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

complete view of the interior. At the base of each gigantic tree, a slender opening created a door into the chamber below. Though he’d never stepped foot into the area, his mind confirmed the details. The clear, dry earth was dotted with patches of spongy mosses. A ring of a half dozen pallets lay dormant against the outside walls. They had the appearance of extreme age, yet the rest they offered was enticing. That they had remained intact throughout the cycles was a wonder.

The sprawling clearing between the trees was empty, yet it held the lingering resonance of activity. The ground was covered in a sweeping layer of thin green grasses. The pristine blades swayed in a breeze that seemed to materialize from the forest itself. Though in centuries, none had likely seen, nor stepped foot into this sanctuary, Andr could still feel the ghosts of the phrenic warriors of ages past who roamed the open space.

Confident that his picture of the inner sanctuary of the phrenics was complete, Andr focused on forcing the image outward toward the forest. He visualized the image that formed inside his mind, concentrating on the minute details of the environment. Gritting his teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut, the muscles in his face twitched as he strained. Andr pictured his visualization streaming from his body as if he screamed it into the depths of the woods. For what felt like an eternity, he pushed with all his might. The phrenics had explained the process as best they could, yet the application was foreign, as clouded as teaching one with no hearing what it’s like to experience a harmony of voices.

As he forced the image outward, his concentration wavered. His hopes of succeeding faltered, as did his energy. The strain was supremely taxing. When he felt that he could give no more, he snapped his eyes open.

The vision that registered in his brain was blurred. The details blended together in a great wash of earthy tones, shades of browns mixed with deep hues of green. Sparse patches of light blue seemed to glow and pulse throughout.

The image swirled as Andr’s legs gave out. The uncontrolled collapse to the ground felt never ending. His body was weightless as his shaking legs crumpled under him.

Hands supported him from under both of his arms, allaying his fall. It took a moment for the garbled tones to resolve into intelligible speech. The words were muffled, hidden beneath the thundering of his heart. His chest heaved from the exertion, and his breaths came in rapid sucking gasps.

The finite reality of the forest before him slowly registered in his wandering mind. The trees were identical to what had stood before him only moments earlier. No pathway had opened.

He had failed.

He angled his head to the side, looking upon the face of the one whose steady hands had supported him. Andr made no attempt to hide the regret. The doubt and the emptiness of failure were written clearly across his face.

Vox smiled as he spoke.

“Have no fear, my friend,” the phrenic responded. “The effort is taxing, even for those who’ve trained for the application. Those who were born with the gift you only just received are frequently disheartened by their early results. I felt your call. It was faint, yet it was clear. Never before has man possessed the ability to do what you did without the aid of the alexen in their blood.”

“Did the Erlyn hear it?” Andr struggled to form the words between heavy breaths. He felt his tenuous grip on consciousness slipping as the overpowering exhaustion weighed him down. His body sank further toward the earth as his legs failed to support any weight. The steadying arms under his shoulders braced him, holding him aloft.

The grin on Vox’s face grew. His gaze lifted from Andr to the forest before them.

The response came not from the phrenic elementalist, but from without. The wave of emotion rushed over him from all sides as the Erlyn flooded his senses with a feeling of hope and of calm. The sensation was rejuvenating.

There was a muffled rustle of leaves brushing together as if a gentle breeze moved through the trees. In front of him the woods rippled and swirled. Andr struggled to make out the image that materialized out of the contorting trees. After a moment, through blurred visions, the opening before him resolved.

The gap that opened between the trees was wide and tall, easily accommodating the wagon flanked by Le’Dral’s rebel guards. A breath of air pushed through the opening. It was warm, heavy with the scent of earth and a lingering hint of ash. The surface of the road was flat and smooth, though it had the appearance of being heavily traveled and well maintained. Short grasses grew along the edges, though they hesitated to encroach on the hard-packed earth of the roadway.

Glowing mosses were plentiful along the trees lining the path. At several seemingly random intervals, wide patches of dappled light streamed in from gaps in the foliage high above. In the distance, it was obvious that a clearing opened. The area was bright, shining through the gloom of the pathway like a beacon in the trees.

Without a word, the procession of wagons and tributes moved forward. Le’Dral was at the lead, ushering the weary fugitives into the mouth of the path. Vox eased Andr to the side of the roadway, allowing the procession to move beyond.

The captain grinned as he greeted Andr with an appreciative nod.

Ramm paused for a moment to place his hand on Andr’s shoulder. A gentle wave of appreciation flowed from him before he continued on. Andr caught the view of Ryl’s unconscious form as the wagon slipped by.

Several meters later, at the head of the tributes, Cray viewed the mercenary with a look of unrestrained awe.

Chapter 6

Commotion abounded in the inner sanctum of the Erlyn. The activity was endless, choreographed by the animated Mender Jeffers. The captain’s guards who remained in