by Raymond Cain
“Let’s go in here,” Lycia said, indicating a tall structure next to them. Spired towers were built into each corner of the square building and a twenty-foot statue of a broad-shouldered azuran stood out front. The statue wielded a long staff adorned with skulls. Flynn took a closer look at the skulls—they were real, not carved.
Kylara gasped when she looked up at the statue. “We can’t go in there.”
“We don’t have time to argue about it,” Tasker said. “Theoric and his men are nearly upon us. Let’s go.”
Flynn, Tasker, and Lycia hurried past the statue and burst into the temple, while Kylara reluctantly followed behind. A group of people wearing dark clothing entered the temple a moment earlier, and they dropped coins into a large brass collection bowl by the main doors. When it was Flynn’s turn to donate, he picked up a handful of coins inside the bowl and dropped them, creating the clattering sound of a donation. None of the other temple patrons seemed to notice.
When they stepped inside, the air was thick with the smell of smoke and incense. A ring of human skulls lined the walls where they met the ceiling. Many of the skulls had glowing crimsonite eyes, bathing the temple in a menacing red hue. It pained Flynn to see the precious mineral he desired for his other sword was once common enough to be used to light temples.
The temple appeared larger on the inside than it did on the outside. A wide aisle flanked by pews dominated the wide chamber, and more than one-hundred azurans were seated there. A black stone font containing dark liquid was situated a few steps past the main doors, and the patrons ahead took turns drinking using a stone cup perched on a dais. When it was Flynn’s turn, he dipped the cup into the foul-looking liquid and pretended to drink.
An aged, black-robed azuran with a face tattooed to resemble a skull stood at the back of the room. A stained-glass window depicting the image of the statue in front of the church dominated the wall behind him, and a black stone altar lay before him. His voice was crisp, like crumbling parchment, and the altar held a black jewel larger than a man’s fist. Reinforced stone doors were located at each corner of the building, leading to the spires. Tapestries depicting azuran armies in battle hung along the walls and behind the priest stood a stained-glass window, bearing an image of an azuran male in black plate mail emblazoned with skulls.
Tasker placed the heavy sack on the floor and whispered in Kylara’s ear, too softly for the patrons to hear. “Why didn’t you want to come in here?”
“The statue outside,” Kylara replied, “I recognize the likeness. It’s King Mordakai, and this is his temple.”
Lycia’s jaw dropped and she clamped it shut. “So everyone in this temple worships Mordakai as though he were a god, and you were the one that killed him.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“It’s not just the ones in this temple that worship him,” Kylara said in a hushed tone. “I noticed more statues of Mordakai amidst the streets and buildings. I think the whole city worships him.”
“That’s just great,” Lycia said, shaking her head in irritation. “We’re stuck in a city of azurans and our guide is their most hated enemy.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Flynn said, “It’s not like anyone here was around five-hundred-years ago to recognize her.”
“They don’t need to be,” Kylara said, and she pointed out two head statues perched on white pedestals in one corner of the room. They were perfect likenesses of Kylara and Gideon.
Lycia rolled her eyes. “Wonderful.”
“Okay, yeah,” Flynn said, “This could be a problem. But it doesn’t change things much. We’d be hunted anyway.”
“Just keep your head down,” Tasker whispered. “And stay quiet.”
At that moment, one of the reinforced doors leading into one of the spires opened. A priest in a black robe with the cowl pulled low over his face approached them. His face was hidden in shadow but a silver necklace adorned with a skull hung down to his navel. He patted other worshippers on the shoulders as he walked by, but he stopped when he reached Flynn and the others.
“What are you doing here?” the priest asked, staring hard at Flynn.
Flynn’s stomach felt like it was full of rocks. “I…uh…”
“You’re from the brothel? You’re a day early, and we’re not paying for whores we didn’t ask for,” the priest continued. “Especially the one with the sack. I’ve seen trolls more attractive than her.”
