Seventy-two

Helping her gather all of the stones except for the largest onto one of the black display boards made of basalt, Vezar tried not to think about why she smelled of dwarf. No reason would matter as long as she would come home and be close to him again.

“I may need to make two trips.” Syreilla surveyed the black stone board and shook her head. “That’s too large for me to carry. I’ll take them without the board.”

“I can carry it.” The piece was unwieldy but not unbearably heavy.

“Are you sure?” She frowned at the board and then at him.

“I am. Your dragon is not so weak, Syreilla.”

For a moment he thought she would protest but she inclined her head and gestured for him to take it. Gritting his teeth with the effort, he lifted it and followed behind her. A table had been readied for it and he placed it with relief. Looking up, he felt his blood run cold. Rielle was there smiling like the sun as if she hadn’t tried to destroy him and cost him his treasure.

“I don’t think she could seduce him a second time even if she tried, little rook.” 

Odos’ amused tone made him realize he was glowering at the elven goddess and he averted his eyes. The dwarf they fell on didn’t make him feel less like glowering. 

“Anyone who can steal this much from us shouldn’t be permitted to roam freely!” Silfeya snapped as Mabor snatched his blue stone from the board.

Syreilla stretched her arms over her head with a grin. “When I’m set to a task I try not to disappoint.”

“How many wives do you have, Master Fellforger?” Odos asked abruptly.

“How is that your concern, Master Odos.” The emphasis the dwarf put on Master felt like an insult but Odos shrugged with a smile.

“You asked my daughter to become a Fellwife and I once heard a dwarf jest that if he didn’t love one woman enough he could have as many as Orsas and as many children as there are Nightforged.”

“He’ll pay for that twice, once for the jest and again for making it in your hearing.” The dwarf god’s scowl somehow made his dark eyes look as if a hint of red ember burned behind them.

Syreilla put a hand on her hip, “Orsas! If I didn’t mind sharing I’d have stayed to watch Vezar with the elf w***e and given her advice on the things he enjoys.”

Rielle made an indignant sound and flushed as she came forward to snatch her milky lavender gem from the board. It took a great deal not to smile at her displeasure.

“None of my wives would be watching or giving advice.” The dwarf tilted his chin up and began to grin as Syreilla turned her mischievous smile on him. “I swing my hammer well enough and you’re a quick one.”

“I bet you do swing it well, and having Hammersworn so close reminded me of how much we enjoyed skillful dwarvish hammering.” She laughed as the dwarven god’s face flushed and came to kneel in front of him, “But as much fun as it could be, I don’t share, Orsas. You can add greedy and selfish to my list of faults if you like, those traits skipped my father and came to me directly from Grandfather.” Syreilla glanced up at Atos, who was watching with faint amusement, and wrinkled her nose at him. 

Fellforger sighed and touched her face, “Come to my forge, Syreilla. I can see the blade I want to make for you and I can see you’ve already earned it.”

Vezar realized his hands were in fists and closed his eyes as his treasure leaned in as if to kiss the dwarf, the sound of his own blood pulsing in his ears drowned out anything else for a moment.

He heard another loud sigh from the stumpy creature, “What a wife you would have been.”

Feeling a hand on his arm, Vezar opened his eyes and saw the subtle nod Odos gave him as he passed by to take two stones.

“I’ll take Imos’ stone to him. He and I need to have a talk about my fledglings and I hope I’ll have the use of your Rook if anyone tries to interfere with them again, Uncle?” 

“If she has not been set to another task.” Hevtos beckoned and Syreilla came to stand next to him. “Though I suspect she would do both at once.”

“And be sour at the reason she was being overburdened.” Odos broke into a grin, “The Golden Rook in a bad mood will make anyone think twice.” He turned to one of the elven gods, “How is your priest, Ruthaerion?”

“He’s gone mad and believes he has no legs despite being able to see and touch them.” The elf took the brilliant red gem from the board. “That should not be possible.”

“If Agust No-Legs could live his life and even train other mages-”

“Undo it.” Atos frowned and pointed to the elf, “That is a command.”

“Grandfather, if I knew how, I would. I was casting a ward I learned from Zylius that would have left him with legs that were both frostbitten and burned-” She paused as there were horrified gasps, “In my defense, I wasn’t in a good mood and he was attacking me. But he tripped it in the split second before it was finished. That must have been how Zylius did the same to Agust.”

“It cannot be dispelled?” Atos tilted his head.

“After it’s been tripped… Yes and no. All dispelling it does is prevent it from harming whoever tries to help him, it doesn’t touch the damage done. These wards are particularly nasty.”

“Why would you seek to learn such things?” Zyulla looked aghast.

For once, Syreilla seemed embarrassed, pointing at Odos, “He sent me to Zylius!”

