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

backs leaning against the rear wall. Their eyes were closed lightly, though their lids fluttered, signaling the dreams, or nightmares ongoing within the confines of their tortured minds. Ryl hoped their dreams were pleasant. He’d experienced firsthand the nightmares. The potent terror was all too familiar. What horrors plagued their addled minds after so many cycles of intense abuse?

With care, the tributes were hoisted one at a time, carried delicately into the black wagon. Inside, the others had already been arranged into a tight configuration starting at the back of the wagon. Of the second group, three now slumped against the interior wall. A layer of blankets had been fashioned into thin cushions to help prevent them from being jostled too forcefully should the road ahead be overly rough.

Several of the tributes had opened their eyes in the process of moving them. Their eyes were glassy, staring out into the night with unfocused gazes. Ryl had quietly attempted conversation with the shell of the tribute he carried in his arms. The weight of the body cradled against him was startlingly light and his skin felt cool to the touch. The man’s eyes traveled in a seemingly random arc, pausing for an instant as his vision unintentionally fell on him. His brown eyes were clouded and unfocused. Ryl resisted the urge to look over his shoulder as the tribute seemed to be focused on something behind him, penetrating through his body as if he was transparent. The man offered no further acknowledging his presence or questions.

The sight, though haunting, was nonetheless encouraging.

Elias was one of the last to be moved. Ryl was adamant that he carry his friend between wagons. His eyes had opened as Ryl moved to hoist him into the black carriage. A distinct shudder traveled through the entirety of his body. In that instant, Elias’ eyes focused on Ryl with a pleading look. The pain in his expression chilled Ryl to the core. It was a look that had no doubt been on many of their faces at one point in time as they made their fateful trip in the accursed black wagon.

“Rest easy, Elias,” Ryl whispered, pouring a wave of comfort over his friend as he spoke. “Though the carriage is black, this journey will be to freedom. I’ll be by your side the whole time, my friend.”

Whether it was the words, or the emotion, Elias’s body relaxed as Ryl finished. With assistance, he rested his friend against the side wall, propped against another of the seated tributes. It was heart-wrenching to see his friend bound; to have to secure him to one of the metal rings that was fixed to the carriage’s wall. From this point, the journey to The Stocks would require a different configuration of their companions.

The seven donning the black cloaks would ride in escort of the wagon. All four phrenics would be clothed as Lei Guard along with Andr, Dav and Nielix. For the time being, Elias’ guard would be trusted to Soldi. Though he was a highly skilled, capable and trusted warrior, Ryl worried what would happen should Elias revert during their assault on The Stocks.

Rolan and Faya had been a fortuitous addition to their party. The father would drive the wagon, while young Faya had eagerly prepared for her part in the charade. The travel in the back of the wagon would be cramped, though the ride to the Pining Gates should only take a matter of hours from their current location. A section of black fabric had been secured from the ceiling of the interior of the wagon a step from the rear door. When lowered, it would prevent prying eyes from viewing the true contents of the wagon as the door opened to release Faya.

To the east, the sky was beginning to brighten from black to a stunning shade of deep violet, heralding the rapid coming of the day.

The Harvest was now upon them.

They took a moment to run through their plans as those riding as the Lei Guard quickly dressed in their black cloaks. All knew what was being asked of them. Ryl was hesitant as he slowly slid his arms into the sleeves. Though only carefully crafted fakes, the cloaks felt disturbing as they covered his skin. It was as if the fabric was tainted, exuding a hatred that he failed to comprehend. The sensation of its rough fibers rubbing over his tattooed arms was nauseating.

They had managed to secure only four of the wicked swords from their battle with the Lei Guard on the bridge at Serrate. A single shield was all they could salvage from the melee. Ramm easily hefted the heavy shield, choosing to continue carrying his massive warhammer. The Vigil, Dav and Nielix, as well as Andr, had claimed the confiscated swords in place of their current arms. Vox carried a short sword at his hip, though his hands would remain free for the use of his elementalist skills. Kaep wore her bow and quiver comfortably over her cloak, her small curved blades as always remained hidden from sight.

Having lost his previous blade during the battle with the assassins, Ryl claimed the last of the Lei Guard’s swords. The feeling of the weapon against his hip was ominous. Whereas the touch of the Leaves in his hands was exhilarating, the mere contact of this vile blade against his body revolted him.

The final task before leaving for the city proved to be difficult in its own regard. They all took a moment to bid farewell to the merchant who had traveled with them since chance brought them together in the woods south of the Sister Lakes. Aldren had quickly become a trusted friend and an invaluable companion.

Though his departure would be bittersweet, Ryl knew that the merchant longed to be reunited with his son. His boy, Cade, had ridden valiantly into the unknown with a clandestine message destined for Cantros, the seat of House Eligar.

The home of their friend, Lord Fay Eligar.

Armed with