Thinking fast, Flynn was struck by inspiration. “There’s no need for payment. These whores are free. They’re terrible at sex and haven’t been making us any money, so we thought the fine priests here could teach them a thing or two.” After regarding Tasker, he added, “The ugly one is just here to carry stuff.”
The priest pulled back his cowl, revealing a bald head tattooed with long wavy lines reminiscent of tendrils of black smoke. He stared lewdly at Kylara and Lycia, eyeing them up from head to toe.
“Oh yes,” the priest said with a vulgar smile, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “We can certainly teach these ladies a thing or two. I’ll have someone bring them back when we’re through with them.”
“Excellent,” Flynn replied, earning himself a concerned look from Tasker and shocked looks from the ladies.
“What are those for?” The priest indicated the linen-wrapped staves tucked under Kylara’s arm.
“She likes it rough,” Flynn said, holding back a grin.
“So do I,” the priest replied, smiling lewdly.
Kylara kept her eyes low and gingerly touched the man’s arm. She squeezed his bicep and smiled, evilly. “If you like it rough, then you’re going to love me.”
The priest nodded and Flynn cringed at the thought of what would soon happen to the man. A part of him actually felt sorry for the azuran.
“Those won’t be necessary,” the priest said, indicating Kylara’s staves. “We have our own upstairs. Leave those with your pimp.”
Kylara reluctantly handed her staves to Flynn and his heart sank. She was a force to be reckoned with when she had her weapons, but disarming her was another story. He nodded at her reassuringly, but concern ate away at him.
The priest grabbed Kylara and Lycia by the backs of their necks and pushed them toward the stairs. Flynn and Tasker followed them, and the man shut the door in their faces. The c-chnk sound of a sliding bolt reverberated through the door, but Flynn tried the latch anyway. It didn’t budge.
Tasker grabbed Flynn by the arm. “What are you doing? How could you do that to them?”
“Keep your voice down, miss,” Flynn replied, subtly reminding his brother to keep up pretenses. “Those two are the most powerful women I’ve ever met. I feel sorry for anyone who tries to take advantage of them. They should be fine. I think.”
“That still doesn’t explain why you pushed them off on that priest in the first place.”
“I needed to come up with a reason to bring whores in here, and that’s the first one that came to mind. Plus, those two are resourceful. They might be able to turn the situation into some kind of advantage.”
Tasker glared. “You’re taking too many risks. For all we know, they’re being tortured into giving us up right now.”
Flynn shook his head. “I know Kylara and Lycia. If there’s any screaming coming from behind that door, it won’t be from those two.”
“Even when Kylara doesn’t have her staves?” Tasker said, nodding toward the linen-wrapped weapons tucked under Flynn’s armpit.
That gave Flynn pause. “That will make things harder for them but, like I said, they’re resourceful. Lycia still has her rings and the men in there are priests, not warriors.” He tried to sound confident but there was a hint of concern to his voice. Deep down, he knew his brother was right. He shouldn’t have placed the ladies in such a dangerous situation.
A broad-shouldered azuran in black robes marched toward them. He was nearly a head taller than Flynn was and a silver chain bearing a medallion emblazoned with King Mordakai’s head hung ar
ound the man’s neck. Metal clattered with every step he took, indicating chain mail under his robe, and there was a bulge at his hip that could only be a sword or mace. The warrior-priest shouldered past them and unlocked the door with a silver key. He glanced over his shoulder at Flynn and Tasker, then entered the spire. He slammed the door and bolted it shut.
“Just priests, not warriors?” Tasker said.
Flynn’s stomach felt like it was twisting into knots. “Well, what do you suggest we do?”
The latch wouldn’t turn and, after glancing around to ensure none of the other temple visitors were watching him, he rammed the door with his shoulder. It didn’t budge. Some of the azurans seated on the last few pews turned around and glared at him.
