Chương 17: Idol, Part 6

The eyes of the guards not participating in the orgy darted to the door Morne was guarding.

The priestess and her mates were too deep in the throes of passion to notice, but the others turned serious.

"I'll check it out," Morne said. "Stay here and guard the priestess."

"Take Anthem with you," one of the other two guards insisted. "We don't need five people in this room to guard one, and you're far too inexperienced to handle this yourself."

Morne accepted the offer with a nod, swearing inwardly.

This complicated things.

Anthem stepped carefully around the bed and opened the door slowly, allowing Morne to step in after he drew his sword from its scabbard.

Anthem slipped in behind him and shut the door, drawing his own sword as he did so.

The two turned, scanning the room with narrowed eyes.

This room appeared to be a shrine. It was just as large as the bedroom and lacked the plants and insects found everywhere else in the temple.

The floor and walls were smooth gray stone, and at the back was an elaborate altar made from a small, still-living tree.

Writing was inscribed all over the bark, and many small platforms jutted out from the branches to hold lit candles. A stone tablet leaned against the bark, an image of a leafy circle impressed on it.

Above this tablet, on a section of wood like a lopped-off branch, was the Idol of Pernecia.

To the left of this altar was the window, a gorgeous work of stained glass that showed a majestic tree amid a grassy field.

Or at least, that's what it would have looked like. Right now, there was a gaping hole in the middle, and glass littered the ground. Broken from the outside.

The intruder was nowhere to be found.

"Was it just the wind?" Morne asked.

"Or we have a Mage that got ahold of an invisibility Spell," growled Anthem. "Stay near the door; don't let him slip through."

Morne stepped back to the door, placing both hands on the hilt of his sword as he kept watch for whoever was in here.

Anthem started muttering, his free hand starting to glow as he raised it.

He pivoted on his heel, keeping his arm extended with the palm out as his magic worked its way into the air, spreading invisibly.

Just as he was about to make a complete 180, a glint a few feet away caught his eyes and he pointed his palm in that direction, readying his sword.

Green light pulsed in the air, slowly taking the form of a man in thin black clothes and a dark scarf around his face. Anger flashed across this man's brow when he realized he had been exposed.

The next three seconds were a blur.

Foregoing stealth entirely, the intruder lunged forward, a dagger appearing in his hand.

He rolled under Anthem's swing with ease, slicing through the chainmail and into the guard's hip on the way before jumping to his feet and burying his knife in the other man's neck.

Blood gurgled from Anthem's mouth as his sword fell to the ground in a clatter.

"Mo…rne…" he said through the blood. "Kill… him…"

But Morne ignored the man, striding over to the altar and snatching the Idol from its perch.

The fading light in Anthem's eyes seemed to make a resurgence, spitting fire for a brief moment as he understood that they had been betrayed.

But even this fury was snuffed out with a twist of the intruder's dagger, and Anthem's lifeless corpse dropped to the ground with the loud clang of metal hitting stone.

"Remember," the intruder said, his voice steady and even, "You owe me half."

"I didn't forget," Morne said, tossing him the Idol. "Just leave before they check in on us. You only have a few seconds."

He had asked this man during their conversation a few nights about the "no killing" clause of the contract.

The answer he received was that so long as Morne's hands remained clean, it wouldn't count against him. It was just considered collateral.

And since this cultist wasn't a part of the specific contract Morne held, his murdering of Anthem wouldn't impact the pay Morne received.

The cultist's contract had no such stipulation, leaving him free to do whatever he considered necessary to get the job done.

This was likely because the higher-ups thought the chances of him engaging in combat were slim, to begin with. And if that point was reached, the man's life would almost definitely be on the line.

The cultist of Jiklok caught the Idol and stowed it within a bag that appeared far too small to hold it before he dove out of the hole in the window.

Morne didn't waste time, tilting his wrist and slashing his stomach with his sword until he drew blood. He hissed at the pain, but didn't stop until it looked believable.

Then he smeared his own blood along his blade to make it less obvious that he had stabbed himself, before taking a deep breath.

The door slammed open and the guards rushed in, including the three that had been otherwise engaged.

All four held their swords at the ready, the priestess standing behind them with her arms crossed and an angry look.

The fact that only her chest fur was still on didn't seem to bother her as her green eyes went from Anthem's still-warm corpse to the window, and then to Morne.

Morne's gaze was locked onto Anthem's face, utter shock on his features.

"He… he killed him," Morne said, allowing bafflement and horror to color his voice.

"What did you do?" the priestess asked.

"I—what?"

"You've broken your oath. What did you do?" the priestess repeated in a growl.

Morne blinked rapidly. She could tell?

He opened his mouth to rebut, but was silenced by the priestess' glare.

"Not even a week, and you've exposed your true colors," she said. "Now you have blood on your hands and sin in your heart. And where is my Idol? Don't tell me all of this was just to get your hands on it."

His ruse discovered, Morne planted his feet and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't about to go down without a fight.

But his courage was pointless, as with a whispered word from the priestess his joints locked up like stone.

"Take him to a cell," snapped the woman, "I'll deal with him later."

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