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

a word or any sign of acknowledgement. Andr volunteered to carry the other side of the makeshift stretcher but the gargantuan phrenic waved him off with a gesture.

Andr resented the cold attitude he’d received since encountering the warriors, though in a sense he understood it. He was being led to a nameless society that had somehow survived the ages in isolation. Careful skepticism toward an outsider was understandable.

While he knew nothing of them, they seemed curiously well versed on the occurrences inside the Kingdom of Damaris. They knew of The Stocks. They knew of the tributes. They knew of the behavior and attitudes of the guards within its confines. Andr was at a loss; they knew so much about Damaris, yet the kingdom was oblivious to their existence.

The thoughts and possibilities kept his tired mind active during the trek onward throughout the afternoon. His eyes scanned the forest routinely for signs of movement. He’d neither seen nor heard any sign of the dark, disfigured shapes of the Horde since they’d entered the forest. As lethally talented as they were, his unwitting companions had appeared justifiably nervous at the abnormal behavior of the demons.

What had drawn the Horde out in numbers that defied the recollection of his capable saviors? He feared that the answer was laying unmoving on the litter next to him.

From the glimpses of the sky above, Andr knew that the day was nearing its end. They’d marched on throughout the afternoon without pause. Their pace had increased with substitution of the fresh legs carrying Ryl’s litter. The other individual who’d started off the morning stumbling as a result of the previous night’s strain had recovered. The warrior now strode easily along, seemingly unfazed as they made their way through the forest.

The early morning’s trek had led them through narrow, winding trails that carved their way through the forest’s interior. After their pause at the waterfall, they moved steadily on larger, more heavily traveled paths. Whereas the routes they’d followed earlier had the appearance of game trails, the ones they now joined had the look of a well-traveled and maintained pathway. The forest on either side grew thicker as they progressed; the branches and undergrowth blocking out the view of more than a few paces into its midst.

Andr chuckled to himself as the group no longer zigzagged from path to path, but instead following the single trail as it leisurely weaved its way through the forest. The procession paused at the corner of a bend in the trail. From Andr’s position alongside Ryl at the rear, the first several members of their party had disappeared around the curve ahead. A long, high-pitched whistle sounded through the woods, followed by a pattern of two short bursts.

The party had walked in relative silence throughout the day. The only sounds accompanying them were the crackle of dried leaves and the occasional snapping of a twig underfoot. This forest, like the Erlyn, was eerily quiet and seemingly devoid of life.

The uncomfortable calm stretched on as the group remained motionless.

Waiting. Listening.

The distant echo of their call broke the silence.

Kaep, who had been out of view around the bend, now walked purposefully back to where Andr waited by Ryl’s side.

“You now need to make a decision, whether you stay or leave,” she warned. “Once you round this corner, there is no turning back. Understand that you might never again leave.”

Andr fixed his steadfast gaze on Kaep. While there was a piece of him that cried out—pleaded for him to turn and run—his decision had already been made. His commitment to his promise, to Ryl, remained firm.

He had willingly agreed to follow Ryl into the void. He would not abandon him now.

“I will voice my commitment again, for the last time,” Andr’s voice rang with steely determination. “Where Ryl goes, I will follow.”

Kaep remained silent, her gaze locked onto his for an extended moment. Although he could not see them, he could feel her eyes as they bored through him. The feeling was disorienting.

A foreign wave of doubt rolled over him, and his mind was suddenly and perilously conflicted. A battle raged within his head as his ardent determination clashed with the invading reluctance. Maybe he should turn and flee? He could make it back to Damaris. He could silently melt back into society, and live out his days in quiet anonymity.

No.

He shook his head and the extrinsic feeling faded. He would not forsake his duty. He would not abandon his promise.

“I stay,” he spoke, forcing as much confidence into his words as he could muster. A subconscious retaliation to the attacking uncertainty. “Lead on.”

Kaep nodded her head subtly.

“Very well,” she said.

Without another word, she wheeled about, walking briskly back toward the head of the column, stopping just inside his vision at the bend. She exchanged a hushed word with the cloaked figure next to her and the line spurred forward.

Andr felt the excitement growing in him with every step toward the corner. Although ahead of him lay the curious unknown, the hopes of succor for Ryl, shelter and rest drove him onward.

Kaep nodded again as he stepped past her position at the bend.

He rounded the corner with eager anticipation. The orange light of the fading sun, partially cloaked behind the tops of the trees, streamed through the opening. He shielded his eyes from the glare as they turned to the west. Andr squinted as his view of the area before him came into focus.

A large clearing stretched out before his eyes; its tall green grasses swayed gently in the mild breeze. On three sides, the opening was walled by the forest. The remaining side was created by the rocky, near vertical ledge of the Haven Mountains.

He stopped, taking in the scene before him in wonder. Oblivious to his pause, the column continued slowly across the open pasture making its way toward the unbroken face of the mountain. The area was serene, yet something was amiss.

He heard the muffled footsteps of Kaep approaching from behind. She