by C. J. Aaron
“Lie still,” the voice hissed.
The timbre was harsh. It forced its wicked notes into her ears without consent. The tone was biting, stinging her with its abrasiveness. Though the words were clear, the sound was more guttural, more animal-like than human.
The change in tone from the horse’s hooves was accompanied by the rushing sound of water from underneath. The solid hoofbeat on stone was replaced by a hollow echo. A moment later the pace slowed as the noise again reverted to that of solid stone.
Kaep felt the approach before she searched for it. The welcome warmth she knew to be phrenic carried over her body. The sensation strayed further from what she had grown accustomed to with every step. It was unlike the familiar feeling of being near her phrenic companions or the tributes. Their warmth was soothing, a balm to her soul, glowing with a comforting yellow-golden glow. This was harsh. The initial warmth quickly faded to a chill so intense it burned. The sense was dark, an infinite void that stung as it blanketed her skin.
She called on her mindsight, though she feared the result.
She and her captor approached a blackened mass. The shadow that swelled in her vision was so deep, so impenetrable that it appeared to swallow the light that struggled to escape its gravity. She felt the sickening sensation of being pulled toward it, yet was repulsed at the same moment.
The alexen in her blood screamed in protest.
They cried out in alarm. In panic.
In fear.
As the blackened mass drew nearer, her captor stopped. She could almost sense the nervousness ooze from his body as he paused before whatever loomed to their front.
“Ah, you’ve returned.” The greeting was cold. The voice was airy and weak, yet commanded a power that was shocking. The words seemed to rumble through her, ricocheting through her bound body, bruising where they struck.
The chill of dread tore through every inch of her frame.
Chapter 26
“You knew.” Le’Dral’s voice was agitated, raised above its normal collected demeanor.
“You knew, yet you let him leave,” he scolded, pointing a finger at the smaller of the cloaked phrenics before him. “The combination of your selfish actions places us all at risk.”
Ramm flexed his muscles, raising himself to his full height. His massive frame seemed to swell further. He stepped in front of the stoic Vox, who had taken the brunt of the verbal lashing.
The gigantic warrior glared down at the captain. Though his eyes were lost beneath the shadow of his hood, the animosity in his stare was evident. To his defense, Le’Dral stood firm, not backing an inch from the affront. Lieutenant Moyan moved forward to his defense. The extraordinarily large officer still appeared modest in comparison to the hulking phrenic.
Andr shook his head as he stepped between the two parties. He placed his palm on each of their chests, gently pushing them apart.
“And you did nothing to stop him either.” Le’Dral turned his attention from the phrenics to Andr.
In truth, Andr had already received a tongue-lashing from the captain, though the agitated words fazed him not. He grinned as he replied to Le’Dral’s comment.
“Aye, I did not.” His honesty was disarming. The captain relaxed slightly. “His mind was made up. You know as well as anyone how stubborn he can be. There is nothing I could have done to prevent him from leaving.”
Le’Dral sighed.
“There is still an army nipping at our heels,” the captain retorted. “Whether they move for us, or await reinforcements, it is uncertain. Millis should return soon with word of their disposition. We can ill afford to lose the most capable fighter we have. If you haven’t noticed, we are dangerously short of blades. Most of my men have been conscripted to the aid of the mender.”
“We are without our two most capable warriors.” Ramm’s deep voice rumbled in response. “Kaep’s blades and bow are irreplaceable.”
“Aye, as assuredly as that is, it brings us little comfort. It further hinders our chances for survival,” Le’Dral snapped.
The agitated captain began pacing from side to side.
“Ryl will return,” Andr replied confidently. “His word has been unwavering.”
“An army stands between him and his prey,” Le’Dral replied.
“The army will pose little threat should they decide to engage him. Whether he chooses to go around or through them, it will slow him but little,” Vox replied with a matter-of-fact tone that was chilling in its implication.
