From The Mad Mask Kyle landed a few feet away from the interloper and took him in. He was tall and lanky, draped in a dark green cloak. His hands-the left one of which held the costume up in the air like a trophy-wore heavy leather gauntlets that matched his buckled boots. But most impressive was the mask. It was jet black, shaped like two half-ovals that had been joined off-center, such that one protruded at the top and the other at the bottom. An inlaid ivory tear wept down one cheek. Both eyes glowed green. "Greetings," the figure said. He chuckled, the sound low and echoing in the mask. Kyle darted toward him, a blur of speed, reaching out for his costume. Before his fingers could touch it, though, he saw and heard a loud, hot, electrical crackle that jerked his arm so powerfully he felt as if it would come right out of his shoulder socket. At the very same instant, the power of that shock spun him around and threw him back ten feet to smack against a tree. Excerpted from The Mad Mask by Barry Lyga All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
