Hammer and Feather Ch. 01-07

"I need a few more feathers."

"You'll have talons, soon, Syreilla."

"Did you ever make that boot knife you wanted?" Orefinder gave her an amused look.

"No, I'm still making do with the old one." She bent and drew it out to show him the plain, human-made blade.

"I'll make one of those too." Orsas gave it a disgusted look.

"It's not the best blade I've ever had but it serves its purpose. I'm not ashamed to carry it, I just wanted a better one. I'll put it back in reserve for when I need a knife and don't have another at hand."

The dwarf held out his hand with a look of annoyance. "I'll give you a better one to keep on hand."

"It's not a bad little knife." She handed it over and he looked at it closely.

"For a human smith, it was adequate work. A goddess should carry better."

"You sound like Vezar. He wants to build me a library with golden shelves." Syreilla shook her head and the dwarves grinned.

"He should collect those little glass figurines for you," Orefinder teased.

"It isn't all figurines I like, it was just those. And I don't want a home filled with gold, I wanted a shelf to put the books he and my cousin brought me on. I made plain wooden shelves and he changed them."

"You can't keep a dragon from filling his home with gold." Orefinder laughed and gave her a look as if she'd done something silly.

"I wouldn't dream of it, I'm keeping him from filling my home with gold. We have separate chambers."

Both dwarves looked at her incredulously.

"I love him and I enjoy going into his chambers every bit as much as I enjoy him coming into mine but we have very different tastes as far as what we feel a home should look like. Mine is uncluttered, stone, tree roots, open balconies, and no doors. His is much more closed, doors, windows, everything is black and gold, it's beautiful and it suits him but I don't want to live in his chamber."

"What color stone?" Orsas smiled as he studied her.

"Mostly black, it looks so beautiful contrasting with the tree roots, but on my garden balcony, the stone is almost white. The dark stone with the dark earth looked strange, somehow."

"I'll ask Hevtos if I can come to see it." The black-haired dwarf looked at her wistfully. "If you'd let me."

"I love having visitors. You would be welcome to visit me if Uncle Hevtos will allow it. He can be odd with who he allows in and who he doesn't. I know Bone White isn't allowed in. Uncle scolded me for crossing the black lake with Finwion."

The dwarves broke into laughter again.

"How did you cross it?" Orefinder grinned, "Is he still using that tiny wooden thing?"

"No, the wooden boat rotted. I remembered a story about stone boats left lying-"

Both dwarves started to swear about her breathlessness and she interrupted them.

"I know the laws of salvage!" Syr put a hand on her hip and frowned, "That boat had been lying there since before I was born, more than three hundred years is a respectable amount of time to wait and it was the last one lying there. The others must have been taken already."

They looked at her with deep annoyance, and Orsas exhaled loudly before speaking. "You should have asked first."

"I've never heard of anyone asking before they went to salvage something. If it's any consolation, Bone White was impressed with it."

"The compliment was probably backhanded." Orsas folded his arms.

"I corrected him." When they looked at her pointedly she continued, "He said dwarves were impressively clever, if only they could be civil. I told him if dwarves are rude it's because elves have been first. I get along with dwarves."

"I'd have loved to see his face." Orsas gave her a smug smile, "You should have been born in a mine."

"I'm a born troublemaker, Orsas. Dwarves have more patience than humans but I think it runs a little short with dwarf children. Nali's a sweet girl, her family should have looked after her better."

"Sirruil will look after her." Orefinder rubbed his beard absentmindedly, "She's already reminding him of his mother."

"Then there's no one better to look after her. He might have learned a few tricks his mother used to keep an eye on him by now, or guessed them, he does have Syreilla's Eye. Dwarvish good looks were the only thing he inherited from his father. That boy kept her on her toes."

Orsas chuckled. "Sirruil Flamedrawn keeps everyone on their toes. Come with me, Syreilla. I'll get you a knife to take home and you can see what I've done with your talons."

*Two*

Pacing in his audience chamber, Vezar waited impatiently for his Syreilla to return. His door opened and he spun to face it but it was only a spectral priest with a pair of souls. They looked at him fearfully and held out their feathers.

"These two belong to Syreilla."

"She has not yet returned. Why does Grandfather allow her to visit the dwarves? They wish to steal my treasure."

"She will return soon, Orsas Fellforger has spoken to Hevtos of the arrangement."

