Ghosts of the Erlyn (Catalyst Book 3)

by C. J. Aaron

  “We seek a man and a young girl,” the man stated plainly with no regard for the words that spewed from his mouth. He paced slowly along the line of his fellow hunters as he continued. “They chose to run when the law commanded them to stay. They are outlaws. They were last seen heading north past Milstead. Now I’ll ask again, and if you value your lives, you’ll take care to choose your words wisely. Have you encountered any others in your travels?”

  “No, we’ve seen no one,” Aldren gasped.

  “The girl would be about this tall,” the rider continued disregarding Aldren’s words in their entirety. He held his left hand out to the side, his palm facing down just above his waist. “Her hair is blonde and curly. Her eyes are an unforgettable shade of blue.”

  Ryl felt sickened by the description. The hunter described the child like he’d ask for a piece of fruit at the market.

  “The father is tall and of slim build,” he said. “He has tattoos on his right arm. Come to think of it, he stands about your height if I recall.”

  The lead hunter stopped at the end of the line of companions. From where he paused, he was less than three meters from Ryl. The point of his sword, extended toward the phrenic's chest, covered nearly a third of that distance.

  “Now it’s his eyes I’ve been told that give his true identity away,” the hunter continued. “They’re almost as blue as his tainted offspring.”

  Tainted.

  In the list of insults and hatred that spewed from the mouth of the hunter, it was that one word that truly pushed Ryl to the point of breaking. They were mercilessly stalking the young girl as a fugitive. Any who assisted in her plight would likely be cut down in the process. The child, like all tributes, was innocent of the burden that had been unknowingly placed upon their shoulders. If the child was a fugitive, then she was not alone.

  There was yet another roaming free in the Kingdom of Damaris.

  The thought was simultaneously encouraging and revolting. Ryl found his patience was quickly running thin.

  He took a deep breath, steadying himself for the actions he assumed to be imminent.

  “Show me your face and writ of absolution, now,” the rider ordered.

  He glared at Ryl as the moments ticked by. There would be no writ produced. The simple parchment was always required to be carried on your person. The certified document proved that no trace of alexen was present in your blood. The writ had been denied to Ryl the moment his Ascertaining testing results were known.

  “Are you deaf, or do you wish to die?” the hunter screamed. “You dare defy the King?”

  “You are not the King,” Ryl whispered. His voice was hushed yet the power behind his words struck with a resounding force. “Without authentication your paper is worthless.”

  The hunter inhaled a deep breath, the air made a hissing sound as it escaped through the gaps on his clenched teeth. Ryl watched his face flush red as the blood rushed to it. His eyes bulged. He looked wild with anger.

  To his side, from inside the wagon, Ryl heard the barely audible quiet creak of a bow string being drawn back. It was the other noise, growing steadily from the north, however, that stopped the hunter in his tracks.

  Ryl knew what was approaching.

  It was the rider maintaining his position in the farthest west position of the line who reacted first. Ryl saw his eyes grow wide as the realization set in. There was no mistaking the wagon that closed steadily on them from the north.

  The black cloaks of the two riding at its head billowed out behind them like ominous shadows in the wind.

  Ryl concentrated on the riders before him, sending out a wave of raw emotion. He poured out an intense fear that broke over them like a tidal wave on the shore. Several of the hunters in the line behind took an involuntary step back.

  “Joem. It’s the Lei Guard,” the voice came from the rear line. It was shaky, devoid of the slightest shred of confidence.

  The lead hunter maintained his glare for a moment longer. He broke off the measured stare as he growled and spat at Ryl's feet.

  “Leave them,” he cursed as he backed toward his accomplices who were already making for their horses. “I assure you, the Lei Guard will not be as forgiving as I.”

  Joem took a step backward before wheeling about and hastening to their horses that had been allowed to wander after they’d dismounted.

  The first of the four riders was approaching the roaming beasts. Ryl let the wind swell around his right arm. He felt the alexen pulling at the air, rapidly drawing the power toward his hand. With a quick flick of his arm, he sent a focused stream of wind into the face of the closest of the waiting horses.

  The gust struck the anxious animal in the face. Spooked by the sudden attack, the horse neighed in protest as it reared back on its hind legs. Its front legs kicked wildly. There was a sickening sound of snapping of bone as its hoof connected with the shoulder of the closest hunter. The man screamed in pain as he collapsed to the ground. Two of his companions dragged him to safety as the hooves of the horse pummeled the earth around him. The other rider grabbed the reins attempting to calm the startled mount.

  “Get him up,” Joem called. “We leave now.”

  Ryl and his companions watched as the riders helped their wounded companion into the saddle. With a final glare, they wheeled around, urging their horses into a gallop. It was only a matter of moments before they’d disappeared around the bend in the distance.

  From behind, the sound of the approaching wagon grew steadily.

  Ryl released his hold on the Leaves with his left hand, folding his arms across his chest.

  Andr cocked his head slightly as he looked over in his direction. With a muted chuckle, the mercenary released the grip on his weapon.

  From under the shadow of his hood, the wicked grin on Ryl’s face was painfully visible.

  Chapter 6

  The cloud of dust had yet to settle in the wake of the rapid retreat of the hunters as Ryl and his companions resumed their trek. It had been agreed upon that there would be no direct contact between wagons on the road barring a dire emergency. The approach of the black wagon visibly slowed as the hasty exit of the unknown riders was noted.

  Andr quickly collected his horse, mounting it in one fluid stride. He angled the mount back toward the wagon, his voice was quiet yet serious.

