Hammer and Feather Ch. 58-64

The goddess saw her immediately and opened her mouth to speak but closed it as Nimphon began his advance.

"Syreilla the Rook, burn these men." His voice was frigid and Syr grinned her widest, maddest grin as she obeyed, igniting every soldier she saw.

"You dare come here and violate-"

"I was invited." Isca sneered and Finwion held up his hands. "He owed me a favor for letting him intervene with those elf children."

Nimphon made a sharp gesture and the large-eyed elf's green, speckled stone appeared in his hand. "You have gone too far, Finwion! His invitation does not suffice. Where is Navisse?"

"I gave her a choice, as Syreilla is so fond of doing. She could remain here unharmed with her temple or go with the mortals to protect them and abandon it to me." Isca smirked and marched toward them ignoring what were now burning lumps of men. "If you've been permitted to resurrect your rooks, Syreilla, you'll resurrect my daughter and give her back to me."

Syr broke into laughter and then waved her hands. "You don't understand. You discarded her. I-"

"I discarded nothing!" Isca thundered and stepped forward as if she were trying to be intimidating.

Stepping forward and putting her face within inches of Isca's, Syreilla spoke with a mad grin, "I stripped her down to the decent parts left inside and let the weight of what she'd done and what you'd done weigh on her. I let her see that you could have ensured her peace by not harming children, a simple decent thing and an easy one. You discarded her and she made a deal with me. I've already brought her back, Isca. She's one of my birds, working against you to put right all that you have put wrong and earning her redemption and reward.

"You can't buy anything for her because she's bought it on her own. If you want to bargain with me for Navisse and the mortals I'm listening, but bargaining with Nimphon will get you further because you're not getting anything from my grandfather and all I have for you is fire and vengeance."

"You have a stone, as worthless and carved as it is, you'll give it to me and behave yourself or I'll-"

"Threaten my family, Isca." Syr drew her talons. "Spill their blood and no one's tethers will hold me. I will burn your worshippers and everyone else's until there is only ash remaining and when your power is broken I will come for you with my talons."

Finwion tried to put his hands between them and she slashed at them making him leap back before he lost a finger.

"You deserve to feel her blades for what you've done," Nimphon spoke coolly. "Burn no elves Syreilla and we will have no quarrel. If you need to be stopped from killing humans your grandfather can give that command.

"Isca, you have no right to be here and no right to menace Navisse. You will return her-"

"You don't command me, Nimphon. Ahevhethrah doesn't command me, and for all her threats neither does Syreilla. But..." Isca smiled coldly, "I have to repay her for what she's done and I can see in her eyes she'll keep her word if I slaughter that niece of hers. You want to bargain with me, Syreilla? I'll let the mortals I took from here live if you surrender and walk into my cells in chains. Give me your precious talons right now and I'll even let you choose one of those pitiful mortals to keep you company."

"I'll send Navisse back to you safely, Nimphon." Syr stood straight and offered her talons hilt first. "I choose Braigon. Fetch your chains, Isca."

"You'll send no one, Syreilla. You'll be chained in a cell." Isca took the talons and looked them over before stepping forward and sinking one into Syreilla's shoulder.

Syr's jaw clenched but she didn't make a sound. She stopped breathing and waited. The peculiar steel of the talon made Syr's shoulder and arm throb with agony the longer it was embedded.

"I could have made something out of you. It's a pity you chose to side with fools."

Gripping the hilt of the blade, Isca pulled her through a doorway. Isca's priests looked shocked as they stepped through into the temple. A faint, invigorating hum of power and the feel of the air told her that this wasn't the huntress' city.

"Fetch the chains and my prisoners."

After what felt like a long wait, Navisse entered with Olthon perched on her shoulder followed by Amtalia and the children. Belthamdir broke away from them trying to get to Syreilla but Finwion scooped her up and pulled her to the side.

Isca ripped the talon out and laughed quietly as flames licked at the healing wound instead of blood. "The girl thinks you'll protect her? What will she think when she hears you chose Braigon to watch over?"

"She's my niece. She knows I'd burn the world for her." Syr put on a mirthless smile. "Whether I'm by her side or not she's covered by my protection, the boy isn't as lucky. Spill a drop of her blood to test me, Isca, and this place won't be left standing. The only living creatures left for miles will be those Nimphon claims."

"And her mother?" The goddess of war smirked.

"Loathes me. Always has. I don't mind, but the only reason I would protect her would be if I were asked to and no one has asked me to." Half-truths and lies, she grinned and waited to see if the goddess would hear them.

"You loathe her?" Isca turned to look at Amtalia.

"I... she's terrifying. I made my husband throw her out once."

Barking a laugh, Isca turned back to Syr. "I might spare her just for that."

Finwion began making gestures, including Belthamdir in them.

"I intend to keep that little brat at hand to ensure Syreilla's good behavior and yours, elf. I'll send the rest down to the cells but first, I want them to watch as you empty your pockets, Syreilla, and hold out your hands for the chains."

