Homeland by R. A. Salvatore Read Free Book Online Page B

disfigured master. “All dead,” he snarled one more time. “Except for poor Alton, who lives on to hear of his family’s misfortune. That oversight shall be remedied now!” The Faceless One raised his hands to cast a spell.
    “Who?” Alton cried.
    The Faceless One paused and seemed not to understand.
    “What house did this?” the doomed student clarified. “Or what conspiracy of houses brought down DeVir?”
    “Ah, you should be told,” replied the Faceless One, obviously enjoying the situation. “I suppose it is your right to know before you join your kin in the realm of death.” A smile widened across the opening where his lips once had been.
    “But you broke my mirror!” the master growled. “Die stupid, stupid boy! Find your own answers!”
    The Faceless One’s chest jerked out suddenly, and he shuddered in convulsions, babbling curses in a tongue far beyond the terrified student’s comprehension. What vile spell did this disfigured master have prepared for him, so wretched that its chant sounded in an arcane language foreign to learned Alton’s ears, so unspeakably evil that its semantics jerked on the very edge of its caster’s control? The Faceless One then fell forward to the floor and expired.
    Stunned, Alton followed the line of the master’s hood down to his back—to the tail of a protruding dart. Alton watched the poisoned thing as it continued to shudder from the body’s impact, then he turned his scan upward to the center of the room, where the young cleaning attendant stood calmly.
    “Nice weapon, Faceless One!” Masoj beamed, rolling a two-handed, crafted crossbow over in his hands. He threw a wicked smile at Alton and fitted another dart.

    Matron Malice hoisted herself out of her chair and willed herself to her feet. “Out of the way!” she snapped at her daughters.
    Maya and Vierna scooted away from the spider idol and the baby. “See his eyes, Matron Mother,” Vierna dared to remark. “They are so unusual.”
    Matron Malice studied the child. Everything seemed in place, and a good thing, too, for Nalfein, elderboy of House Do’Urden, was dead, and this boy, Drizzt, would have a difficult job replacing the valuable son.
    “His eyes,” Vierna said again.
    The matron shot her a venomous look but bent low to see what the fuss was about.
    “Purple?” Malice said, startled. Never had she heard of such a thing.
    “He is not blind,” Maya was quick to put in, seeing the disdain spreading across her mother’s face.
    “Fetch the candle,” Matron Malice ordered. “Let us see how these eyes appear in the world of light.”
    Maya and Vierna reflexively headed for the sacred cabinet, but Briza cut them off. “Only a high priestess may touch the holy items,” she reminded them in a tone that carried the weight of a threat. She spun around haughtily, reached into the cabinet, and produced a single half-used red candle. The clerics hid their eyes and Matron Malice put a prudent hand over the baby’s face as Briza lit the sacred candle. It produced only a tiny flame, but to drow eyes it came as a brilliant intrusion.
    “Bring it,” said Matron Malice after several moments of adjusting. Briza moved the candle near Drizzt, and Malice gradually slid her hand away.
    “He does not cry,” Briza remarked, amazed that the babe could quietly accept such a stinging light.
    “Purple again,” whispered the matron, paying no heed to her daughter’s rambling. “In both worlds, the child’s eyes show as purple.”
    Vierna gasped audibly when she looked again upon her tiny brother and his striking lavender orbs.
    “He is your brother,” Matron Malice reminded her, viewing Vierna’s gasp as a hint of what might come. “When he grows older and those eyes pierce you so, remember, on your life, that he is your brother.”
    Vierna turned away, almost blurting a reply she would have regretted making. Matron Malice’s exploits with nearly every male soldier of the Do’Urden house—and