“You stupid wench,” Flynn said, slapping Tasker across the face. “You tripped me! Watch where you’re going.”
“Sorry, sir,” Tasker said in a female voice. Then, in a hushed tone he added, “If we get out of here I’m literally going to kill you.”
The temple’s main door opened and Tasker grabbed Flynn’s shoulder, turning him away.
“Don’t look,” Tasker said.
“Who is it?”
“Theoric and about half of his crew. And it looks like Gideon is with them, wearing a bone mask.”
“This day just keeps getting better and better,” Flynn said. “Any ideas?”
“Stay calm. He’s looking for a group of four armored humans, not two dressed as we are.”
As Theoric and his men entered the temple, the muffled sound of footsteps on the other side of the spire door signaled that someone was coming back down the stairs.
“Someone’s coming down,” Flynn whispered, gripping Kylara’s cloth-wrapped staves in one hand. “Maybe I can knock him out without anyone noticing.”
Tasker shook his head no and Flynn hesitated, wondering if he should simply do nothing and hope Theoric didn’t see through their disguises. After giving it some thought, he decided he needed to find a way into that spire. The two of them hardly appeared inconspicuous in the church, especially with the heavy sack slung over Tasker’s shoulder.
The door opened and a cloaked figure grabbed Flynn by the collar, pulling him inside. He was about to smash the person with the staves until he saw Kylara’s face under the hood. Tasker rushed into the room and Kylara shut the door behind them.
“What happened?” Flynn said.
Kylara put a finger to her lips, signaling them to be silent. She led them up the spiral staircase and into a room on the floor above. The body of a stocky azuran in chain mail armor was sprawled over an altar that had four shackles built into it. The walls were dominated with shelves laden with incense, candles, and scrolls. The stairs continued upward to the next higher level.
Lycia was next to the altar donning a priest’s cloak and she handed two more cloaks to Flynn and Tasker. “We ended up teaching them a thing or two.”
Flynn guessed the burly man on the altar was the warrior-priest that entered the room moments earlier. “Where did you get all the cloaks?”
“There were a few more priests upstairs,” Lycia replied.
“How did you kill them so quickly?” Tasker asked, grunting as he dropped the sack of armor.
Kylara let out an exasperated sigh. “Lycia’s magic did most of the work.”
“I bet it hurt to say that,” Lycia said, smirking.
“Since I was unarmed,” Kylara added, narrowing her eyes at Flynn and yanking free the staves tucked under his armpit. She unwrapped the weapons, slid one into a metal clip at her thigh, and pointed the other at the brawny azuran on the altar. Lines of crimsonite along the shaft glowed in her grip. “He was the only one that put up much of a fight. The others were scholars, not warriors.”
Flynn felt uneasy at the thought of murdering scholarly priests but his concerns were lessened when he remembered the bald priest’s comments about what they intended to do to his friends.
Kylara dumped out the linen sack and retrieved her armor, and Lycia did the same. “I’ll get changed upstairs,” she said.
Lycia brushed off some of the grime from her own armor. The waste they walked through was dried onto the leather and she wrinkled her nose. “Me too.”
“What about you, Tasker?” Flynn asked with a wry grin. “Are you going to stay with the whore outfit or are you going to put your old clothes back on?”
“I will kill you when we get home,” Tasker said as he changed out of the costume and slid his legs into his many-pocketed outfit.
Flynn chuckled and removed his velvet, azuran clothing. The swim in the lake removed most of the grime from the sewer, but his armor still smelled terrible. After strapping on the breastplate, vambraces, and gauntlets, he ran his hands over the overlapping layers of leather and took comfort in the protection they afforded. He was about to scrape dried muck off the crossed-tridents symbol on the breastplates, but decided to leave them concealed just in case. He removed his rapier from its scabbard and cleaned the blade off on the warrior-priest’s boots before returning it to his scabbard.
