Citadels of the Lost Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  Book 1: - ROGUES

  CHAPTER 1 - Dragon Raid

  CHAPTER 2 - Burned Bridges

  CHAPTER 3 - Pythar

  CHAPTER 4 - Proper Orders

  CHAPTER 5 - Mutual Interests

  CHAPTER 6 - The Victim

  CHAPTER 7 - Temple of Whispers

  CHAPTER 8 - Spirits

  CHAPTER 9 - Death’s Shadow

  CHAPTER 10 - Ishander

  CHAPTER 11 - Hunter and Hunted

  CHAPTER 12 - Prophet for Profit

  CHAPTER 13 - Panaris Road

  CHAPTER 14 - Grahn Aur

  CHAPTER 15 - Battle Lines

  CHAPTER 16 - Silent as the Grave

  CHAPTER 17 - Nothing but the Truth

  CHAPTER 18 - The Ambeth

  CHAPTER 19 - Dark Wells

  CHAPTER 20 - Grandfather

  CHAPTER 21 - Uncertain Ground

  CHAPTER 22 - The Horn and Hand

  CHAPTER 23 - Strong Currents

  CHAPTER 24 - Divergence

  Book 2: - MISTRALS

  CHAPTER 25 - Braun

  CHAPTER 26 - Hospitality of the Khadush

  CHAPTER 27 - Cascade

  CHAPTER 28 - Shadows and Scales

  CHAPTER 29 - River of Sighs

  CHAPTER 30 - Fordrim of Kesh Morain

  CHAPTER 31 - Sanctuary

  CHAPTER 32 - Koram Devnet

  CHAPTER 33 - Backs to the Sea

  Book 3: - CITADELS

  CHAPTER 34 - Arenas

  CHAPTER 35 - Dead Silence

  CHAPTER 36 - The Altar

  CHAPTER 37 - The Battlebox

  CHAPTER 38 - Signals

  CHAPTER 39 - Mala’s Choice

  CHAPTER 40 - Shaken Foundations

  CHAPTER 41 - Slaughter

  CHAPTER 42 - Scales

  CHAPTER 43 - Recompense

  DAW Books Presents

  TRACY HICKMAN’S

  The Annals of Drakis:

  SONG OF THE DRAGON (Book One)

  CITADELS OF THE LOST (Book Two)

  Copyright © 2011 by Tracy and Laura Hickman.

  All Rights Reserved.

  DAW Book Collectors No. 1552.

  DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  ISBN : 978-1-101-54838-7

  First Printing, July 2011

  DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED

  U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES

  —MARCA REGISTRADA

  HECHO EN U.S.A.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  AKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank Sheila Gilbert, without whose help this book would not shine so brightly.

  Book 1:

  ROGUES

  CHAPTER 1

  Dragon Raid

  THE THROATS OF A THOUSAND DRAGONS answered the call.

  Drakis took several steps back from the towering statue, awestruck by the shapes rising from the craggy peaks beyond. He glanced back at the statue, the craning neck with the ridge of scales curving down to the horn-spiked head with bladelike long teeth onto the ancient marble base, the enormous stone wings rising straight up over a hundred feet, and the gigantic claws gripping the glowing crystal globes. His gaze jumped back to the mountaintops and the shadows pulling their way closer to him through the evening sky. Dragons . . . real dragons! Even from this distance of several leagues he could make out some details of the enormous monsters, their great wings sweeping forward and scooping the air down and back with every stroke. The sound of their shrieking calls rolled down the mountainside and shook the wide pedestal on which he stood, carrying away with it every other sensation. It encompassed him, shot through him, and drowned out everything else. Somewhere nearby the muffled voice of Urulani shouted through the noise, calling her men to gather closer around the statue and ready their weapons. What were their names? he vaguely wondered. The dwarf, he knew, was also shouting nearby but his voice sounded more distant than the dragon calls and his movements seemed slow. Ethis was pulling at the dwarf, dragging him back onto the pedestal and closer to the fold—the magical portal sphere of radiant blue light that had opened at the base of the statue. Beyond the portal fold and through its shining blue haze he could see a land of dense foliage and distant towers but it seemed so very far away. Mala lay sobbing hysterically at his feet . . .

