Golden Rook Ch. 16-24

"You didn't know about Hammersworn before you came back from serving Hevtos, you're lying about speaking to any of the dead." He wheezed a laugh.

"I knew she was dead, I didn't know how, that's true. She had no memory of her death. Uncle Imos told me that part and said he was going to see justice done for her. But something doesn't sit right about it. You would have to have known I would find out eventually. And you'd end up-"

"I'm beyond Hevtos' reach!" Messus began to cackle and wheeze. "Imos saw to that."

"Uncle Imos doesn't have that power."

"I have his word-"

"He hired you? He wanted her dead?" She took another step forward and he glanced at the window again as if expecting something. "Is your assassin hoping to get a shot at me?"

A hair-raising scream from a nearby building made her pause.

"I somehow doubt she's-"

"Syreilla Acharnion I bind you to my will!" He produced the lump of metal she'd last seen being wielded by Olthon, and brandished it at her, moving it in a complicated pattern.

Laughing, she waved her hand, "How is Olthon? I never bothered to ask what happened to the old elf after Hammersworn and I parted ways. You won't be able to grip me with that, Messus. That wasn't meant for me, I was never the focus." Coming forward she knocked it out of his hand and caught it, looking it over before putting the metal in her pocket. It still hummed with power. "So much fuss for something so small."

The mage paled, "We have Riellion Fethurin."

"The Magpie will be fine. Master Odos will see to it, I'm sure. I want to talk about my Uncle and what he asked you to do, as well as what he promised-"

In a fit of desperation, Messus lashed out, landing a blow with a contact spell that burned. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed hold of the mage as he tried to rush past and pulled open the door to the threshold of Hevtos' realm, yanking the man off balance and giving him a kick as he tumbled through it. Syr stepped through as her face started to peel and feel as if it were going to come off of her skull.

"What is-" In the blink of an eye, relief washed over her and the pain vanished. Hevtos stood with his hand raised and a scowl on his face.

"You cannot be so angry with her if you heal her." Imos stood across from Hevtos with an almost smug smile, "I suspected-"

"We are going to have words, Uncle." Syr cut him off and kicked the groveling Messus as he trembled on the ground.

*Twenty*

Lies! It had to be lies! Cyran made his way as quickly as he could toward the temple, it grew harder the closer he got, having to battle through fleeing throngs. The sight of Antien fleeing in terror as well gave him pause. He managed to catch the man and push him out of the flow of people into an alleyway.

"Antien-"

"Hevtos' Golden Rook! She laid waste to the temple and the Divinity couldn't stop her! She slew Garrym and Jenlan as if they were nothing, their flesh melted from their bones!" The man stopped to vomit and stood trembling for a moment. "She said the divinity is a hypocrite and a liar, any priest who ran and chose to take up with any other god instead would be spared. We all ran, all that were left. And then-then the temple began to burn. It isn't a fire like a hearth fire, Cyran... this..."

"She's using dragon's fire."

The crush of people had mostly passed and he began running toward the temple. The flames roared, reaching to the sky, reaching to the buildings on every side. Heat and hunger radiated from the brilliant shimmering fire consuming the temple, this flame felt alive with the intent to destroy and consume.

The great doors of the Temple of Mabor, doors that he was almost certain hadn't been opened in a lifetime at least, groaned open and the Rook stalked out. She took in the sight of the flames, raising her hand with what looked like a mutter and a sharp gesture and they were dampened and nearly extinguished as the building crumbled, falling in. The monstrous woman began to laugh, doing it again and the flames died.

She turned and said something to the priest of Mabor in the doorway with a bow. To his horror, she was presented with the crown. Cyran watched as she stripped the jewel from it and tossed it back as if it were a worthless trinket.

The Rook vanished and then reappeared in front of him a moment later, grinning maliciously.

"I've finished my errands. Are you still here for an education?"

He stared. "You..."

"Uncle and I quarreled. I'm more than willing to explain to you the lies he's told, the injustices he's done and allows-"

"That's enough, Rook." Odos' voice came from behind him. "Your cousin's had a hard day and he protected you as he was sent to do."

The fact that Odos had called him nephew and was now calling him the Rook's cousin was slowly sinking in. He felt a little woozy and found himself seated on the cobbles. The Rook crouched in front of him with what might have been a look of concern.

