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It seemed like a few hours now, Malik realized. He hadn't heard a word from Red or Sirja, not a sound to even indicate any movement. Very unsual. What he would have expected was Red's voice, the scratching of a quill on paper, shuffling, or Sirja's friendly tone. This was very odd.
Of course it was enough to rouse Malik's suspitions, so he walked down to the door and knocked with the knuckle of his index. "Red?" No answer. "Sirja? What's going on?" Still nothing. "Are you two ignoring me or something?" Absolute silence. "Alright, I'm coming in." He then pushed the door open to see no one inside. Only the secret door in the floor opened. Even Red's bag was missing.
He clenched his fist as he came to the conclusion that she ran away. But why? Was Sirja going after her? How did she know about the escape door? And where could she have gone? Grumbling to himself, he went to his room and equiped himself with a few throwing knives and a light sword before walking back to go down the passage. Before he even dropped in, his eyes caught sight of a note on the table. So he walked over and read it through.
Malik,
I can't stay here. We don't get along and I know I'm useless. Or at least I am with you. Sirja has brought out the best in me; I'm stronger and faster than I would be with you. He taught me more than you have and he understands me more. He has even promised me that I'll have my revenge on the traitor who had Akhdan killed. I don't need you, so don't come looking for me.
Red
So she did leave. He slapped the note back down on the table and glared at the passage before dropping down it. No matter what she wrote down, he wouldn't just let her run off. No, she was his responcibility. How could he even think to let her out of his sight for a few hours and think that she wouldn't pull this off. And Sirja? He thought he could trust him, but this? Was there only traitors among the Brotherhood now?
"I swear, you're going to wish you never wrote that when I'm through with you."
"Where are we going?"
Sirja looked back at me and smirked. "We're going to kill the traitor." Then his smirk faded to a frown. "We would be a lot closer if you hadn't taken the time to write that note."
I casted a smart ass grin. "What can I say? I feel the need to explain myself."
"You don't trust me." He guessed.
Far from it! I trusted him. And if I didn't then I wouldn't be going along with this. He wouldn't let anything happen to me, right? Right. I just didn't want to let someone worry. Though I think my note might not help. At least he knows what I think. "I do."
He then opened a door to a church and stepped inside. "He comes here every Sunday now. I suppose they converted the bastard."
I followed him inside and we came to a second large door. Behind it I could hear a man speaking in Latin and a bunch of people chime in "ahem" every so often. It reminded me of when I was so much younger. My mother took me to church then, but when I was seven, that came to an end. Since that all I truly believe is multiple lives, past and future ones, and spirits. That was all and it suited me well. But still, the feeling of a church held small memories of my childhood.
"We'll wait until the old man stops preaching before we make our move, alright?" Sirja planned.
"Okay." I agreed.