Citadels of the Lost by Tracy Hickman Read Free Book Online

Throne and its associated crown, however, was firmly within his purview and seemed to awaken him. “You are mistaken, child. That crown was the expressed objective of the campaign, burned into the Devotions of every Impress Warrior taking the field that day. None would have been capable of doing such a thing.”
    â€œMy father believed that it happened,” Shebin replied, lifting her chin with just the right mixture of pride and hurt in her expression. “The other warriors who were with him confirmed it . . . and I heard it from his own lips.”
    â€œBut why?” Arikasi pressed. “Why would a slave so willfully break the bounds of his Devotions?”
    Sjei frowned. Arikasi was derailing Shebin’s narrative with unnecessary issues. The Sinechai leaned forward, opening his mouth to speak.
    â€œI cannot say, Master,” Shebin responded. “Perhaps it was his first willful act of rebellion . . . the moment when the Captain of the First Octian conceived the tragedy that destroyed my home, saw my father torn limb from limb and my mother’s charred remains impaled atop the ruins of our subatria wall with a spear.”
    Sjei leaned back slowly. Shebin was good indeed. In a stroke she had both answered Arikasi’s question and put him back on the point of this entire performance.
    â€œGo on, child,” Kyori urged quietly into the short silence that followed. “Tell us what happened.”
    â€œIt was during evening Devotions,” Shebin said quietly. “All of the household and most of the slaves had already received their Devotions. We were all in the garden courtyard. I was down near the center next to the House Altar with Father and Mother—just next to the Aether Well. We heard sounds—shouts and screaming, I think—from the edge of the courtyard. I looked up with alarm and saw one of the slaves—that same Captain of the First Octian—brandishing a sword and threatening my mother and me.”
    Sjei glanced around at his fellow members on the council. There were conflicting accounts as to exactly what happened in the Timuran House courtyard that night and not one of them corroborated the story Shebin told. It did not matter what the facts were—what would the council believe? Did Shebin’s story go too far?
    Not even Wejon challenged her.
    â€œThe House Guards approached him at once, and my father rushed to help them but it was too late,” Shebin continued. “Drakis turned toward the Aether Well . . .”
    â€œDrakis?” Arikasi asked. “Who’s Drakis?”
    â€œThe Captain of the First Octian, Master . . . the human warriorslave,” Shebin replied. “He turned toward the Aether Well, held out his free hand, and then there was a terrible bright flash of light and the sound of a thousand thunders. Pieces of the Aether Well flew . . .”
    â€œPieces?” Kyori exclaimed.
    â€œYes, Master,” Shebin shook visibly as she spoke. “It shattered—like dropped glass—its pieces falling like bright rain all about the courtyard.
    Ch’dak turned to speak to the Modalis. “The Well not only was broken but exploded. I have seen the reports from the Iblisi Quorum who investigated. An Inquisitor by the name of Soen Tjen-rei reported that there were no pieces of the Aether Well remaining that were much larger than a finger of his hand. It was this event that caused Wells all across the Western Provinces to fail in turn. It was only by fortune that these cascading failures did not reach Rhonas itself.”
    A murmur rose in the hall at this statement. Sjei raised his hand. “Brothers! Order! Let us proceed.”
    Ch’dak turned back to face Shebin. “What happened next, child?”
    Shebin’s lips began to quiver, her black eyes shining under the light from above. “The . . . the slaves all went mad. It was like Drakis had cast a horrible spell upon them all. They