"I've still got a lot of work to do and it's not going to get easier. I'll give him what I promised if he wants it but I understand if he needs some time to recover. Hammersworn and I were always good at accepting things and moving on quickly but being... it's something that takes a moment."

"You knew you were exceptional, my little rook, and Cyran knew the same." Odos sounded amused.

"There's a difference, old man, in being proud of your skill, believing you've become the best... Learning it isn't because of something you've done but because your parents aren't exactly who or what you thought is jarring." She was giving the Divinity a sour look and Cyran summoned his wits.

"Does it-does it give you free rein to murder?"

"I gave them a choice, Cyran, was it? I almost always do."

"You could have destroyed the city," the half-elf who had followed Odos spoke and his voice was timid. He stopped when the Rook looked at him with a small smile.

"I didn't."

"That fire was..." Cyran felt the righteous anger stirring within himself, "You spoke of injustices, what of all you have done?!"

"I don't pretend to be a shining beacon of goodness." The Rook stood and looked down at him coolly but offered her hand, "And burning the temple wasn't justice, that was revenge. Justice without mercy isn't just, I don't pretend it is."

Her words and gesture put out his anger as quickly as they'd put out the temple fire. He buried his face in his hands and remained sitting, trying to make sense of things. Cyran shuddered as he felt the Rook place her hand on his head.

"Until you decide otherwise, you're mine. You were sent to me and I'll look after you as best I can. My quarrel with Uncle has nothing to do with you until you say it does."

"You didn't tell him you would wipe his priests from the land of the living?" Odos sounded amused but Cyran looked up to the Rook's mirthlessly grinning face with dread.

"I didn't, Master Odos. I'm a thief, not an assassin. I don't want to kill them, but I'll steal his place and give it to someone who'll do his job as he should've. He was meant to be the god of justice and righteousness, he's supposed to put things right."

"Putting things right would be punishing you." Cyran felt suddenly uncertain.

"Mercy alone isn't just either." She offered her hand again. "Thieves don't like to be punished, but we understand that's the way of things if we get caught. Justice in general is something the world needs more of. But I've never seen it given out as it ought to be in life and I'll settle for revenge."

Accepting her hand, he let her help him to his feet. For a moment he studied her face. "I expected you to be evil."

She broke into a broad grin, "I'm not nice, cousin, and I'm known for being unpleasant and bad-tempered, but I'm not quite nasty enough to qualify as evil." The Rook glanced around, "People will be coming back soon. Let's go get the rest of my things and maybe get you some fresh clothes and rest."

"If you can..." Cyran frowned; he was certain she'd vanished and reappeared. "You were over there and then..."

"Are you asking to walk across Uncle Hevtos' doorstep to go from here to there? I'm sure he'd enjoy meeting you but..."

"No." He could feel the blood draining from his face.

"Good. I'm not supposed to be doing that myself, but telling me no almost guarantees I'll do it again." She grinned at him impishly and he felt the urge to laugh, not because it was funny but because she looked so childlike while saying something so insane.

"You stole from him and then walked across his doorstep?" Kwes was staring at her with an incredulous expression.

The Rook shrugged and then folded her arms, "What is it you need from Tirnel, Magpie? I still have enough of my ingredients to burn his house down on our way out."

"No! No, that's," the half-elf held up his hands, "I just wanted a painting of my mother and a box she kept, things that I was supposed to inherit years ago but I allowed him to keep because I didn't have a place for them. He refuses to give them to me now unless I come back and stop embarrassing him. I don't need to burn down his house."

"No one needs to burn a house down, Magpie. You do it because it's fun! The offer is open."

Cyran tried to stifle the mad hysterical laughter that wanted to bubble up at the woman's disappointed but still hopeful expression as Kwes hid his face.

"No. I'm certain. Thank you."

"Your Magpie is no fun, Master Odos."

The Rook sighed and headed away from the ruins of the burned temple as if she had all the surety he felt when Imos guided his steps.

Odos put a hand on his shoulder, "You've done well."

"I feel as if I'm going mad..."

"My rooks have always had that effect on people." He was smiling faintly when Cyran turned to look at him. "They're the rarest of my... little birds."

"May all the gods be thanked."

