Undying Ch. 11-15

Her return with the fresh horse was a relief. He helped her hitch it to the cart and get settled in his arms again before encouraging it down the road. It did not take her long to fall into sleep against his warm chest and he began his work. It would be easier if she opened herself fully to his will, but that she wasn't fighting him was enough to allow him to make broad semi-permanent changes.

Laboriously shaping the bond so that it gave him more freedom and bound her to his side, she would feel it if she left him again. She would be less sharp and more respectful, some small amount of obedience would be pleasing. Loving, Syreilla would feel most at ease held close. Syvilas could not resist priming the threads of desire just a bit more. When they attached they would be like burrs clinging to him.

The sun was rising as she woke. He smiled as she rubbed her eyes and then buried her face in his chest as if in defiance of the sun. "How much farther until we arrive at Delver's Deep, my sweet sister?"

She grumbled and turned her head to look at the road. "Have you come to the fork yet? Pale and Lew?"

"No."

Sighing, she muttered, "When you do go toward Lew and wake me."

"You could keep me company." He rubbed his chin in her hair.

"I feel more tired now than when I shut my eyes, Syv. My head aches. I swear I slept better on top of the steel box you were in than I did in your lap."

He shifted on the seat under her wondering if he'd done too much. Putting the reins in one hand he stroked her ear. "Rest, my dear Syreilla."

"I'm sorry Syv. You didn't sleep at all, and it can't be comfortable having me in your lap for hours." She started to try to slip out of his arms.

"Stay. Please, Syreilla." Syvilas pressed his hand to her ear. "I can try to ease the pain."

"Without someone to draw from?" She nestled so sweetly back against him.

"It will tire me." Her pain was his doing, he needed to try to ease it. "I want to try, sister. Close your eyes and try to sleep." He stroked her ear and massaged her head with his fingertips, using the bond to draw the pain away from her and into himself. His head throbbed relentlessly.

Syvilas woke her as she had instructed when they came to the fork at midday. "Syreilla. I need you to wake." She rubbed her face against his shirt as if she were declining and he laughed softly. "Sister, you need to eat and I need to be told where I am going."

With a yawn, Syr slid from his lap onto the bench seat. "Do you want some bread and sausage, brother?"

"I do not eat what you eat, sweet sister. But some wine would be welcome."

Nodding she fetched his bottle first and then her own food. "Do we need to find something for you?" She settled herself at an angle so that her legs were still touching him.

A glance at her concerned face made him smile. "Not urgently."

"We'll be going through Lew and then up toward Delver's Deep. Lew isn't bad. They do business with the clans at Delver's and they're decent enough. I can point out a few people no one would miss terribly on our way through if you'd like."

"On our way back down. I will need to keep this face until we have finished our dealings with the dwarves." Dealings he intended to keep short.

"I was planning to trade the wagon for a horse and show you the long way 'round."

Syv watched her tear into the hunk of bread like a barbarian. Her mouth barely stayed closed as she chewed the enormous bite. "You look like such a delicate creature, Syreilla, yet you eat like some sort of animal."

Syr's eyes sparkled with amusement as she uncorked her bottle of mead and took a long swig. "You don't mean to tell me appearances can be deceiving, Syv? What has the world come to if a delicate flower like myself can't trust her own eyes?"

"I mean to tell you there is such a thing as manners, my uncivilized sister. It may even be possible to teach them to you."

"Says the man who doesn't chew his food." Her impish grin turned to laughter as he drew himself up and gave her an exaggerated huff.

Her lack of fear was breathtaking. "I do not think anyone has ever teased me about the way I... eat."

"Those gods you're so fond of must be punishing you with my presence." She was clearly in the mood to tease him now.

"If they are, I would know my crime." Syvilas smiled at her adoringly, "That I may commit it a thousand times over. Perhaps then they will curse me with you forever."

Syreilla snorted at him and shook her head. "You'll get tired of me and eat me in a week." Her grin said she knew better and he decided to tease her.

"Perhaps. But I promise I will chew you properly." He snapped his teeth at her and was rewarded with her laughter. She laughed until she couldn't breathe, nearly falling from the cart.

Once she'd calmed from her laughing fit she wiped at her eyes. "Syv..."

He grinned at her, making her struggle to keep her composure.

