“We should have attacked when we had the chance,” Dathka spat. “If he escapes because of your overabundance of caution, I’ll?—”
I put my finger to my lips and internally whispered a thanks the Latro shut up. Then I pointed toward where I could faintly hear someone talking below.
Using the side pillars for cover, we crept closer to get a better look. The space a quarter corkscrew below was well lit by suspended light charms. There were wide, flat platforms with benches and shade upon them, spaced every so often along the climb for people sturdy enough to use this route to rest their legs, take in the sights, pray, or contemplate life. This one had a bronze statue of some saint in the middle, and around it were assembled about a dozen people. They were all dressed in similar grey robes, but from the wary separation, these were obviously two different groups.
The new bunch all appeared to be legitimate priests of some sort, though most were fairly young, and looked like they’d be capable in a fight. The one in the middle was ancient compared to the rest. Despite that, I didn’t think the staff he leaned on was for walking. Something warned me this older fellow had some serious magic on him. He had white hair and skin darker than Gaul Haddar’s, so the pale scars left on his face by the claws of some monster long ago really stood out. He was the one doing the talking.
“If you’ve wasted my time, Gerzog, you’ll be on your way back to the deadlands, only this time, it won’t be to torment the peasants, it’ll be as a ghost.”
The priests were armed too, and though no weapons had been drawn, nervous hands rested on hilts and wands.
Gerzog still held the box. “You know me, Father Orlogo, I keep my word.” He slowly opened the lid of the box, just thetiniest crack, just for a second, and even that was enough to scald the eyes of everyone present.
When I blinked away the purple blobs enough to see clearly again, the flash had caused some of the priests to pull their weapons, thinking it was some kind of trap, which caused the mercs to react in kind.
The old priest snapped, “Stand down, fools. Even the Tooth and Claw isn’t foolhardy enough to shed blood on holy ground.”
“I told you it was the real thing.” Gerzog set the box on the ground and stepped back from it. “That was a peek. If I opened it all the way, the whole city would think sunrise came early.”
“Then the Council would know it was here, and they’d send the watch to claim it, and neither of us would get what we want,” Orlogo said. “Keep that closed. I’m convinced.”
“You gonna break that thing open and take the Permanence, cleric?” the female merc asked. She had a thin, hideous face, and was bent like a hunchback beneath her borrowed robes. “Or are you gonna take this to your realm and hang this lamp atop your church like you’s got your very own sun?”
“What the faithful of Saint Ulmorn do with our rightful property doesn’t concern the likes of you, harpy.”
Gerzog showed his tusks. “It’s not yours yet.”
“Then let’s finish this transaction, so I never have to look upon your grotesque visage again.” Orlogo snapped his fingers, and two of his men picked up a chest and brought it forward. They set it between the two groups, near the feet of the bronze saint, and opened it, revealing the most coins I’d ever seen.
The mercenaries looked real excited about that. I would be too if I were them. That was more than enough money to buy out the contracts for every member of my family and then some. That was “bribe your way into any academy you want” money.
I got real close to Dathka so I could whisper in her ear, “I’ve got oneObscuraleft. I can pop it, then we grab the lamp andrun.” I would’ve loved to go for that chest full of Obols too, but there was no way I could carry both.
“You take the lamp. I made a vow to take Gerzog’s life.”
Good for her, but my saint wasn’t big on suicide. “Suit yourself. You’ll have seven or eight seconds of cover.”
I’d been so focused on treasure, and Dathka on revenge, that we’d not heard someone walking down the road, to spot us crouching suspiciously in the shadows behind a pillar. I turned around when this someone cleared his throat.
“Are you lost?” the black-clad paladin asked, rather loudly, as he illuminated us with a light charm strapped to his wrist. “Can I help you?”
A few things happened all at once.
Everyone looked our way.
Father Orlogo—probably being a man of some importance around here—began casually ordering the paladin to go away because this was none of his business.
Except Gerzog and his men saw me and Dathka, and the one who’d gotten de-eared by her earlier roared, “You!”and heedless of everything else, went for his pistol.
Which one of the priests who’d pulled his wand earlier clearly took as a threat, because he immediately started blasting.
It all went downhill from there!
Forty-Three
The bullet meant for Dathka spanged off the pillar in front of us, as the merc who fired it was engulfed in a cloud of flesh-dissolving acid. The resulting screaming and flailing drowned out any attempt by the senior priest or Gerzog to restore order, because then everybody was moving, shooting, or slinging spells at each other.
Those two groups had trusted each other even less than I’d thought!
