Golden Rook Ch. 55-60

Notes: 1) If you see this version of the story anywhere other than Literotica it isn't supposed to be there. 2) Because of shorter chapters, this is being posted in chunks.

*****

*Fifty-five*

Running her fingers over the familiar writing, Syreilla could feel Hammersworn's pride in the work. She hadn't only written down the suggestions she had for securing the mine and the treasure chambers, she'd painstakingly written down the wards and spells she knew as well. Anything that might be of service. The 'tomes' were relatively slim, having been bought as cheap blank ledgers and filled one after the other as she thought of things.

"I hadn't realized all of this was here." Orefinder pulled the book out from under her fingers. "Some of these are impressively nasty."

"No one crossed us twice." She gave the dwarf a small smile. "And we keep the ones we love safe. I don't know how it is now, but it used to be that no thief or bandit would even look at the goods coming in and out of this mine."

"My mother would pay them a visit if they did." Sirruil came to peek at the book and Orefinder closed it. "Batran said she was the best investment he'd ever made."

"She still feels that she got the better end of the deal." Syr took a deep breath and looked around the room using Hammersworn's faint memories to take an inventory, "What's missing?"

Both dwarves blinked and Sirruil put his circlet on and moved to the shelves. "There was something here and here... more..."

"Look for them."

He laughed, "They're on the table."

"All of them?"

Still smiling, he glanced around again and then his smile faded. The young dwarf started toward the door.

"Something has been taken?" Orefinder frowned.

"It hasn't gone far, I think." Syr followed the now scowling dwarves, dropping a few wards of holding behind her to secure the room.

As they left the treasure chambers she paused to drop a few more wards, mostly non-lethal, since they were leaving the doors open. Sirruil went straight for the chambers housing the forge stores. As she entered, Syr knew exactly what was in the book that had been removed.

Orefinder grabbed hold of Sirruil and yanked him back as the pair of dwarves huddling around a table shrieked and leapt back. The flame was small but it had reached out and grabbed hold of one dwarf's beard.

Ripping off her borrowed work jacket, Syreilla cast a ward of holding at the man's feet to stop him as he tried to run and used the heavy cloth and the tamping out spell to extinguish the flame, pulling from the reservoirs she could feel around them. Then she turned her attention to the table, extinguishing what was now a ravenous pillar of fire devouring it. As an afterthought, she released the dwarf and let him fall to the floor, moving to inspect the charred table. The powders and liquids they hadn't put away had caught, the steel bowl they'd used had melted and carried the flame with it, judging from the pattern in the char. Its remnants were now a part of the table. If the book had been there...

"I-I can't-it wasn't supposed to-" The second, unburned, dwarf was standing and staring at the damage in horror.

"Dragon's fire isn't something to make in secret, or sloppily." She gestured angrily to the table. "Clear surfaces, only as much of the ingredients as you need, a ceramic bowl, not steel-"

"Rook." Orefinder barked and got her attention. "Don't help them learn."

"It's a tool, Orefinder, one of my best and no one knows it like I do. If they're going to be stupid and try it on their own they need to do it carefully." She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. "If they do it carefully, they'll only kill themselves and not destroy the whole mine. The mage I learned it from insisted on precautions for exactly that reason. Apprentices can be replaced, your library can't. That there are homes, forges, and children here should make precautions even more important."

"My mother wrote a book on how to make it?" Sirruil came to stare at the table and reached out his hand to touch the ash on the still hot stone table, drawing his hand back quickly. "And it's gone?"

"I've been told that the art has nearly been lost. I'm not surprised she would have tried to preserve it. We always thought highly of dwarves." Syr gave the trembling, burned dwarf on the ground a frown, "She and I both expected them to be more careful about it."

"Any idiot should know not to put a book on the same surface if you're starting a fire!" Sirruil rounded on the dwarf standing nearby, "It was valuable and you destroyed it!"

"We didn't expect it to be so... a half-elf could make it, it shouldn't be..." He paled as he looked at the mirthless grin taking its place on Sirruil's face.

"You deserve to get burned if you think my mother-"

"That's enough." Orefinder stepped in and put his hand on the young dwarf's shoulder. "Syreilla Hammersworn was one of the sharpest women I've ever met. I'll make certain that no one who thinks otherwise has access to those books."

