The Weight of Darkness (Catalyst Book 5)

by C. J. Aaron

  “We’ll be safe here,” Cavlin announced as he topped the narrow stairs. “Rest. We’ll likely have hours until we need to move again. Ryl, come with me. I need to show you something.”

  Cavlin never stopped moving as he spoke. He turned as he rounded the head of the stairs toward the adjacent wall. A narrow ladder was built into the wood, leading to a door in the ceiling overhead. Ryl followed the guard up; this time the trapdoor at the top opened without complaint. A gust of wind, laden with the remaining moisture of the storm, rushed past. He felt the cooling mist on his face as he climbed steadily upward.

  The top of the ladder opened to a relatively flat roof. The sides were pitched slightly out from the center; the sensation of unevenness was disconcerting though the slope was mild. Cavlin crouched as he moved forward toward the edge of the wall. The surface of the roof was slick from the moisture. They stepped around the small pools that had formed in the uneven surface, careful not to lose their footing.

  Cavlin led him to the eastern edge of the wall where a small stone border formed a thin, knee-high barrier. The guard kneeled on the slick roof, leaning against the stone. His head made a quick circuit of the surrounding city before motioning to the east.

  “The facility is there.” Cavlin pointed in the direction, though there was little speculation as Ryl viewed the city. From their position on the roof, a good portion of the capital city was in view. To the east, the buildings were large and industrious; many showed signs of workers moving about in their prescribed tasks.

  The makeup of the buildings remained primarily industrial as Ryl’s view swept to the south. The sea dominated the southern horizon, stretching far beyond the boundaries of the walls that strove to separate the city’s classes. Tall vessels bobbed on the rolling, rough water. No sign of Lord Eligar’s fleet could be seen.

  Ryl returned his vision quickly to the east. Somewhere among the buildings was the object of their attention. Looming over the outer circles of the city stood the capital complex. Seated atop the sheer walls of the ridge, the palatial complex stabbed into the sky above; its towers and turrets would likely have formed a striking profile against the firmament if not for the mist that shrouded a large portion of its design.

  He scanned again with his mindsight. Nothing unexpected moved within the field of his vision. Ryl doubted that they were oblivious to his presence, yet why then did they not move on his location? What was it that they waited for?

  At the moment, though perplexed, he struggled to force the thought from his mind. There was another goal, far closer to reach, that stood before the morning’s Deliverance.

  Not all the industrial buildings that dominated the makeup of the city before them showed signs of activity. The steady thrum of construction floated on the air as workers went about their day with little regard for the changes that were to come. Among the mass of structures, a few were dilapidated, seemingly abandoned by time and laborers.

  After a quick scan, Ryl’s eyes focused on a large structure slightly to the southeast of their position. The complex was wide and long, stretching across several blocks. A stone wall, taller than a man, encircled the facility. A heavy, reinforced wooden gate was set into the barrier along the road that ran along its western side.

  By all appearances, the complex looked abandoned. It blended in among the others of its kind, merely a relic of production, long overlooked. The low, yet imposing crenulated towers that sprouted from the corners of its frame hinted at its martial application.

  “There,” Ryl announced. His eyes squinted as he inspected the facility. Though he noted no movement, he could feel the foreboding sensation bubbling up from his core. There was a darkness that lingered. “‘I see no movement inside.”

  “Neither did we,” Cavlin responded. “The wall is not difficult to climb. We watched the interior for some time. None entered or exited the facility. Darkness still lingered, and we viewed the facility until well beyond sunrise. No lanterns burning in the dark. The guard towers are there for show at the moment.”

  Ryl squinted his eyes, peering through the mist as he investigated the towers. The crenulated turrets hid most of the interior from view from without, yet there were no hints of motion from any. He was satisfied that the Lei Guard would be unable to prepare an ambush in the facility. He could see the stain of their blackened signatures scarring his mindsight to the east. Lord Kagran likely planned to make his stand inside the Hall of the King. Like with the fall of the phrenics of old, he desired to lure them into their submission inside the confines of the great chamber.

  King Lunek the Third had succeeded, with the assistance of Leiroth, in hiding the presence of Kaep from his vision. They had tainted her body, disrupting the signature that he’d come to understand. From what little he knew, Kagran had not the cycles nor the wisdom to duplicate the feat. In all truth, Leiroth had likely been the protagonist, the mind behind the mayhem that had nearly wiped the phrenics from existence.

  Lord Kagran was ruthless, greedy and ambitious. A deadly combination, yet his knowledge of the true power of the phrenics was sorely lacking. Ryl aimed to make him, make the kingdom see the error in their ways.

  Once and for all.

  The eponymous lord would no longer be allowed to control the true history of the kingdom. Let people decide the path they walk for themselves. Assuredly, many would never be sympathetic to their cause, the taint of greed, the allure of the endless, eternal power far too potent to resist. Yet it was a decision to be made of their own volition. The facts, the truth would be laid bare. The choice would be theirs.

