Master (Book 5) by Robert J. Crane Page B

mine,” Mendicant spoke up, his green, scaly skin pulled back to reveal his fearsome teeth. Cyrus tried to decide if the goblin was smiling, then realized it was probably more of a grimace. “Not that I don’t appreciate being called in to strategize with the great Lord Davidon—”
    “Oh, there went my appetite,” Vaste said.
    “—but I don’t think I can be of much help to you in this matter,” Mendicant finished, his grimace now faded. He looks almost … regretful , Cyrus decided.
    “I asked all of you here for a specific reason,” Cyrus said, turning to the last member of the group, Martaina Proelius. She had said nothing thus far, preferring to stand near the door, tall and lithe, surveying the meeting with a watchful eye as though something—or someone—were about to burst through the door at any moment. Her green cloak covered her hands and arms as well as her body, and she stood stiff and still, taking it all in. Or napping with her eyes open, for all I know. “You are some of the smartest and most experienced people in Sanctuary—”
    “Where’s Curatio?” J’anda asked, shifting in his chair and letting the wine slosh around in his goblet.
    “Supremely busy,” Cyrus said.
    “It seems to me that Lady Vara would be a good choice for this sort of discussion,” Mendicant said, speaking softly. “She is named for the Goddess of Life, after all, is she not?”
    “Ahhh …” Cyrus felt a grimace of his own appear. “I don’t want to bother Lady Vara until we have something more … uh … substantial … to share.” He knew the eyes of the others were either upon him or averted politely, and he cleared his throat. “The question still remains—when a goddess goes missing, where does a mortal begin looking for her?”
    “I don’t know,” J’anda said, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t you ask an immortal?”
    “I’ll try and catch up with Curatio later tonight,” Cyrus said, holding up a hand as though he could ward the enchanter off. “But before then, I’d like to at least have some ideas.”
    “You could try visiting her home,” Martaina said from her place near the door. She maintained her icy demeanor as everyone turned to look at her. “It seems the logical place to start a search.”
    “The only problem being that apparently the guardians of her realm are a little touchy at the moment,” Cyrus said. “But you’re quite right, we should visit the Realm of Life, see if we can find out anything there.” He paused. “Maybe bring a little army with us to be sure we don’t get overwhelmed in case we have to stage a sudden retreat.” He looked around the small group. “Any other ideas?”
    There was a pause before Vaste broke the silence. “We’re probably a little stalled in our thinking because none of us has ever had to find a god before. Usually they’re quite good about staying where you leave them.”
    Cyrus saw a few smiles break around the room, taking special note of J’anda’s. The dark elf, even in his illusionary state, maintained a distinctive air about him, his dark skin looking shadowed in the light of the torches that burned from sconces on the wall.
    “Fair enough,” Cyrus said. “If you come up with any other ideas, though—”
    “Who would kidnap a god?” Mendicant asked, muttering under his breath.
    Cyrus turned his head to focus on the goblin. “I’m sorry, Mendicant, what was that?”
    “Oh,” Mendicant said, suddenly flustered. “I didn’t realize I was speaking aloud.”
    “Well, you were,” Cyrus said, honing in on the green-skinned wizard, “and it sounded like a good thought. Say that again.”
    The goblin sat back, long fingers with the claws on the ends fingering his blue robe. “I was just speculating—pointlessly, really—about who would have the power to kidnap a god. Not a guild, or an army, in all probability—”
    “Unless they beat her to within an inch of her life the way we did to Mortus,” J’anda said.