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

connected with the shoulder of the closest hunter. The man screamed in pain as he collapsed to the ground. Two of his companions dragged him to safety as the hooves of the horse pummeled the earth around him. The other rider grabbed the reins attempting to calm the startled mount.

“Get him up,” Joem called. “We leave now.”

Ryl and his companions watched as the riders helped their wounded companion into the saddle. With a final glare, they wheeled around, urging their horses into a gallop. It was only a matter of moments before they’d disappeared around the bend in the distance.

From behind, the sound of the approaching wagon grew steadily.

Ryl released his hold on the Leaves with his left hand, folding his arms across his chest.

Andr cocked his head slightly as he looked over in his direction. With a muted chuckle, the mercenary released the grip on his weapon.

From under the shadow of his hood, the wicked grin on Ryl’s face was painfully visible.

Chapter 6

The cloud of dust had yet to settle in the wake of the rapid retreat of the hunters as Ryl and his companions resumed their trek. It had been agreed upon that there would be no direct contact between wagons on the road barring a dire emergency. The approach of the black wagon visibly slowed as the hasty exit of the unknown riders was noted.

Andr quickly collected his horse, mounting it in one fluid stride. He angled the mount back toward the wagon, his voice was quiet yet serious.

“Stay alert,” he warned. “I’d be surprised if they doubled back with the appearance of the Lei Guard and the injury to their companion, yet I’d put nothing past them. Their thirst for blood has few equals. Dav, stay within sight.”

The Vigil nodded as he mounted his horse. Without another word Andr turned, spurring his horse ahead. He crossed over the dried bed of the stream, slowing when he reached the bend in the road.

Up until this point, his patrols had frequently taken him well out of sight as he scouted the road and terrain ahead. Ryl doubted if the seasoned mercenary would sever his visual connection with the wagon during the remainder of their trip. With the suspicious eyes of hunters in the area, extra caution was required. Though his watch was thorough, he knew Andr would devote extra attention seeking evidence of the fleeing father and his daughter.

Ryl rounded the rear of the wagon, pausing as his hand reached for the back flap. He focused, sending a feeling of calm over the phrenic inside. There was muted chuckle from within before the flap opened abruptly into his face. Kaep held the fabric door open, greeting Ryl with a smile.

He hopped easily into the rear of the wagon. For a moment their bodies brushed together as he squeezed past her. The magnetic sensation was there, yet he’d not been fully prepared for the strength of it. With effort, he forced himself past, sitting down before the first of the tributes. He thought he saw the hint of surprise flash across her face, yet he couldn’t be certain.

“I admire your restraint, Ryl,” Kaep said quietly as she made to exit. “I can’t say I wouldn't have buried an arrow in each and every one of them.”

In truth, he was a matter of moments away from ending their lives by himself. If not for the timely appearance of the black wagon, the Leaves would have surely come to life. Through actions that were largely out of his control Ryl had been thrust into situations where taking the life of another had become a necessity.

Submaster Osir whose torture and abuse had reigned unchecked.

The assassins at Tabenville who had sought his blood on the path through the Erlyn.

Master Delsith and his henchman who’d attempted to defile Sarial, nearly robbing her of life in the process.

With every situation, the horror of the aftermath had survived to haunt his thoughts.

Ryl recalled with nauseating clarity the instant the final spark of life extinguished from their eyes. Their deaths were a direct result of their abhorrent actions. Ryl had played the parts of judge and executioner. He’d felt a definitive satisfaction that they could no longer harm another living soul, yet he was repulsed by his actions.

He’d suffer the internal torment to prevent them from destroying the lives of others.

“I was only a breath away from doing the same,” Ryl admitted quietly.

His eyes quickly catalogued the interior of the wagon. All of the tributes remained as they had when he’d last seen them. He noted the slow rise and fall of their chests. His eyes lingered when they reached the shadow of his friend. Elias’ face was turned to the side, facing the back of the wagon. His cheek rested on the wooden litter below him. His rest looked peaceful. Ryl felt his insides twist with doubt and regret. What would remain of his friend?

“Please keep your senses open for the signs of a tribute as we travel onward,” Ryl said. “If luck is on our side, we can find them before the hunters do.”

Kaep locked her eyes with his. Their gaze held for what felt like an eternity. He couldn’t tell if she was studying him or searching for more answers.

“You’ll not stop until you’ve saved them all, will you?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Not if I can help it,” he responded without pause.

The corners of her lips turned up into a small smile.

“And I’ll be by your side until the end,” she whispered.

Kaep let the curtain fall as her voice stopped.

Ryl tracked the quiet crunch of her shoes on the loose soil of the road with his eyes. Moments later, Aldren gave the command to move. He was prepared for the gentle lurch forward, bracing himself with a hand on the side of the wagon.

His head remained down, arm against the wall as the wagon shook as it crossed over the uneven stream bed. He surveyed the surroundings with his