Phoenix Rising by Ryk E Spoor Read Free Book Online Page A

moved off his sword and hooked it in the little loop of leather tied around his body; if he was going to make a habit of this, he needed to figure out a better way of doing that.
    The mazakh were going to be the real problem. The big bug thingies apparently had the instinctive fear of his people that many insects—giant and otherwise—did. He could startle them, make them do stupid things if he worked at it. The mazakh , however, would just as soon eat him as look at him. And at my size, I’m barely a mouthful.
    The side door looked like the better bet right now. He still wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to accomplish his first goal, which was to either get the monsters doing the ritual in the big room to come out, or at least throw them into a lot of confusion and panic so he could get in unnoticed. And in not too long a time, either; no telling what they were trying to do with that ritual, but he’d bet his tongue it was something really bad.
    Focus. You’re a Toad, you can handle this. We survive. We always have, even before the Great Dragons, before the Demons, we were here. I can deal with these newcomer scalies and their bug-eyed friends.
    Of course, he had to admit as he scuttled over to the side door, we survive as a group and by usually not getting involved. Adventuring has a way of getting people killed. Why was it I wanted to do this again?
    The handle was about three and a half feet from the floor. The one at the end of the corridor had opened without noise, so hopefully it was kept well-oiled. He judged the distance and leaped.
    It wasn’t the highest leap he’d ever done, or the longest, but it was a hard jump to judge, and he was a little low. He managed to just catch the handle with his slightly webbed hands and pull himself on top of it. As he did, his tiny sword-blade rapped against the metal of the handle with a clear, if low, chiming noise.
    He froze.
    Movement inside! I can hear it! What do I do—
    The handle began to turn, tilting downward on his side. He scrabbled desperately, then gave up and dropped down. As soon as the door opens . . .
    The heavy metal-bound door was yanked open and a mazakh glared out, hissing, a jagged-edged sword in its clawed hand. But it was looking out into the corridor, not just by its own feet, and the little Toad took the chance to gingerly ease by the creature’s front foot. He froze again as he noticed the contents of the room.
    Three other figures were near a moderate sized table in the center of the room. One, another mazakh , had risen and half-drawn his weapon; the other two—one an insectoid like the others Duckweed had seen, the other apparently human—were still seated, looking at the snake-man near the door with bemused expressions.
    Duckweed was partially hidden from the group by the mazakh ’s three-toed rear foot. If he moved out from that, he’d be visible. Maybe they wouldn’t notice . . . but at that range, mazakh were usually very, very good at sensing motion, even if the others weren’t. He held still, watching, controlling panic. If I lose control for even a moment, they’ll catch me in seconds . . . and then I’ll be lucky to just get eaten.
    “Well, Lassish? Anything?” the human asked in a bored tone.
    “There seems to be nothing.” The mazakh named Lassish still stood immobile, looking up and down the corridor, sniffing suspiciously. “But I know I heard something. Metal, sounded like, striking the door, like someone was trying to slide the latch.”
    “I heard it too,” the other mazakh agreed. “One of those passing to the Great Summoning, perhaps, brushing by?”
    “There was no one in the passage when I opened the door, and the door to the Summoning was closed.” Lassish hissed in annoyance, and abruptly let the door swing shut and turned.
    The little Toad found himself following as closely as he dared on Lassish’s heels; it was the only thing he could think of, to let the body and tail of the seven-foot creature