"You looked like a dragon when you did that, and your grin is so wide." He studied her amused and adoring face.

"Have you ever seen a dragon?" She had whether she knew it or not. Human and dragon had not combined as prettily as human and elf, he'd tried to balance the hideousness of his form with useful and needed skills. Still, he had not been accepted until he had been given his gifts and been able to change himself.

"Carvings and drawings. I've never found any. Everyone says they're all dead or asleep." Syr seemed a little disappointed and she seemed to notice his curious look. "I've looked for them. Can you imagine getting to loot a dragon's hoard?"

"My mad sister." Syvilas marveled at her. "What would you do with a dragon's hoard?"

"Spend some, take the rest home to Delver's Deep." Syreilla shrugged and resumed her mauling of the bread and sausage.

"You would steal a dragon's bed out from under him to spend it or take it to the dwarves?" He chided her with a smile.

He watched her wash down another mouthful and smile mischievously, "If he sleeps through it it's his own fault."

"And if he does not?" He sipped his wine from the bottle, eyeing her bottle of mead. The wine was sour and unpleasant in comparison to the elvish wine he'd grown fond of as King. Her mead was at least palatable.

"Then things would get interesting." Syreilla offered him her bottle. "You made a face and looked at mine."

"This wine is wretched." Syvilas took a drink of her mead. "Your mead is surprisingly enjoyable."

"Liquid gold." Her tone was almost smug. "Dwarf beer is good too, but-"

"Mead is more suited to a refined palate." He handed the bottle back and reached to caress her ear before he drew his hand back. "There may be hope for you yet, sister."

Syr kicked at his leg as he pulled it away and laughed.

She sat close, her shoulder leaning against his for the rest of the ride, talking about her dwarvish family and the mine. Approaching it in the hour before sunset, Syvilas was not nearly as excited at the thought of sleeping inside the stone confines as Syreilla. He tried to hide his sulking from her as she helped the dwarves unload the box and spoke to the Master of the mine.

He only half-listened until he heard the dwarf inquiring about the crown and the corpse. It was clear to him that the dwarf knew about the prison. This Kaddal had also known, it was why the lich had used him. The dwarf already suspected him, he could tell. Syreilla on the other hand was oblivious.

She returned to him with relief and cheerfulness on her face. "I'll be back with Batran."

Syvilas reached out and took hold of her arms, with a frown. "I would rather you not go in without me."

"For you to be allowed in, Batran has to vouch for you. He's a good judge of character, he'll see what I see in you."

She began to laugh as he pulled her into an embrace wanting to make her stay by force if necessary.

"And if he does not?" he murmured into her ear.

A dwarf had come to speak with the Master of the mine and he looked at Syreilla in his arms with displeasure.

"If he doesn't, you shouldn't wait here. There will be elves coming, I've already been warned."

Syv tightened his grip on her, returning the dwarf's black look.

Syr whispered as if feeling the tension, "If you have to leave, I will meet you at the place I always like to visit. Do you remember? The one you'd prefer I didn't?"

More dwarves came and stood idly with their axes. If he kept her by force she wouldn't forgive him for what would happen to her loved ones. He pulled back reluctantly, kissing her cheek before running his thumb along her jaw. "I remember." Syv lifted his hands and brushed her hair back from her delicately pointed ears letting his fingertips lightly trace the outer edges and assuring himself of the strength of their shared threads. "Be careful, I could not bear to lose my sister."

"You won't lose me, brother." His crown hung from her fingers as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and squeezed him. "But let's hope for the best here, I want to show you my home."

The way her embrace tightened the bonds made him smile despite his concerns.

The dwarf that had glowered at him barked, "Syreilla!" Syr turned to face it and it scowled at her, "What have you done?"

Syv could only watch and listen as she trotted over. "I did a job I probably shouldn't have."

It snorted. "That describes all of your jobs."

"I brought you something, but I need to have it cut up and split the metal and gems with Forgepike's kin." Syreilla offered his crown for the dwarf's inspection.

"And who is that you're hanging all over?" It didn't lift its eyes from the crown.

"I wasn't hanging all over him, Syvilas is my brother."

The dwarf's eyes rose, looking to Syv. "He doesn't look at you like a brother."

Syreilla turned her head back to him and it took all of his self-control not to call her back to his side.