"Arrangement?" Vezar growled and took a step toward him.

"She will return." The priest slipped out leaving the two nervous thieves brandishing feathers at him.

"Come. You will tell me all you have done and then you will go to wait at the foot of her tower. When she returns, Syreilla the Rook will decide what is to be done with you."

"What does she usually decide?" One of the thieves eyed him with some curiosity creeping into his fear.

"If you have a good heart you'll have very little punishment, or perhaps none at all. If you don't you may wish you hadn't asked her to intercede. She's the goddess of righteous vengeance and the protector of gentle souls."

He nodded slowly.

The other inquired, "How does she decide that? If we have good reasons for what we did?"

"Syreilla the Rook will look at you and know. Her eye-"

"Syreilla's Eye! I told you it wasn't a myth! It belongs to the Rook!"

"Lady Rook." Vezar looked at them with annoyance. "She is a goddess even if she dresses like a vagabond and a thief."

Both men relaxed and grinned, "She's one of us. You can make her a goddess but you can't take the thief out of her."

"If she decides you require punishment you come to me." Vezar glowered at them and they stopped smiling. "My golden treasure is the daughter of Odos, her father raised her to be a thief, but she's a goddess who should have a great deal more respect shown to her."

They bobbed their heads and one offered an awkward bow.

Vezar took his seat on his throne, the black seat had what were meant to be gilded roots like the bottom of a fallen tree all around it but Syreilla had been impressed with the way it looked more like some sort of gold tentacled monstrosity reaching in all directions instead. She sat in the crown of the tree and he chose the roots. He glanced at his doorway. The moment these had been sent down he would inquire of his grandfather what arrangement had been spoken of.

One cleared his throat carefully, "If she's the one who judges us why are we..."

"I have to decide in what form you should wait for her."

The other looked as if he wanted to discuss the matter and Vezar's tolerance evaporated. "I have no patience for you today. You will wait as a pair of her rooks until she returns."

He waved his hand and the startled thieves trembled, their faces contorting as their bodies slowly changed into those of the black birds Syreilla was so fond of. With a thought, he opened the door that led to her audience chamber and beyond and the thieves-turned-rooks fell over themselves flapping and hopping to get through it.

Vezar stormed out of his chamber, searching for Hevtos. The god of death was standing on the threshold speaking to Isca.

"Allow me to enter. Have I caused harm-"

"Syreilla the Rook's home is protected and her visitors must meet my requirements. I protect that gentle child and none whom I feel she should be kept safe from may enter to visit with her."

"A goddess of vengeance shouldn't be a gentle child."

"Righteous vengeance, Isca. Her fury and viciousness are an armor to protect the soft heart within."

The goddess snorted and departed the doorstep. Hevtos frowned and made his way to where Vezar stood in the shadow of the entrance.

"My brother told me that they argued with our Syreilla. She doesn't agree with their plans. When she returns-"

"Where is she? What arrangement was made?"

"Orsas wants a Fellwife like Syreilla if he cannot have her. She agreed to help him find one and to bless a dwarf. The matter will take some time."

"She's giving the dwarf a child?" He felt his heart drop to his belly. "My Syreilla..."

"No. She is blessing a child already born. This is not as complete as the blessing Odos gave. This child will not be her daughter, though she may claim it as kin if she chooses."

"I beg of you, let me find a place to make safe for her, a place I can give her a child of her own."

"You have your tasks. Hers can be deferred at times, but yours cannot. You are needed."

Vezar looked out at the threshold. "You could make a door..."

"No."

"She wants a child. If I cannot-"

"Syreilla the Rook will not leave you. You are bound together tightly, touch your threads and be reassured."

He wanted to argue but the need to feel his treasure was too great. Caressing the threads, he gently pulled on them to make her want to return. As he did, he felt her delight at something the dwarf was showing her. She held affection for him but she belonged with her dragon, she sent the thought and a passionate caress of her own across the threads.

Hevtos was smiling at him as he opened his eyes. "They may tease her for that. That was nearly lewd."

"She will be home soon." Vezar felt weight melting off of his shoulders. "I don't want her giving children to anyone else, Grandfather. Her children should be mine."

"The time may come when you can give her one, son of my son, but it is not yet here."

With a hand on his back, Hevtos escorted Vezar back inside. Syreilla would be home soon.