"I can rewrite it, Sirruil." Syr beckoned for him to come to her, "And if Master Aledelver will allow it, I can give a much safer demonstration to anyone who would like to watch. But she never wanted you to try it. Apprentices can be replaced, her children can't. It is, as she wrote in that book, dangerous and it must be done exactly. There is no room for error. If you fail to start a fire in your hearth you'll sit in the cold. If you make a mistake when mixing dragon's fire you're far more likely to kill or maim yourself than to ruin the ingredients with nothing to show for it."

He nodded and she led him to the still shaking dwarf on the ground. His beard was almost entirely burned away, the skin of his face and chest looked as if it might slough off if touched and the charred edges of his clothing stuck to the burns. "He's lucky. This isn't bad at all compared to what he could have gotten."

Kneeling, she held her hand out over him, mouthing the siphoning spell to draw the power to heal from the stone around her neck and slowly lowering it, murmuring the healing spell. He shuddered and sighed as she touched him. The dwarf's breathing became easier and he closed his eyes, a look of relief on his face.

As she finished, Orefinder came to inspect her work. "That's the healing spell in her tomes?"

"It should be. If anyone has tried to go into the treasure rooms you can try it out yourself. I laid a few wards, mostly non-lethal, behind us since we left the doors open."

He barked a laugh. "Will his beard grow back?"

Syr gently touched the dwarf's face, turning his head slightly. "Some of it may. But I doubt it'll grow like it did before."

"What do you think they did wrong?" He gave her a speculative look, "If you had to guess?"

"It wouldn't have turned into a pillar of flame that way if they hadn't been sloppy in leaving things too close and used the wrong bowl. But I would guess, since it surprised them, that they breathed on it. A single breath, or ripple on the surface, once it's mixed will wake it. And it wakes hungry."

"You make it sound alive." Sirruil offered his hand to help her from her kneeling position.

"If I didn't mix it myself I would swear that it is. Your mother mixed it for Grimgrip and it terrified him. It reached from its bowl the way Oduil reached from his cradle. Dragon's fire trips wards like a living thing, it finds a target when you pour it, and it will reach for you the moment it wakes. Did you feel the hunger coming off of the flames before I put them out?"

"Yes." The mostly beardless dwarf still seated on the ground shuddered. "It was going to devour me."

The unburned dwarf tried to explain, "We used steel because it seemed stronger than..."

She snorted and shook her head, "Steel melts. The ceramic bowls hold up better with the dragon's fire, I've never understood why but they do. You still don't want to hold them for long or let them sit close by. The flames will reach out for you. That should have been in the book."

"It was." The other dwarf came to help his friend. "We thought we... we thought it was an exaggeration."

"No. Dragon's fire needs no exaggeration." She grinned at them, "I breathe across it to wake it when I mix it. It makes it more potent and it's the most dangerous way there is to use it. No one knows it like I do."

"The Lady of smoke and flame." Sirruil gazed at her with awe.

"Why is there black smoke pouring out of the forge stores and souring the air in my mine?" Aledelver stormed into the stores with a scowl and pointed his finger at her, "Out. You gave your word and you-"

"It wasn't her!" Sirruil stepped in front of her, cutting him off, "She put it out!"

"And she healed young Master Ashbeard." Orefinder lifted his hands, "Two of the younger priests thought they could take Syreilla Hammersworn's tome on making dragon's fire and test her methods. But they didn't think highly of the woman as she was a half-elf and didn't pay attention to her warnings or follow her directions carefully. If not for Lady Rook they might have caused a great deal of damage to themselves and the mine."

"Where is the book now?"

"It was destroyed in the fire." Syr gestured toward the table. "I can replace it for you-"

"No. That's a kind offer, Lady Rook, and I apologize for accusing you," Aledelver gave the burned dwarf and his friend a sour look, "but dragon's fire has no place in a mine. They can pay restitution."

"I want the book to be replaced." Orefinder spoke up, giving her a small smile, "I'll take it to Bhiraldur and I intend to see her tomes of wards and spells taken there too. Some of those should be kept in a more secure place."

"I can secure the library. That isn't-"

Orefinder grinned at her, "You can, but no one will be able to get into it."

"That is what securing it means. Things go missing or get destroyed when they get handled."