*Twenty-one*

"Imos." Hevtos stepped out from his threshold cautiously. "Why have you come?"

"What do you have that Syreilla could steal?" His nephew looked smug. "I spoke with her. You and my brother have been making plans and I suspect she's just a distraction. She didn't steal from me, but he never made such a promise."

"I have made no plans with Odos." He scowled and remembered the Rook's lie about the shard. "I have a large realm to maintain, do you believe I do it without storing any of my power? My brother has denied me-"

"I do, you never needed such a thing-"

"Imos. I wanted a word with you." Odos appeared with a scowl. "You've been chasing my fledglings."

"They're wasted on you. Your fledglings have a great deal of promise and you turn them all into thieves and wastrels! I can make them into something greater."

"You'd crush them. They need kindness and gentle treatment."

"Something you denied to my Golden Rook." Hevtos gave him a stern frown, "You allowed her to be harmed."

"I was absent. I leave them to their mothers as young children but since my Rook, I've started looking in on them more." He inclined his head slightly.

"That does not absolve you. Children should be protected."

"Your Golden Rook." Imos folded his arms, "I suspected she still served you. Give me back my stone or I'll hunt her into the ground as I hunt all of your priests and worshippers. She lacks the power to protect herself and you have none to spare for her."

"She loves you and trusts you, brother." Odos' eyes hardened.

"Drive her back to me and I will give her what she has earned. She has a great deal to atone for as well." Hevtos smiled faintly. "She did not steal it from you, but she delivered your stone to me."

"If she didn't steal it, how did she get it?" Imos turned to glare at his brother.

"Didn't you hear her say she knows some of your priests would murder their own mothers for the right price? She knew who to pay to get it. My little rook is clever enough to get around her promises."

"I don't believe you. You're clever, brother, but I've learned to see through your misdirections. You're using her, both of you. If you align yourself with him I will do to you what I've done to him without hesitation. Most despise you, anyway."

"Father won't allow you to and I've made no plans with, nor have I made an alliance with our uncle."

"My White Hand will find the truth. I have sent the best of them to observe her. I will know who she serves soon and if she serves our uncle I will crush your little rook."

Odos stepped back with a scowl and vanished.

"She is your niece."

"She is a thief and a liar. If my brother hadn't ruined her she could have been so much more."

"My Golden Rook is impressive but she is restless, she has spent decades railing against her confinement and roaming my halls without permission. Drive her back to me and she will have no choice but to accept her confinement."

"She escaped and you want her returned?" Imos studied him carefully.

"Her skills are beyond compare. I want her service, but I require her to be more obedient."

"She delivered my stone to you... Why, if not some alliance between you and my brother?"

"She asked for permission to call upon Vezar Edra. They are... attached."

It was difficult not to show his smugness at his nephew's consternation. It was clear Imos was trying to decide if the half-truths could be trusted.

"I tried to salvage Vezar and failed. Hammersworn... If you give my stone back to me I will try again with the Rook. I will hunt her and crush her otherwise."

"Drive her back to me and she will serve once more."

"You care nothing for her?" Imos studied him coolly.

"I care for the tasks I set her to."

His nephew's attention was pulled away. It was rude to remain here, an unwelcome and uninvited guest, occupying this realm as he dealt with something else but Hevtos had come to expect nothing less. He waited impatiently but kept his outward demeanor impassive and imperturbable.

The door was pulled open and a man was shoved through, falling to his knees, followed by a figure with a blistering and peeling face. "What is-" The moment he realized it was Syreilla, he lifted his hand and dispersed the spell. Healing the worsening wound with intent didn't require a word to be spoken on his doorstep though the cost was greater than if he had taken her inside.

"You cannot be so angry with her if you heal her." His nephew smiled smugly, "I suspected-"

"We are going to have words, Uncle." The furious half-elf cut him off and kicked the man groveling before her. "You had Syreilla Hammersworn murdered. YOU told her murderers they'd be out of Uncle Hevtos' reach, and mine. No matter how angry Uncle Hevtos may get with me he wouldn't harm me or try to murder me. And, I suspect, he'll see justice done for Hammersworn and not lie to my face!"

"I did not lie. I would see justice done." Imos glared at the tattooed man. "I used this wretched creature as a tool for justice."