  Ryl and Cavlin remained on the roof, watching the facility as the sun began creeping toward the western horizon. Aside from the wind jostling the scrawny trees and wild grasses that grew among the courtyard within, the compound was still. The sound of hushed footsteps on the roof alerted them to the presence of others joining their silent vigil. Andr and Paelec stalked across the roof, their eyes carefully cataloguing the city that spread out around them. The phrenic had changed back into his dark grey cloak, his hood pulled up over his head; the wind ruffled the tail as it swirled from the sea.

  “Millis prepared food.” Andr smiled as he greeted the pair. “Enjoy it while it’s still hot. Who knows when we’ll have another warm meal.”

  Ryl’s stomach gurgled with even the mention of food. His appetite had been sluggish to return; the vile experience of the tunnel left a lasting impact on his will to eat. The idea of a warm meal, no matter how inexperienced the chef was, was an enticing proposition.

  “We’ll let you know if anything changes,” Paelec added as they assumed a discreet position against the low, decorative wall.

  Ryl found that his steps were far more hasty, far less discreet as he moved down the ladder into the concealment of their shelter. The mouthwatering, yet undescribed aromas of food greeted him immediately as they entered the chamber. The mix of spices was foreign, yet the aromatic concoction was irresistible. His mouth watered.

  Millis stood beside a small kettle, slowly stirring as the pair approached. The others, having eaten, were in various stages of rest. Ramm and Paasek remained on guard. The elder phrenic watched the exterior from the curtained window; the fabric of his cloak, though several shades off, blended in with the thick drab cloth that hid the interior from view. Ramm sat on the top step of the stairs; his massive war hammer lay across his lap as he blocked the entrance to their safehouse. Ryl grinned as he viewed the mountain of a man, cloaked once again in the telltale garb of their station, positioned atop the steps. It would take an army to disrupt the immovable mountain of a phrenic.

  The fare Millis had prepared was simple, the portions meager, yet it filled his belly with a warmth and a weight that would linger. The stewed mix of meats, vegetables and rice, in his fiendishly hungry state, would have been fit for a king. Ryl surveyed the room, content that his companions likely shared the same sentiment. Aside from those remaining on watch, they rested or relaxed in whatever position they cou
ld find comfortable. There was no conversation to be had.

  Ryl finished the meal quickly, thanking their impromptu chef before securing a position against the stone wall, a few paces from the hearth. It was with pleasure that he removed the drab-colored garments they’d collected from Lord Eligar’s men. His skin tingled with anticipation as he slipped the cloak over his shoulders. With the cloak secured, he flipped the hood up over his head, covering the upper half of his face in shadow. Though the cloak was now sleeveless on both arms, merely the touch of the fabric against his skin sent a ripple of electricity through his body. Across the room, Palon, ever silent, ever mindful, watched the seemingly trivial task with a sense of unguarded longing. He nodded to his friend as he rested his head back against the inner stone wall.

  The latent warmth of the small blaze had warmed the rocks at his back. The heat seeped through his clothes, spreading through his weary body. If the present circumstances at the facility remained, they would wait until the cover of darkness to make their next move. Judging by what he saw with both his eyes and his mindsight, he expected to find the facility abandoned. He could sense no trace of either alexen or nexela from within the building, yet internally, his emotions were troubled.

  The alexen coursed through his veins, spreading a fire of anxiousness across every measure of his frame. From deep within, whispers of darkness probed his defenses, prodding their vile machinations into his mind.

  His thoughts turned to the events that would follow closely beyond the facility. The culmination of endless cycles of torment remained only a sunrise away. He inhaled a deep, steady breath, holding the air and the tension a moment before exhaling it out. The air whistled between his lips as he forced the calm over his body. The alexen relaxed with the effort, though the guarded heat remained over his left arm.

  Ryl’s eyes travelled to the markings surrounding his left elbow. The once pristine orb of the sun was scarred with countless blemishes. The smudges of black seemed to shift perpetually as the roiling blaze of the sun beneath burned steadily, holding the darkness at bay. As was typically the case, his visions tracked eagerly toward his right arm, his eyes resting on the demure hand interwoven between the vines and leaves.

  It was a loss that he feared he’d never accept. A pain that would linger, torturing him for the balance of his long extended life.

  With a sigh he averted his eyes from the marking. She had given herself for the sake of hope. Kaep had understood her true purpose in the end.

  He understood; he was grateful for the chance to carry on. She had been one of the few fabled phrenics surviving in isolation. She had come willingly, eager to be a part of the change that the kingdom so desperately needed. In her absence, without her steady glow, the light of the world seemed a few shades darker. Ryl closed his eyes, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He leaned his head back against the stone, ridding his mind of the thoughts for the sake of a few moments of rest.

  His succor was regrettably short-lived.

  Chapter 36

  Ryl’s eyes had closed for a matter of moments before his relative peace was abruptly interrupted. The feelings that jarred him to his feet were foreign, yet he understood their message.

  Concern and alert blanketed his body.

  He scanned the area with his mindsight, his heart racing as the image painted a picture. The results were bland, though he was not displeased with the vision. There were no signs that the Lei Guard approached. He’d have known Paelec and Andr approached without the aid of his mindsight, as their hasty footsteps echoed from the roof above.

