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short as he realized his supplies were missing from their concealment alongside a root that jutted out further from the others.

“I’m glad you don’t intend on leaving us for long.” The voice startled him as it whispered from the darkness. A shadow separated from the edge of the tree, moving toward him with measured steps. Had the voice not given away his identity, the slight hitch in the step from an injury long healed would have.

He caught the pack as Andr lobbed it in his direction. The mercenary grinned as he reached his side. Ryl opened his mouth to speak. He was prepared to make his case. There was no force here that could hold him back.

“She needs you, Ryl,” Andr interrupted before Ryl could find the words. “You don’t need to defend yourself to me, my friend. I know what it’s like to have someone you care about taken from you. There are no limits to the lengths you would go. The end of the world and back is not far enough.”

The flash of emotion that crossed Andr’s face sent a chill down Ryl’s spine. The mercenary had grown to be his closest friend and most trusted confidant. They’d each been indebted to each other for the lives that still beat in their hearts. He was everything a brother should be. He was everything a father should be.

“I know the power that flows in your veins,” Andr said. “You’ll stop at nothing to bring her back. Remember that even you have limits. You’ve pushed yourself beyond the brink too many times. I won’t be there to save you if you push yourself too far.”

Ryl nodded his head absently as he shouldered his pack. The sentiment, while painful, was genuine. And heartfelt.

“Remember, you have a son who needs to know his father never abandoned him.” There was compassion in Ryl’s voice. He needed no added emotion to convey the feeling. “Tell him, Andr. It’s time he knows the truth. He’s stronger than I remember. He can handle it.”

Andr’s head lowered momentarily. His gaze focused on the ground between them.

“Aye, that he is.” Andr’s voice was pained. “I’ve watched him grow from afar for too long. For too many cycles.”

“They’ll likely wake in six days.” Ryl changed the subject. “Once they are awake and can travel, make for the western palisade. Stick to the forest. The Erlyn will show you the way. When it’s time, she’ll open the pathway.”

Ryl held his hand out to his friend. Andr grinned as they clasped hands. The mercenary squeezed tight, holding on for a moment longer than expected.

“Elias is the only one outside our group with the ability to open the pathway to this haven,” Ryl warned. “Though I don’t understand how he can, do not let them be lulled into a false sense of security. He will not likely return, though I do not know if he can instruct others. The Lei Guard were tributes once, and they retain some sway over her. If need arises, ask the woods for shelter. I know there is still safety in these trees.”

The thought was disconcerting. Ryl had yet to understand how the Lei Guard had made it through the wooded path without resistance from the woods. How had Elias opened the doorway as he fled with Kaep?

“If I’m not back by the time they’re ready, don’t wait for me.” Ryl spoke with confidence, a conviction that was potent. “The phrenics will guide you home. Take care of them for me.”

“Good luck, Ryl,” Andr replied.

With a nod, Ryl turned, closing the gap between the tree and the woods in a few long strides. Under the cover of the night, his passing was nothing more than a fleeting shadow. A darker wisp of black that darted towards the trees.

There was a rustling of leaves as the pathway opened before him. The telltale sound signaled its closure as soon as his body crossed the threshold into the trees.

With a thought, Ryl had commanded the woods, opening a pathway toward the main road that bisected the forest. He longed for a destination close to the entrance. Close to the orchard. Tabenville, with its great waterfall and massive statue of Taben the Defender, had been abandoned. There was no reason to return there.

Ryl slowed as he settled into the forest path. The alley he followed was straight and narrow, lined on both sides by slender trees and impassable bramble. Though free of sticks and more substantial detritus, the pathway was littered with fallen leaves. In varying states of decay, some crushed quietly, while others merely squashed underfoot as he strode forward. Unlike many he’d traveled under the forest’s domain, there was no appearance of maintenance here. The path was open, though the unseen hands that had kept the others clear of all blemish from the forest’s detritus were noticeably absent here.

The air under the trees was still. The temperature was surprisingly warm as if no breeze ever disturbed the placid environment beneath its arboreal canopy. It was rank with the smell of decaying leaves and a musty odor that heralded the effects of stagnant moisture. In the distance, Ryl could see a narrow opening, nothing more than a slit between the trees, illuminated by the light glow of the shining blue mosses. The gurgle of running water grew as he approached the exit.

The noise of the river breaking over the rocks was strangely cathartic. So much had happened in the last cycle that Ryl had a hard time wrapping his mind around it. Moving uninhibited throughout the forest, throughout The Stocks was a distinctly unnatural feeling. For cycles, though his movements were in appearance free, he was a slave to the prescribed tasks. There was always someone watching. Someone to answer to if he failed.

Ryl’s movements, his decisions now were made of his own volition. His purpose and his goals were of his own choosing. The tributes, while lingering in the midst of the troubling sickness, were still free. There was

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