Citadels of the Lost by Tracy Hickman Read Free Book Online Page A

began raving . . . murdering . . . they wouldn’t stop. The . . . the avatria started to fall and our Tribune Se’Djinka pulled me out from under it. I saw my father. He was fighting with his sword, but there were so many! I couldn’t see my mother at all. The slaves tore at me, tried to pull me among them, but Se’Djinka kept them away . . .”
    â€œWho is this Se’Djinka?” Arikasi blurted, trying to follow the narrative .
    â€œThe House Tribune,” Ch’dak offered. “He commanded the Timuran Centurai at the Battle of the Ninth Throne.”
    â€œWasn’t there a Ghenetar by that name?” Arikasi mused. “Fought in the Benis Isles campaign years ago.”
    â€œI believe your memory serves you too well,” Sjei said quietly. “It is the same elven general but some history is best forgotten. Please, Tsi-Shebin Timuran, continue: what did Se’Djinka do?”
    â€œHe pushed me back toward the Hall of the Past. The avatria crashed down into the garden and fell over. It crushed so many . . . He pushed me into a hidden room . . . a room I’d never seen before . . . and told me to stay there until he came for me . . . Until he came for me . . .”
    Shebin’s voice trailed off, her eyes unfocused.
    Ch’dak nodded. “How long were you there?”
    Shebin’s mind seemed to have taken her to a place far removed from the chambers of the Modalis. “The sounds were so chilling . . . the screams went on and on . . .”
    Ch’dak tried again. “Shebin, how long were you there.”
    â€œWhat did you . . . what?” The young elf girl blinked, trying to focus.
    Ch’dak drew in a long breath between his sharp teeth.
    â€œHe found me, you know,” Shebin suddenly whispered across the silence with just enough strength to be heard clearly throughout the hall. “With the house burning and my parents dying somewhere out in the ruins—he found me in that filthy little room. The Aether was gone. I . . . I had no magic to defend myself and there he was coming toward me with that . . . that terrible grin on his face! I tried . . . but he was a warrior . . . a warrior, you see . . . and he kept touching me and pulling at my dress . . .”
    Ch’dak looked away from her.
    Sjei did not move. He knew this part was an outrageous twisting of the truth, but he could read the faces of his fellow council members. We’ve got them, he thought.
    â€œMy dress,” Shebin murmured, fingering the tears in the cloth. “It used to be so beautiful . . . and he had to ruin it all.”
    â€œWho?” Ch’dak said as if on cue. “The slave who did this, who was it?”
    â€œDrakis,” Shebin said through stuttering breaths. “The human slave named Drakis.”
    â€œThank you, Tsi-Shebin Timuran,” Ch’dak said in quiet respect. “We hear your words and shall deliberate on your justice.”
    Shebin nodded hesitantly and then walked quietly from the room, her head bowed. The dark doors closed quietly behind her.
    Wejon barely waited for the sound of the latch before his voice filled the hall. “What is all this to us? There is nothing new in this report that was not known to us.”
    â€œTo what are you referring, Wejon,” Liau observed coolly, ‘that all the Aether Wells collapsed at once in the Western Provinces or that it was all caused by this one human named Drakis?”
    â€œIt’s one escaped slave!” Wejon squealed, his voice echoing in the hall. “That House Timuran fell is a tragedy. I feel nothing but the deepest of sympathies for this unfortunate young woman who has stood before us. Sad, indeed, is her tale. More tragic still are the hundreds perhaps thousands of others who did not survive this unfortunate accident to come and tell their tales to us as well . . . but we are still talking about a single, unimportant slave!”
    â€œA slave who