“Odos!” Zyulla’s horrified tone made the god cover his face and begin to laugh.

“Mother, I wanted to give her the best education I could and the most skilled mages are vicious. I’ll introduce you to my magpie as an apology.”

“If you are selfish, my Rook, it is not all from your grandfather.” Hevtos’ gaze could have frozen water. “The Garden of Night will be reopened soon. Send your priest to me, Ruthaerion, perhaps Agust No-Legs can help him regain some sanity.” 

“I will. Being in a poor mood is no excuse, Rook.” The elf glowered, drawing himself up. 

Syreilla tilted her head and met his gaze unrepentantly.

“This Magpie…” Rielle sounded speculative, “He’s another of yours, Odos?”

“Did you miss the part where he said I get to go after anyone interfering with my siblings, you kni-”

“Enough.” Hevtos made a gesture and Syreilla stopped though the expression on her face said she was ready to resume her dwarvish cursing and possibly draw blood if he relented.

“I’m not giving away any more of my fledglings, Rielle. He’s a thief and he is my son.”

“He’s half elf.” The goddess smiled smugly.

“I used to make it a point to hit the temples of Imos whenever I passed one.” Syreilla’s lips peeled back in a wide smile that looked more like an animal baring its teeth as her eyes flickered with flame. “You go near the Magpie or any of my siblings and I will visit your temples every time I leave Uncle’s realm. And when you give up and stop trying to keep even a single candle stick in your temples I’ll start on every building near it until no one will build a single thing or even make a camp within a hundred miles of your temples.”

“To do that they would have to…” Her eyes widened and she looked to Atos in horror. “She is threatening to have me driven out!”

Vezar could have sworn the King of gods tried to suppress a smile, “Then perhaps you should leave the children of Odos to their father. Your daughter does have my temper, Odos.”

“She takes after you a great deal, Father.”

Vezar was certain Atos smiled as the god glanced at the Rook. “So I see. I was told she breathes dragon’s fire?”

Syreilla shifted her gaze and her face softened, “I mix it, Grandfather, and blow across it to wake it. It’s beautiful. I have everything I need if you want to see-” 

Atos held out his hand with a brilliant dancing flame in the palm. “Come and take it, child. I gave you no gift at your birth…” 

Vezar watched as Syr came forward in awe and held out her hands cupped to take the flame her grandfather poured into them. For a moment he thought she looked tearful. 

“Grandfather… This-this is mine?” 

Atos laughed softly, “Yes, Syreilla. It will come when you call it and go when you tire of it.”

She closed her hands tentatively and it extinguished, flaming back to life seconds later as she beamed down at it.

“You could even breathe it if you wished.” The god sounded as if he were teasing her and she broke into laughter extinguishing the flames and throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thank you!”

“You’re rewarding her for her behavior?!” Rielle drew herself up haughtily. “I hope you don’t expect the rest of us to give her gifts.”

The look Atos gave could have cracked a wall and the elven goddess flinched.

“I never expect gifts.” Syreilla stood next to Atos bringing the fire to hand once more and smiling at it. “I’ve never gotten many but I cherish them when they’re given to me.”

“What gift did your father give you?” Atos asked curiously as he stroked her hair.

“An education.” Her grin to Odos was impish and made Vezar’s heart ache with the desire to have it directed at him. “And the luck to survive it.”

“A poor gift.” Atos frowned at his son.

“Not at all, Grandfather, I wouldn't be the Golden Rook without it.”

Odos inclined his head with a smile. Before he could speak, Hevtos gave a quiet command, “It is time to return, there is work to be done. Vezar, my Golden Rook…” 

“Coming, Uncle.” Syreilla beamed and extinguished the flames playing across her fingers before rising on her toes to give Atos a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you, Grandfather.”

Vezar lifted the now empty display board and silently carried it through the doorway being held open. He lay it back in its former position and placed his palms on the table. His Syreilla was a goddess now in her own right and he was still… 

“I would have you design a chamber for this, Syreilla.” Hevtos sounded pleased as he walked past. “When I have finished using it I would have it housed safely in the Garden of Night.”

“If I could make a small suggestion, Uncle? Perhaps-” 

“You would have me put it in a place of Atos’ choosing?” His tone made the room a little cooler.

“No, I was going to suggest creating a Garden of Twilight.” Syreilla was playing with the fire between her fingers idly as she looked at the large stone. “A place you could both reach for its power but few people could go. Perhaps a few select priests if absolutely necessary. I can-”

“He would take it.”

“Not if he isn’t allowed there any more than you are, Uncle.” Her smile was vicious, “I’ll borrow a few of your dead mages to learn some new tricks from and make the place the stone is put as inaccessible as I can. Suggest it to Grandfather. You can rely on a Rook, Uncle.”