Ghosts of the Erlyn (Catalyst Book 3) by C.J. Aaron (books like beach read .TXT) đź“•
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- Author: C.J. Aaron
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“Come, you must all be hungry? It shouldn’t be long now. There’s enough to feed everyone,” Zayah’s voice was quiet, yet genuinely inviting.
Geshill nodded to his daughters before leading the phrenics and their mounts around the back of the house toward the stable in the distance.
Ryl followed the sisters, Rolan and Faya into the farmhouse. The warmth of the interior and the smell of the meal was exhilarating, though it sapped the remaining strength from both the newcomers. Rolan stifled a large yawn as they entered the building. Faya leaned wearily against her father’s leg.
Not only had the sisters launched into the manufacture of the cloaks, they'd eagerly taken on the tasks of cooking for the group secreted away at their father’s farm. The excursion to the town that morning had been fruitful on several fronts. Ryl had succeeded in saving the father and his daughter from a tragic fate at the hands of the hunters while Aldren and Geshill had covertly restocked their dwindling supplies. Not only was food ready for the party from Vim, pots of broth were brewing to feed the ailing tributes that had been rescued from the facility in the shadow of the Martrion ruins.
Aldren was stirring a pot on the large stove that rested along the side wall of the kitchen as the group entered. His face was awash with relief as he noted the entrance of Ryl and the family. He greeted Rolan and Faya kindly before making his way to Ryl. He did his best to hide the moisture that was welling in his eyes as he placed his hand on the phrenic’s shoulder, giving it a knowing squeeze. No words were necessary.
Ryl nodded his understanding.
Willa approached Rolan and Faya introducing herself politely before kneeling before the child. She spoke in a tone that was kind, sympathetic yet not at all patronizing. Within moments, she’d coaxed the child's hand from around her father’s leg, leading her gently to a chair along the table. Rolan smiled as he followed in their wake. Ryl knew not when the pair had last eaten a decent meal. Both were emaciated past the point of merely having a skinny frame.
Zayah was quick to serve both, carefully depositing a steaming bowl of stew in front of their seats. Rolan gently placed his hand on Faya’s arm, staying her eager motion as he looked around the room. They were the first two seated and the only ones that had been served.
“Please, eat. There’s no need to wait for the rest of us,” Zayah announced kindly. “From the little we’ve heard, you’ve weathered more than your share of trials. A hot meal will do you wonders.”
“Thank you for your kindness. All of you,” Rolan whispered as he looked around the room. His eyes met with all assembled, meeting Ryl’s last. “We owe you our lives.”
Ryl smiled calmly at the father before his eyes moved to Faya who was hastily devouring her food at his side. Inside his body, the blood raced with emotion.
“You owe us nothing, my friend,” Ryl admitted honestly. “It’s fate we have to thank that our paths crossed when they did. Your lives are your own to live as you please.”
The father looked at Faya before hanging his head slightly. He could sense the tension and apprehension growing within him.
“Where are we to go? What are we to do?” he pleaded. “They won’t abandon chase so easily. Though they may have been halted today, how long will it be until more come?”
The events of the day had unfolded at a startling pace. Ryl had been too consumed in the moment to ponder the long-reaching implications of their situation. Though they’d scored a decisive victory today, the hunters would never give up.
How long would it be before the Lei Guard was employed to track the wayward tribute? When the wreckage of the hunters was discovered, he guessed the answer would be: not long. With even a rudimentary ability to track the alexen in the tributes, there was nowhere they could hide that would be safe.
It was only a matter of time before they were discovered.
Before Rolan was slaughtered and Faya was hauled in chains to The Stocks.
Ryl clenched his fists together tight enough that his knuckles went white. He’d not saved them so that they could continue living their lives in fear of the next hunter’s blade. The answer to the problem at hand was startlingly clear.
There was nowhere in Damaris that would be safe for the pair of them.
If remaining in the Kingdom would be akin to a death sentence, then there was little choice left.
Rolan and Faya would come with them.
“It’s true, there will likely be nowhere safe for you in the entirety of the Kingdom,” Ryl stated plainly, though a mischievous smile crept steadily across his face. “That’s why you should come with us.”
Faya dropped her spoon into her bowl; the clink of metal on the pottery rang throughout the room. She looked at Ryl, her blue eyes boring into him.
“Where will we go then if not Damaris?” Rolan asked.
“Somewhere they won’t dare follow,” Ryl responded. “The Outlands.”
Chapter 14
Ryl had waited until the majority of the party had been assembled, fed and Faya had been put to bed before detailing the bulk of his plan. Geshill had generously offered the use of one of the spare rooms in his farmhouse to Rolan and his daughter. The rest of the group was more than content to sleep on the floor or even the hard, swept ground of the stable.
Understandably, Rolan was initially hesitant at the prospects that were presented to him. He went to sleep that night with a profound decision weighing on his mind. Though Rolan’s knowledge of the true skills of the phrenics was lacking, Ryl had detailed his plan for them to accompany the party to The Stocks then the Outlands beyond. It had been
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