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

Andr chuckled quietly under his breath, earning a stern glare from the mender.

The mender was a large man; his loose-fitting clothing did little to hide the bulge of his stomach that carried on down throughout his legs. He appeared to be in his middle cycles, yet his jovial face still maintained a look of youthful curiosity. His close-cropped hair revealed a large thinning patch on the peak of his head.

“If there’s nothing more, I’d like to tend to my patient now,” the mender lectured Andr.

Moments crept by as neither Andr nor the mender moved a muscle. The pair were seemingly locked in a struggle of wills. The mender opened his mouth, most likely to repeat his command, but Andr interrupted him before the words could form.

“I appreciate your concern and for the care you’ve provided our young friend,” Andr emphasized softly. “Ryl is still my responsibility. He’s been unconscious the better part of a week, most which I’ve spent here as well.”

Andr folded his arms defiantly across his chest.

“I stay,” he stated in a voice that offered no question.

The loose cheeks on the mender’s face reddened several shades as he glared at the mercenary. He inhaled sharply, holding in the breath; his already rotund frame growing larger. He exhaled noisily … and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Very well. Stay if you must,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Please do stay out of the way. I’m guessing the boy still needs his rest.”

Andr stepped to the foot of the bed allaying the mender with a smile and an overly dramatic bow before seating himself on the couch. The maneuver elicited a muted snort of a laugh from Kaep.

“I’ll go inform the council of his condition,” Kaep said as she cleared her throat.

Ryl watched as the judgmental gaze of the mender swung from his friend to Kaep.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort until I say he’s ready. The young man is still under my care,” the mender snapped. “Do kindly inform the council he is awake, but is not yet ready for their interrogation or instruction. His body still needs rest, needs time to recover. It's a miracle he's in the condition he’s in, I'll not have him bored to death by their long-winded overtures.”

Kaep afforded the Mender with a glare sharp enough to cut stone. From his relaxed position on the couch by the foot of Ryl's bed, Andr made no attempt to hide his bemused grin.

“I'll have you know; it is by the will of the council we remain and have remained unmolested for so many cycles,” Kaep hissed.

Ryl felt the wave of an anger flow from her body. The mender calmly held out his hand, taking a step toward the fuming phrenic.

“Yes, yes, yes, my dear Kaep,” the mender interrupted, his voice now calm and compassionate. “I trust and respect the judgement like the rest do. Unlike you, I am bound to time by a much shorter chain. When you get to be my age, you’ll understand there is a certain beauty in not rushing into that which is to be, anyway. Health and recovery are two things that should never be treated hastily.”

Ryl watched as her head slumped, followed by her shoulders. The fight seemed to leak out of her with the realization of her undue accusation. The look of utter defeat pained Ryl in a way he could not understand. Straining to focus, he concentrated on sending out the feelings of forgiveness and understanding.

The effort took a far greater toll than he’d expected. Ryl again collapsed back down into his bed. His body felt like it was sinking through the soft mattress, and his vision faded as his eyes momentarily rolled back into his head.

The mender placed his hands gently on her shoulders, speaking in a soft voice that broached no animosity.

“You are still young, Kaep,” the mender said. “You’ve been full of fight since the day I helped bring you into this world.”

Ryl’s eyes worked to focus on the pair. Her eyes were fixated beyond the mender that stood in front of her—locked onto his own. A look of profound understanding sparkled from inside their depths. She spoke to the mender though her eyes remained firmly trained on him.

“I’ll deliver the message, Mender Brasley,” Kaep whispered. “I’ll see they understand.”

She hesitated as she backed away, her vision trained on Ryl until she reached the door. Kaep’s gaze jumped back to the mender, giving a short bow before retreating from the room.

The mender’s head turned slightly as he tracked her soft footsteps in the hall until they disappeared out of the building. He shook his head as he inhaled a deep breath, letting out a substantial sigh of relief.

“Ticco,” the mender barked his order to the young man standing by the door.

The young man had remained motionless throughout the entirety of the conversations, first with Andr and then Kaep. His wide eyes blinked, his first sign of movement, as if he'd been too frightened to stir for fear of being discovered.

“I need you to go find Saldaria," he instructed patiently. “I need a petal from the rose. Please don't forget the plugs of cotton for your nose this time. I needn’t remind you that the smell is potent.”

Ticco nodded his head rapidly as he made for the door.

“Do hurry,” Brasley intoned. “I’m sure our friend here would appreciate his remedy soon.”

With a mumble the young man was off, seemingly all too happy to leave the tension of the room, despite the unpleasant task at hand.

“I should thank you, mercenary,” the mender said with a chuckle. “If not for the commotion you raised, it'd be me transporting that vile smelling petal across Vim.”

Andr grunted in response. The mender turned to Ryl, rubbing his hands together idly as he approached. He fidgeted as if his fingers were unsure of what to do without the tools of his craft in their grip.

Ryl's head still spun from the flurry of the recent activity. Even the miniscule amount