The captain paled at the thought of a single man standing firm in the face of an army. It was true, Ryl was uniquely gifted, yet there was a fine line between confidence and foolishness.
“Now, if you will, I must return to the entrance, or your scout will find no pathway to the safety of this sanctuary,” Vox grumbled as he turned from the captain.
Without waiting for a response, the phrenic elementalist turned from the captain, striding to the closest point of the forest. He nodded to Andr as he passed. Within moments, the forest shuddered as a pathway in its gloomy interior opened. With a rustle of leaves it closed again, leaving no trace of its existence.
Le’Dral’s eyes hovered on the space where the pathway had been only moments earlier. It was with a profound sense of wonderment that his vision traced the perimeter of their arboreal safe house. For a moment, the look written across his face displayed a childlike giddiness as he marveled at the mysteries that surrounded them.
The soft padding of Ramm’s feet on the ground was all the audible notice the phrenic deemed necessary. His abrupt departure signaled his part in the conversation had concluded. He moved with purpose toward the opening of the great tree that Mender Jeffers called his office.
The rare display of emotion from the captain had blanched as his gaze fell again on Andr.
“Blast. Are they all as stubborn as Ryl?” His rhetorical question elicited a grin from the hardened mercenary.
“Aye, they can be an independent bunch,” Andr replied. “You have to understand, they are not accustomed to taking orders from those not initiated to their order. There were but seventeen phrenics alive when we set out from Vim. Their sword master, Deyalou, was killed along the way. With Kaep’s fate now uncertain, the loss cannot be understated.”
Le’Dral seemed to be moved by the words as the harsh truth of the statement weighed on him.
“In all honesty,” Andr continued, “you should be thankful that Ryl was able to convince Ramm and Vox to remain behind. They understand that Ryl is the best hope for her now. I fear the consequences if she is not returned alive. They may raze the kingdom themselves.”
Andr didn’t understate the consequences if Kaep’s life was lost. They had left on the quest to free the tributes and, by doing so, potentially add hundreds of phrenics to the fold. The loss of a second phrenic could rightly spell certain doom for the kingdom. The pair was more than capable of bringing down the palisades. They could just as easily let the armies of the Horde through as the price of the loss of phrenic blood.
The kingdom would doom itself. There would be no assistance from Vim at that point.
“What of the boy who’s gone missing?” Le’Dral inquired. “Are we sure that the Lei Guard doesn’t lie in wait, picking us off one at a time while we grow complacent under a false sense of security?”
Andr shook his head adamantly at the insinuation.
“On this, I trust Ryl wholly,” the mercenary argued. “And as confusing as the feelings are, I trust my own intuition on the matter as well. The Erlyn would know if the imposter or the phrenic remained in her midst. She has been fooled once. It is not a mistake she will repeat.”
Andr could tell Le’Dral was skeptical of the answer, yet he pressed on.
“I can’t rightfully explain the answers that are whispered to me from the forest. I know things, without evidence, just because they are.” As Andr spoke, he ran his hand subconsciously through his hair. “The Erlyn and Ryl have given me no reason to doubt. All
I’ve seen and experienced, though unbelievable as they usually are, have been true. If she or Ryl says the woods are clear, they are.”
Le’Dral seemed to chew on the statement for a few moments as he contemplated his response.
“As for the missing tribute, it’s one of the newcomers from this last cycle. A boy named Aelin,” Andr replied.
“The blacksmith’s apprentice?” Le’Dral questioned. A curious look crossed his face. One that spoke more to annoyance than surprise. “Why would Ryl have taken him along?”
Andr chuckled at the observation.
“Aye. That is the one,” Andr acknowledged. “Stubborn as Ryl, as I hear. Though he left of his own accord, Ryl was alone when he departed.”
Anger seeped into the captain’s eyes at the unintended admission of guilt. Andr carried on before the captain could open his mouth.
