Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2)

by C. J. Aaron

  Disorganized.

  Panicked.

  Was he supposed to call for help? Who was he to call? He couldn’t remember.

  “Sarial. Mother, help,” Ryl whispered as the tears flowed from his eyes.

  His body convulsed with chills. Through the tears he could see nothing but the featureless black shadow that quickly blocked out the light of the entrance. There was intense fear, yet he couldn’t comprehend the reason. He closed his eyes as the sobbing became uncontrollable. He wretched, a contraction he felt tear through the entirety of his body. The acidic bile poured from his mouth, burning his throat as it spilled onto the ground.

  Ryl felt the tug on his shoulder, felt his body being lifted from the ground, cradled like a child.

  He smiled as he slipped into the oblivion inside his mind.

  Chapter 11

  Ryl’s condition remained in a state of flux throughout the night. Andr had him sprawled out on the ground just behind him, close to the entrance. He split his attention between keeping an eye on Ryl while maintaining a careful watch on the exterior.

  The Horde outside had replenished their numbers from the night before. Andr counted six shadows meandering carefree throughout the night. Though the creatures strayed closer to the entrance of their shelter, no attacks came. Instead, the creatures issued forth a random series of blood curdling shrieks and wails into the quiet of the night. Just when Andr thought there would be no more, a call from a different creature split the silence. The screams and cries grated on his nerves, sending chills racing throughout his body.

  Through it all Ryl remained fitful, locked in an agonizing, dreamless consciousness. His body moved from bouts of uncontrollable convulsions due to the chills, to burning with an intensity that Andr could feel radiating from his body nearly a meter away. His wails were agonizing in their own respect, even more terrifying to his steadfast protector than those from the Horde lurking outside.

  Ryl woke shortly after daybreak. The conversation was brief, and in a moment of lucid clarity, he understood the dire need to move. Andr wasted no time propping him up with an arm under his shoulder, practically dragging him as they hobbled toward the north. For the first time since entering the Outlands, the normally clear skies were covered with a foreboding layer of low, grey clouds.

  The small grove they had seen in the distance thankfully produced an easily accessible spring that bubbled up from earth. They replenished their dried-out water skins, drinking their fill. The carrots they survived on were sparse; Andr carefully helped Ryl choke down one before his body rejected it in a violent episode of spasms and vomiting.

  The pair limped forward throughout the day. The ridge they’d been following ended shortly after the copse of trees. Scattered rocky hills dotted the landscape in the distance and Andr steered them toward the largest, slightly northwest of their position. The distance was greater than he’d anticipated and their rate of travel more sluggish. The mercenary resorted to carrying Ryl as he slipped into unconsciousness before they reached the base of the outcropping.

  Carefully laying his charge on the rocky, reddish soil, Andr searched for a defensible location. Thankfully, he succeeded in locating one a short way up the eastern face of the hill. Here, the gentle incline of the slope met the steep face that continued to its peak. A sliver of the waning sun had fallen below the horizon as Andr pulled Ryl inside the small cave. Their shelter for the night was created by a massive slab that had sheared from the rock face above. The slab had dug itself into the ground before leaning back to rest against the ledge, walling in three sides, creating a small gap.

  The night that passed was a torturous affair.

  Ryl's condition was frantic. He convulsed, burned, vomited and wailed incoherent nonsense into the night. The Horde outside had crept closer than their position the previous night, circling the hill, bellowing all manner of bone chilling screams.

  Ryl had only a moment of clarity that night, just enough to confirm the six shadowed masses that appeared in his vision. The extra energy spent using his skills sent him spiraling back into an uncomfortable unconsciousness.

  Andr fought the exhaustion throughout the night. He'd not been able to sleep for over a day. He was starving and grudgingly acknowledged that he’d likely have to carry Ryl for the duration if their trek. How far would they make it?

  As with every night up to this point, the Horde vanished with the coming of the sun, melting back to an unknown destination somewhere in the reddish landscape. The scattered clouds provided a welcome break from the oppressive coverage of the previous day. Andr managed to get Ryl up onto his feet, setting off as fast as his semi-conscious companion would allow.

  Rounding the base of the hill they'd sheltered in, Andr stopped dead in his tracks. He'd grown accustomed to seeing only the jagged mountainous horizon breaking the skyline in the distance. The sight in front of him threatened to bring tears to the eyes of the hardened mercenary.

  Looming up from the earth, the wall of the Haven Mountains appeared far closer than ever before. The range spread east and west until it disappeared from view; jagged pinnacles capped with a white cone of snow. How far had they traveled from the shores of the Sea of Prosper?

  “Ryl, the mountains are close,” Andr whispered, not expecting a coherent response.

  Ryl groaned in reply.

  The sight of the mountains so close at hand charged him with a jolt of extra energy. They stumbled forward, watching as the wall of rock inch further into the sky with every passing step.

  The day’s progress was a measured success. Ryl walked for only a trivial portion of their total distance. Andr slung Ryl over his shoulder, muscling through each step. Ryl’s unconscious frame was already slender from the lack of resources provided to him within The Stocks. His weight had declined even further since their journey began.

