The Weight of Darkness (Catalyst Book 5)

by C. J. Aaron

  They reached the gap leading to the defensive wall in no time. The path between the buildings and the wall was narrow, yet wide enough to fit a wagon with ease. A few dozen meters to their left, the pathway split, one track leading northward, the other wrapping around the rectangular complex, dividing it from the city that spread around it. Heavy wear on the cobblestone spoke of the regular use that had eaten at the roadway over cycles of use. In either direction, the alley was eerily devoid of any motion. The ambient sounds of the city seemed like a distant afterthought as they stared at the wall separating them from the facility beyond.

  Ryl scanned ahead with his mindsight, cautious for any hint of motion or life ahead. Though there were no signatures denoting the presence of either phrenic or Lei Guard, he felt a distinct whisper of darkness emanating from the building beyond. The aura was dark, foreboding, yet it called to him, drawing him onward.

  “When we last saw him, there was but a single guard manning the entrance on the northern side of the facility; the others disappeared inside,” Andr whispered. “They entered through the gate just to the south of here.”

  “Aye, there are but two entrances to the facility, one along this western wall and one on the opposite side,” Cavlin intoned. “Judging from the wear on the road, this one saw far greater use. It’s hard to tell from this angle, yet it looks like it’s been left open. Ryl, walk with me. We’ll be back in a moment.”

  Without waiting for confirmation, Cavlin strode out from the shadows of the alley. Ryl shook his head as he matched the confident steps of the guard. They walked shoulder to shoulder down the western edge of the road. Though cloaked in shadow, their presence would have been noted had any paid careful watch over the area. No calls of alarm were issued from the surrounding buildings as they continued onward.

  The quiet padding of the footsteps was barely audible over the steady rush of the wind that blew from the sea to the south. Flickers of light emanated from a few of the buildings that bordered the western edge of the cobblestone track, yet they noted no motion from within. Though the city was thriving, its population swelling, many habitations here looked abandoned.

  Even without the noticeable presence of the Lei Guard, Ryl could still feel a hint of the dread that Mender Brahn had claimed perpetually surrounded the complex. The sensation gnawed at him; the alexen in his veins began to heat with the fires of rage as the expectations of what they would find within began to ferment.

  Close to twenty meters from where they’d left their companions, they reached the heavy gate in the wall. The well-worn tracks of a wagon turned to the left here, entering through the expansive opening. The road beyond, though likely as old as the rest, remained far less scarred, as the path the carriage followed routinely entered at this point.

  The gate consisted of two panels, both constructed of wood, set into a metal-reinforced frame. On each door, there was a single small slit at eye level for those within to keep tabs on the action without. Curiously, the panel on the left was cracked open. Cavlin stopped, stepping back into the shadows as he whispered to Ryl.

  “They were either careless, or they’re inviting us in,” Cavlin said. His eyes darted from side to side as he catalogued the area surrounding them with renewed vigilance. “Though I’ve never had cause or desire to enter or inspect this operation prior to this journey, I’ve frequented these alleys. The gates have never been left ajar. With the exception of the group that entered not long ago, I’ve seen no sign of anyone. It’s hard not to believe the facility is truly abandoned.”

  Though Ryl agreed with the sentiment, their timing and ease was too convenient for his mind to accept without caution.

  “I still have contacts in the area. They’ve noted no troop movement of late,” he continued. “As the mender noted, the daily patrols have ceased.”

  Ryl peered into the cleared opening of the complex through the gap between the panels of the gate. The cobblestone road curved out of view behind the gate as it moved to the north. A thin strip of poorly maintained grass stretched along the edge of the facility that was visible.

  “One day, I’d be interested to hear about your life outside the guard,” Ryl commented. It was likely a tale that would never be revealed, yet his curiosity had been more than piqued. From the start, the guard had been an enigma. He commanded the complete trust of Captain Le’Dral, yet his actions seemed completely unbound by the regimented structure that the captain demanded from his troops.

  “Perhaps.” Cavlin grinned.

