Read Online Masters of the Veil by Daniel A. Cohen - Free Book Online

find a way to communicate with the boy.”
    Jintin cleared his throat.
    “Let me guess.” Vigtor raised his eyebrows at Jintin. “Force?”
    Jintin shrugged. The man’s squirrelly face and small stature created the illusion of weakness.
    Vigtor shook his head. Jintin’s ability to destroy was unmatched, but he wasn’t known for his cleverness.
    “You know as well as I do that if we tried a siege, we would lose. There are just too many of them, and apparently some have even been practicing the more nefarious arts.”
    Sage spoke up. “Just because May was able to break your hold doesn’t mean they could keep us all at bay.”
    “No.” Vigtor gave her a hard look. “Don’t you think they are already preparing to defend against an attack? No, we need another way.”
    “They will not accept each other,” Erimos said quietly.
    The room went quiet. When Erimos spoke, everyone listened.
    Luckily for Vigtor, Erimos—the man who had taught him power magic—had never wanted to lead the Tembrath Elite. He was content to sit on the sidelines and watch, offering his input when necessary. By far the wisest of them all, Erimos conserved his words, making them all the more powerful.
    Erimos opened his eyes for the first time that night. They were piercing red. Vigtor knew that they had not always been that color, but red was indicative of power. In the case of the Veil, the redder the better.
    Long white hair hung down over Erimos’ shoulders, ending in silver tips. His face was scarred from countless years of traveling down the powerful side of the Veil. Many centuries everyone else’s senior, he had discovered many aspects of how to actually use the Veil, how to access real power magics. He had accessed aspects people had been too scared to reach before.
    “If you would care to elaborate?” Vigtor dropped his head in a respectful nod.
    “They will be afraid of him. We all felt it. He will be drawn to the true methods of controlling Her. It will only make the boy join us sooner. ”
    Crom had finally pried himself from his magical bonds. “I can do it! We don’t need him!”
    Vigtor ignored Crom’s comment. “Yes, they will know what awaits him. What he is capable of. Soon he will know it, too.”
    “Exactly.” Erimos nodded. “We just have to make sure it stays that way.”
    “Excellent,” Vigtor said. “Let’s begin.”
    “Begging your pardon,” Erimos’ wrinkled hands produced an envelope from his lap, “but I already have. As simple as it is,” he placed the envelope on the table, “this is how we will succeed. A small weight to tip the scales.”
    “It must work,” Vigtor said. “That boy is the key to getting through.”
    The rest of the Tembrath Elite nodded at this: all except Crom.
    Erimos closed his eyes once more. “I have been waiting a long time for this. Longer than all of you. Longer than most of you put together. Our purpose will be fulfilled.”

CHAPTER 8

    T he championship game was heating up, the fans going wild with anticipation. Thirty seconds left and Sam took the field. Girls screamed, guys chanted, and Paul Barsky in the mascot suit started doing cartwheels. Sam waved a hand to rile up the crowd ever further. He beat his chest and hooted like a gorilla, which started the screams up again. It was the day he was to become a hero.
    “Doug,” Sam said, “fake sneak left and look for me in the end zone.”
    “But, Sam,” Doug said, “you can’t be on the field.”
    “Why not?” Sam looked around; all the other players wore black jerseys instead of the usual green and gold.
    “Because that part of your life is dead.” Doug pulled a black sheet of paper from his pocket. “Didn’t you get the memo?”
    “Memo?” Sam took the paper, which crumbled to ash. “What are you talking about?” He pulled a tuft of black cotton off the mascot suit and started chewing it.
    “Get that thing off the field!” Doug shouted. “It doesn’t belong here.”
    “Doug, just throw