The Defiance of Vim (Catalyst Book 4), C.J. Aaron [best novel books to read .TXT] 📗

little he could do to aid them in their current state. There were those who could administer the doses of remedy. Those who could apply the cool, wet cloths when the fevers ran wild, and wrap them in the comfort of blankets when their bodies were racked with chills.

He would in no way forsake their needs. Their freedom, the promise of a better life, a life free from the machinations of those who sought to oppress them, would always be his priority.

Now, however, his mind was focused on another cause. Somewhere, miles in the distance, Kaep remained enslaved.

There was little time. He was loath to abandon her to the twisted fate that had befallen so many at the hands of the king. He shuddered at the thought of her strapped to a slab in a nondescript facility somewhere. The steady drip of her blood as it bled from the needle in her veins hammered in his chest, thumping with the beating of his heart.

The end of the forested path opened along the edge of the river that marked the eastern side of the road through the forest. Ryl had never stepped foot on the opposite bank where he now found himself. He’d never had the cause. The forest for so many cycles had throbbed with an unnerving call. His passing through her midst had always been as rapid as his feet and the shadowed terrain would allow.

The trees now whispered to him. The call was familiar, yet sung with a sorrow and remorse that were chilling. The Erlyn mourned for the loss of Kaep. It stung from the failure that had befallen under its boughs.

Ryl paused at the exit of the crude pathway. Only a few steps from the edge of the river, the ground was covered by a layer of moss leading up to a short, but sheer embankment. The sluggishly moving water of the river below lapped against the shore. The hard-packed earth of the narrow trail had given way to soil that was spongy and slick with moisture.

The water here was close to ten meters wide. Several small slick rocks jutted out from the surface, though none would likely provide adequate foothold. To the left, the opening of the forest loomed in the distance. The trees of the orchard stood out as darker silhouettes against the slowly brightening early morning sky.

The churning, sluggish rapids of the river at his front presented the most immediate concern. Ryl’s gaze attempted to probe the depths, yet with the absence of light, the rolling water was nothing more than an undulating sheet of blackness.

The thought of wading through the water was a less than alluring proposition. This close to the source, the waterfall and the pool at Tabenville, the temperature would be frigid. He’d experienced the icy liquid as he dragged the despicable sub-master Osir to the depths. The cold robbed his breath before it closed over his head. Chills ran through his body at the very thought.

In both directions, the meandering river maintained its width. To the north, the water disappeared into blackness as the forest consumed the remaining light from stars overhead. The scattered rocks, even with his enhanced agility, were widely spaced and slick from the splashing of the river, presenting a precarious crossing at best.

The idea struck him, like a spark that caught dry tinder aflame. Ryl turned to the woods at his side, placing a hand on the nearest tree. Closing his eyes, he concentrated, connecting with the forest. He was expecting the flood of information that overtook him as the woods responded to his command.

Every motion of the individual leaves rustled in his mind. He felt the gentle sway of the wind as it brushed the tops of the trees. The impact of every footfall on the soil of the hidden clearing thrummed through his body, each step a pulse that rattled across the surface.

Dew was forming on the leaves. He tasted the nourishment of the fresh, clean moisture. The uneven rhythm of thick drops of liquid thundered across his skin. Though separated by lifeless earth, the aftertaste, the sour tang of the inky blackness that leaked from the Lei Guard, turned his stomach.

Calling on the forest, he probed the trees close by for assistance. Several meters to his right, a young tree, older than a sapling yet still flexible and green, met his need.

The tree bowed at his request. The top arched downward as it leaned over the river. Ryl felt the pull and twisting of the fibers as it strained into position. He winced at the sharp lances of pain that shot through his body as the growing bark split in places. There was a creaking of wood as it flexed to its limits. He was careful not to push too far, though he knew the tree would cede to his wishes, no matter the severity of the request.

She had done so in the past. The Erlyn had willingly stripped branches from her limbs, unseating the rider carrying the treatments to Tabenville. The memory of the momentary agony and the lingering sorrow at the loss still were fresh in his mind.

Not willing to inflict the same pain, Ryl severed his connection when the tree reached a suitable pose. The rushing of the returning world was still as staggering as always. He stumbled a step before he collected his thoughts and control over his body.

Glancing upstream, to his right he spied the product of his effort. Several meters away a tree stretched over the river. Along his side, the trunk was still a meter or so above his head. On the opposite edge of the water, the tip of the thinning tree stopped a finger’s width from making contact with the hardened earth of the path.

Ryl sent a thought of thanks to the woods for the continued assistance. Hesitant to prolong the strain on the young tree, he hastened upstream, careful to avoid the loose, soft earth that clung precariously to the top of