He chuckled and shook his head before noticing the black look Aledelver was giving him. "We'll speak privately about the tomes, Master Aledelver."

"A woman's work stays in her home mine. If there are concerns we can separate some of the tomes and put them in a safer place, but they don't leave here." Aledelver folded his arms.

"Orefinder..." Syr gestured with her head back toward the treasure chambers. "Syreilla Hammersworn's things should stay here, but you and I have things to discuss, and I think I mentioned having things to offer? Why don't you discuss the tomes you want with me?" She gave Aledelver an impish smile, "I don't steal from dwarves but Hammersworn and I were once the same person and I've picked up a few more tricks I could write down along with those that she shared. Nothing will be taken from this collection, not more than has been," gesturing as she spoke with annoyance at the table and two chastised-looking dwarves. "You can rely on a Rook."

*Fifty-six*

Kwes turned the coin over in his hands, running his fingers over the two sigils. Syreilla's made him angry, but Odos' sigil... he didn't want to draw the old man into this if it wasn't necessary.

"He will be able to smooth the matter over, Riellion," Eludora spoke reassuringly.

"I hate that name. I go by Kwes."

"The elven goddess' name has come to mean beauty in their language. It angers you that when you were born your mortal father thought you were beautiful?"

"No... though I am angry with him."

The goddess came closer and ran her hands over his shoulders. "Odos' name means-"

He couldn't help but laugh, "I speak elvish. I know what it means. It always amused me."

"What does it mean?" Cyran's brow furrowed.

"Deceitful, untrustworthy, or cruel of jest, is probably how it's best translated. There are stories of him being too clever for the clever boy." Kwes grinned and then gave the baffled priest a pitying look. "They were good stories."

"Elven stories, your cousin is human." Eludora smiled. "Your father can be all of those things but he's also charming and reasonable. I need him to come and speak to the others. He's ignoring us."

The thought that he might not come if called was worse than the thought of dragging the old man into something and getting him in trouble. Kwes ran his fingers over the sigil again. He also didn't know if he could or should call the old man 'Father' to his face, they hadn't exactly discussed it, but calling him Odos when everyone else kept saying... He took a breath and tried the word on for size, "Father-"

Before he could say more, Odos was standing there in front of him. He broke into a relieved grin, "I'm sorry to bother you-"

"You're never a bother, my little magpie." Odos glanced at Eludora and a sly smile graced his face, "You're sour with me."

"You've been aiding your daughter. She's stolen three stones in three days and Silfeya wants these two executed to draw her out. I'm not pleased with your Syreilla but I understand her reasons. Silfeya wants her brought before your father and the stones returned."

"She doesn't need much aid from me, I lent her my door and a stone to put a little bit of power in..."

"That's a great deal of aid." A dark-haired woman in a lovely but old-fashioned loose dress stepped into the chamber from nowhere, scowling at all of them.

"Not so great. I didn't help her choose where or how to enter, I didn't provide her with direction or clear paths in your temples," as the angry goddess opened her mouth Odos lifted his hand, "I swear to you, Silfeya, she hasn't asked for my help with her thefts beyond needing my door. She used the power I had put in the stone well before the thefts and has been putting her own in."

"Isca said she was impressive." Silfeya folded her arms. "But I will not be stolen from."

"She isn't really stealing them, more like borrowing without permission. You'll get them back."

Eludora sighed. "She wants to help Hevtos free Zyulla and she's been told she'll be free as well if she can complete the task. Syreilla the Rook is volatile but reliable, I'm told, and she has compelling reasons to take the stones. Beyond offering Atos, the dwarves, and the elves a warning, I don't believe there's more we can do."

"She's more devious than her father, according to Isca. She used the draped mantle against us as effectively as she used the armor against Imos. I doubt Hevtos could keep her against her will."

"She entered his service with Vezar Edra and my little rook is bound by her word. I lent her my door because I want her back."

Silfeya glowered at him. "I want to hear all of this from her."

"I'll have it arranged. I'll pull her to my home when she next uses a door and you can speak to her there." Odos waved his hand as Silfeya began to speak a language that made his eyes want to cross and his ears feel as if they were running. "Not in front of the children. I wouldn't ask you to take your child to my home for a scolding and you can't ask me to do that either."

"I want to speak to her today." The angry goddess pointed her finger at Odos and the old man bowed with a grin.

