"Hello, Devourer." God of Rogues smiled at me from the depths of the polished silver surface. "How are things on your side? Is the weather any good?"
I curled my upper lip in mild annoyance. He knew just as well as I did that there was no weather to speak of in this place—it was the same smoky and blisteringly hot place as always. What's more, the weather was of absolutely zero importance.
But that was a much lesser problem than the fact that I couldn't read God of Rogues' thoughts right now, and was down to trying to read his face and guess. I wasn't the best in this game, and a lot was staked on how loyal of an ally God of Rogues was.
