Sins 03 - Sins of Treachery

the men died at the hands of a possessed madman who fled alone with the book.
    Simon was transfixed at the vision but Gest seemed not to notice his brother’s inattention, shining his torch away from the bodies and toward the back of the cave. The light reflected in a sparkle down a dark tunnel leading away from the pillared area. Gest moved the light and it caught again, reflecting facets of brilliant colour.
    “Radio above,” he said, no longer focused on the wretched forms of the dead, but on the potential of riches beyond. “Tell them to wait while we investigate further. We mustn’t let anyone else see this, Si.”
    The visions dissipated with Gest’s interruption and Simon found himself obeying in a daze, walking to the mouth of the cave and radioing that they would report again in another hour. As he walked back through the cave of the dead, he tucked the book into his inner clothing, close to his heart, relishing the strength that he was drawing from its growing potency.
    In the second chamber, he found Gest examining one of the walls.
    “Look Si, these must be diamonds.” Gest turned, his face illuminated by the torchlight, eyes aflame with desire for limitless wealth. “This is where I rebuild my fortune.” He paused, clearly realizing his mistake. “Where we rebuild our fortune, brother. Together.”
    Simon nodded, moving closer to examine the gems embedded in the ice wall, for behind the shining stones, he could see a darker shadow in the shape of an altar. He sensed that was the true goal and he felt his excitement soar as he realized that the Great Work could indeed be finished. He would be the one to return the book to its rightful place and he would claim the reward beyond temporal riches, leaving the jewels to Gest’s greed.
    Simon reached for his pack and unhooked the pick-axe. He gripped the handle and hefted its weight, giving it a few swings to test the action.
    “Careful with that,” Gest said, his voice imperious.
    At his brother’s tone, Simon suddenly felt a desire for great physical strength, a need to turn his body into hard, powerful muscle. He was sick of being considered the studious weakling, disgusted with himself for allowing his brother’s dominance for too long. He ignored Gest and swung the axe heavily into the wall. The thud resounded through the chamber and Simon levered a hunk of the bejeweled ice to the floor where Gest started to break it into chunks with hammer and chisel, picking out the shining gems. They both removed their outer jackets, working up a sweat in the small cave with their labour.
    The pile of jewels soon grew larger on the floor and Gest started to fill his rucksack as Simon broke through into an alcove that looked to be carved by ancient human hands. He worked faster to claw away the remaining ice and soon revealed an altar of black stone, carved with mysterious symbols. There was an indentation in the middle, and Simon knew instinctively that the book should be laid there.
    “What is it?” Gest asked. “Do you think it’s worth anything?”
    Simon felt rage erupt within him at his brother’s disregard for the sacred, his unthinking selfishness. He turned in anger and Gest shrank back at Simon’s expression of hatred.
    “OK, OK,” he said, hands outstretched in mock surrender. “Let’s just pack up the diamonds and get out of here. We’ll get the team to come down and get the rest, but these jewels, we keep for ourselves.”
    As Gest bent to fasten his rucksack, Simon reached into his clothes for the book. He unwrapped the precious tome, a dark pleasure rising up within him as he touched the skin of its covering. With reverence, he placed it on the altar within the boundaries of the indentation. It fit perfectly and Simon knelt before it, bending his head in veneration.
    He heard Gest’s snort of derision at his actions, but then the chamber started to tremble, as if giants were shaking their limbs to free themselves from the ice. A hail of rock fell from the ceiling and the brothers covered their heads. A chunk knocked Simon over and he landed heavily on his side, his skull smacking against the ground as his vision darkened and then cleared again. As he sat up and rubbed his head, he saw that the altar had split down the centre of the rock beneath the book. An icy vapor started to ooze out of the newly-formed crack, dissipating into the air. Afraid that the book would be damaged, Simon reached for it, breathing in the tainted air