"He's worried. For some reason, he's afraid he's never going to see me again."

"He's looking at you like a starving man looks at a roast pig, Syr. I don't trust his intentions. And I don't think he's your brother, you've been deceived."

"Batran! He's-"

Syvilas took a step forward as the dwarf jabbed its finger down toward the stone and Syreilla sank to her knees, sitting obediently. Bought off of the headsman's block. Was his mischievous Syreilla a slave to be treated that way? The wretched dwarf tilted her face up and looked at her as she spoke more carefully.

"I trust him Batran. He says he's my brother and it feels true."

It gave her a dubious look and didn't let her speak further. "In with you. Take the crown to Kaduil, tell him I'd like him to take it apart."

She nodded and the dwarf continued, holding her mouth closed, "Whoever that is, Syr, is no kin of yours. He's not coming into the mine."

His Syreilla looked devastated.

"You're not the trusting type, Syreilla. For you to have that kind of blind faith in a stranger, something's not right." The dwarf lifted its eyes to meet Syvilas' glare. "In you go, Syr, straight to Kaduil."

Syr looked at him helplessly as he pulled the threads with a thought. She took a step toward him and the dwarf struck her, commanding, "In."

That wretch would suffer. All of these dwarves would suffer-

"Be nice Syv, this is my home, and these dwarves are my family." She held up her hands with his crown dangling from her thumb. Her eyes were pleading.

He could feel it through the bond, if he harmed these dwarves she would not forgive him. Syvilas pulled gently, "Do not go in. Stay with me."

"In, Syreilla. NOW." The dwarf's barked command pulled her back. Syr ran a hand through her hair and shifted her weight from foot to foot for a moment before turning to go in with a last apologetic look back.

Closing his eyes, he balled his fists. She would not stay long, she would feel the pull back to him. He opened his eyes and saw the dwarves looking at him expectantly. "I require a fresh horse. In our haste to bring her friend, we did not allow this one the rest it needed.

The one who had sent her in barked an order in dwarvish and two dwarves came forward, pointing him toward a stable down the slope well away from the entrance. She would go to Brosa. He would meet her there.

*Thirteen*

Kaduil had been all too happy to indulge her. In the bath, against the bath, on the stair to the bedroom, and he'd proudly shown her that he'd measured the bed carefully to make it the perfect height to bend her over the edge of. Curled against his side, Syreilla was warm and content.

There was the distant sound of a drum beating slow and steady as she walked the stone maze. The walls were warm and the air was close, but she could see well enough and she hadn't come across any traps. It was just a maze. She kept walking and the sound of the drums grew louder and more insistent.

She came to a smooth stone wall and turned to go back but behind her, the maze had filled with black mist that was coming closer. Pushing at the bricks on either side desperately it felt as though she were being suffocated until the wall crumbled and she fell into a dim room.

It was the room she'd found Vezar in but there were people here now, elves and dwarves, and a handful of humans. They were gathered around the dais staring. The sound of drum beats was desperate now, and she could see what it was. It was Vezar beating on the glass helplessly. The dark-haired man she'd first seen when he'd restored himself was turning into the dried kindling corpse before her eyes, and these people were just watching.

Syr tried to push past them and felt as though she were swimming in honey. She knew how to get into those locks. Reaching for her tools she realized she was naked. No tools, no clothes, nothing to help him with. Her eyes moved over the people closest to her. Tools. She grabbed for them. They grabbed her hands and shoved her on top of the coffin as the seamless stone rose from nothingness around her.

She could feel the thud of Vezar's fists against the glass at her back as the stone closed around her and then... then there was nothing. Syr was pressed flat by the stone. She couldn't turn to look at Vezar. He wasn't hitting the glass. She started to scream and it made no sound. Alone in a soundless dark place.

Alone. Syreilla sat bolt upright, she was drenched in sweat and shaking. Hevtos' horrors, what a nightmare. She shuddered. Kaduil wasn't in bed with her and she realized she hadn't asked him about clothes.

Rising from the bed she listened for him, moving downstairs as she did. He wasn't in the main room and she went lower to the pantry and then the bath. He wasn't here at all, it seemed. She took a moment to wash while she was there and had the water. Going back up, clean and alone, she kept thinking about Vezar. About Syvilas.