  Just before midday they reached a small grove set off to the eastern side of a low rise in the terrain. The cool water from the spring was refreshing; Andr splashed it over his face and hair, wiping off the accumulated dirt and grime. He’d worked up a sweat carrying Ryl throughout the morning.

  The travel had been rough on them both. Ryl hadn’t regained consciousness and his frequent convulsions made carrying him an extraordinarily troublesome task. The mercenary’s legs burned by the time he laid Ryl on the ground under the dappled shade of a stunted tree.

  Andr stocked up on what little food he could forage. Filling up their water skins he forced Ryl to drink small sips from his. Burning several hours of daylight, the mercenary fashioned a litter with which to drag his unconscious companion.

  Searching the small glade, he located a set of similarly sized branches, both easily a head taller than himself. Neither were straight yet would work to accomplish his purpose. Andr lashed them together at one end, using the remains of the salvaged rigging from their ill-fated vessel. The twisted arc of both branches bowed out at the opposite end, creating a rough triangular shape.

  Using smaller branches, he added three crossbars at the widest end of the triangle. Andr cannibalized the material from Ryl's pack, making it into long strips. Some he used to lash the remaining branches together, the rest he weaved between the supports creating a crude net.

  Andr moved his travois out of the glade before returning to carry Ryl. He deposited his unconscious body gently on the net he’d lashed atop the crisscrossing supports.

  “I'll be right back,” Andr informed his companion.

  Though the conversation was one-sided, he found himself talking to his unresponsive charge regularly. The dialogue was likely a product of his growing fatigue.

  Andr moved with speed to the top of the hill. The ever-present mountains loomed higher into the sky, yet for the first time, he could make out the green tips of trees at their base. Up until now the gently rising terrain had blocked his view of the forest. Ahead of them the land sloped slightly downward revealing the forest.

  The sight of the distant trees was uplifting, a welcomed
change from the constant reddish hues they’d grown accustomed to during their trek through the Outlands. Andr hurried back to Ryl, his flagging energy temporarily rejuvenated. With the forest now in sight, he was eager to push on.

  The trees were tantalizingly close. So too were the mountains. Andr guessed that another day’s travel would find them under the cover of the forest. Another day without sleep, yet once they arrived, what then?

  Shrugging his shoulders, mumbling a string of profanities to himself, he lifted the narrow end of the travois, sliding his body underneath it. Bracing the wood against his chest, he pushed his way forward. For the first few paces, the progress was painfully slow. Once they started moving, however, the motion became easier. He frequently rotated from shoulder to shoulder, shifting the pressure and discomfort of the added weight.

  Nightfall again found them hunkered down in an empty cave, the travois forming a rudimentary door to the narrow entrance in the rock. Ryl had been unresponsive nearly the entire day. His symptoms seemed to be in a stalemate of sorts; balancing at a worrisome level, though thankfully not deteriorating any further. The rapid decline in Ryl's health had been a shock to Andr. Looking at his near lifeless form brought back uncomfortable memories of the harrowing, breakneck ride from Tabenville to Cadsae after he'd rescued Ryl from the pool.

  The early darkness of the evening started out peacefully. The still of the night was unbroken. No shadows meandered in front of his vision. No sounds broke the silence. Andr remained on alert though his head dipped as his body pleaded with him for rest.

  The muffled clicking sound from the right drew his attention. As the sound approached rapidly, he ripped his sword from its sheath. Without warning a black shadow streaked by, a few meters from their cave, running at a mind-boggling sprint. The bloodthirsty scream it issued forth as it careened by made him jump in surprise.

  The night descended back into silence. Hours passed before the next occurrence. An ear-piercing wail ripped through the silence of the night. The noise was loud enough to sound like it was emanating from an unseen mouth merely inches from the entrance to their cave. Andr waited, sword in hand for the attack.

  An attack that never came.

  The remainder of the night was a random mixture of screams, wails, grunts and other indescribable sounds. Occasionally the shadows would dart past the opening, at other times they’d remain unseen calling from any number of locations around their precarious shelter.

  As the night wore on, Andr accepted the reality that the Horde that assailed them were merely toying with him. What were they waiting for?

  The night ended with no appreciable change in Ryl's condition. Andr nursed him into taking a few sips of water, yet he retched up most attempts. The bone chilling noises from the Horde had ceased with the coming of the morning light. The sun was a welcomed sight as the light of its rays stretched into their cave.

  Andr cautiously stepped from their small shelter, stretching out his arms. A black shape darted behind a rock a hundred paces to his front. The seasoned veteran scanned the landscape, turning quickly to cover all directions. Hallucinations were well known effects of extended periods without sleep. Was he feeling the effects already?

  Turning to his rear, he witnessed another dark figure as it slipped behind the crest of the hill.

  These were no hallucinations.

  Andr loaded Ryl into the makeshift sled with haste. The woods were nearly within his grasp. The mountains that had looked so impossibly far, that had never seemed to get any closer, now appeared within reach.

  Onward he forged toward the mountains and the growing green line of the forest on the horizon. He glimpsed scattered views of the Horde to either side as they progressed further north, closing the distance between themselves and the woods. They remained at a distance, taunting them from their wings.

