Citadels of the Lost by Tracy Hickman Page B

you rob the bones of the dead,” Urulani said, recovering from her astonishment at the boy speaking.
    â€œThe dead brought down their doom on their own heads,” the boy shrugged. “They have no more use for their things.”
    â€œWhy not just live in the Citadels?” Ethis asked with a shrug of all four shoulders.
    The boy glared at him. “The four-armed man is a child!”
    â€œYes,” Ethis said carefully. “I am a child . . . teach me.”
    â€œCitadels are cursed!”
    â€œSo you bring back cursed items to your tribe?” Drakis asked incredulously.
    â€œNo, foolish man!” the youth spat back heatedly. “Cursed magic we leave to die with the Citadels. Only Far-runners are blessed by the gods to go there and find those things not of the magic. It is our honor. It is our glory.”
    â€œAnd yet we were there,” Ethis said evenly. “We, too, braved the cursed Citadels.”
    The boy’s lips curled in disgust. “You were lost! You would have been eaten by the Pythar if I had not led you to the river. You are children fallen in a pit of dragons crying for help.”
    â€œAnd you are most brave,” Ethis continued. “So brave that you stole our things from us.”
    â€œYes! I took your things!” the boy said proudly. “It was to my honor and your shame!”
    â€œYes, you are brave,” Drakis said. The boy was in this way over his head, no matter what his boasts might say. The boy was quick, certainly, and dangerous, but any one of them would be able to take him in combat, let alone all of them at once. “We are shamed before you. We would like our things back now.”
    â€œThey are mine!” the boy said, thrusting out his jaw. “I have taken them as is the Far-runner’s right!”
    â€œYes, they are,” Ethis took up Drakis’ thought. “But I am surprised that you would bring a great magic thing back to your clan.”
    â€œYou are talking foolish again,” the boy said dubiously.
    â€œNo,” Ethis continued. “You took a stone from the dwarf—a black stone. It is great and terrible magic in disguise . . . and you have brought it back with you.”
    The boy’s eyes went wide. He suddenly tossed his long pole at Drakis who barely had the reflexes to catch it. The boy jumped down, shoving the Lyric aside so violently that she nearly fell out of the boat. Frantically, the boy pawed through his sack and pulled out a black, faceted stone.
    He drew back his arm as though to pitch it with all his might into the river.
    Ethis lunged forward, snatching the stone out of the boy’s hand before he could let loose his throw.
    â€œDo not worry, friend Far-runner,” Ethis said, steadying the boat as he sat back down. “Four-armed men are immune to the curse. I will take care of it for you and protect you and your clan from its effects.”
    The boy blinked, uncertainty in his face for the first time. His lower lip quivered slightly.
    â€œThe honor is still yours, Far-runner,” Drakis said quietly. “I am Drakis. This is Ethis. The woman at the prow is Urulani and this woman we call the Lyric. We are your prize and we will not trouble you. May we ask you your name?”
    â€œIshander,” the boy said. “I am Ishander.”
    â€œThen, Ishander,” Drakis said, handing back the long pole. “We are trying to find our way back home. Where are you taking us?”
    â€œHome,” Ishander answered. “My home. But your people . . . if you are lost, will they not come looking for you?”
    â€œNo, Ishander,” Drakis said with a sigh. “No one is looking for us at all.”

CHAPTER 11
    Hunter and Hunted
    S OEN TJEN-REI THE RENEGADE, elven Inquisitor whose capture and death was decreed by Imperial Will throughout the Rhonas Empire that he had faithfully served, sat wearily down at the crest of a small knoll, leaning his back