The Defiance of Vim (Catalyst Book 4) by C.J. Aaron (graded readers txt) 📕

slowed. Having to cart Kaep with him would inevitably delay him further. Ryl internally chided himself for overestimating the true condition of his friend. Was Elias far more hale than Ryl had assumed?

His actions prior to the arrival of the Lei Guard had done nothing to cause any additional cause for concern. What had happened to enact such a violent swing?

He had his doubts that any of his trusted friend remained.

Had he been able to get him to the Erlyn sooner, the tragedy could have been prevented. Losing Kaep, losing another phrenic, was a chilling proposition. He had come to save the tributes, to end the system of Ascertaining, which robbed children from their families. That butchered the faithful who refused to put a price on their love.

For now, the tributes were safe, hidden away in the security of the Erlyn. Da’agryn had assured them that there would be none to molest them. The woods, though weary, grew stronger by the moment. Her powers had assisted them, creating the illusions that scattered the ten thousand soldiers who’d attempted to run them down. In her weakness, she’d been deceived. There was still a part of the phrenics and of the tributes residing in the shells that posed as the Lei Guard.

It was an oversight that cost them.

Ryl felt the stinging loss. The wound of her absence, of his failure to protect those in his care, was all encompassing. The connection he felt for Kaep above all else was unexplainable. He sensed it with every fiber of his being. Merely the remembrance of the electricity, the energy, the sheer power that had coursed through him with her touch sent a tingle up his arm.

There was precious little time remaining to find her. The disturbing reality set in, further clouding his mood. Though the early sun shone strong from the sky above, the cloud that hung over him was thick and dark.

He would likely be faced with a choice. Elias would likely covet his prize. It was unlikely that Ryl could rescue her without the use of force. The battle was likely to require lethal measures. Could he bring himself to kill one friend to save another?

Ryl gritted his teeth at the frustratingly devious thought. He felt like screaming. The air hissed as it escaped from the slender gaps between his teeth. He needed answers. His frequent scans with his mindsight of the area to his front came back clear. There were no tributes. No Lei Guard. No Elias.

No Kaep anywhere to be seen.

Ahead, the horizon to the south was stained with a lingering cloud of dust. The army had risen, yet didn’t appear to be on the move. The force was likely headed north. Headed toward the Erlyn. Their sluggish approach was unsurprising. How far had fear run them afoot? Unnatural storms and lightning had struck with intelligent purpose. Fireballs had sprung from the hands of their attackers. An army had materialized from the impenetrable depths of the woods, instilling fear into even the most rational among them.

Ryl wondered if there were answers to be found among the swelling disturbance that marred the pristine skyline to the south. Would Elias have sought rest among the army marching toward the woods, or would he have pressed on?

Would he find himself face-to-face with an army of men, or would Lei Guard season their ranks?

The familiar heat burning in his veins intensified. Ryl’s pace increased unintentionally, his feet finding an even jog. Anger burned through him; wind swelled unbidden around his right arm.

An army now stood between him and the truth.

Ryl had covered the miles rapidly. By midmorning, he slowed to a walk. A sheen of sweat covered his brow, yet he was far from winded. From all appearances, the army that had gathered still lingered where they had camped earlier in the day, though he’d yet to view their numbers.

The rumpled hills of The Stocks obscured the view past the next. The rolling sensation reminded him of his brief time spent with Lord Eligar. His voyage on the ill-fated frigate and flight in the doomed skiff had been among rough seas. The view of their path was often hidden by the crest of the next wave, the destination always tantalizingly disguised.

Ryl paused for a moment, doffing his pack and drinking deeply from his waterskin. He chewed on a tough piece of hard bread to satiate the hunger that was growing. The noise from the south pulled his attention from the tough rations.

The rumble rose over the land like the approach of distant thunder. Tremors quivered the ground as thousands of feet marched as one. Ryl guessed they were close now. The vanguard was likely no more than half a mile distant.

Curiously enough, there were no forward scouts.

The oppressiveness that came from being within viewing distance of the palisades had blossomed the moment his body had crossed from the shadows of the Erlyn. The feeling had swelled exponentially as the day progressed. It now pulsed over his body, an added weight that sought to force him down, into compliance. It thundered over him with every footfall of the approaching army.

The time was fast approaching.

Ryl’s pace increased to a casual walk as he made his way to the top of the rolling hill before him. The change in elevation was only a matter of a few meters, yet the image that resolved as he approached the crest was dramatic.

The massed body of the army stretched out for hundreds of meters to the south. Owing to the narrow road, only a few walked on the hard-packed track. Blocked by the river to the east, the rest of the ranks spread out to the west, trampling the newly harvested fields in a disorganized column.

Ryl reached the peak of the rise and stopped to survey the approaching army. The force had churned the dust into the air. The passing upset the peaceful calm of the morning. The force that approached was notably more compact than the army they’d faced