  He moved nonchalantly across the alley, slowing as he approached the gate. He looked through the slit in the closest panel before poking his head into the opening beyond. Cavlin’s observation of the interior was brief; with a subtle motion of his hand, he beckoned Ryl closer.

  “The guard is either on patrol or still watches the northern door where Andr and Paelec noticed him,” Cavlin relayed. “There are none in sight.”

  Ryl took his turn observing the interior as Cavlin shifted from the opening. As the guard had noted, the interior was devoid of movement. The grassy area to the south of the entrance was overgrown, wrapping around the building. Small shrubs and trees grew along the stone barrier, though they were noticeably untended. To the north, the area was largely paved by cobblestone; only a thin strip of green ran along the edge of the wall.

  The building itself occupied the majority of the interior of the complex. It was less than ten meters high, yet stretched over one hundred meters long. The outline of the structure and the towers were constructed of stone, yet the remainder was made of wood. The natural planks were faded to an ashy color from the constant abuse of the salty sea air. Aside from the thin, defensive windows in the turrets that rose from each of its four corners, there were no signs of any other windows along its surface.

  Ryl motioned to Cavlin as the pair stepped back into the shadows of the buildings bordering the alley. He turned to the north, focusing on the signatures of the phrenics before sending a wave of emotion. A signal that their presence was needed. Their response was immediate. The shadowed forms of his companions stalked from the concealment of the alley. Their pace was determined, yet they still moved with caution, for which Ryl was thankful. The area held a disturbing level of placid calm. The lack of sound, the absence of people, along with the lingering feeling of dread that seemed to emanate from the very building itself caused the hairs to stand tall on the back of his neck.

  His whispered commands were short; none argued their assignments. All were versed in the language of battle and had been hardened to an extent by the awful realities that resulted from blade meeting flesh. Only the faces of the three unawakened, the least experienced of the group, showed any sign of nervousness.

  “Once we enter, Paelec, Paasek, Dav, Nielix and Lenu, circle around the back. We’ve seen but three. I want none to escape should they have time to run,” Ryl growled as he issued the commands. “Ramm, Vox and Millis, watch the gate. Everyone else, with me. Be ever mindful of your surroundings. This facility looks all but abandoned, yet something doesn’t feel right.”

  Ryl met the eyes of all in the group as he scanned their faces. The determination was chilling. He feared for any who dared mount an opposition to their meager, yet disastrous force. One final glance, he confirmed that the interior of the chamber remained empty. No guards patrolled the grounds. No watchful eyes scanned the complex from the towers high above.

  “Let’s go,” he whispered. “We’ll meet you around the other side.”

  Paelec and Paasek were the first to enter the grounds; the Vigil followed close at their heels. Ryl waited until the last of their group disappeared around the edge of the massive building before entering the territory.

  “Tash, Palon, Cray, I want you in the middle,” Ryl ordered. “Andr, watch our backs.”

  Without a sound, they squeezed through the opening in the gate, stalking across the grounds toward the windowless edge of the facility. Their feet made few sounds as they ran along the edge of the g
rass that bordered the cobblestone drive. Ryl slowed their pace to a steady walk as he prowled along the side of the building. His senses were on high alert, listening for any sounds of alarm. His mindsight flashed frequent images of their surroundings. The signatures of the phrenics arching around the rear of the building were the only motion of note.

  Ryl paused as they reached the northwestern corner of the building. They had entered the facility from the east, traveling up the longer edge to the corner. From their view atop the safehouse, the building appeared to be nearly half as wide as it was long. Still, the shorter side easily measured a distance of thirty meters. The solitary door they had spied was waiting in the middle of the building’s northern edge. If the guard still manned his post near the center, it was still a decent distance to cover without raising an alarm. He readied the speed that flowed in his veins as he risked a glance around the corner. The alexen begged for release.

  The sight that met his eyes eased the tension that had mounted as they reached the blind corner. Left on watch, the sole guard lounged against the wall, squatting in a seated position, resting his weight on his heels. He had a small blade in his hand, yet he picked idly at an object in the stone, focused on the ground, oblivious to the happenings that surrounded him.