*Three*

Syr turned her wide smile on Orsas as she noticed his red ears. "He gets a little impatient and wants to know when I'm coming home."

"If you answered me that way I'd be impatient for your return too." The black-haired dwarf gave her an appreciative look.

"Part of the fun of leaving is being missed and welcomed back. I'm troublesome enough, I have to give my poor dragon something to look forward to so that he wants me to come home."

The dwarf laughed and shook his head. "Off you go, Syreilla, before I start thinking about stealing from dragons. I'll have your talons ready for you soon and a better boot knife than the one I gave you."

"Thank you, Orsas. I'd still like to come and watch."

He laughed and his ears turned red again, "If you'd help me wash up after..."

"You're trying to make me understand how my dragon got seduced, aren't you?" She gave him a sour look and he broke into laughter.

Fellforger opened a door for her and she slipped through with a smile, Baduil following after. Hevtos' doorstep was empty. Before she reached the entrance, Isca stepped out of nowhere.

"There you are! I've been asking about you for days."

"The matters with Orsas took a little longer than I expected." Syreilla tilted her head studying the goddess of war and hunting carefully with her good eye. The air around the woman looked like shade falling on a murky lake.

"Invite me in. I need to speak with you."

"No."

Isca exhaled in exasperation and Syr saw it billow around her like fog. "Come to my home. We need to talk, Syreilla."

"No."

They studied one another for a long moment.

"Why?"

"You've gotten murkier. I don't trust you enough to invite you in or to believe you'd allow me to leave without a fight."

"That would be rude. You're too young to know the rules-"

"I'm old enough to know a threat when I see it. Every shadow and ripple around you tells me not to trust you, rules be damned."

The goddess' eyes narrowed but her smile was appreciative as if Syreilla had caught onto something unexpectedly and it pleased her. "Very well. I'll arrange another location."

For a moment after Isca departed, Syr considered going in but she traded a look with Baduil where he was perched on the stone of the opening. He felt it too.

"We have another errand. If something should happen to me, Baduil, you go back to Orsas and tell him I'd like you to look after Nali until I get out of whatever mess this is."

The raven flew immediately to perch on her shoulder.

"It's a comfort to know you're next to me, dear one."

She opened the door and a weight settled on her chest. Syr stood looking through, hesitating for a heartbeat, before moving her feet. It felt as if she were stepping toward something suffocating and terrifying. A weight settled on her chest and she had a suspicion she knew why.

Finwion's clearing looked exactly as it had the last time she'd been here. This time, however, the large-eyed elf didn't seem pleased to see her. He gestured wildly and seemed angry about her entering where she had.

Syreilla held up her hands. "I don't know where else to open the door, Finwion, and I need to warn you."

He paused and looked at her oddly, beckoning for her to continue.

"Can you feel it? The weight? Something bad is coming your way." She took a deep breath and looked around as his head tilted. "They won't listen to me. They have their plans; the goddess of war has her plans and my grandfather is out for blood. Get as many of your people to safety as you can. It's going to fall on the mortals harder than anyone else, elves and half-elves alike."

Finwion paled slightly and then darted forward to grab her by the wrist, dragging her through onto the far shore of the black lake.

"Uncle fussed-"

A furious voice rang through the air and she didn't understand the elvish words. Finwion held up his hands in placation, moving away from the water and dropping onto his knees. Baduil took flight as Syreilla followed him.

"Syreilla the Rook?" Nimphon gave her a frigid look as he swept up to them, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Do you want me to use words or-"

She held still as he took firm hold of her chin. His eyes were the pearlescent grey of his stone but with the intensity of his scrutiny, all she could see was blinding white. It felt for a moment as if the floor was falling out from under her as her memories and thoughts were looked over. Syr blinked and rubbed her eyes as he stepped away.

"They dare?" He helped Finwion to his feet. "You are both forgiven for this trespass."

"They won't listen to-"

"This entire matter should have been brought to me, Rook."

"And I'll leave it to you if that's what's supposed to be done, but-"

The white-haired elf turned and gave her an exasperated smile, "Thank you for granting me what was already mine."

Huffing, she adjusted her cloak, "You're welcome. But that doesn't change the fact that I couldn't make them listen to me and I don't see a way to stop them on my own."