  Paelec was the first to slide down the ladder; the mercenary followed a step behind. The phrenic archer’s face was unreadable, yet the wicked grin that split Andr’s face spoke of the task ahead.

  “A small group of soldiers just entered the facility,” Paelec announced to the group. “There are only three. Two entered; the other stands guard at the northern door. No Lei Guard that I could tell were among their group.”

  All eyes in the room were focused on the phrenic. The floorboards creaked in protest as Ramm rose to his feet.

  “I see no trace that the tainted guard has moved from the capital complex,” Ryl added. “Is there any sign of others moving to join the group?”

  “None that I’m aware of,” Andr interjected. “The buildings block much of the views of the avenues. I’ve spent time among the soldiers of Damaris. I doubt a large force could move with much discretion.”

  Both Cavlin and Millis seconded the sentiment. Though well trained to a point, in general, the guards they had worked with lacked the discipline. Moving a force of any great size, especially among the cramped confines of the city, would undoubtedly cause undue commotion.

  Ryl scanned the faces of his companions spread throughout the room. The answer to his unvoiced question was written clearly across each of their faces. He bent down, removing the holster with the Leaves from his pack, securing them quickly to his back. The excited energy rushed through his veins at the brush of the smoothed wood against his skin.

  “I grow tired of waiting,” he announced. His voice dripped with determination. “It’s time we pay the facility a visit.”

  With little supplies save the packs on their backs, the preparations to depart were accomplished in a matter of moments. Cavlin sealed the exit to the roof, and they filed down the stairs. Aside from the warmed coals of the doused fire, the lingering scents of food and smoke, they left little evidence of their temporary occupancy.

  The afternoon sun had fallen as they exited the safety of the shelter, melting into the shadows of the back alley. The sunlight had burned off most of the mist that had plagued the earlier hours of the day. Large puddles still remained, especially in the less traveled pathways of the capital. Their path routinely led over or around the stagnant pools, slick with a coating of grime deposited as it washed the streets clean of debris. At every intersection they paused, listening for the sounds of approaching patrols. Scanning for signs that the Lei Guard moved to counter their progress.

  There was only a matter of a few blocks separating the safehouse from the nondescript, sprawling facility that was their destination. Aside from one larger avenue, they would maintain the secrecy of the clogged alleys. Ryl felt a lingering sense of concern as they approached the crossing of the more substantial thoroughfare. Though the sun had yet to set, it hung low over the western horizon. The golden orb was hidden from their view behind the wall of buildings; the shadows stretched out, covering the entirety of the avenue. Various shops and cafes were scattered across the roadway. Those that were still open to the public had already begun lighting torches or lanterns as the darkness came early to this portion of the city.

  He couldn’t help but note the similarities to the doomed East Ward of Cadsae Proper. While the remainder of the now decimated city enjoyed the last rays of light, the inhabitants of the run-down ward endured an early night living beneath the shadow of the eastern palisade. There were thankfully few on the street as they reached the border of the narrow alley. To their left, the avenue curved slightly as the concentric path rounded the city’s second, more affluent circle. It wasn’t long before their sight lines were lost as the pathway closed off between the buildings. To the right, to the south, the view of the sea was clear, though confined to the gap between the structures.

  After a few moments of observation, Cavlin motioned the party into the opening. Like the busy street they had crossed earlier, they moved to the right as they entered the thoroughfare, though their path angled across the street toward the nearest alley. The size of their group earned a few cautious glances from the citizens they encountered, yet none made any attempt to greet or slow their party. Those who did note their presence moved quickly to the opposite side of the street or disappeared into the closest unlocked building.

  Ryl frowned at the unwanted attention, though in reality, it likely mattered not. Even so, he focused on the illusion that he cast cautiously over the party. He covered
the tattooed arms of the phrenics and brands of the tributes with cloth. Regardless of whom they encountered on the sparsely crowded street this evening, word would never reach the facility prior to their arrival. As for the lord, Ryl was certain that word of the phrenics’ arrival in the capital was sure to have reached his ear. That he was in the process of setting a trap, he was certain.

  By all accounts they had received, the Lei Guard followed his command without question. They had accepted the order of the one who had been nothing more than a noble in the court, spurning the word of all others. It was a curious relationship, yet not entirely unsurprising. The shells of the tributes who remained were nothing more than vessels molded to be controlled by the hand who held the greatest power over the kingdom. They had implicitly followed the rule of Leiroth, and by his leave King Lunek the Third. With the void left in the wake of their deaths, they had likely latched onto the closest shred of lingering power that remained in the king’s absence. If Lord Kagran was foolish enough to send his fabled black-cloaked warriors in small groups, they would be easy pickings for the phrenics, who were prepared to meet their charge.

  Ryl doubted he would spare any. Kagran’s position was tenuous. He held onto his shred of rule by the sheer threat of those very same guards. With every one lost, the security of his influence would wane. He doubted it would take many losses to entice open revolt.

  Cavlin led them forward at a brisk pace, ducking as discreetly as possible into the first alley on the opposite side of the street. Between the buildings, the walls that defended the facility climbed clearly into view. A solitary tower peered ominously down at them, though no movement graced its thin defensive windows.