Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2) by C.J. Aaron (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📕

“Up you go,” came the deep voice of Ramm.

The mountain of a man, still holding his massive warhammer in one hand, had Andr’s body completely off the ground with the other, yet showed no sign of strain. He released the mercenary and bent his hulking frame down, effortlessly scooping Ryl up from the ground.

In unison the group broke for the trees. Andr, running at a full sprint, struggled to keep up. Even Ramm, with Ryl and the warhammer in tow, outpaced him. Every step they took, the roar from behind grew in volume; he could feel the thunder of their feet on the ground.

The trees were only a few hundred meters away when Deyalou, Vox and the archer surged ahead, holding a meager line half the distance between them and the forest. The excitement from the approaching wave of death grew as they sensed their kill nearly within reach.

The three, weapons at the ready, backpedaled in retreat as Andr, Ramm and Ryl crossed their line. The Horde would be on them in moments.

They wouldn’t reach the woods in time.

“Down,” the archer screamed as she turned, tackling Andr to the ground.

The others crouched low.

From his position on the ground, he heard the telltale whistle of arrows as they streamed over his head. His hair stood on end as a deafening peal of thunder drowned out the sound of the Horde as it tore through the sky. Blinding white lightning streaked over his head.

The approaching line of the Horde wailed in pain as they tried desperately to avoid the bolts that sliced through them like daggers. The lightning exploded as it struck the ground sending showers of burning sparks in all directions.

The line faltered and slowed; the arrows continued to stream forward picking off any that pulled ahead. Andr wasted no time regaining his feet, crouching as he followed the retreating heels of the others.

The excited howl of their pursuers turned to a frenzied chorus of anguish, frustration and pain as their prey slipped into the darkness of the forest.

Chapter 19

Their frantic sprint slowed to a run as they entered the forest. None spoke a word as they plunged deeper into its depths. It wasn’t long before they stumbled into a moonlit clearing. The four with him were merely breathing heavily while Andr gasped for air. His lungs heaved from the exertion, his legs burned, and he collapsed to his knees at Ryl’s side. Ramm towered over the pair, having deposited Ryl carefully on the ground.

Out of all gathered in the clearing, Ryl’s breathing remained slow and steady. Although the young man was suffering more than any could imagine, for the moment, he rested peacefully. Andr felt his forehead, gladdened to note that the fever had broken.

Though the darkness of the night remained thick, the forest they entered was brighter than he’d anticipated. The light from the moon and stars appeared more vivid than in the desolate red expanse they’d just fled. Initially they'd raced between the thick trunks and hanging bows, though the forest thinned after a short distance. Grass, ferns and low broad-leafed plants covered the ground beneath the trees with a soft carpet of vegetation. Andr knelt on the cushioned earth that spread throughout the clearing.

A profound feeling of serenity filled the air inside the forest. They were still in close proximity to the Outlands—where the atmosphere had been oppressive and unsettling from the start. The ever-present feeling of being watched had grated on their nerves as they traveled through the withered and dead expanse from the sea. Whether it was the forest itself that felt calm and serene or purely the absence of the suffocating weight from the Outlands, Andr was thankful for the reprieve.

He looked up to find the nameless archer standing beside Ramm, hands on her hips, watching them.

“Thank you again,” Andr said gratefully. “How did you find us?”

“You can thank him for that when he wakes,” she said softly, gesturing toward Ryl. “He led us to you. What happened before we arrived in the clearing?”

She knelt down beside Ryl, studying his still form as Andr recounted the tale.

“I don’t rightly understand what happened,” Andr admitted, running his hand through his hair, buying a moment's time to catch his breath. As the rush of adrenaline had subsided, exhaustion began to take its toll.

“He lost consciousness the day before last,” Andr explained. “We were being stalked at night. There was no rest through the screams and howls. When I could carry him no further, I made a crude cart to drag him the rest of the way.”

Deyalou, the swordsman, slid up beside Ramm, listening intently to Andr's tale of the happenings of the last several days.

“We never saw them during the daylight. That is, I never saw them,” Andr stated. “Until today.”

“Could the boy see them?” A voice from behind asked.

Vox materialized from the edge of the woods, striding up to the group. Andr noticed his feet dragging ever so slightly as he walked. What toll did the fire that flowed from him take on his body?

“Yes,” Andr nodded, turning his head to Vox. “Not with his eyes though. He explained that he could see them with his mind. I believe what he said, but I admit, I don’t understand.”

“Nor would you,” Deyalou snapped.

Andr picked up a hint of animosity in his voice. He ignored it for the sake of his saviors.

“They followed us during the day today, blocking us from reaching the forest,” Andr continued. “They drove us into that glade. Until tonight, we’ve been lucky enough to find shelter inside caves in the ridges. That giant rock in the clearing was the best defensible position I could find. They came moments after nightfall, I would guess there were forty of them.”

“That’s far too large for a scouting party,” Ramm grumbled curiously.

“I assure you, their intentions were not to scout,” Andr snapped, more forcefully than he’d intended. “They