“According to Jeffers, Aelin and the youngest amongst the tributes were well on their way to recovery,” Andr added. “Some have been on their feet for hours. They’ve only been forced to endure moons of the treatment. The remedy has cleared the blight with ease. As for his whereabouts, I know now. I searched the woods for his signs. I’m confident that he’s no longer under her limbs.”
“Then where?” Le’Dral inquired.
“He’s gone after Ryl, I assume,” the mercenary replied. “They were close from the start. I know not how or why, but my guess is he followed him.”
Le’Dral shook his head, clenching his fists in aggravation.
“Then what is it you would have us do?” Le’Dral quizzed.
Andr shrugged at the weight that was placed on his shoulders. Ryl had commanded the authority, and rightly so deserved it, though neither coveted nor was obsessed about it. He knew it was a weight, a responsibility, a burden that came with his station though he would never openly complain about the duty. With Ryl absent, the unfortunate recipient of the deference was Andr. The mercenary preferred anonymity to the gravity of culpability.
“Trust,” Andr replied. “Trust in Ryl. Trust in the Erlyn. They’ve guided us to safety so far. The tributes need time to recover. We are safe here in her midst.”
A thought flashed into Andr’s head.
“Come with me, Captain,” Andr ordered. “While we wait, let us go see about a way out of here.”
Chapter 27
Ryl whipped his head around at the shuffling noise of footsteps from behind. His chest heaved with the rapid yet deep breaths. His body trembled with pent-up aggression. He resisted the urge to propel himself down the hall. To strike down the next who stood to oppose him.
The foreign whisper that called for blood earlier now screamed in his ear. It demanded carnage. The wreckage of life in the hall before him had not satiated its appetite for carnage.
It demanded more.
Aelin stood silhouetted in the doorway leading to the interior of the gate. The glowing green light of the Leaves danced across his face, illuminating his unmistakable emotion.
There was horror. There was revulsion.
Ryl watched as the latter bubbled up from within the young man’s core. His body doubled over as the meager contents of his stomach splattered across the floor.
The Leaves’ translucent blades faded into dormancy.
The hallway plunged into darkness. Streaks of glowing green slashes along the wall narrated the errand strokes of the burning blades in close quarters. The scars flickered like sparks before extinguishing. Some naturally, others due to the torrent of blood that dripped from the stone walls.
Ryl stowed the Leaves in the holsters. What had he done? He had lost himself in the overwhelming desire to destroy those who had assailed them. He shook as he realized how terrifying he must have appeared. Though they had nearly ended Aelin’s life, this was no battle. This was a massacre.
He had slaughtered these men.
His morose thoughts took a moment of effort to clear. He hastened toward the retching tribute at the hallway’s end. In the dim light it was difficult to navigate over the carnage that he’d wrought. His heel came down on something soft. The crunching of bones echoed through the confined chamber like thunder. Aelin hastened from the doorway. Ryl vaulted the remaining bodies in pursuit of his friend.
As he exited the chamber, the freshness of the air was the first to assault his senses. He’d grown startlingly accustomed to the stench of death and the thick iron tang of blood in the hallway, though it had been only a matter of moments. Flavored by only the acrid smell of smoke, the air in the gatehouse was cleansing.
At first glance, Aelin was nowhere to be seen. Ryl’s heart raced as he lost sight of the boy. His mindsight kicked in without warning as he broke from the tunnel.
In the far corner of the chamber, hidden in the shadows in the corner of the walls, was a familiar glowing signature.
Ryl slowed as he walked calmly toward the boy. There was no emotion he could project that Aelin wouldn’t reject as an attempt to sway his attitude. He knelt a step before his friend.
“Aelin, were you hurt by the arrow?” Ryl asked delicately.
The young tribute was scrunched in the corner. His knees were pulled in close, crushed against his chest by his arms. His face was buried in the crook of an elbow. His body quaked with sobs though he struggled to keep them at bay.
He shook his head though he refused to raise his face.
“That is good,” Ryl responded. A momentary flash of anger rose, though he subdued it before he continued. This was the reason he had wanted to pursue Elias and Kaep alone.