She should have left already. Grabbing a hunk of dwarvish bread and a bottle of mead Kaduil must have gotten for her, she went back up to eat and rummage for clothing. Kaduil had said he knew and she would come back. Coming back would be the thing she looked forward to most. But Syvilas was alone. She had to go.

He had quite a few of her things, Batran must have been emptying her room. But it didn't seem he had any of her clothes. She pulled on one of his shirts, far too wide and not nearly long enough to be a dress.

Rummaging through his clothes muttering to herself with annoyance she almost didn't hear Kaduil return.

"That's a lovely sight."

Syr turned her head and laughed as she watched him toss a parcel to the side and start to undress. "That wouldn't be my clothes would it?"

"No." He was lying with a grin. "I think you wear my shirt well enough."

With a snort, she tried to slip past him to get the parcel and he swept her feet out from beneath her and caught her to put on the bed with a grin. "I need to apologize for letting my own sweet wife wake up alone."

"Did we have a wedding? I hope I didn't sleep through it." She teased him, sitting and bending to kiss his shoulder as he kicked his pants off.

"You're not a dwarf, and because we're both half human, Mordaeg is insisting on the human common law custom. You'll stay with me, having me for your husband for six months and that will be it." He kissed her hungrily, pulling her to the edge of the bed.

Six months. Syvilas. The pain of leaving Syvilas so alone and the awful thought of leaving Kaduil before the time was over was a genuine physical pain. It felt as though someone had stuck a sword through her chest. She curled and shuddered with the pain.

"Syreilla?" Kaduil was suddenly worried, his hands that had been moving over her in desire were now searching, trying to find the source of her pain. "What hurts, what happened?"

"I can't-can't let him be alone. It's too long, I need to go." Syr pressed her face to her knees curling in a tight ball. "I want to stay."

Kaduil wrapped himself around her, stroking her hair. After a long silence he said quietly, "If the spell doesn't break, I'll go with you. Just try. Try to give it time."

Pulling his hands to her face she kissed them and rubbed her face into their roughness. If Syv were anyone else she would be thrilled to have Kaduil offer to come with her. But she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that Syvilas would be furious about having her husband come along. She took a deep breath. "You're a better husband than I deserve."

He pulled her tighter to him and she just breathed, relaxing, enjoying the feel of him. She almost jumped when she heard a voice calling up the stairs. "Kaduil? Syreilla?"

"It's Batran, Syr, easy. Stay here for me." Kaduil tentatively pulled away as if he were afraid she might bolt the moment he let go, and moved to the doorway to call back down, "We're here. We need some time."

It sounded like Batran was right outside the room, "Is something wrong?"

There was a pause and Syr didn't lift her head. Kaduil spoke quietly, "I thought the spell had broken but it's hurting her Batran. I told her about the common law arrangement and the six months and she acted like she'd been stabbed. She wants to stay, but she says she needs to go, she can't let him be alone."

Batran started muttering what sounded like curses in dwarvish, she caught the words beardless and rusted. "Try to get her clothes on her, she needs to come see Lord Olthon, there may be something he can do."

She shuddered at the name. Olthon. Olthon Camaenion was the name Vezar had spoken. His most bitter enemy. If he was here Syvilas must have already left. She hoped Syv had left.

Kaduil was back at her side with the parcel. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know. I need to leave Kaduil."

"Let's get dressed. I need to take you to see someone."

She shuddered again and he climbed beside her and held her tightly.

"Do you still want to stay?"

Nodding, she felt her throat getting tighter.

"That's all I need. Just come with me, Syreilla. Please." Kaduil stroked her hair and kissed the back of her neck.

Breathing deeply, she let Kaduil help her up. She put on the clothes he gave her without argument, even though she hated the dresses Batran had sent. Syr preferred things she could work in. But when he handed her thin slippers she looked at him oddly, "These are not mine."

"Batran said if you didn't complain about them you probably had one foot in the grave." Kaduil gave her a relieved smile.

"I'd kick him but in these, I'd probably break a toe." She frowned and shook her head as his smile turned to a relieved grin.

"There's my wife." His proud tone made her smile despite herself.

"It's a shame I don't have a husband who'll keep me in decent shoes."

The grinning dwarf pulled her head down for a kiss. "No, you have a husband more likely to keep you naked in the house."