  Mala, his Mala . . . the Mala who had betrayed them all because Drakis had heard the song of these dragons and brought them here.

  Drakis grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet. The muffled, confused sounds filling his ears suddenly cleared, and he was at once keenly aware of his surroundings. He had been a warrior not so many months ago, even if that lifetime now seemed like the distant past; his training acted for him. He reached for his sword, pulling it from its scabbard and finding comfort in the sound of the steel blade as it cleared the leather.

  “Urulani! Get everyone back to the ship!” Drakis shouted.

  “We can’t outrun that!” Kendai yelled.

  “It’s coming here,” Drakis snapped. “It’s coming for me. I’ll stay here—cut back and forth through the fold—and keep them at bay until you can get to the ship and think of some way to get me out of this.”

  “I’m staying,” Ethis said.

  “We’ll take them together,” growled the dwarf.

  Urulani opened her mouth, but Drakis spoke first.

  “You have to get the rest out of here,” Drakis said in the firm voice of command that he had heard so often before from his commanders and which he, in turn, learned to use on those under his leadership. It was a voice that carried its own authority. “You’re the captain. You’re the only one who can. Take Mala, the Lyric, and your crew, and get help!”

  Urulani gritted her teeth and then turned to her men. “Yithri, you and Kwarae bring the Lyric! I’ve got the princess. We’re going back to the Cydron! NOW!”

  Kendai, Djono, Gantau, and Lukrasae did not require another word. All four bolted from the platform, following their footprints back across the sands.

  “So, are you glad you came along, princess?” Urulani said, grabbing the arm of the auburn-haired woman, pulling her away from Drakis. The harder she pulled, however, the more firmly Mala gripped Drakis as though he were her only jetsam in a sea of fear. Urulani, after considerable effort, managed to pull her free. “Let’s go!”

  “NO!” Mala screamed, her hands shaking as her head and eyes began darting about. “The monsters are out there! They’ve come from my dreams! They’ve come for my soul!”

  “We don’t have time for this!” Drakis barked, his eyes fixed on the dark shapes wheeling above them in the sky.

  “You heard the man, princess . . .”

  Mala shoved Urulani backward with a mindless, animal roar.

  The captain quickly recovered her footing.

  “Fair warning,” Urulani said as she pulled back her arm and smacked a quick fist across Mala’s cheek.

  Mala, however, did not drop. She staggered backward several steps before her eyes went wide—and then Mala erupted into a fury. With a ferocity and speed that shocked Drakis, she clawed suddenly at Urulani’s face.

  Just as sudd
enly, the Lyric pulled her arms free of Kwarae and Yithri, leaping on Urulani’s back.

  “By the gods!” Drakis shouted, reaching over to try and pull the Lyric from the captain’s back. “Get them out of here!”

  “Gantau!” Bloody red streaks opened up along Urulani’s midnight skin. “Get back here! Lend a hand!”

  Gantau slid to a stop in the sand, turned, and rushed back to the platform. By the look on his face, Drakis knew the man was afraid but obeyed.

  Drakis managed to pull the Lyric off of Urulani’s back. He pushed Mala behind him but she was still sobbing and as afraid of the portal as of the approaching dragons. She pushed back against him from behind. Drakis struggled to keep his footing on the slippery marble.

  “Good luck, princess!” Urulani said. “Men of Sondau! Let’s get out of here!”

  “It’s too late, they’re already here,” Drakis bellowed. “Ethis! You and Jugar watch the sides and each other’s backs! Urulani, get what’s left of your men to form up with our backs to the fold. The plan’s still good . . . we’ll drop back through the fold if we need to and hold on the other side until your men bring help.”

