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

head dropped down, resting on his friend's chest, and tears began to stream from his eyes in a torrent that seemed never-ending.

Elias.

His friend. His brother.

It was a comfort to know that at least somewhere within, a piece of the person he once knew remained intact.

Ryl felt the distinct absence of the tingling sensation in his left arm. He was convinced that the taint of the nexela had been fully removed. Yet now it was for the mind of his friend that he feared.

How long Ryl remained with his head on his friend's chest he was unsure. The regular rise and fall of his Elias’ breathing was a comfort to Ryl’s churning mind. He struggled to focus through the deluge of thoughts running rampant in his head. He forced himself to continue his regimented scanning of the surrounding area though his ambling mind was constant. There were no signs of any alexen from without.

Drawing himself away from the shell of his friend, Ryl had set about tending to the tributes that remained unconscious in the wagon. Of all, Elias had been the only one to show any sign of waking, even though their conversation had been brief. He’d just finished spoon feeding the thin broth to the last of their charges when the wagon ground to a slow halt. Ryl felt the shift in weight as both Aldren and Kaep climbed down from their perches at the front.

Moments later the flap at the back of the wagon opened revealing the darkened sky beyond. The flickering light of a torch illuminated the faces of both the merchant and the phrenic.

“We'll stop here for a spell while the others catch up,” Aldren announced. “Any change in their condition?”

Ryl took a deep breath before responding. He caught Kaep's eyes briefly, she flashed a sympathetic smile. Was his dejection that apparent to her?

“Aye, Elias woke for a moment,” he spoke quietly. He focused on sounding as positive as possible. He saw the merchant’s eyes light up at the confirmation.

“That is a positive sign,” Aldren interrupted politely.

“That it is,” Ryl confirmed. “Though to be honest, I fear for his mind. His thoughts were jumbled. Disconnected. It was encouraging to see a glimpse of his true self again.”

Ryl hopped down from the wagon. His legs were sore from maintaining his hunched position in the cramped interior. He leaned forward, gently massaging his thighs. Aldren placed his hand gently on his back.

“Have hope, my friend,” the merchant advised. “Their road to recovery is surely long, but you've done more in the short time that I've known you than have most have in myths. You’ve pulled them from an impossible life. If there is a way to return them to a sense of normalcy, I have no doubt that you'll see it done.”

The statement was empowering. His morose thoughts had overtaken the one dogged feeling that had powered him through the cycles.

Hope.

He felt the familiar fire burning in his veins. Ryl accepted the destiny that his life had been unwillingly forced into.

The tributes.

The Lei Guard.

Could he set them all free?

Parents forced into the decision of selling their child or fleeing for their lives.

Could he effect the end of the age’s old doctrine?

The weight of destiny was heavy on his shoulders. The Stocks would fall first.

After that, if he had to raze every production facility in the land, he would do so.

The quiet clop of horseshoes on the hard-packed earthen road grew from both sides. Ryl surveyed the area with his eyes then his mindsight. There was no sign of any alexen other than his phrenic companions and the tributes within the range of his vision.

The sky above was clouded, the dimly glowing orb of the moon diffused through the layer of wispy clouds hanging overhead. They'd stopped in a wide turn off that separated from the main road. Short, leafy trees lined both sides of narrow path, providing partial cover should wandering eyes still travel the road. Andr appeared through the darkness from the west, and shortly after Dav materialized from the east.

“The rest will be here shortly,” Dav stated quietly. “I waited for them at the intersection. The road has been free of incident for them.”

Ryl was unsurprised by the comment. There was little reason for any to interfere with the Lei Guard as they traveled. The black carriage was a clear giveaway as to their purpose. Even if there were those who knew not the black riders at the head of the wagon, their ominous look was sure to give pause and a wide berth.

“We'll wait for the others and then make for the farm,” Andr announced as he slipped from his horse.

“Aye. The hour isn't yet too late, and the road remaining is short.” Aldren chimed in. “I doubt Geshill will refuse us assistance. If he does, it won’t take a king’s ransom to buy his silence.”

Ryl felt a lingering worry at the comment from the merchant. Aldren was adamant that his associate’s vehement hatred of the system that had stolen his sister from him could not be diminished. Would he set his feelings aside if enough gold was thrown his way? If they needed to buy their way in, could they just as easily be sold out? The look on his face must have given away his anxious contemplation, even in the dim light of their lanterns.

“Your face can be easy to read when not covered by a hood, my young friend,” Aldren admitted with a smile. “He’d rather die than sell out to anyone connected with the Kingdom or guards. Your companions and your secrets will be safe with him.”

“My apologies for doubting, Aldren,” Ryl confessed. “By and large, my experiences with Damaris and the population have been colored by hatred and far from positive. I’ve seen firsthand the worst depravity that humanity has to offer. Only recently have my eyes been opened to see the good that still exists in the Kingdom.”

“There is no need for you to apologize, Ryl,” the merchant lamented.