Golden Rook Ch. 68-75

Warily, she made her way around the table until she was standing next to Odos.

"You provoked me and stole from me and you believe my justified anger is proof I bear no love for you." He lifted his hand and crooked a finger for her to come closer. "You are mistaken. I am your grandfather, no matter what you've done. I would have you understand."

Syr stepped forward and he took hold of her face, pressing the eye back into place. She shuddered and blinked. For a moment it was too bright as if she were wearing the circlet or the stone Odos had lent and then it became more normal. Looking at Atos, however, he looked anything but. The god had a flickering corona of pale flame surrounding him.

"This belongs to you. I am still angry with you, Syreilla, and I will be, but you are loved. I would have you call me Grandfather, despite our quarrels."

Tilting her head she studied him carefully, taking note of the way that one eye now saw things differently than the other. He was angry, she could see it, but he was hurt and he did care.

"I can do that, Grandfather."

"Why did you steal from me? Your father says you weren't intended to."

"I upset a friend. To help him I needed to give back one of the stones I'd borrowed, and-"

"Stolen."

"They'll get them back eventually. Probably." She glanced at Hevtos who was smiling faintly. "I could either collect all of the stones and leave my friend in a bad position or I could go get yours."

"How did you know where I kept it?" He scowled.

"You're not as clever as you think, Grandfather. How many towers had a giant crystal dome? It looked like the most likely place and once I came close enough I could feel the stone inside."

His left eye twitched.

"Master Odos' eye does that sometimes too." She gave him an impish grin.

"Usually when you've done something clever that I want to scold you for but I can't quite bring myself to." Odos sighed.

"How do you not shake the child until her skull rattles?"

"When I've really annoyed him he says I take after you." Syr put on a wide smile as one of her uncles stifled a laugh.

Atos looked unamused.

"My Golden Rook..." Hevtos was still smiling faintly as she trotted back to his side, taking note of the peculiar emanation of darkness like a night sky around him. "I love her dearly but she tends to provoke."

"She and I stole Zhetrahmihethrah's stone from the treasury in Vreya, Uncle." Odos sounded amused, "I'll buy her out of your service if you'll let me."

"The stone isn't yours to bargain with." Hevtos fixed him with a displeased look and Syr turned to tilt her head at him.

"I'm free to come and go as I please, Master Odos. I choose to stay with Uncle as long as I can do that. I enjoy having tasks and he suggested I might be set to hunting down and stealing back as many of my uncles' treasures as I can find. You can give Uncle Zhetra his stone back or I can come get it." She gave him a wide smile, "I do still owe you for making the Magpie so upset with me. I might browse your library while I'm there."

He laughed and folded his arms, the air around him shimmering like a mirage. "I would enjoy seeing you try. My home has cleverer traps than Isca's temple, little rook." Odos waved his hand as Zhetrahmihethrah stepped forward "I'll bring it to you, brother. I don't like to part with things unless I can get something for them and I cherish that stone egg for the memory of stealing it with my daughter."

"Why did you keep it from me?" Zhetrahmihethrah frowned. "You could have returned it."

"When you had your stone you returned to the land of the living. I never liked seeing you hunted and harmed. I kept it and you safe."

The dragons both gave him sour looks.

"We should discuss the matter at hand." Atos lifted his hand and chairs appeared. "Your sons and mine can leave, Hevtos, as can Syreilla. Cyran will remain to observe."

"If you bring Uncle Zhetra's stone, you can come in and sit with us, old man." Syr offered an impish grin as Odos laughed and waved his hand.

"I'll meet you at the doorstep."

*Seventy*

Cyran rested his hand on Atos' arm, "Grandfather, would the answer to those questions bring you less pain?"

Atos' jaw clenched and then he drew a breath exhaling slowly, "No. I loved Zyulla and she..."

"Uncle Odos tried to explain something to me." Cyran glanced at Zyulla as she sat with her head bowed. "He said that you and Uncle Hevtos were once the same god. As Syreilla was once Syreilla Hammersworn."

"Syreilla Acharnion." Hevtos corrected quietly. "She became Syreilla Hammersworn and Syreilla the Rook as my brother and I became Atos and Hevtos. Once, we also had another name."

"She doesn't speak of that name." Cyran smiled wryly but before he could continue his point Atos breathed a laugh.

