Newest bird

Miryil arrived at dusk. She was tired from walking and eager to get her armor back. Getting another look at the girl was something that could wait until morning as long as she was secured.

She could hear two men laughing and talking as she came in unchallenged, and smelled the warm earthy scent of mushroom tea. She stepped into the room and frowned at them sternly. “While you two are here, gossiping like housewives, who is watching the road?”

Erech and Ivhir turned to grin at her.

“Esus is in the mirador with his newest bird.” Ivhir answered her with amusement.

Erech said with a wry smile. “Ivhir was just telling me how he’s been clucking and chirping at the girl like she’s one of his birds. Apparently, he’s been fussing over her endlessly since they arrived.”

Miryil shook her head and glanced upward as if she could see through the wood and stone above her. “I’m not surprised, I told the priest she was a falconet and not a songbird.”

Ivhir looked chagrined. “She is a bird of prey, if you ask Esus. And she can strike more quickly and effectively than I expected.”

Miryil raised an eyebrow, giving him a piercing look.

Erech sipped his tea looking very interested. “Should I get this story from Esus?”

Ivhir laughed and shook his head. “I mocked her size. And she had me on the ground with a knife to my throat before I realized she was a threat.” He looked at Erech meaningfully, “A knife she still has. You might see if you can get it from her without her noticing.”

Miryil looked at the tall man with surprise. “You couldn’t take it from her?”

He half smiled at the woman in the Anyk guardsman’s armor. “I didn’t try. Your armor is missing a star, by the way. It looks like it was pried out, possibly used for payment.”

Miryil felt her face begin to burn. “And my horse?”

Ivhir shrugged. “She can’t speak, only sing.”

“Can she write?” The furious Light Bringer asked pointedly.

Erech grinned into his tea.

Miryil stormed up to the mirador; Ivhir and Erech were hunting for paper and a charcoal pencil. She paused as she stood just below the threshold of the open hatch. Soft indistinct singing… but it wasn’t a woman’s voice. She peered over the edge cautiously. Esus was standing looking over the parapet and the girl was sitting almost at his feet with her back against it, her head tilted back sleepily as he sang. It sounded like one of the melodies he hummed to his birds, she hadn’t known there were words to it.

“Found it Miryil!” Ivhir called loudly up startling the three of them, Esus and the girl looked at her as if she had intruded on something private. The girl was angry, and Esus was embarrassed. Miryil climbed up with a look of annoyance.

“I want to know where my things are. Where my horse is. And who you gave a star from my armor to.” Miryil’s voice was sharp.

The girl grinned wolfishly, unrepentant. She shrugged her shoulders and opened her hands.

“You will tell me.” Miryil spoke with determination as Ivhir brought up paper and a charcoal pencil.

The girl broke into song. One the Light Bringers were familiar with, but it wasn’t exactly as it should have been. It was the song of the gods’ falling out with the god of thieves and fools but this version made the wretch seem as though he’d gotten the last laugh.

“Blasphemy won’t get you out of answering.” Miryil hissed as she finished her song, glaring at Ivhir and gesturing for him to hand the paper and pencil to the girl instead of to her. “Write. Where is my horse? My sword? The missives and my things? And who did you give the star from my armor to?” Miryil crouched and glared directly in front of her.

The girl looked her in the eyes and grinned before shaking her head. She put the paper on the floor and wrote. New owners, don’t know. New owners, don’t know. Burned. New owners, don’t know. The King of Fools.

Miryil read it furiously. “You sold or gave away my horse and my things and burned the missives.”

The girl nodded, unashamed.

“And you gave a star from my armor to the King of Fools?”

She grinned and nodded emphatically.

“There have been rumors of a shrine along the Oryr Road, but we’ve never been able to find it.”  Ivhir crouched next to Miryil. “Where is it? Write it down.”

The girl shook her head slowly and defiantly.

“We can make you write it.” Miryil smiled mirthlessly.

The girl looked her in the eye and took hold of a finger of her writing hand, she wrenched it sideways, twisting as she did, and the finger made a sickening sound as the joint came apart. She shuddered and a song of battle and a glorious death spilled out into the night.

Esus hissed at the other Light Bringers, “Get back. She’s not going to tell you what you want to know.” He took her hand by the wrist and began to murmur, moving his hands upward until he had passed over the finger and left it as it should be, straightened once more.

Miryil knew it would still be sore after a break like that, but it was healed. Esus was skilled. And he was right, if she was willing to break her own fingers to keep her secrets they wouldn’t be able to compel her. The more compelling question now was why the goddess of song would bless a worshipper of the King of Fools.