  As the day progressed, the sightings of their blackened forms steadily increased. As they approached the forest, their behavior became more frantic. The calls and screams began to intensify, swelling into an agitated racket. He’d counted at least four lanky shadows moving along with them, flanking them from both sides.

  The setting sun was falling rapidly through the sky to the west as Andr approached the welcome embrace of the forest. The Horde that had tracked them at his flanks had peeled off, melting back into the landscape, although their cries resounded in the distance. A little more than a mile spanned the gap between them and the leafy green trees of the woods. The shelter of the living forest called to him, urging them forward.

  Andr cursed as the group of the Horde crept out from behind the lone cairn standing between them and the forest. The group numbered six in total.

  He felt the knot in his stomach as he lurched to a stop. Andr had seen their speed; seen their devastating, natural weaponry close up. There was no way he'd survive open combat with a group that size alone. Their numbers and agility would cut him down in a heartbeat.

  With his path forward blocked, he paused, glaring at the deadly obstruction in his path. There was something odd about their actions. The movements of the Horde had become frantic, yet still seemed planned. Their heads turned rapidly to survey the forest behind, as if they were leery of what lurked under the shadows of the trees. Their behavior spoke to a nervous expectation. What in the forest could cause this attitude?

  Andr looked in both directions. To the east, the landscape was flat; there were no ridges to find shelter within. To the west lay a large section of trees, cut off from the green of the forest by a mile of open terrain.

  The reddish orange trees were less stunted here than in the staggered copses they'd relied on to this point. The grove appeared as if it had been severed from the forest to the north, left to wither in the poisoned air of the Outlands.

  Andr quickly changed direction, moving for the stunted trees. The group blocking their path to the forest trailed in their wake, cutting off their access to the woods. He pushed forward with all his might. They would need to find some shelter inside the trees to hole up for the night.

  If not shelter, he’d need to find some means of defense, some means of evening the odds. Even if only by a fraction.

  Ryl moaned as they bounced over a rock.

  “I'm sorry, Ryl,” Andr responded. “Looks like we've got a long night ahead of us.”

  There was no reply.

  Chapter 12

  Andr abandoned the travois at the edge of the grove, gathering his pack, and slinging Ryl over his shoulder. The Horde that trailed them had remained between them and the woods that cloaked the foot of the mountain. They’d grown silent, yet still regarded the green forest with frequent suspicion.

  The grove the pair entered was healthier than any of the previous. The trees were straighter with greater space between their solid trunks, though their branches clogged the paths between. They were taller than their stunted counterparts. Their tops stretched far higher into the sky.

  From outside the Horde resumed their chilling calls.

  Andr wasted no time moving deeper into the grove, cautiously weaving around the trunks. His eyes scanned through the trees, anticipating an attack to come from outside or an ambush from within. The waning light from the sun cast the grove in deep shadows, imparting an ominous feeling.

  Toward the middle of the grove Andr stumbled into a large clearing. One side of the opening bordered a massive rock that stretched nearly as high as the tree-tops, some fifteen meters into the sky. In several locations the exterior of the rock was split by great vertical cracks. The surface was rough to the touch, covered in rust colored lichen. The rock face angled inward from either side coming to an indented point near the center of the stone.

  Toward the middle, a narrow seam tore into the rock running the entire height of its face. At the ground level, the opening was large enough to prop Ryl into a sitting position. There would be no shelter in the relative safety of a cave tonight. With their backs against the rock, he'd succeeded in narrowing the avenue of attack down to
three sides.

  They were nearly out of daylight; the inky depths of darkness would soon be upon them. With the darkness would come the Horde. They had been driven into the grove as their only hope for salvation. Andr was struck with the sickening feeling that they'd been forced into a trap. For some reason, the Horde wanted them here. They’d been toying with them for nights.

  They would have their answers soon.

  Leaving Ryl propped in the rock crevice, Andr made a rapid survey of the clearing, collecting anything that would burn. The area was devoid of trees but small patches of shriveled bushes dotted its sparse interior. The clearing spanned twenty meters across; the trees that formed its border, though healthier than those they'd grown accustomed too, looked sickly. They appeared to be suffering, slowly withering into their stunted relatives from the heart of the Outlands. Their living sprigs were condensed into a single area, while the balance was left to rot.

  Andr amassed a large pile of dead and dried branches, building a stack for the fire several paces from where he’d left Ryl. He doubted he’d gathered enough to last the night, yet there was no more time.

  The mercenary rushed to start a fire. The spark caught easily in the dry tinder, bursting into flames. Without warning, the tormenting cries from the Horde echoed through the trees coming from every direction. He could feel the anticipation in their fevered wails.

  The light of the day faded into night. A deep violet covered the sky overhead as the final glow of the sun's light was pushed out by the spreading darkness.

  The weary mercenary watched with apprehension as one by one the trees lining the outskirts of the clearing disappeared behind a growing wall of darkness. Shadows crept silently closer until they struck the outskirts of the illuminated circle of the firelight. The flickering light of the blaze seemingly held back the darkness from enveloping them all.