Page 25 of The Idol
“Different how?”
He hesitated, but not out of suspicion. It was more like he was embarrassed, self-conscious of his role. “Well… I’m supposed to remain focused on channeling the Light. Father says it’s the most important job of all. Even more important thanhis.” He glanced toward the cornfields, his voice softening. “I’ve done it since I was little.”
I kept my expression carefully neutral. “That’s a lot to carry, isn’t it?”
“It’s an honor,” he said sincerely.
We walked in silence for a bit. His robe swayed gently with each step.
Then I went for something a little riskier. “So… what kind of decisions does the Inner Circle make? Just scheduling? Or… bigger things?”
Elior lifted a hand to tug absently at his sleeve—his nervous habit. “Bigger things, sometimes. Where the tithes go. Who needs guidance. When we accept someone new.” He paused, then added, innocent as sunlight, “Even the discipline sometimes.”
My pulse sharpened. “Discipline?”
He nodded, the tiniest of frowns on his face. “When someone strays. Or doubts. Or… or speaks against Father. It usually happens after confessions, but it just depends.”
My jaw clenched before I could stop it. “And what happens to them?”
Elior looked up at me with such pure trust it almost hurt. “They’re corrected,” he said, a hint of sadness in his tone. “For their own good.”
Corrected.
I exhaled slowly. “And you’re not part of that?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, no! Well—” he paused, eyebrows drooping, “I have to tell Father of any sins that are confessed to me. But—but I don’t punish them. Father does that, or sometimes Brother Gabriel or Paul…”
I nodded, even though anger burned in my throat like a lit match.
We walked a bit further in tense silence. At the far corner of the compound, he slowed. “This is where I usually turn back,” he murmured.
I gave him a soft, easy smile. “Mind if I walk with you again tomorrow?”
The blush hit him instantly, blooming on his cheeks and turning his ears pink.
“I… I don’t mind,” he whispered.
Of course, he didn’t.
I waited until I was back in my room with the door locked before pulling out my phone.
The line clicked, then Patel’s voice came through, crisp and low. “Status.”
“I’m fine,” I said, keeping my voice barely above a whisper. “Still keeping cover. I’ve got an in with the son. He’s talking. Everything’s going fine.”
Patel exhaled, the sound of someone carefully managing relief. “Good. No sign they’re onto you?”
“None.” I glanced at the door, out of habit. No footsteps. “He trusts me.”
“Keep it steady. Don’t push too fast.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know the drill.”
Another pause. “Call tomorrow. Same time.”
I turned the phone off, then tucked it back into its hidden spot under the bed, taped to the frame.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, thinking about what Elior had said during our walk.
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