Flynn and Tasker donned their cloaks, and each had holes in the chest with blood and frost caked around the edges. They pulled their hoods over their faces as Kylara and Lycia came back down the stairs. The women tucked their hair under the back of the cloak and flipped the cowl up, concealing their faces in shadow.
“Azurans don’t have female priests,” Kylara said. “So I’ll keep my arms folded in front of me to hide the contours of my breasts. Fortunately, it shouldn’t be nearly as much of a problem for Lycia.”
Red and blue lights flared from the sleeves in Lycia’s cloak. Frost collected on her left sleeve and her right one started smoldering. After that insult, Flynn half-expected the two of them to fight to the death and he interjected before things became more heated. “I’ll take a look to see if Theoric and his men are still here.”
Fearing the sounds of explosions and screaming behind him, Flynn descended the stairs. He pulled his hood low over his face and opened the door. The worshippers remained on their pews and the aged priest appeared to have finished the service because he was sitting down with his eyes closed and head bowed. The worshippers formed a line in front of the altar and each member kissed their fingers and pressed them reverently on the black jewel before leaving the temple.
Flynn quietly closed the door and ascended the stairs. Kylara stood, unmoving, with her staves in hand while Lycia impatiently paced back and forth. Tasker was unrolling scrolls and reading them.
“People are leaving,” Flynn said. “We should be able to get out of here now.”
Kylara shoved her staves into the sleeves of her cloak but she was unable to fold her arms. She opened up the cloak and slid the weapons into her thigh clips instead. Lycia folded her fingers together and draped her sleeves over her hands, concealing them. Flynn wasn’t sure where Tasker put Stingray until he noticed a bulge by his right hip. As for his own sword, Flynn considered trying to hide it until he regarded the dead azuran warrior-priest on the altar. He sheathed the wide-bladed rapier in his swordbelt and made no attempt to conceal its presence.
“Are you three ready?” Flynn asked, and his companions nodded.
With their hoods low over their faces, it was difficult to tell which person was which. It was obvious which one was Tasker due to his height, but the only way he could tell the ladies apart was by the way Lycia had her hands clasped together and Kylara had her arms folded. But when they walked, it was easy to distinguish Lycia’s graceful stride from Kylara’s purposeful and steady gait. Kylara removed a key from the brawny azuran’s belt before following the others down to the main floor.
Flynn was the first out of the door. There were about ten worshippers remaining, most of whom were seated within the first few pews in the front. After the group exited the spire, Kylara inserted the key in the door and snapped it off in the lock.
“No one will get in there for a while,” she explained. “That should buy us time.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
When Flynn opened the temple’s main door, he stiffened. Gideon, Theoric, and the other pirates were grouped together on the street in front of the temple. Theoric was gesturing in different directions, and Flynn guessed the man was instructing his men to split up.
All the azurans focused their attention on Theoric but Gideon, clad in magekiller armor and a bone helm, was scanning his surroundings. The half-azuran’s hands rested on the hilts of his darksteel blades and when the man’s gaze turned toward the temple, the blue-tinged purple eyes behind that mask locked on Flynn. Gideon’s ice-cold gaze bored right through him.
Flynn stepped back inside and slammed the door closed. “Back,” he said, turning around. “Back away from the door. Now.”
“What’s going on?” Kylara asked, trying to peek over his shoulder.
Tasker, having a better view of the street than Kylara did, shifted uncomfortably. “Did they see you?”
“They shouldn’t have been able to,” Flynn replied, subconsciously pulling the hood of his cloak lower over his face. “But it felt like Gideon was staring right through me.”
“Let’s go back then,” Lycia suggested, and the four of them headed toward the altar.
Escaping by entering the spire might have been an option were it not for Kylara’s idea to disable the lock. They would simply have to join the worshippers and hope to avoid discovery. He was about to sit down at one of the pews at the back when the temple’s main door opened and the clip-clop of a dozen men’s booted footsteps entered.