Notes: 1) If you see
this
version of the story anywhere other than Literotica it isn't supposed to be there. 2) Because of shorter chapters, this is being posted in chunks.
*****
*Sixty-one*
The elf with unsettlingly large eyes of bizarrely indeterminate color stared back at her and tilted its head slightly. Syreilla nearly jumped when she realized he was imitating her.
"Get to know each other later." Odos had a hand over his face as she glanced at him. "Little Rook, this is Finwion. If you've heard any of the old elven stories of the clever boy, this is who they were talking about."
"I've never heard any."
The elf made a peculiar gasping sound and even Odos looked surprised.
"You never told any elvish stories, old man, and the only story I heard as a small child was how I was a horrible hideous wretch for not being a boy and that it was my fault the elf wanted nothing to do with my mother." She gave the appalled elf creature an apologetic glance, "I'm not fond of elves. They've always either shunned me, mistreated me, or left me to those who would." Exhaling, she added, "I'll make the effort to get along with you as long as you don't act like the rest of them."
Finwion frowned and started wagging his finger at Odos.
"My uncle scolded me as well." The old man's hazy grey eyes narrowed, but he still looked vaguely amused, "I've been trying my best to repair the damage, haven't I?"
She shrugged slightly, borrowing her face and upsetting those she loved didn't feel like he was trying to repair anything but Hammersworn whispered pointedly that up until then, there had been moments it had seemed like he might have been trying. "Repairing a thing doesn't unbreak it and people aren't things. Forgiveness doesn't come easily to me, but I do love you, old man, and I'm trying. Hammersworn may have gotten the softer parts."
"Motherhood helped her to forgive a great deal." His face softened into a sad smile. "We all have our tasks. Go with Finwion, listen to his advice, and don't be rude."
He vanished as she sighed and glanced at the elf, "You realize he could have asked me not to get into mischief and it would be just as easy as not being rude, yes?"
The elf grinned and beckoned to her, offering a hand and holding open a doorway. Taking it, she held onto it with a firm grip and followed him through. They came out on the other side at the thinning edge of a forest near what looked like a palace. Balconies on the outer walls and what looked like silken banners hung from the sides.
The elf tugged his hand away and rubbed it giving her a reproachful look. She mouthed 'sorry' at him and began assessing the wall. Smooth, but with those long banners and the slope of it... apparently the elf wanted to start with the easiest of the temples.
Finwion tugged at her sleeve and pointed deeper into the trees. Syr followed curiously. Perhaps he wanted to wait until it was dark. With a place this easy to get into she was certain she didn't need to but... He led her to a falling down gate around a spring and mimed diving in.
Keeping her voice low, she shook her head and argued, "Those walls would be so easy to get up I could rob this place with one eye and both hands tied behind my back, going in that way would be tricky and dangerous."
The elf put on a sour face and began acting as if he were arguing bitterly with someone, arms flailing.
"Fine, fine. Your rules." She grinned at him as he looked at her dubiously. "I need to shake the dust off of my feathers anyway."
Eying the water, she took off her outer layers and most of her kit, tucking them into her bag. The gem she looped around her neck the way that Kyrilla had shown her. Before she could jump the fence, Finwion shook his finger and mimed taking all of her clothes off. Syreilla stared at him.
He pointed to the palatial temple, according to his gestures, inside would be pretty women in nothing or nearly nothing. The gist of his idea dawned on her.
"You want me to go in through the baths, naked."
Tapping her jewel, he seemed to think she could keep that on.
Syr had to take a moment to compose herself, opening her mouth to speak and then closing it, taking a few steps away. Being naked around elves was the stuff of nightmares. Gritting her teeth, she resolved to break the fingers of the first person who tried to lay a hand on her. She wasn't helpless, not anymore. Exhaling, she stretched and focused on the task at hand. Get in, get the gem, get out. There was more at stake than just the stones.
Finwion was looking at her with concern when she turned back around. She gestured for him to back up and finished taking off her clothes and kit. Going in with nothing but the gem felt too wrong but the memory of Hammersworn's pouch tied to her leg popped into Syreilla's mind. She took a few of the smaller tools, stowing them in a thin cloth pouch used mostly for quieting things slipped into pockets and tucked it all into her mouth. In moments, she was over the gate and in the frigid water.
With the chained gem, her way was lit as if she had a guide, the most difficult part was holding her breath and keeping moving for so long. Her lungs burned and stars were bursting in her vision by the time she came up gasping in the palace's cistern.
Taking a moment to wring her hair out after she'd heaved herself from the water, Syr followed the path that illuminated in front of her. She found herself in a chamber holding pipes and an oven that seemed to heat the water that must go into the baths. Her path led to the oven but she tested the door regardless, finding it locked. Putting out the fire might lure someone in.
It went out easily with a trick Orefinder had shown her, a less heavy-handed version of the spell she'd used to extinguish the flames on the burning dwarf. Syreilla placed a holding ward where she expected someone would need to stand to either inspect or relight it.