"Where the hell are we?"
His question was rhetorical. Even so, I felt compelled to answer, if only to ground myself in cold, rational words. "The Council Chamber," I said quietly. "But… not the one we know. This is older. It's something erased. Something that shouldn't be."
Even to my own ears, my voice sounded subdued, as if the hush of this ancient place demanded a certain reverence. I didn't like it. I prided myself on being the predator, the one who held control, who dominated each scenario with cunning and discipline. Now, I felt like a trespasser in a giant's tomb, each footstep a sacrilege.