"You should let them sit." Syr grinned as widely as she could as the priests hurried back in carrying manacles and chains like those on Navisse's wrists. "I have a lot of pockets."

"All this bravado..." The goddess slapped her across the face and Syreilla laughed.

"My mother hit me harder than that, surely you can do better?"

"Empty your pockets."

With a shrug, she began to pull out her things, laying out the remnants of her powders and the vials of ingredients for dragon's fire first, her sausages, and then her tools one after another making a small heap of them on the table, the shaped bar, the sheaths for her talons, and finally the boot knife she'd put the remnants of Rielle's power into. Isca picked up the peculiar blade and looked at it with amusement. Syr could see the intent to use it on someone while she was made to watch as if the goddess had spoken it aloud.

"You and your ugly birds.

"Check her pockets and be certain she isn't hiding any more of her tools or knives."

A priest came and tried to pull her draped mantle off with a yank and his fingers passed through it.

"I'm a goddess. That's made of smoke." She grinned and let it rise over their heads.

The men shrank back and looked up at it with trepidation.

"My husband enjoys how terrified your priests and soldiers get as he rips them apart, he feeds off of it. I just find it amusing."

"If she harms you the elves die. Do as you were told." Isca gave her a cool smirk. "They'll never worship you if they fear you. How can you hope to rival me if they all turn and run at the mention of your name?"

"They worship my husband and they're terrified of him. Did I tell you about that bargain? The mages I stole from you-"

Isca sent the blade sailing toward the elves and Olthon caught it in his beak fluttering to the ground with it before returning to Navisse's shoulder.

"I thought we were making pleasant conversation." Syr tsked and shrugged.

"Nimphon didn't give that bird to Cyran, he gave it to you. Why is it with Navisse?" Isca made an impatient gesture and the priests began patting Syr's pockets. One went and took the knife back from OIthon.

"The bird was given to Cyran, he must have sent it to Navisse to keep watch. I would wager that my cousin has gone back to the elves."

"Finwion told me that the bird was given to you."

"Finwion wasn't present when the birds were handed to me with their instructions. I had dropped that envious wretch back into his own clearing when he tried to push me back into the black lake. I was given gifts to pass along and I kept no elvish birds for myself."

"Envious?" The goddess laughed, "Why would a god older than your worthless father be envious of you?"

"I made Nimphon laugh and that beardless tree-fucker," she gestured toward Finwion, "is more than half insane. It's like asking why would a squirrel run under the hooves of a cart-horse? No one can tell you what's going on in his acorn-filled head."

The large-eyed elf huffed and started making gestures of protest. Isca broke into laughter. A glance at Navisse showed that even she was trying to keep a straight face but Amtalia and the children looked nervous and baffled.

"You need to learn better insults." Isca composed herself and shook her head with a smile. "It's apt though. And when I think about it, dwarves hold your stone and your priests are all dwarves at the moment, I suppose it does make sense that you'd use their insults."

"Her pockets are all empty, Divinity." The priest who'd brought the knife back from Olthon bowed deeply as he spoke and Syr took a good look at him.

There was a peculiar haze around him. She looked at him with one eye and then the other. He wasn't aware that he was lying, they just had managed to overlook the coin down her front.

"Don't get any ideas, Rook." Isca snorted. "Itia wasn't my only child but she's the only one you're going to murder and force to betray me."

"I didn't force her to do anything. Death allowed me to put her life into perspective for her and she made a bargain. She was desperate for your approval in life, I assume the boy is as well?"

"I'm no boy." The priest spun and tried to land a blow but Syr turned, avoiding it, and let him stumble.

"My husband will like this one."

"You'd let your kin be tormented?" Isca arched her brow. "He's from your mother's side of the family."

"He's a distant cousin at best and I don't interfere when they get what they've earned. I didn't intervene on my mother's behalf either. I only intercede when they come with a feather.

"Did you go looking for that line trying to get a child like me?" She put on her widest grin.

"Put the chains on her, Aderune." Isca turned the boot knife over in her hands. "Untainted by elven blood, perhaps I could get a better child."

"Father seemed certain that the parts he values most came from the elf who fathered me, but you're right. Some of the parts I value most, like malevolence and viciousness, I got from my mother."

The chains felt unpleasant and Syr made her mantle of smoke dissipate rather than fight the steel to keep it close or allow Isca to take it as well.

"March her to the cells with the others. Navisse will remain here. We have things to discuss."

"Braigon stays with me."

For a moment she thought Isca was going to break her word but the goddess seemed to think better of it.

"Which of those little elvish brats is Braigon?" She snapped the question at Amtalia.

"I am." The boy stepped forward and put his chin up.

"Put him with her and see to it he's chained as well. Put a guard on her cell and if she moves in a way he doesn't approve of, have him cut the points off of the elf's ears."