  The careless nature of the guard, the desolate building that could likely house hundreds spoke now more to its desertion than a carefully laid trap.

  Ryl focused his attention on the grasses near the outer wall, concentrating on the illusion. A soundless rabbit hopped from the edge of the trees that bordered the northern barrier. It hopped across the cobblestone at an angle leading toward the western corner. Alerted by the motion, the guard froze in place, raising his eyes to view the curious creature. The momentary distraction was all Ryl needed as he dipped into the speed that awaited his command.

  The guard slowly rose to his feet, his attention focused on the hare. As he reached standing, Ryl released hold of the illusion. The creature vanished; the fragile outline of its frame seemed to swirl away like dust blown by the gusting winds. The guard rocked back on his feet at the mysterious creature’s disappearance; his eyes were wide as he searched for the hare.

  His vision had only long enough to catch a fleeting glimpse of Ryl’s approach. His body lacked the time to command the muscles of his arms to react, yet ample time for his eyes to realize his peril. The man’s face blanched in shock as he opened his mouth to scream.

  The sound choked in his throat as Ryl’s hand closed around his neck. He tightened the woodskin on his arm, locking his elbow as he pinned the man to the wall. The guard’s feet kicked as he was suspended a hand’s width off the ground to the side of the door. Time snapped back to normal as he let his grasp of the speed fade. The muffled footsteps on the ground at his rear signaled the arrival of his companions.

  “What shall we do with this one?” Cavlin hissed. The eyes of the guard went wide as he catalogued the motley crew who had silently stormed his position without warning.

  Before Ryl could respond, the door to the facility burst open. His left hand fell behind his back, his fingers squeezing their grip on the Leaves secured in their holster. The outswing of the door came toward them, for an instant blocking their view of the exit. A solitary guard stumbled out from the facility, oblivious to their presence, a rag held over his mouth and nose. He staggered for a few steps before falling to a knee, retching on the stone of the courtyard.

  Ryl wrinkled his nose as the waft of air from the interior carried a hint of the scents from within. The odor churned his stomach; he struggled against the momentary urge to gag. It was a smell he was unfortunately all too familiar with.

  It was the foul stench of death.

  A mild chuckle arose from just inside the door as a second man strode out from within. He wiped his hands on his uniform trousers, though he seemed disturbingly unfazed by the odor. With his view still partially concealed by the door, his attention was focused on his companion, who splashed a constant stream of bile and vomit across the stone.

  “Their wretched lot always stinks. Never this bad though. You need to toughen up if you ever aim to earn the Blessing. Lord Kagran suffers no weakness,” he chaffed at his companion.

  Ryl felt his blood run cold at the revelation. The burned heat of pure rage quickly swelled in its wake.

  “We’ve yet to find what we were sent to collect.” The guard kicked at the stones, sending a small spatter of dirt against his companion’s back. “His threats were less than veiled. Returning without his prize would be a death sentence. Looks like it’s your turn now.”

  The soldier’s voice trailed off abruptly as he turned to his other companion.

  In slow motion, Ryl watched the shock of the scene before him play out across his features. One companion spilled the contents of his stomach on the stones behind him. The other was suspended off the ground by his neck by a solitary figure cloaked in deep, charcoal grey. The malice exuding from the party behind was terrifying. The guard’s eyes went wide, overflowing with fear as his mouth fell open. His hands squeezed into involuntary fists as his body struggled between the urges to fight or flee.

  Without a word of warning or alarm, he turned and sprinted toward the northern wall of the facility. His frantic path toward escape intersected with his ill companion, sending the hobbled man sprawling to the stone. The runner’s flight was determined; though he staggered for a few paces, his pace increased. He cast a panicked glance over his shoulder as Cavlin and Andr shifted, striding forward to give chase.

