Blind Leading the Blind

"When the chips are down and you're blinded on your feet,
You're standing up and walking but you know you are dead meat.
The sky is busting, it's near the break of day,
You're running out options running out of place.
The leaves are cracking, withered on the trees,
Beg you darling won’t you say a prayer for me"
Mick Jagger, Blind Leading the Blind

The reaction to that statement, or any statement involving the Eye of Balor has been pretty standard, falling into one of three categories.
"The what now?"
"That's just a myth."
"Why the fuck did you pick that up?"

Derrick's reaction, as I remember it, was a wise mixture of the latter two, followed by a statement that he had to see it to believe it.
We were happy to oblige, mostly in the hopes that it would get us a step closer to getting the damn thing off our hands. So much for that plan.
Oh, I completely forgot to even mention how the hell we even decided to go to the cliffs. So we have Caleb's journal, which Gunnar stole from Caleb's pockets while Nate was playing what was quite possibly the most important and most beautiful game of keep-away ever. In Caleb's journal, which is bound in human skin (ew), there was a map. It was a map of normal Ireland, with a bit of it circled in red. That was how Gunnar googled us a map over here, to the Cliffs of Moher.
We found out from Derrick that this is how one gets to Mag Mell. By jumping off the cliff. Yes, that cliff he'd just finished yelling about being so dangerous that we shouldn't be there at night, he told us to jump off of it. Then Gunnar did just that, carrying the Eye. No provocation needed. I can't remember if his feet had even left the ground before I started yelling, "Gods dammit Gunnar!" Not that it was ever meant to, but for the record, that has never phased him. No matter how loud or how often those words leave my mouth. I don't think I'd really have it any other way.

Derrick called him a crazy motherfucker, and everyone in the Band just nodded. Including Nevermore. "Yeah, he does that," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
We thanked Derrick (for not shooting me) and took our own leaps of faith. Rushing towards the dark waters, I kinda get it.

We leapt from a sunset and landed in daylight. There was greenery. Lush greenery, everywhere. Fruit as big as dinnerplates hanging from trees verdant and vibrant. And there was a unicorn. My immediate reaction was: Hell. Yes.
I've been asking for a vision of unicorns for weeks now. And this...
I mean, it wasn't a vision of a unicorn, it was better. It was an actual unicorn.
With some redheaded chick on it, surrounded by warrior dudes who'd had Gunnar at spearpoint. Aaaaand I'm officially over unicorns.

We made with the introductions and the spear chick, whose name was Cordelia, agreed to take us to the city proper where one of us would talk to Manannan Mac Lir. I recognized this place, too. I'd been here when Mac Lir whisked me away to... I'm still not really sure how to label what happened. I mean, he said thanks in that letter I got later but there was still a bit of "how dare you" and "you'd better fucking be serious" and I don't really think there's a word for that. I'll go with... gratithreat? No, periltude. That's a word now.

Anyway, yeah. Cordelia said only one of us got to go talk to Mac Lir, and asked who the leader was. Most of the Band got the look on their face like, "Not it," and Jack at first said "Laurel," then he said "Wait, no, she shoots people" (and OH THE FUCKING IRONY).
We finally settled on Nate. Nobody's died yet, so... so far so good. Well, none of the Band.
I'm not sure how the meetings went, but Nate walked into the palace (I guess that's what you call it, it was a very beautiful place) with the eye and came back without it. So, success? (Spoiler: not really). Manannan Mac Lir was blind now, by the way. That was a good sign. Only not.

We gave the warning of the impending siege. Gunnar and I went back to Dublin since we were both running on empty. Well, I think everyone was running on empty, but we were the only ones who wanted to go back and do anything about it. As soon as we set foot back in Ireland proper, Gunnar's phone rang.

Victor has Gunnar's mother.
Victor is probably going to die.