Ghosts of the Erlyn (Catalyst Book 3) by C.J. Aaron (books like beach read .TXT) 📕

muted click as the lock hidden behind disengaged. The groan of the ill-used hinges sounded like thunder as they echoed through the alley. Cautiously, Andr swung the door inward, letting the light from the torch in Ryl’s hand illuminate the spartan room.

The area was nothing more than a crudely furnished cell that looked barely big enough for the pair of them to fit comfortably. A narrow pallet served as a bed along the left-hand wall, while the chest at its foot and the small chair on the opposite side constituted the entirety of the room’s possessions. Ryl closed the door rapidly, eager to abbreviate the audible complaints from its hinges.

“Welcome to the finest room in all of Cadsae Proper,” Andr spoke quietly in jest.

The room was cramped, but the space was of no concern to Ryl. The comforts of his finely crafted room in Vim had been more disconcerting for a time than that of the scene now before his eyes. An unbridled wave of nostalgia washed over him as the room was in truth more reminiscent of that which he’d survived in throughout the duration of his time in The Stocks.

“The rooms on the other side of the Palisades look eerily familiar to this,” Ryl whispered in reply.

“Aye, that they do,” Andr acknowledged softly. “We’d best get some rest. There’s little fear of discovery here. The door is thick enough to give us ample warning should anyone try and force their way in. There’s a trapdoor under the bed and a tunnel that leads to a false wall in the basement of a house not far from here.”

“Have you stayed here often?” Ryl asked.

“More nights than I care to count. Now get some rest,” he ordered.

Andr eased himself down against the wall across from the bed, leaving the pallet open. Ryl was hesitant to take the bed, but eagerly tossed his pack on the ground before stretching out on the hard, musty smelling pallet. The day had been long and eventful. He quickly slipped into sleep to the rhythmic sounds of Andr’s breathing.

When he opened his eyes, Andr was already on his feet, stretching silently on the opposite side of the narrow room. Several thick streaks of light filtered through the cracks in the wall, signaling the day had already begun. Ryl knew the city would be in full swing. Today was the last full day before the following morning’s Harvest.

Their plan was to visit the boisterous South Ward of Cadsae Proper as well as the docks. From there, they’d be able to simulate their steps for the next day, noting all positions of the guards as well as alternate routes should problems arise.

With nothing to pack, they abandoned the safety of their lodging, checking the alley was clear before moving quickly to regain their mounts. Ryl had flipped his outer cloak inside out owing to the blood splatter that had been liberally sprayed over its outside.

The intentionally unoiled hinges to the rear entrance of the stable squealed wildly as they entered. The stable hands on the other side showed no surprise at the noise, though one rose from his seat, marching quickly in their direction. The deadpan expression on his face gave no indication of his mood.

“Breila would like a word with the two of you,” he grumbled. “Follow me.”

Andr looked at Ryl and shrugged his shoulders as he followed the man toward the main entrance to the building. Instead of exiting through the front, he opened a door along the side wall, grabbing the small lantern that hung from the hook next to it.

The interior of the hallway was dark. The all-encompassing blackness ended with a dim flicker of a torch in the distance. Andr followed without hesitation; Ryl nearly jumped as the door slammed closed behind them. The shutters on the lantern suspended from the guard’s hand in front of them were partially closed, focusing its light straight ahead. There was no telling who or what lay on either side of the narrow pathway.

He could sense that they passed several offshoots, several sections where the darkness at their sides grew thicker. He noted the subtle gusts of the cross breezes as they passed the openings. The flicker of light grew steadily as they traveled down the discrete hallway. Before long, they reached the wall at the end of the straight path. A narrow, curving staircase, lit by a torch led off and upward to their right.

Their lead continued without pause, leaving Ryl and Andr to follow in his wake. Beyond the first landing the stairwell continued further upward, though they exited through a doorway along the wall. Ryl’s eyes had grown quickly accustomed to the darkness in the hall, and he blinked his eyes as the light that flooded in through the opened door momentarily blinded him.

Ryl recognized the hallway immediately. The plush red carpet on the floor. The silver and white of the walls. They followed the stable hand’s lead, approaching the office they had dined in the night before, this time from the opposite end of the hall. The young man knocked once on the door, opening it without waiting for a response. He waited outside as he ushered Andr and Ryl in.

The door closed behind them with an ominous thump.

Breila sat behind her desk on the far-left side of the room. Her arms were crossed under her ample chest. The look on her face was a far cry from the kindness he’d been a guest of the evening before. Ryl felt the heat and intensity of her glare from across the room. Her eyes followed them, boring through them in turn as Andr led the way past the table to the pair of chairs assembled on the near side of her desk.

They seated themselves in silence.

“I’ve never asked the true nature of your business. Nor do I honestly care,” she growled. “I thought we had an understanding that contracts were not to be carried out inside the walls of my house or in