"Nor do we." Looking him in the eye, Atos placed a hand over top of his. "You wish to say that perhaps what she did was not so wrong because we were once the same? It is worse than if she had chosen someone else entirely, child. She loves something that I once was and that I am no longer."

"Syreilla Hammersworn and Syreilla the Rook were not so different." Cyran shook his head, "I was told that Hammersworn was softer, less volatile, and a little slower than the Rook, but she was also known for her temper and her skill as a thief. There may have been things that one had and the other didn't but there were things they still shared."

"Yes." Zyulla sighed. "It was not your fault, Atos, but when you stepped away from us to take a joint place among the elven gods I felt alone. Your brother has all of your good qualities." She looked up with a sad, tired expression on her face, "You have different faults, but you share the same beauty. I loved you still, but I came to love him as well."

"It still wounds me."

"I am sorry for wounding you."

"Why were you spending time with my brother if you felt alone and not one of the other goddesses?"

Cyran considered trying to stop the questions about the past again but perhaps his grandfather did need to know.

"I sought her out. I was envious of you, you accused me of it and it was true. You had so much that you could walk away from it without a thought. But I was also alone." Hevtos folded his hands and leaned on them. "When I saw her loneliness, I offered my company. It gave me the peace I try to give to the deserving dead. My love for her grew too great to contain."

"No one..." Atos' hands curled into fists, "No one encouraged you? No one aided you in seducing my wife?"

"I was not seduced." Zyulla shook her head. "I came to love him as well for all the reasons I loved you."

Hevtos frowned and leaned back from the table meeting his brother's gaze. "Rielle told me of Zyulla's loneliness. She told me that she believed I was the better brother and it was baffling to her that I was so alone. I have come to doubt her reasons for offering kindness and friendship to me. She tried to seduce my grandchild to wound Syreilla. Rielle did not succeed in her seduction but Syreilla was wounded just the same."

"Sweet Syreilla is a goddess of vengeance?" Zyulla frowned slightly.

"She is the goddess of righteous vengeance and a protector of gentle souls. I allow her to intercede on behalf of those who come to me with her name on their lips. I've noticed that she sees things differently. Hers will be weighed by a different measure."

"Uncle Odos said that all of his Rooks saw things strangely."

"She saw your grandchild's desire for Rielle."

"I believe she saw more than that. She wished to bathe Rielle in dragon's fire and her loathing for her is immense."

"Why didn't she?" Atos' brow furrowed. "My rage boiled my blood and I could contain none of my fury when I learned of your betrayal."

"She had her task and she prides herself on never failing. Syreilla the Rook held her fury as well as she could until she delivered the stone to me. When she had the opportunity to indulge her desire to pour her rage out onto the goddess, Finwion prevented her and sent her to where you caught her."

"Perhaps I can forgive her for pushing me so forcefully. It may have been the goddess she wished to punish. When she made her fury felt, I thought it was unwarranted." Atos' eyes flickered with flame. "It was Rielle who told me of your betrayal and sent me to see for myself."

Zyulla looked stunned, "Hevtos told me that she kept you occupied after our sons were conceived so that I would not have to lie to you. We were all manipulated."

"So it would seem." Atos scowled into the middle distance, "I will discover why. Syreilla has not yet grown into her gifts fully but, with her new eye, she will see more clearly than she ever has. I will have her tell me what it is she sees when she looks at Rielle."

"She and I share a..." Cyran frowned and cleared his throat, "a disdain for... brothels. Vezar explained the place that this elven goddess keeps."

"Her disdain may color her view if I ask her directly." Atos inclined his head. "I will find a way. I may not be as clever as I thought but I am more clever than she thinks me."

A laugh escaped from Zyulla, "She was such a sweet, gentle girl when she spoke to me."

"She's that way with children." Cyran glanced at Atos with amusement and saw the speculative look on his face.

"The innocent. She is sweet and gentle with the innocent." Hevtos smiled faintly. "The child has your temper, without question, with those who have done anything to deserve it."

"Has my granddaughter turned her anger on you?" A smug smile played at the corners of Atos' mouth.

"She has. I tried to keep her confined to a single chamber."

Atos folded his arms and the smug smile came out fully, "You could not succeed."

"No. She only remained in the chamber when my grandchild was with her."

"Ha! Odos said the only way to keep her confined is to hold onto her yourself."