  His mouth opened to scream, yet the sound that broke the silence came from outside. The high-pitched whistle was brief. His next step had nearly reached the ground when his body jerked awkwardly to the side. As his body spun, a second arrow punched through his torso. With a spray of blood, his body twisted before crashing to the stone. His lifeless body slid before crumpling to a heap on the stone.

  Paelec, bow in hand, rounded the corner of the building. Paasek and the Vigil appeared a few steps behind him.

  Ryl wrenched one of the Leaves free with his left hand. The blade sparked to life; the heat of the green fire rippled the air around its serrated edges. A few paces away, the guard on the ground had rolled to his back. His feet squealed as they slipped on the stones, slickened from his own vomit. The lethal intent of the burning blade pointed squarely at his chest stalled his attempts at flight.

  “Now tell me what it is that you came here to find,” Ryl growled.

  Chapter 37

  The guard froze in place. His slipping feet planted to the ground as the full force of the attention centered on him. Cavlin and Andr redirected their course, dragging the man, paralyzed by fear, from the growing pile of his own bodily fluids. His body was unceremoniously deposited against the wall to the opposite side of the doorway. To his right, the choking sounds from the soldier suspended from the wall weakened to a few staggered rasping gaps. Ryl released the woodskin that had solidified over his arm, removing his hand from the helpless guard’s throat. His body crumpled to the ground as he gasped for air.

  Andr wasted no time securing the guard with a length of rope from his pack. The man’s wide eyes had yet to shrink as he viewed the proceedings with a look of mesmerized horror. Ryl crossed to their side, casting a quick glance into the open door of the facility as he passed. There was little to see in the initial view. A pair of lanterns burned atop a wooden table just inside the door, illuminating a scene that was eerily familiar. The makeup of the entryway, while substantially larger, was reminiscent of the facility in the shadow of the Martrion ruins.

  The odor of death that escaped the door was potent. Ryl’s anger swelled into a white-hot rage.

  “It’s you,” he gasped as Ryl kneeled down, bringing him eye level with their captive. “The stories were true. The swords.”

  Ryl’s eyes burned with emotions, swirling with the blaze of an inferno. His patience had run thin. His mercy had all but expired. The woodskin formed a thick bark over his right
hand as he squeezed it into a fist. His fingers felt as if they melded together as he lashed out at the guard. The reverberations rippled up his arm with a lance of pain as he connected with the wall a finger’s width to the side of the guard’s head. The thick wooden panel split, raining splinters, as the force of his strike was too great for the timber to withstand.

  “What is it you were to find?” Ryl hissed. He could feel he alexen within his veins struggling to keep the blackened whispers at bay. The animosity, the murderous intent that currently surged through his body was counterproductive.

  It was his doing.

  “A vial. The Blessing of the King. One dose went missing when the supply was moved.” He stumbled through the words. His eyes were squinted, his head still turned to the side, angled away from the fist that could have easily crushed his skull.

  “And where did they move the tributes?” The final word tasted vile as it escaped his lips.

  With difficulty, the guard’s eyes sought to meet his withering glare. He opened and closed his mouth several times, choosing his words wisely.

  “None were moved.” The guard struggled through the words as the devastating importance of his statement dawned on him. “All are inside.”

  For an instant, Ryl felt the surge of hope course through his body. He scanned the area with his mindsight, scouring the vision for details.

  His hopes were dashed as the mounting fear again took hold.

  “Are there more guards inside?” Ryl’s icy voice was hollow.

  The guard shuddered as the chill ran through his body. The gooseflesh rose, spreading up his arms. He couldn’t find the words; he merely shook his head in response.

  “Watch them,” Ryl growled to his companions. “If they move, kill them.”

  The guard cringed as Ryl rose to his feet, stalking through the open door to the facility. The quality of the air in the entryway was poor. It was thick with the potent, horrid scents of death mixed with refuse and bodily fluids. Under it all, the unmistakable odor of the nexela was undeniable. His nose wrinkled at the overpowering rancid complement of noxious odors. The churning of his stomach was barely noted as the unfiltered, raw anger overpowered his senses.