Forge of the Mindslayers: Blade of the Flame Book 2 Read Online Free PDF

motion of a slow current. Skarm knew they did this whenever his mistress was lost in thought.
    Skarm forsook his natural form and assumed his goblin aspect. While he could also become a true wolf when he wished, the goblin was his favorite persona. Not only could he more effectively communicate while wearing this body, it was also much easier to stir up mischief. Though it had been his barghest form that had been burned, his goblin body was marked by the same injuries. Because it was physically weaker than either of his others forms, Skarm now experienced the pain of his burns far more intensely. He took in a hissing breath; he might have screamed but he didn’t wish to disturb Nathifa. He stood there for a moment, gritting his teeth as he struggled to adjust to the pain. Only when he thought he had it under some measure of control did he allow himself to speak.
    “I am glad to see that you are unharmed, my mistress.”
    Nathifa didn’t take her gaze from the ebon skull as she answered. “It’s not for lack of trying on that priest’s part, I assure you. He’s stronger than I would have given him credit for. Stronger, perhaps, than even he knows …”
    Her voice trailed off, her manner dreamy and distracted. If he didn’t keep her talking, she might well drift away into her own thoughts, not emerging for hours, perhaps even days, for she was undead and did not experience time the same way mortals did.
    “Did they find the false phylactery?” the barghest asked.
    “Hmmm? Oh, yes, they did.”
    Nathifa often said the skull, which she called Espial, spoke to her. Skarm had never heard the obsidian sculpture do so clearly, but he believed it, for sometimes he thought he detected a faint whispering coming from the thing, a sibilant voice muttering darkly in a language he didn’t recognize. Like now.
    “Did it take them long to find it?” Skarm asked, a hint of eagerness in his voice.
    Nathifa finally turned away from the ebon skull to fix Skarm with an irritated glance. “I didn’t remain behind to observe them as they searched. Suffice it to say that your deception fulfilled its purpose.”
    Skarm smiled but then grimaced as his burnt lips cracked and began bleeding. “I thought the cuirass was a nice touch. I hope they weren’t too rough with it. We can make use of it again after we … I mean
I
repair the main entrance.”
    “There is no need. Our false lair has done its work.” Nathifa turned away from Skarm to look once more into Espial’s empty sockets. At least they were empty to Skarm. Who knew what Nathifa saw in their black depths?
    “But that would make you vulnerable, my mistress!” the barghest objected. “A false phylactery is the perfect way to ensure that your true phylactery is safe!”
    What Skarm didn’t add was that if they didn’t repair the main entrance, they wouldn’t have any more visitors, and if they didn’t have any visitors, he would be deprived of sustenance. Barghests survived by devouring both the flesh and souls of the living. No entrance, no foolish treasure-seekers. No treasure-seekers, no food for Skarm.
    “Your concern for me is touching,” the lich said, her voice dripping sarcasm, “though I wager your true concern is your perpetually empty belly. You forget the reason I built the false chambers in the first place.”
    “Of course I haven’t. You built them—”
Though I did most of the work
, Skarm added mentally—“in order to draw adventurers to you because the skull told you to do so.”
    Nathifa reached out and gently stroked the smooth surface of Espial’s skull with dead-white fingers. “Do you remember why Espial so advised?”
    Skarm could feel the chamber growing colder: a sure sign that Nathifa was beginning to become irritated with him. “Because one day a certain man would come, a man bearing a golden dragon’s head.” Skarm’s eyes widened in realization. “The old man! He carried such an object!”
    Nathifa continued stroking