"She has your determination." Zyulla smiled ruefully, "While I am grateful that her efforts may have freed me, we should encourage her not to put that tremendous will toward theft."

"I will not return the stones until you are freed, Zyulla, and I will send her for the rest if I must. My Golden Rook will have the elven gods trembling in fear as they wait for her coming."

"My cousin is formidable, they would be wiser to give them to you."

"She impressed Nimphon. He has a new vessel to cross his black waters because she brought him a boat of stone," Hevtos tone was approving.

"What friend did the child upset so greatly she needed to steal from me to put it right?" His grandfather's brow furrowed.

"Finwion. He was kind to her and when she lashed out-"

"They wanted him punished."

"She told him to say that she deceived him and to place all the blame on her shoulders; she would return the stone lent by Bone White and allow him to say he stole it back from her. The stone was returned when Nimphon requested it to be, it was the punishment for Syreilla's behavior, but I believe he's fond of her. Finwion certainly is."

Atos chuckled and nodded. "The others play politics amongst themselves but Nimphon has the most power of all of them. Finwion is under his protection and if he requires punishment it will be meted out by Nimphon. They do exclude them both often. I don't understand why Nimphon allows it."

"If he disagrees with their decisions, he overrules them. Like a father overruling a group of children who have decided there will be mead cakes for dinner."

Both gods smiled at one another and Cyran began to wonder if his presence was necessary. Zyulla gave him a warm smile as soon as he had the thought.

"As a god of mediation your presence makes such matters easier, son of Imos. I am so pleased that my most rigid son has a child who strives to be understanding."

"I've been learning a great deal since I was sent to Syreilla to learn from her."

"Your father believes you wish to replace him." Atos shook his head. "After we finish our discussions I will take you to speak to him. And I would have you speak to Syreilla, Odos has asked her to call him 'Father' and she refuses."

"He wounded the child by abandoning her. She needs to be loved and looked after."

"Allow him to do it." Atos scowled at Hevtos and the room felt cooler as the god of death returned it.

Cyran intervened carefully, "I will speak with her. She loves him but he has not been trustworthy."

"She is a goddess of vengeance, not forgiveness." Hevtos inclined his head, "It would do her good to learn a little, she takes after you in that as well, brother."

"I want the child to visit me."

"She is free to come and go as she pleases. I will have tasks for her, she is not content without purpose, but I will not prevent her or discourage her from visiting you."

"I will prepare a room for her with enough gold to entice a thief."

"The only furnishing in her bower is a nest bed of gold-toned wood. She steals for the challenge of it not for the treasures. Gardens, birds, and a place for her guests are all she wishes."

"What of her audience chamber?" Zyulla tilted her head curiously.

"A shady place beneath the trees on her roof. Her throne is a forked tree." Hevtos' eyes sparkled and Atos laid his hands on the table with a pleased smile. "It is in my realm, no one who is not invited can intrude on her and I will keep her safe."

"I will create a chamber fitting for a sweet child." Atos exhaled. "I would not have expected that of her."

"She tries to hide her soft heart," Zyulla glanced at Atos, "to keep it protected."

"Wound her soft heart and she will not rest until she's made you suffer." He inclined his head and reached out to squeeze Cyran's shoulder. "I have made you both suffer, and your sons. I am willing to try to be civil now. There will be a council held. The elven gods have been clamoring for it.

"At the council, I will summon you both and publicly release you. The stones will be returned to their proper owners at that time. If you will stop Syreilla from burning all of Imos' temples and wiping his name from mouth and memory, I will command him to leave you in peace."

"I would have the curses placed on my sons lifted." Zyulla looked at Atos with determination. "You should not have been wronged as you were but neither should they have been."

There was a moment of silence and Atos inclined his head, "Agreed, it is done. I will discover why Rielle has done this to us all and punishment will fall on her. I will see to it."

"Ask Syreilla to see to it." Hevtos smiled faintly, "Your grandchild intimidated Isca."

Atos broke into laughter, "She put herself in the path of my anger without flinching. Seeing her eyes flicker with flame and no trace of fear on that child's face, I could think she believed she would be able to stand against me."

"I've seen my cousin fight, Grandfather. I would be more surprised if she couldn't." Cyran gave him a wry smile as Hevtos broke into laughter.