"But why? Why would you kill someone who loved you and trusted you? Your own-"

"She was only the mortal half of my brother's child, not the divine, and I pleaded with her to cease her thieving. She could have been more but she made it clear that she was unsalvageable. It was wrong to allow her to continue living to continue enjoying the fruits of her misdeeds but I knew she would receive her just punishment in death. When she began asking about being released to the dwarven gods in death I knew that she was seeking a way out of even that. It had to be done."

The look of hurt and betrayal on Syreilla's face made his heart ache and he nearly opened his mouth to console her but her eyes hardened in an instant and a look he remembered well from his brother's face took its place.

"If there is a way to kill a god, Uncle, you should hope I never find it." Her voice was as calm as the stillness after a man's last breath. "Hope that I will content myself with the burning of your temples and silencing your name on men's lips."

"I once said that to my Uncle." Imos smiled faintly, "I failed, as will you."

"No, Uncle. You were meant to be the god of justice, of righteousness. The god they turn to put things right. Why should they believe in you if you don't do what you're supposed to do? If you aren't what you were meant to be?"

Hevtos saw the flame in her eyes, so like his brother's as she spoke.

"The god of death has never shirked his duty. His hand is felt and they believe even if they've been taught to fear his name. The more you protested that he was evil, that he was monstrous, that he punished and was cruel? The more you told them that he was there and he was always going to be there no matter if his name was spoken or not.

"I'm going to burn your temples Uncle and I'm going to give them something else to believe in. I will find a replacement for you and those who remember you will remember you as a god of hypocrisy and failure. Your fat priests and thin, hungry parishioners will be what they remember and they will be glad that you are gone."

Imos must have seen it as well. He left without a word.

"My Golden Rook..." Hevtos wondered if she knew what she was doing. "You can only burn his temples if his priests are dead or if those within forsake him. There are rules."

"Can I walk in and terrify them?"

"That is how it used to be done. Come here for a moment?" The thought of his Golden Rook striking fear in the hearts of Imos' priests made him wish he could go with her, but, noticing the gem wrapped around her hand, perhaps he could offer some small help.

"Uncle?" Syreilla trotted over with a trusting, slightly baffled look on her face.

He touched the stone with a smile, putting what he could spare into it, "Odos should lend you more than this, send him to speak with me." He would have his nephew give more to the girl as atonement. "I will lend you some of my strength if you should need it. Be wary, the power you draw from is limited, you're not as vulnerable as a mortal but you can be harmed and forced back to me."

"I have this, Uncle. I can pull power from it." She took out a lump of metal that radiated a sticky, malicious energy. "It was what Olthon intended to use to kill Vezar. That mage tried to use it against me."

Hevtos took it from her, feeling its purpose, to ensnare and enslave, not to slay. "If he had known how to use it properly... this is a dangerous thing. Too dangerous for you to take back with you."

"Then keep it, Uncle. It's why I wanted you to keep Vezar back. I didn't want to risk him."

He touched her cheek tenderly and earned a warm smile. For an instant, she was someone else. The sweet, gentle girl was gone in a blink, and in front of him stood the Rook with all her mischief and deceit.

"I should go, I have a temple to burn and I think I can get another stone without stealing it. The temples in Withia are close together... I'll need to put out the fire so that the city doesn't burn and I think I can con the god of wine, women, and song's priests into paying me to do it."

"If Odos believes I will ever return you, he is a fool."

She grinned and vanished through the door. Smiling after her, he looked down at the one she'd called a mage. The tattoos on his skin were intended to be wards. He'd expected to be protected on his death, his last breath would have activated them.

"My Golden Rook saved herself the labor of bringing you later. I have a place for you." Tilting the man's face up, he saw his name and spoke it, "Igron Edali it is time for you to receive all you have earned in life." Hevtos touched the piece of metal to the mage's forehead and loosed the power, burning the body away until the metal was empty and useless and only a specter knelt in the ash in front of him.

The shade rose and went inside without resistance.

*Twenty-two*

Time hadn't been kind to Zyulla's temple. Vezar ran his hand lightly across the top of a broken column as he watched the two half-elf children running and laughing in what might have once been a garden for reflection. It was overgrown but it didn't slow them, they moved like Syreilla, with all the grace of elves.