Sixty-four

Cyran marvelled at the place his grandfather called home. Every surface shone with gold like the sun and the silken draperies in white and gold were decadent and beautiful. It was what he’d always imagined the home of a god should look like.

“Grandfather, your home… I am honored to be brought here.”

Odos laughed quietly, “You can tell he belongs to my brother, my children would be looking for things to put in their pockets.”

Atos smiled warmly, “We should visit your little rook. I will let you keep her from putting things in her pockets.”

His awe turned to dismay as he followed the two gods through a doorway into a stone tower with no door. It looked inescapable… except for the ragged gaping hole in the roof.

“Where is she?” Atos looked stunned and Odos started to laugh.

“Father, the only way to keep my Rook in one place is to hold onto her yourself. She prides herself on it.”

“How did she reach the roof?” Cyran pointed to the hole.

“By being determined and half elf.” Odos sounded proud. “She found the one weak part of the prison… How secure is your stone, Father?” 

“The room is impenetrable. The door will not open for any but me. There is no window, only the crystal dome that cannot be cracked, or moved, and the light from it protects the stone. Any hand but mine that reaches for it will burn.”

“She’ll find a way, Father. Imos had her advising him on ways a thief could enter his temples and he was always amazed at the ways she found and the things she suggested. All a clever thief needs is time.”

Atos narrowed his eyes. “Come, see for yourself. She should be easy to find from the dome.” 

He opened another door and this time when Cyran went through he knew in an instant that his cousin had already found this place as well. 

“No…” Atos looked stunned as he approached the shaft of light and empty pedestal. A melted gold sun from one of the walls was wrapped in a charred silk drape and discarded on the floor.

Odos was marveling at a hole high on the wall. “She didn’t need a door, she made her own.”

“She cannot leave this place.” Atos was scowling and holding his hands clenched, “She knows she cannot open a door.”

Cyran cleared his throat carefully, “You said she would be easy to see from the dome?”

In an instant, he was following Atos up stairs that had sprung from nothing and led up into the crystal dome serving as a roof. The movement along the wall caught his eye.

“There!” He pointed to the figure now leaning to look over the edge of the wall.

“ROOK!” 

Atos’ raised voice rang painfully in his ears and he covered them as he watched the figure of the woman on the wall look as if she were laughing and then… She stepped up and leapt. 

“NO!” Odos placed his hands on the clear dome in front of him and then struck it with his palm, “Father!”

“The door can only be opened on the ground, when she tries I will bring her back here.” He sounded angry but when Cyran looked at him the King of the gods was staring at the point Syreilla had jumped with a look of growing concern. “Why would she leap? She could not hope to land unscathed.”

“She’s fearless, Father. She…” Odos covered his face.

“She was laughing as she leapt.” Cyran rubbed his still ringing ears. “How far is it to the ground?”

“Did you tell her that the door can only be opened on the ground?” Atos turned to give his son a searching look.

“No, Father. I hadn’t intended her to steal from you. I offer her guidance through the stone I lent her, I’ve offered her none here. Her escape, the theft… all of it was done with her own wits and luck. She’s the finest of the thieves I’ve trained, the cleverest of my fledgelings…”

“Uncle,” Cyran glanced at the two stunned looking gods, “I don’t think she’s a fledgeling any longer.”

Odos breathed a laugh, “No, my little rook told me she knew how to spread her wings.”

“You sound proud of the little beast.” 

Atos’ low tone sounded dangerous and when he turned, Cyran saw the same flame in his eyes as he’d seen in Syreilla’s.

“Father, she isn’t a little beast and I can’t help but feel the same pride in her that you feel in me even when I’ve done something wrong.” Odos held his hands up placatingly.

“Your eyes burn like hers do when she’s furious, Grandfather.”

When Atos turned his displeased gaze to Cyran the flames flickered out. “Hers burn like mine.”

“I’m sorry that she damaged your home and stole from you, Grandfather. When she comes to know you, she will feel remorse. At your temple, I spoke to a priest and when I spoke of my cousin he understood how she is immediately. She can be as soft and gentle as the rays of the spring sun and as relentless and harsh as-”

His grandfather lifted his hand, “-as harsh as the sun in the desert.”

“Yes. When she softens toward you-”

Atos waved his hand and smiled faintly for a moment, “I will have to soften toward her first.” His eyes closed and he shuddered. The faint smile turned back into a scowl.

“I’ll take young Cyran, if you’ll allow me to, Father.”

“Go.” 

As Atos turned away, Odos grabbed him, pulling Cyran from the domed tower to an overgrown garden in what looked like a badly neglected temple.

“That could have gone better but it could have gone far worse. My little rook will come here if she was successful, I’m sure of it. That shudder may very well have been from my uncle’s hand touching their stone.” 

“Their stone?”

“It belongs to both of them, they shared it, day and night, life and death. We call them brothers but they began as one god and they have one stone.”

“Grandmother did nothing wrong.” Cyran blinked at him. “If they were the same-”

“They had already separated and she chose to be with my father, she knew them as brothers. Father is considered the King of the gods because he was the first, Hevtos was second. Then came the eldest two of the elven gods, the clever boy, and Bone White, and then the three dwarven gods.”

“How…” The thought of gods coming from somewhere and not always having been there made his mind boggle. “How did the gods come to be?”

“Your grandfather would enjoy teaching you, but if it takes him too long to cool his temper, I wrote all of the stories and explanations he’s given and I have them in my library. I can take you to my home and teach you how to read it all for yourself. I need to teach both you and my daughter how to-”

Vezar Edra stepped into the temple with a grim expression and Odos looked stunned. Cyran thought he saw a hint of fear as he nearly pounced on the man.

“Syreilla, did she survive?”