Ghosts of the Erlyn (Catalyst Book 3), C.J. Aaron [book recommendations .TXT] 📗

accomplished with ease, providing that the Erlyn permitted your travel," Da'agryn lamented as his gaze absently travelled the room.

"The journey now is as perilous as it is exhausting," he admitted. "The remaining pockets of energy, of life, that remain through the fractured woods outside are barely enough to sustain my form along the trip. The tree was of the last vestiges of power where my form could once again take shape. I had no option but to return here, to the Erlyn's heart. My recovery has been lengthy. Only recently have I regained true control over a portion of my abilities. I will need to rest before I can truly aid you again."

He paced slowly behind the flickering light of the blaze.

"You have been our constant, you've guided Vim through the ages," Kaep interjected. The hurt and doubt in her voice rang through her steeled words.

"And my message has been received," Da'agryn smiled. "The time for prophecy has passed. The catalyst is present. The future is for you to decide."

Ryl felt the uncomfortable weight, the weight of unplanned destiny, fall on his shoulders. He struggled to maintain his posture, slumping under the crushing pressure.

Without waiting for a response, Da'agryn continued.

"The evil that descended on that tree was alike nothing I'd ever experienced. The Horde were not alone. There was something else there with them, something I cannot explain.”

"The cloaked figure," Ryl gasped as he rubbed his hands against his temples.

With all that had happened over the last moon, with all that he'd learned about himself, with his understanding of the relationship between the alexen and its counter—the connection was now crystal clear.

All eyes in the room turned to Ryl.

"I should have recognized the connection earlier. The correlation is obvious," Ryl announced. "That figure, with the last of the Horde to leave the tree. That was a Lei Guard."

There was an audible gasp from Andr at his side.

"How is that possible?" The mercenary asked. "The Lei Guard's we've seen were human. Why did the Horde not tear them to pieces?"

"If the Horde can sense each other, much like the phrenics can using their mindsight, perhaps the infusion of nexela into their blood makes them think the humans are one of them," Ryl pondered aloud. "It disguises their true identity."

On the opposite side of the fire, the storm in Da'agryn's eyes began to churn.

Ryl inhaled deeply, steadying himself before delivering the information.

"The black guard that bear Leiroth’s name are more than just men augmented with the powers of the Horde," Ryl added. "The inject the vile nexela into the husks of the tributes after every last drop of alexen has been milked from their veins."

Da'agryn’s stare hammered into Ryl. The fire between them slowed, its flames seemingly freezing in air.

"Leiroth," Da'agryn breathed. His raspy voice was a whisper, yet echoed throughout the hollow chamber. "One sin was not enough."

The elder phrenic reached his feet with a fluid grace that belied his weakened state. His cloak and features solidified as he stood tall. The withered frame that had moments before ambled across the cavern floor rose to its full height. He seemed to swell in proportion to those gathered in the room. Da'agryn now towered over those gathered.

Starting with his feet, his cloak began flickering at the hands of an unseen wind. Da'agryn's chest rose as he inhaled a deep breath; the walls of the chamber flexed inward as he pulled the air into his lungs. They pushed outward as he let the air slowly escape through his lips.

Ryl could see the raw fury churning within the depths of his eyes. All trace of a smile had faded. In its place was a concrete look of chilling anger.

As if on cue, a feeling blossomed over the cavern, pushed from the woods without. A serene calm washed over all within the cave. Ryl breathed a sigh of relief he'd not realized he'd been holding.

The sensation sapped the fight from Da'agryn; his body withered before their eyes. His frame became opaquer and more hunched as he reverted to a state of calm. The smoldering blaze resumed its low, steady burn. The quiet crackling of the flames of the fire filled the room.

Accompanying the pacifying feeling came a second emotion that pulled on his senses. Ryl turned his head; he could see the confusion in the eyes of his companions. Andr seemed at a loss, and he shuffled a step backward toward the door. A look of shock was written across his face, as if his movements were involuntary and beyond his control.

It was Da'agryn who spoke first.

"If what you say is true and the corrupted shells of the phrenics walk among the Horde; if the demons answer to the Lei Guard, then you have far more to fear than the race of man," the elder phrenic breathed.

His head dipped for a moment, his eyes seemingly scanning the floor at his feet.

"This changes the course of events. It likely explains the timing of your coming," Da'agryn continued. "The significance of the markings on your left arm as well are likely tied to this fate."

The call from the forest was repeated, the urge more powerful than the first. Da'agryn nodded his head subtly, mumbling inaudibly to himself. When his head rose up, he looked squarely at Kaep and Andr. A wry smile tugged up on the corners of his weary lips.

"The Erlyn beckons," the elder phrenic whispered. His voice was soft and airy. It was felt more internally than heard with the ears.

"We must make haste. She has assistance to provide and time runs short."

Chapter 39

The trio followed Da'agryn out of the chamber and through the tunnel hewn through the shimmering rock. The flickering light of the dying fire faded as they exited to a dimly lit path, different from the one they'd entered through earlier that day.

The poorly lit avenue was dotted by small patches of light given off by glowing blue mosses that clung to the trees along its sides.