Midnights Mask Read Online Free Page A

not a slaad, the nose slits, spotted skin, and the shape of his eyes reminded Riven of something slaadlike, or at least reptilian. He wore a short-sleeved robe of red silk, trimmed in gold, over which hung an ermine-trimmed black cape clasped at his throat with a silver pin. His thin body swam in the clothing, and both robe and cape hung off his frame as though he were made of sticks.
    The Sojourner fixed Riven with a stare, started to say something, but stopped, blinked, and inhaled sharply.
    At first Riven did not know what had happened, then it hit him. The Sojourner had felt a stab of pain.
    “Father?” Dolgan asked.
    Beside him, Azriim wore a sneer nearly the match of Riven’s.
    The Sojourner had to be sick or injured, Riven reasoned, which explained why the creature had moved his body hardly at all since entering the room. Perhaps even small movements pained him.
    Riven tried to figure how that fit into his calculations, if at all_
    The Sojourner’s spasm passed as quickly as it had appeared.
    “I am well, Dolgan,” he said, and eyed Riven. “You were a companion of the priest of Mask?”
    Riven nodded tightly. The mention of Cale as a priest irritated him.
    “You betrayed your friend to join my sons?”
    “I don’t have friends,” Riven answered, and kept his voice steady. “I have allies and enemies. Allies I use. Enemies I kill?’
    The Sojourner smiled, a barely perceptible rise in the corners of his mouth. “Which are we, then?”
    Behind Riven, Dolgan chortled. The big slaad shifted on his feet.
    “Allies,” Riven said, but could not prevent himself from adding over his shoulder, “For now.”
    Dolgan growled, moved a step closer.
    Riven tensed, readied himself. Azriim dispelled the tension. “You see?” the foppish slaad said, grinning and thumping Riven on the shoulder. “I like him. So does Dolgan.”
    Dolgan scoffed and spat on the carpet.
    Azriim frowned at that and said, “Mind the carpet, fool.”
    The Sojourner remained expressionless, motionless, and considered. Riven knew his life sat on a blade’s edge. The moments seemed hours. Finally, the Sojourner said to Azriim, “The timing is poor, Azriim. Things are nearing completion and you have introduced a… random element into my plans.”
    “I enjoy random elements,” Azriim answered, a challenge in his tone.
    Anger flashed in the Sojourner’s eyes. He raised his staff slightly and Dolgan fell to the floor. Azriim bowed his head and took his hand from Riven.
    Riven considered using the teleportation rod to get the Nine Hells clear of there, but his pride refused to let him run. He would make his play and see it through.
    “Time is short,” the Sojourner said to the room, and Riven wondered at his meaning. “I am disinclined to indulge you. You will take another seed by sea to the Eldritch Temple of Mystryl. Your human is an unnecessary risk. Accordingly-“
    “I can be an asset,” Riven interrupted, even as he put one hand to the teleportation rod. “I know Cale well.”
    Azriim nodded and said, “He was his companion.”
    “He was, Azriim, and that is why I wonder why he aided you.” The Sojourner turned his gaze to Riven. “That is the question.”
    “Why do we aid you’?” Azriim asked. “That, too, is a question.”
    Behind Riven, Dolgan whined in dismay.
    Riven turned one of the dials on the rod with his thumb. He was not certain he could operate it. He certainly could not dictate a location. But if things went poorly, anywhere would be better than where he stood.
    The Sojourner’s eyes bored into Azriim. “You aid me because I give you no choice. But also because I offer something you crave. And because you fear me.” He said the last in a soft, tight tone that caused Azriim to take a half-step backward, leaving Riven alone and exposed.
    “And appropriately so,” the Sojourner added. He nodded at Riven. “This one does not fear you. That is evident So what do you offer him?”
    Azriim made no