"I'll see what I can do."

The dark-haired woman vanished and Odos gave Eludora a faint smile, "Thank you for looking after my son and my nephew."

"Your nephew is a delight, your son, however..."

Odos laughed, "He likes to keep me busy. Would you like a favor in-"

"The last time I accepted a favor from you I had to apologize to your father. No favors. I made the children pay for their room and board in service." Eludora looked as if she were trying not to smile as the old man grinned mischievously. "But I would like to meet Syreilla the Rook."

"I'll invite you."

"You may take them-"

"And their things?"

"And their things." Eludora waved her hand at someone and their clothing was brought.

Kwes took a moment to go over all of his kit and clothing before putting it on. When he turned, Cyran was already dressed.

"Tell me you're not still wearing that cursed armor."

"Blessed armor, and yes. It-"

"Your father will be watching you while you wear it."

"If he does he will see that Syreilla isn't evil and that I want to help him not to harm him."

"He'll also see you giving my daughter the glad eye." Odos looked the priest over with a frown. "I'm not sure why she tolerates it."

Cyran flushed and tugged at his jacket.

"They won't have kept your rooms in Lew but we can get your things from the dwarves and set up a camp near the mine. My little rook went back to speak to a friend of mine."

"I'm not going to wait for long." Kwes folded his arms. "I'm going home to Withia. If she wants to apologize she can find me there."

*Fifty-seven*

"I want you to lay some of those before you leave, Rook. I'll show you where."

"Why am I teaching them to you if not to let you lay them yourself?" Syreilla grinned at the vicious smile on Orefinder's face as she cleared the wards away, glancing at Sirruil as he slept nearby. "Uncle may start to think I've decided to move in but I think I can get at least a few weeks here before he starts to fuss."

Orefinder snorted. "Your father has been busy, Rook, he'll be expecting you to come out tomorrow or the day after."

That took the smile off of her face and the dwarf looked a little rueful, "I'll show you the ward you wanted to learn, it's a tricky one. How's your dwarvish?"

"It could be better. I don't speak it often." She folded her arms, "I wanted more time here. I haven't been home in so long and-"

"This isn't your home anymore, Rook. It was Syreilla Hammersworn's." Orefinder beckoned for her to follow. "You'll want walls or a frame for this one. The words and gestures are important, you cast it on the frame and toss it out like a net."

Nodding her understanding, she paid careful attention, putting her hurt aside for a moment.

"You'll want to stop playing with that..." The dwarf gave her an annoyed look and she realized she was toying with the gem and chain wrapped around her hand. "And come stand behind me."

Removing the gem from her hand as she did, once she was behind him she pulled the chain through the loop and pulled it over her head.

"I can hear you still playing with it, Rook."

"I'm putting it on differently. I'm paying attention."

He snorted and, muttering in dwarvish, cast the ward, his hands moving smoothly in a pattern before casting it out. "Did you catch that?"

Studying the ward now clinging to the walls in front of them she moved her hands as she thought he had. "Like that?"

Orefinder grinned and made the gestures again and she saw where she'd made a mistake, correcting them. He pulled down his ward and she stood for a moment trying to remember the sound of his words.

"You didn't catch the words." He grinned as she glanced back at him.

"I want to try something, I'm not sure if it will work but... do you mind?"

The dwarf gestured for her to go ahead.

Using the hand gestures he'd shown her she murmured her siphoning spell and cast it on the walls the same way he had. Like his own, it stuck to the walls and left an eerie silvery web of hungry threads. She grinned at it and then looked back at Orefinder. He looked a little ill.

"What? I did it right, didn't I?"

"That won't just pull from a stone or an object with power, Rook. That will draw from anyone or anything who blunders into it until there's nothing left to pull."

"How can I refine it? You were right when you said I didn't catch all of the words you spoke, but I got the gist of it. It's not too different from my siphoning spell. I can pull from anything I can feel. This may be a little dangerous to lay down and walk away from but I've liked the idea since I saw your ward."

Her grin started to fade as she noticed the nervousness in his eyes.

"Pick that up, Rook."

Turning back, she tried to dispel it and it flickered but didn't fully go. With a frown, she murmured her siphoning spell to draw from the power around them and did it again more forcefully. This time it faded to nothing. She walked to where it had been laid and touched the stone to be sure.