“I’m neither proud nor happy about what I’ve done,” he began. “Whether it’s a beast or man, killing is never easy. It’s messy. It leaves stains that will never fade. I still feel them all. You know this as well as any.”
Ryl spun, resting his back against the wall. He slid down into a seated position next to the boy.
“Understand that they would have killed you,” Ryl continued. “That arrow was meant for your heart. They would have given no quarter, and we have no time to waste.”
Aelin’s sobbing ceased. He raised his head from his arms though his gaze was still distant, focused on nothing in particular on the opposite wall.
“I should have stayed behind. I should have helped the others.” His voice was weak. It wavered as he struggled to hold the tears in check. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know why I thought I could help.”
Ryl smiled at the youngster. He couldn’t chide him now, though he refused to argue that his presence wasn’t an added burden. The unexpected added company was a pleasant change from the solitude. In a way, it saved him.
Saved him from getting lost in his thoughts.
It had just saved him from losing himself in the vicious darkness that had propelled him to cause such wanton destruction.
“I’m glad to have your company, Aelin,” Ryl admitted. “We need to keep moving. Elias is close. I can feel him. It’s as if he’s been toying with us all along, staying a few steps ahead. We need to catch them. We need to find Kaep.”
Aelin sniffled as he whimpered. The sound was as close to words as his shattered spirit could muster. He nodded his head in agreement. Ryl reached out, jostling his hair with his hand as he stood.
“I need to have a look inside the barracks.” Ryl spoke quietly. “The disguises we need should be readily available. If any remained to pursue their companions, they’d likely have done so by now.”
Ryl peered into the open doorway. The interior was now pitch black. He was thankful for that. No light from a torch emanated from its midst. No sounds issued from the graveyard inside.
“I will not ask you to follow me,” he said. “I need you to stay safe. Stick close to the door. Scream if any other than I approaches. I’ll hear you. I can’t risk having to rescue you as well.”
“How will I know it’s you returning and not the guard?” Aelin’s question was an important one.
Ryl smiled as he forced out a wave of emotion over the child. Ho
pe lit in Aelin’s eyes as he glanced at him in wonder.
“None will recreate that feeling. You’ll know it’s me,” he said as he focused a wave of that same emotion over the trembling boy. “Stay in the shadows close to the door. I’ll return shortly.”
Ryl helped Aelin to his feet before leading him across the dirt expanse of the interior. With a smile and a nod of his head, he deposited the boy to the side of the door, deep in the shadows that remained along the wall.
He steeled himself as he stepped into the open doorway. The glowing slashes on the walls had cooled or had been extinguished, leaving the narrow tunnel in complete darkness. The stench was revolting, threatening to turn his stomach as it overwhelmed the smoky, yet fresher air.
With a wave of his right hand, Ryl unleashed a small gust of wind down the tormented hallway. He ignited the Leaves in his left hand, providing the illumination to progress carefully into the pathway. He hurried forward, following closely in the wake of the wind. He enjoyed the remnants of the fresh air, eagerly striding down the hall. His vision was focused ahead, cautious to avoid viewing the dismembered and disemboweled bodies strewn across its interior.
Ryl paused as he reached the corner. With his shoulder against the edge of the wall, he paused for a moment, listening for noises from the tunnel beyond. From experience, he knew that the pathway led into the barracks beyond. There was a small shower room stationed off to the right, but the rest was a mystery.
The pathway ahead was silent. He let the glowing blade falter, casting the pathway in darkness as it extinguished.
For a few moments he stood still. Listening.
Waiting.
Convinced that none waited in hiding for his approach, Ryl eased out from around the corner. As he recalled, there was a solitary door between his position and the next junction of the path. The heavy metal panel stood ajar, as it had in his memory. A torch burned somewhere at the end, spilling its wavering light into the hallway beyond. He could see darkened rectangular shadows along each side of the wall, signifying doorways leading into the barracks or other rooms beyond.