Nimphon gave Finwion a deeply amused look. "She came to you because you're clever enough to help her stop them."

The large-eyed elf grinned.

"They won't soon forgive you for betraying their plans, Syreilla." Nimphon gave her a speculative look, "If you need a new home, I will offer you one."

"I only accept homes in places where I can come and go as I please and I won't give up the one I already have." Syr gave him a mischievous smile, "Besides I think Orsas is freeing up a spot for me with their birds. He gave me a raven and a dwarf."

"Nali." Baduil croaked, coming to land on her shoulder.

"This is..." Nimphon studied the bird with surprise.

"This is Baduil Rookfriend. I apologize for bringing him without asking. Nali is the dwarf Orsas allowed me to claim. Baduil is as fond of her as I am, I think."

Finwion huffed.

"I get along with dwarves."

"You would get along with elves if you behaved less like a dwarf." Nimphon gave her an almost doting smile. "I have encouraged the others strongly to be kinder to half-elves."

"I have the feeling that they'll need the kindness." She rubbed her chest as the feeling of weight returned. "Something is coming."

"You're a protector of gentle souls, the coming war feels like a crushing weight." The elf inclined his head. "I will do what I can to stop this now."

He gestured to the stone boat, she stepped into it with Finwion and the white-haired elf followed. As they crossed the water, the hair stood on her arms and Baduil took flight.

She waited until they touched the other side to speak. "Finwion... If something happens to me, see to it that Baduil gets back to Orsas. Will you do that for me? I don't know if I'll be able to offer you a favor in return."

"Child, nothing will happen to you here." Nimphon gave her a concerned look but his attention was pulled away as Isca and Atos stepped into view, both were murky but the murk around Isca was darker than it had been before.

"I told you, Atos, she wasn't off speaking to the dwarves, she ran to the elves."

"Syreilla, this matter-"

"This matter should have been brought to me. She is a protector of gentle souls and she feels the crushing weight of the coming war. Syreilla the Rook has done as she should."

"Rielle must be punished. I would have all who worship her feel the heat of my wrath."

Atos squared his shoulders and Syr could see his hand brightening in the murk surrounding him. She was moving before she realized it, putting herself between Nimphon and the coming blow.

"Grandfather. This is wrong. You have to lis-"

She didn't see the blow but she felt the air knocked from her and felt the embrace of the water as she struck it. It was as black and thick as it had looked and no amount of swimming seemed to help her move even as a flare of light briefly illuminated the water above her like smoky glass. Syreilla stopped moving and waited, summoning her wits. In Hevtos' realm, there was no need for food or water, no need even to breathe, it was just a habit that she'd always kept. Bone White's realm should be the same. She hoped.

Deliberately, she relaxed without taking a breath in. It felt odd but it didn't burn. There was no urgency. Bringing her hands together and steepling her fingers in the still and silent liquid dark, she started to think. If all she could use were her wits, then she'd sharpen them as best she could. What would be the best way to escape this lake? When she got out of here, what could be done? What was likely to happen in her absence?

*Four*

Vezar felt the change. It was as if he'd been doused with frigid water. He grasped the threads that connected him to Syreilla and felt them pressed down tightly, almost as if they ended. The only way he knew they didn't is that they were still taut.

"Grandfather." The word came out as a rasp and then he found his voice, calling out in anguish, "GRANDFATHER!"

Trembling, he knelt, running his senses over the threads until Hevtos reached his side. "She... my treasure... something..."

Hevtos vanished. It felt like an eternity until he returned with Atos.

"Where is my Syreilla?"

"Isca..." Atos shook his head. "She convinced me that we needed to attack. Syreilla put herself between us and Nimphon. Isca..."

"She was knocked into the black waters. Do you have any sigil of hers? Has she made any sigil with her own hands? The sigil I created will not suffice to draw her back, the power of its creation must have come from her to be strong enough to pull her from the waters."

"No..." Vezar bent his head to the floor. "My treasure..."

"She begged me to listen. The plans we were making felt like a crushing weight on the child's chest."

The sound of Atos' voice as he admitted causing sweet Syreilla pain and being the reason she would never return to him ignited a rage like Vezar had never felt and he lifted his head, feeling his face and body contorting. Whatever words Hevtos was speaking in answer were no longer comprehensible, the blood rushed in his ears and the dragon's roar of fury drowned out all else.