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

Andr cleared his throat before entering the conversation.

“Our numbers have swelled since we first set out,” he stated. “I'm wary of the attention travelling in a group this large will bring.”

Ryl shared a similar feeling as his friend. There was still a profound need for subtlety as they progressed. The risk of running into soldiers or Lei Guard once they reached the main road or Cadsae Proper would increase dramatically.

Aldren's face lit up as the comment triggered a memory.

“I have an acquaintance who owns a farm outside of Milstead,” he stammered. “I've been buying the wool from his sheep for cycles. He's got a large barn we could hold up in and a place to stash the wagons out of sight for a spell.”

“Is he trustworthy?” Andr interjected.

“Aye, he is,” Aldren replied quickly without a hint of uncertainty. His voice was tinted with a slight suggestion of insult at the question.

“Not all are the devils you believe they might be,” he glared at the mercenary. “Geshill harbors the same sentiment as I. Though his is far more volatile. He has more of a reason to hate the system of the tributes than most."

Aldren paused, a look of sadness swept across his face. The moisture quickly filled in the corners of his eyes.

“They stole his sister when he was but a child. The trace of alexen in her blood sealed her fate,” he whispered, though the intensity in his voice grew with every word. “He never forgave his parents for selling her. Ran from them the first opportunity he got. Tell him you're heading to burn down The Stocks, he's likely to bring the torch.”

The comment stung Ryl deeper than any blade could penetrate. His repressed feelings of betrayal relished the opportunity to surge to the forefront of his mind. He struggled internally to quiet the revolt that waged inside.

He met eyes with Andr, the two sharing a knowing glance. Ryl knew that far beneath the surface, the rugged mercenary was feeling an anguish that he could never hope to understand. The mercenary had lost everything; his son, his wife, his house, to the Ascertaining. Ryl sensed the familiar heat build in his veins, could feel the fire swelling in his eyes.

“There will be time for that soon enough,” Ryl stated quietly, his voice dripping with unquestionable confidence. “Still, I think the fewer who know of our true intentions the better. If we can gain access to his barn, I'd like to sneak the black wagon in after the cover of darkness.”

“I understand,” Aldren acknowledged. “Now if there's nothing more, I'd like to stretch out for a spell. The road always takes a toll, even when it's not nearly as bumpy.”

With a nod, Aldren limped past them, stretching his legs as he headed toward the back of the wagon. The pair followed him with their eyes, watching as he left.

“We were lucky to have stumbled across him when we did,” Ryl admitted quietly as the merchant moved beyond earshot.

“Aye, that we were, Ryl,” Andr acknowledged. “It'll be wise to split the caravan when we set out in the morning. We're unlikely to meet travelers on this path, though the fewer eyes that see the wagons together the better."

Ryl and Andr turned their heads as the crunching of the loose dirt underfoot gave away the approach of the phrenics. Kaep and Ramm stopped a few steps away, greeting them with a smile.

“The Vigil are setting up camp just inside the treeline,” Kaep noted with a wave of her hand to the woods behind her. “We'll set a watch on the road north and south.”

“That's a wise idea,” Andr said. “The chance of any reinforcement having reached Serrate and discovered the facility is still low. We can use another quiet night.”

A low rumble sounded through the air. Ramm quickly folded his arms across his stomach. The massive phrenic shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

“I agree with you. We could all use the food,” Andr commiserated with the hungry phrenic. “We passed a small pool in the river not more than a few hundred meters north. Kaep and Ryl, care to try your luck fishing again?”

Chapter 2

The brief fishing trip was a success, although the narrow river contained few large fish. Ryl and Kaep had relied on raw emotion, forced outward, to coax the fish to the surface. The power of their phrenic minds held enough sway to bring their fare to the surface. What wasn’t able to be captured by hand, Kaep speared with the use of her bow and arrow. This tactic worked with an adequate degree of success. After the first few attempts, the fish spooked quickly and the river around them became barren. They returned to their small camp with a half dozen fish to the cautiously muted cheers of their companions.

Ryl had stopped again to check on Elias before making his way back to the small fire they'd hidden inside the tree line. There was seemingly no change in his condition. No change in any of the tributes' condition. Strange though it may sound, he longed to return them to The Stocks where he could commandeer the trusted services of Mender Jeffers.

After eating, he lay close to the remains of the small fire, wrapping his phrenic cloak tightly around him. The warmth from the dying blaze sapped some of the weariness from his body, and he closed his eyes finding sleep quickly.

Ryl woke with a start, sitting up from where he lay. The night was still. Through the opening in the foliage, stars flickered in the cloudless sky overhead. The remains of the fire glowed a light orange, the occasional quiet crackle issuing from the heavily consumed logs.

There was a muffled commotion from the wagon. Ryl was on his feet in an instant, scanning the area with his mindsight. He located Vox's signature immediately among the faint yellow glows of the ailing tributes. The sight next to him made