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

the tunnel. They watched silently as the light glistened off the moistened rock of the walls. The reflections of the flames danced off the calm surface of the river below. There was a collective sigh of relief as the pathway emerged from the water in the distance. A matter of a hundred meters separated them from the continuation of raised stone along the edge.

The fireball continued onward, rising slightly as it traveled; jagged points of stone hanging from the ceiling grew closer. The ball struck the tip of a large stalactite, spreading out in a glorious shower of sparks. Thousands of tiny pinpoints of light fluttered down to the water’s surface, hissing as they extinguished.

A thunderous cracking noise ripped through the tunnel, echoing as it bounced off the walls. There was a deep splash of something massive striking the water. The party remained motionless. Silent.

Moments later, the first of the small waves surged over their pathway. Ryl stepped backward to avoid the water, but the attempt was futile. The icy cold liquid washed over their feet. Nielix, who was standing just in front of him in line, lost his balance as he slipped on the slick rock pathway. He pitched to the side, striking the ground hard, rolling into the water of the river.

Ryl reacted on impulse, lunging forward, grabbing the flailing Vigil by the back of his shirt. His leg slipped into the cold water. For a moment, a surge of panic raced through him as he slid further and further into the icy depths. His leg struck a solid ledge as the water crested above his knee. With his foot finding purchase, he wrenched Nielix out of the river onto the slick path. The Vigil slammed back into the ground, sliding roughly into the wall. Before Ryl could remove himself from the water, Nielix was in his face.

“Don’t lay your hands on me again,” he snarled in Ryl’s face. He looked deranged in the flickering light of the torch. “It’s your fault we’re down here in this sewer.”

Ryl pulled his leg from the chilly water. The anger boiled inside of him, yet his voice was calm to the point of antagonizing.

“Remember, Nielix, it was your choice to join this expedition, not mine,” he whispered. “Next time you go for a swim, you’ll do it alone.”

Nielix puffed up his chest, his face inches from Ryl’s. His nostrils flared as he glared into his eyes.

“That’s enough. Both of you,” Andr hissed. “Nielix, get yourself to the front, Ryl you take the rear. We move, now. We’ve already made enough noise to wake the dead.”

Nielix let out a low guttural growl as Andr dragged him to the front of the line. Ryl shrugged his shoulders as he made his way to the rear. As he sidled past Kaep, she placed her hand gently on his shoulder—he felt the sudden hint of electricity in her touch. The bemused smile on her face lit the darkness. The anger and animosity that had coursed through his veins moments earlier faded away. He resisted the urge to laugh.

He focused, sending a small wave of gratitude over the phrenic as he took his place at the rear.

Back in formation, the group made the slow, cold slog over the water-covered path. The steady and solid metallic tap of Ramm’s hammer on the stone pathway beat the cadence for their careful forward progress. It was with joy that they again reached the dry path. The rock walkway on which they travelled rose above the water to its side for nearly a meter. The pathway felt considerably more claustrophobic as the ceiling loomed closer, its rough stone points angled nearer to their heads.

The noise of the squishing of their feet in their waterlogged shoes became a constant companion throughout the day. It was hours again before the pathway sunk back toward the level of the water before opening to a small cavern in the rock wall. The ground here was dry and a small fire was soon crackling away, feasting hungrily on the wood of a spent torch. They’d removed their shoes and changed out of their wet apparel, letting them dry by the fire as they ate their carefully portioned rations.

“It’s been a long day,” Andr said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the group. “Let’s camp here tonight. We’ll start out fresh again after some rest. Ceado, you have first watch.”

There were no complaints from the others at the thoughts of rest. Ryl made his way to the rock wall furthest from the water, leaning his back against the cold stone. By all accounts, they should be halfway through the blackness of the journey. He longed for the light of day.

Thanks to his weary body, rest came quickly. The rhythmic sounds of his companions breathing helped lull him into a light sleep.

Ryl awoke with a start. His heart raced in his chest. The feeling was reminiscent of the agony that followed being awakened from a nightmare. He surveyed the group. All but one still slumbered. Ceado paced quietly along the water’s edge.

He knew that sleep would not soon find him again. Grudgingly, he retrieved his warmed, dried shoes from alongside the coals of the dying fire before moving to relieve the Vigil from his watch.

Ceado had moved slightly off to the left of the opening of the cave they now rested in, back in the direction they’d come. He greeted Ryl with a smile and a yawn.

“I’ll take over from here,” Ryl offered politely.

“Thank you,” Ceado acknowledged, happily handing over the lantern. “It’s been quiet. I could use a rest.”

The guard shuffled back toward the camp as Ryl scanned the area with his mindsight, followed by the light of the lantern. All was still.

Several paces from him, Ryl heard Ceado’s footsteps stop abruptly. He spun around, shining the light toward the Vigil. The man was standing close to the water's edge, leaning forward, eyes intent on something under the water’s surface.

“What is that?” the Vigil