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

time is running out, my friend. As I said, the patience of those who've sought your doom has expired,” Ryl warned, though his tone softened. “You showed kindness when others sought pain. From what I hear, you've been true to your word and have treated the tributes with respect, and for that you have my eternal gratitude.”

Ryl raised himself to his full height, taking a step back away from the desk. He let a gentle wind build around his right arm.

“Be wary of those you don't know and trust,” Ryl whispered. “Soon you will be called upon to make a choice the likes of which Damaris has never seen. Understand that either decision could rightly spell your death—yet define your life.”

The captain peered at him, his head tilting slightly to the side. Le'Dral opened his mouth to speak.

Ryl let free the speed that flowed from his veins. The captain’s mouth stood frozen open. With a quick flick of his wrist he released a short, focused gust of wind into the flickering flame of the lantern.

The room was plunged into darkness.

With a single step, Ryl was at the window. It was only a moment before he'd opened the panels, vaulting up onto the sill. The courtyard was still; no patrols disturbed its silent rest. He leapt down, rolling as his body impacted the grass.

His momentum carried him toward the bench where he'd left his second cloak. He grabbed the tattered garment as he passed, using a rapid downward blast of wind to propel him to the top of the wall. Within an instant he melted into the shadows of the alley beyond.

Ryl let time flash back to normal as he threw on his second cloak. A moment later, the face of Captain Le'Dral thrust out the window to his office searching the area outside. The wide-eyed expression on the captain's face was the last thing he saw as he turned away.

“See you in the morning, Captain,” Ryl whispered.

Chapter 21

The narrow, poorly maintained avenues between the downtrodden buildings of the East Ward were silent as Ryl and Andr slipped quietly from the city. The pair of guards manning the gate paid them no mind as they rode past, disappearing into the night.

The moon above was nearly full though the sky above was clouded. The light, though diffused through the cover, illuminated the land in a soft glow. After his meeting with Captain Le’Dral, Ryl had returned to the hidden room behind the tavern. He was able to catch a few hours of sleep before they crept from the city, destined to meet the phrenics, tributes and the rest of their companions.

Their path from the East Ward had followed a roundabout course, passing by the mender’s private clinic. Ryl was relieved to see a small covered wagon waiting in the shadows off to the side of his house. Both the mender and Breila had been true to their words; Cavlin would be delivered to the barracks before dawn.

Ryl’s mind was now focused elsewhere. Though he had managed only a few short hours of sleep, the brief rest had left him feeling rejuvenated. The time had finally come. They would soon march on The Stocks.

His promise to free the tributes would come true, or they’d die trying.

They urged their mounts into a steady canter as they merged with the main eastern road leading from the city. As within the limits of Cadsae Proper, Ryl was diligent in his scanning of the surrounding area. He’d seen no sign of the devilish black stains of the Lei Guard. The handful of occasions that he was able to catch the golden glow from the tributes had left him yearning for more. He longed for the welcome that close proximity would bring.

Soon enough, he kept telling himself.

Owing to the hour, the road was deserted. Their only company was the quiet chirping of insects and the distant splash of the sea upon the shore. A gentle breeze blew off the water, carrying with it a hint of brine.

They made quick work of the short miles under the dim light of the moon. Reaching the intersection with the northerly road, they slowed their horses to a walk, though they moved with an alert eagerness that was impossible to disguise. They should be nearing their companions shortly. Every passing footstep that failed to show signs of their presence was a cause for concern.

The trepidation built as they marched further north. Every step moved them farther from Cadsae Proper. Minute stretched past insufferable minute. Ryl continued searching the area with incessant persistence.

His sense of relief was profound when he first marked the telltale glow of the phrenics to the north. He released out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in with an audible sigh.

“They’re just ahead,” he announced quietly to Andr. The mercenary nodded as he scrutinized the moonlit area for any sign of motion.

Ryl smiled as a wave of relief washed over him. The force of it was surprising, strong enough to unsettle their mounts. The horses snorted, stomping their feet in protest. It was a matter of a few moments before they regained full control of the spooked beasts.

Ahead to their left, just off the side of the path, a lone pinpoint of light flashed to life. They maneuvered their horses toward it as another pair of torches took to flame, illuminating the caravan that lay waiting along the road.

The two wagons were parked in a line several meters off the road against the edge of a small stand of trees. Aldren’s wagon was in the lead. The black wagon was stopped a few meters from its rear. From both sides of the carriages, black cloaked figures materialized from the dark, approaching Ryl and Andr. Their sudden appearance sparked an instant of fear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andr tense as well. Even though the disguises were of their own construction and the figures underneath their friends, the sight was