"My granddaughter shouldn't be fighting anyone so much older than she is. Rielle may deserve to have a goddess of vengeance visit her but Syreilla is too young and needs more time and education." Zyulla's look to him and to Hevtos was faintly chiding.

"Agreed." Atos, at least, seemed pleased. "I will deal with the matter, though, I may allow her to assist me. You will be summoned to the council. I will tell Nimphon all that has been decided and ask him to have Gilither call the council. She will keep things civil in Cyran's absence."

"In my absence?" Cyran frowned, studying him.

"You will be speaking to your father. I will join you for a time and see to it he listens. He also must be told that punishing his uncle is no longer permitted."

*Seventy-one*

Syreilla felt Odos put a hand on her arm to bring her attention back to the interminably dull introductions that were a matter of formality between the gods on such occasions. Neither Finwion nor Bone White were present and their exclusion soured her mood. She didn't care at all who the other elves were.

"And who is here from the dwarves?" One of the elven goddesses, this one with a faint silvery aura like starlight around her, asked coolly.

A dwarf clad in impressive dark embellished armor with a braided black beard and a heavy, carved hammer on his back stepped forward. At his side were what looked like dwarves made of steel that radiated a subtle smokey malevolence she could feel from where she sat.

"Orsas Fellforger comes on behalf of all, Gilither." His scowl made the air in the room feel like the forges at Delver's Deep and Syr grinned.

"Why did the rest not come?" An elven goddess, with a melodic voice and gentle golden light radiating from her in Syr's enhanced vision, rose from her seat and Syreilla began to laugh.

"Who associates with elves when they don't have to? I'm grateful any chose to come, it'll make the day more tolerable." She gave the dwarf an impish grin and a nod of her head when he looked her way.

"You're the Hammersworn girl?" His face softened slightly.

"I'm the Golden Rook, but Syreilla Hammersworn is here." Syr tapped her chest with a wry smile. "I wanted to be whole but she wants to go to-"

"There are other matters to discuss." Mabor interrupted her and she gave him a flat look.

Orsas snorted. "I'll sit with the Golden Rook. We can discuss it privately."

"Dwarves rarely attend and when they do they choose to stand." Gilither sounded amused and as Syr glanced around she realized no place had been prepared for him.

"He can take my seat." Syr put on a wide, toothy smile, "I can perch on chair backs."

The dwarf rounded the table and gave her an approving look, "Perch on my chair, Lady Rook." The steel dwarves stood back from the table.

"How can she stand the smell?" One of the elves with dark, reddish eyes and an aura that seemed to prickle around him wrinkled his nose as she leaned on the back of the dwarf's chair.

"I like the smell of dwarf. It's the smell of earth, sweat, leather, and steel, the smell of the forge. It smells like home."

Knocking on the table, Orsas turned his head slightly to Odos, "How much for the Rook?"

"I gave her to Hevtos so that all of this could come about." Odos gave her a faint smile, "I'd hoped to get her back afterward but he's made it clear the Golden Rook is his now."

"I can make a golden bird for him."

"Enough!" the elf she'd taken the last stone from interrupted. "We are here to discuss the matter of Zyulla and the stolen stones. It is unacceptable-"

"To allow my grandmother to languish any longer, yes, I agree!" Syreilla stood up straight with a mirthless grin. "I won't promise your stones back and I won't promise not to come for the rest, with the exception of yours, Master Fellforger, unless she's set free. Give me a reason not to come for them."

Odos covered his face and the dwarf chuckled.

"The Hammersworn girl swore she'd never steal from dwarves."

"The Golden Rook won't either. Dwarves were always good to us."

"Give them a chance to do the right thing before you start with threats, little rook." Odos spread his hands looking at the rest of those gathered. "What should have been a matter between three gods has spilled over for too long into the lives of mortals and gods alike. Zyulla should be freed, Hevtos restored to his proper place and everything else can be discussed much more civilly."

"You'll have the Rook give back the stones and promise not to steal from us again?" Silfeya eyed Syr with as much distaste as the elves had the dwarf.

"Hevtos is the only one who could command that. I gave him my Rook and she's loyal."

"Not loyal enough to steal from the dwarves," one of the other elves sourly observed as Syreilla took a knee next to Fellforger's chair.

"Master Fellforger, if they won't see reason and my Uncle needs all of the stones to set Zyulla free, is there any service I might offer that would gain me the lend of the dwarvish stones?"