  “What kind of help do you think they can bring against that?” Urulani asked, pointing to the sky.

  Three of the great shadows in the deepening evening sky were ahead of the rest, their shrieking cries seeming to cut directly through Drakis’ ears.

  “When do we fire?” Kwarae asked, but there was a strange quiver in his voice.

  The song returned to Drakis’ head like a thundering chorus of a thousand voices.

  Back to the homeland of fallen dreams . . .

  Is this the prophet returned?

  Wandering so long . . .

  Wandering so strong . . .

  “Wait, I . . . what?” Drakis stammered.

  “Do we fire?” Kwarae repeated.

  “No! We wait!” Urulani replied.

  “What?” Yithri yelped.

  “That’s no welcoming party, lass!” Jugar growled.

  “So you want to fire arrows into that?” Urulani pointed as the first of the dragons banked above the sands, its enormous leathery wings held tight against the air through which it rushed. Sweat was breaking out on her brow. “Do you see the scales? Do you really think we can do any damage to that at this range? We have to wait until it is closer!”

  “I think it’s already too close,” Ethis shouted, “We’ve got to retreat through the portal!”

  “NO!” Jugar yelled over the tumult of voices around him. “We don’t know where the fold leads! It could be a thousand leagues from . . .”

  “What does it matter where it leads?” Ethis shouted back. “How can it possibly be worse than this?”

  Drakis barely heard the words around him. The song filled his mind and thoughts.

  Come to the claw and the forehand . . .

  Come to the land of the dead.

  Come quiet stealing . . .

  Come to the healing . . .

  Mala screamed.

  The dragon had turned above the sands, pulling at the air so hard that the dunes beneath it exploded upward in billowing, sunset clouds of sand. In an instant, the enormous gaping jaws, with razor-sharp fangs nearly as tall as Drakis, were closing on the platform. The fifty-foot wings of the beast struck down and forward, slowing the monster in mid-flight just short of the platform, the sudden hurricane gust knocking Drakis back two steps. The dragon’s great, left fore claws extended down toward him.

  It was the eyes that caught his attention, Drakis realized in the last moment. Slit pupils and a terrible yellow color yet focused, determined, alert . . .

  Intelligent.

  Drakis reached forward with his left hand, transfixed by the eye of the dragon.

  The sound of crashing metal brought him out of his stupor. Urulani, Gantau, and Yithri had all charged forward. Their swords and weapons clashed against the open claws, slashing at the leathery flesh of the dragon’s palm which soon welled up with blood. Beyond the dragon, Kendai, Djono and Lukrasae had drawn their swords, uncertain how to attack the creature.

  “Kendai!” Urulani yelled over the ringing blows as the dragon drew in a great gasping breath. “Get back to the ship! Get help!”

  The dragon’s cry was deafening, causing everyone on the marble platform to involuntarily raise their hands to their ears. The dragon pulled back, landing with a resounding boom on its hind legs as it clawed at the air in pain and outrage. Its tail whipped frantically about, crashing through one of the statue’s claws. Rubble from the broken leg of the statue flew across the platform, slamming into Gantau’s chest and smashing him against stone at the back of the platform’s statue.

  Two more dragons landed with such force around the statue that the platform shook, knocking Drakis and all of his companions completely off their feet. Gantau lay unmoving in a growing pool of blood.

  “Do you think we could leave now?” Ethis shouted.

  “Out!” Drakis screamed as he grabbed Mala’s arm once more. “Everybody out through the fold!”

  Drakis got his feet under him just as the dragon’s head once more thrust down in his direction. He pushed Mala through the glowing sphere and prepared to jump after her . . .

  Something connected at his back, rushing him toward the sphere. His hands were pushed backward with the sudden rush and he could feel the smooth, hard and wet surface behind him.

  The dragon’s fang.

