Rite of Exile: The Silent Tempest, Book 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

normal life.
    Telai grasped a slender cord hanging to the right of the doors. “Are you ready?”
    Caleb faced the entrance, his hand still wrapped around Warren’s. “For the Overseer and her Council? As ready as I’ll ever be.”
    She flicked a smile. “Though you should choose your words carefully, honesty will serve you better than clever answers. My mother can be willful at times, but she’s never unfair.”
    He blinked at her. “Who?”
    “Why, the Overseer, of course.” She froze for an instant, then let her arm fall to her side. “Great Hendra!—I forgot to tell you.”
    Caleb’s gut tightened. “The Overseer is your mother? ”
    Telai nodded quickly, cheeks reddening. She glanced at the doors, chewing her lower lip. “I’m not allowed inside the council chamber. But Warren can wait outside with me, if you like.”
    “But Telai—he needs to become a citizen, too!”
    “Don’t worry. Children under thirteen aren’t required to be present during the Judgment. It’s the adults they want answers from. Technically I don’t have the authority to grant this, but I’ve never known the Council to deny it.”
    Caleb breathed deeply, readily accepting her plea for absolution. “Thank you. Now open the door before I lose my nerve altogether.”
    Telai tugged on the cord, and three deep tones sounded from high above. Caleb looked up, expecting a silver bell or some such treasure, but the cord disappeared into a small opening in the roof.
    The heavy doors swung inward to reveal a pair of elderly attendants, a man and a woman, their meticulous clothing reflected in the dark sheen of a marble floor. “No need for your services today, door wardens,” Telai said. “I’ll accompany Caleb Stenger to the Judgment chamber.”
    “I’m sorry, my lady,” said the woman, her deep blue eyes traveling up and down Telai’s damp clothing. “That’ s not permitted.”
    “Derré, I won’t enter the chamber. I’ll just wait in the passage outside. It’s been allowed now and then for the rare supplicant—and if this man doesn’t qualify, who does?”
    The woman considered this, then bowed curtly and stepped aside. Telai led Caleb and Warren through the short but wide foyer; the doors closed with a traveling echo, and Caleb felt as if his escape had been cut off. He tried to convince himself that his welcome was already established, the Judgment a mere formality.
    They crossed the floor of the main tower. Long, triangular segments of marble converged at its center like the spokes of a wheel, each bordered in silver and inlaid with a rune made from a sparkling array of red gemstones. Dust-speckled, colorful beams of light shone through the stained glass windows. At the center of all this opulence stood the granite likeness of an old woman. Dressed in a loose robe or long smock, she wielded a real-life sword toward the entrance as if guarding the palace, while her other hand clasped a tightly wound scroll trimmed in gold.
    Warren kept goggling at the ceiling. Caleb followed his stare, and despite his ease with heights his steps wavered in sudden vertigo. Painted historical or mythological events traveled from a marbled wainscoting all the way to the zenith, the details of the highest nearly lost to sight. Archways trimmed with alabaster and obsidian led to smaller towers, while the highest arch of all rose directly before them.
    Caleb stopped. “Michelangelo.”
    Telai’s brow creased as she turned to face him. “What?”
    “Not what, who . He was a great artist on Earth, centuries before I was born. He did something similar, paintings on a ceiling which told stories, or depicted important events.”
    “Here, too,” she answered, and stepped closer to point out one of the larger murals. “That one honors the victory of Aén’Agrin , where the Hodyn were finally driven out of central Ada.” At first Caleb only saw a confusing melee of soldiers, swords, and flying arrows. Then he spotted a lone mountain in