Ireland as quickly as possible after hearing about the beheading, and are currently hiding out on the Continent. Out of the two options Liam gave us, I expected Home Rule initiatives. But our thumbsucking friend was a hunter-warrior and hero-king as much as he was a man of wisdom; I should have expected this outcome. Your father, of course, bet on this happening and this, along with your survival, has finally put him in a good mood. All these years and I still find myself surprised at how unusual his thought-processes are. He’s so much more comfortable in confusion and uncertainty - except when it comes to you and your mother. He at least realized I was upset and tried to cheer me up with some bottles he smuggled away from the distillery. It was comfort enough, I suppose.

On to business. The thumbsucker giant is a true marvel. He was fascinated by our queries and even wrote down his own notes on how his arm was replaced for you. I suppose that one thinks better after an overlong nap than eons of torment by a hawk. We spent a few days conferencing between him and our former patient to the South, running their conversation across the telegraph lines. The Behemoth of Rhodes is doing much better now, especially after fending off the dreaded bird, and he was eager to meet a peer in age and intellect. The thumbsucker agreed with Leonard’s theory on refractive history, that being the best explanation for the state of the behemoth’s mountain, and the two of them spent a few days theorizing on where we might be able to break through and how. They agree the best location to try would be in Central America, but the exact spot is on the Yucatan Peninsula. I don’t need to tell you that we cannot risk causing a diplomatic incident with the Republic of New Mayapán. Next was East Africa, but Leonard ruled that out decades ago. The Anak route can’t be used by more than one person at a time, you and your mother would be the only ones qualified, and I doubt either of you can make that journey on foot. Our best hope remains the Deluge, as I expected, but the problem there is how to break through. Thanks to both of the giants, my understanding of the base theory is far more complete, but we need technical help now, from someone who truly knows the sea.

On the thumbsucker’s recommendation, we’re heading northeast. The Vikings were skilled masters of the open sea, and they had their fair share of giants. If that fails, we’ve been given ten tertiary locations to rely on, two of them back in the United States. I’m excited. I think this is the first time I’ve truly been excited. All this time I’ve been too busy handling the logistics but the end actually feels in sight. We’re going to go back. All the way back to the beginning. I’ll get to see his dream through even if he can’t.

Good luck with things on your end. I’m sure you already know, but there was a note in the case file Hicks saw about you. They suspect you’re up to something. Hicks will send this letter with a bonded courier we can trust; I’m sure they’ll be watching what mail you receive, but we can keep them from reading it without us knowing.

Onwards to the end,

Dr. Theodore Birch

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