  The dragon had lunged at him but misjudged his prey. The massive head was pushing him through the portal, rushing through it with him. Drakis saw the glow of the fold rush past him and he was suddenly surrounded by the broken stones of a ruined plaza and an impression of the astonished faces of his companions.

  Just as suddenly, the rushing sensation stopped and he tumbled forward, rolling across the broken stones of the ruined plaza that cut at his arms and legs. The final impact with the ground forced the air from his lungs and he struggled to stand up.

  The sight before him was not to be believed. The ancient plaza was illuminated both by the twilight sky above and by the quavering glow of the fold portal. The ruins of the plaza itself had been all but completely reclaimed by the dense, lush growth all around it, shadows illuminated by the fold as the day was ending. The only remaining feature that might have had any recognizable function from a more civilized time was a short altar near the glowing portal, a pair of crumbling low walls along the edges and several broken columns.

  But there was no time to consider this vision. Out of the soft radiance of the portal sphere the head and neck of the dragon protruded. The horns of the beast were thrashing back and forth, its jaws snapping at Urulani as she tried desperately to avoid its deadly maw, horns, and the raw power of its attack while striking blows against it at the same time. Jugar was urging the Lyric into the jungle despite her protests. Ethis had also drawn both of his weapons and was attempting to distract the creature. This resulted in one of the dragon’s horns connecting with his chest and flinging him with such force into a tree that he seemed to nearly be wrapped backward around its trunk.

  “By the gods,” Drakis muttered as he sucked in air and adjusted the grip on his sword. “How are we supposed to deal with that?”

  Drakis charged the front of the head, then dodged to the side, trying to strike but the dragon reacted swiftly, knocking Yithri into his path. They tumbled into each other, ending up on their backs desperately scrambling to get up again. He had barely found his footing when he was forced to leap suddenly to his right to avoid one of the many spiked scales protruding from the monstrous snout. There was a strong smell of sulfur in the air that struck Drakis as out of place, but he had no time to think about it.

  “Yithri! Kwarae!” Urulani shouted. “Stay over on the right!”

  “My right or the dragon’s right?” Yithri yelled back.

  “Your right, you stupid . . . watch out!”

  The dragon was fast, faster than Drakis would have thought possible in
a monster its size. Yithri had just leaped toward the beast, his ax raised over his head when the maw of the beast snapped in his direction.

  Yithri’s scream was quickly choked off as the massive, razor-sharp fangs and teeth plunged through his body. The dragon’s head jerked back in distaste, rising up high above the plaza as it pulled in a great breath through its flaring nostrils.

  “Take cover!” Jugar yelled just before diving behind the remains of a pillar at the edge of the plaza.

  Drakis caught a glimpse of Mala standing shaking in front of a low wall. He leaped, catching her shoulders and pushing her backward over the broken stones.

  Drakis felt the blistering heat against his back and saw the flash in his peripheral vision. He could not help himself. He had to look.

  The dragon was spewing fire from its upturned maw, a churning conflagration that exploded through the entire large plaza with roiling flames. The center was a brilliant blue color, a place hotter than Drakis had ever known. The strange trees, brush, and foliage encroaching on the far side of the plaza erupted into flame, their own heat adding to the conflagration.

  What remained of Yithri lay across the plaza, the stench of burning flesh filling the air.

  Proud are the dragons who hear the call

  Come at the sound of the song.

  Why come attacking

  in discourse lacking?

  Drakis stood up.

  Mala sat quivering, her knees drawn up to her chest and her back against the wall. “Drakis,” she whimpered. “Stay with . . .”

  Drakis stepped over the wall, his sword swinging loose at his side as he walked directly toward the creature.

  The eyes of the dragon fixed on him, its spike-crowned head turning at his approach. Drakis was barely aware of Ethis, the four-armed chimerian, running across the plaza toward him with the dwarf Jugar at his heels.

  The song in Drakis’ head was overwhelming.