  “Stay alert,” he warned. “I’d be surprised if they doubled back with the appearance of the Lei Guard and the injury to their companion, yet I’d put nothing past them. Their thirst for blood has few equals. Dav, stay within sight.”

  The Vigil nodded as he mounted his horse. Without another word Andr turned, spurring his horse ahead. He crossed over the dried bed of the stream, slowing when he reached the bend in the road.

  Up until this point, his patrols had frequently taken him well out of sight as he scouted the road and terrain ahead. Ryl doubted if the seasoned mercenary would sever his visual connection with the wagon during the remainder of their trip. With the suspicious eyes of hunters in the area, extra caution was required. Though his watch was thorough, he knew Andr would devote extra attention seeking evidence of the fleeing father and his daughter.

  Ryl rounded the rear of the wagon, pausing as his hand reached for the back flap. He focused, sending a feeling of calm over the phrenic inside. There was muted chuckle from within before the flap opened abruptly into his face. Kaep held the fabric door open, greeting Ryl with a smile.

  He hopped easily into the rear of the wagon. For a moment their bodies brushed together as he squeezed past her. The magnetic sensation was there, yet he’d not been fully prepared for the strength of it. With effort, he forced himself past, sitting down before the first of the tributes. He thought he saw the hint of surprise flash across her face, yet he couldn’t be certain.

  “I admire your restraint, Ryl,” Kaep said quietly as she made to exit. “I can’t say I wouldn't have buried an arrow in each and every one of them.”

  In truth, he was a matter of
moments away from ending their lives by himself. If not for the timely appearance of the black wagon, the Leaves would have surely come to life. Through actions that were largely out of his control Ryl had been thrust into situations where taking the life of another had become a necessity.

  Submaster Osir whose torture and abuse had reigned unchecked.

  The assassins at Tabenville who had sought his blood on the path through the Erlyn.

  Master Delsith and his henchman who’d attempted to defile Sarial, nearly robbing her of life in the process.

  With every situation, the horror of the aftermath had survived to haunt his thoughts.

  Ryl recalled with nauseating clarity the instant the final spark of life extinguished from their eyes. Their deaths were a direct result of their abhorrent actions. Ryl had played the parts of judge and executioner. He’d felt a definitive satisfaction that they could no longer harm another living soul, yet he was repulsed by his actions.

  He’d suffer the internal torment to prevent them from destroying the lives of others.

  “I was only a breath away from doing the same,” Ryl admitted quietly.

  His eyes quickly catalogued the interior of the wagon. All of the tributes remained as they had when he’d last seen them. He noted the slow rise and fall of their chests. His eyes lingered when they reached the shadow of his friend. Elias’ face was turned to the side, facing the back of the wagon. His cheek rested on the wooden litter below him. His rest looked peaceful. Ryl felt his insides twist with doubt and regret. What would remain of his friend?

  “Please keep your senses open for the signs of a tribute as we travel onward,” Ryl said. “If luck is on our side, we can find them before the hunters do.”

  Kaep locked her eyes with his. Their gaze held for what felt like an eternity. He couldn’t tell if she was studying him or searching for more answers.

  “You’ll not stop until you’ve saved them all, will you?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Not if I can help it,” he responded without pause.

  The corners of her lips turned up into a small smile.

  “And I’ll be by your side until the end,” she whispered.

  Kaep let the curtain fall as her voice stopped.

  Ryl tracked the quiet crunch of her shoes on the loose soil of the road with his eyes. Moments later, Aldren gave the command to move. He was prepared for the gentle lurch forward, bracing himself with a hand on the side of the wagon.

  His head remained down, arm against the wall as the wagon shook as it crossed over the uneven stream bed. He surveyed the surroundings with his mindsight, desperately seeking for any sign of the wayward child and her father. Outside the wagon, he saw the lingering trace of Ramm and Vox at the extent of his vision to the north. Kaep was seated several meters to the south. The surrounding landscape revealed no evidence of alexen. His thoughts sparked a memory, and the words of Da’agryn rang in his ears.

  They would find their way to you.

  The mysterious phrenic had spoken of a connection between phrenics. He'd described the pull between the alexen that drew those with the compound together. Da'agryn had warned that Ryl, with his active alexen, would draw others to him from far and wide.

  Ryl inhaled a deep breath, closing his eyes, willing the statement true. The child and her father could be anywhere. He pleaded that fate allow for their paths to cross. As he exhaled, he scanned again, confirming that which he already knew. There were no additional signatures outside of the wagon. He paused as his mind took note of the signatures of the tributes beside him. All still glowed with a weak, pale light. Given time, would their alexen return to its previous state, or would this be their new norm were they to awaken?

  His eyes opened suddenly as his mind understood the information presented to him. Inside the wagon, six signatures now lay unmoving in a row. The furthest to the rear of the wagon was the dullest of them all; the glow was barely perceptible.

  He turned his body to the side, peering into the dim light. Ryl let out an audible gasp. His heart skipped a beat in his chest.

  Elias’ head had turned from before. His face was pointed toward Ryl and the exit.

  His eyes were open. There was a slight glimmer of a wry smile on his lips.

  “Ryl,” his voice was ragged, barely a whisper. “Is that you?”

  Chapter 7

  Ryl nearly fell as he hurdled the prone tributes between he and Elias. He stumbled to his friend’s side in moments. The moisture began welling up uncontrollably in his eyes.

  “I’m here, Elias,” was all his feeble voice could muster. He choked back the tears that threatened to stream from his eyes.

  “You’ve grown since I last saw you,” the weak, airy voice of his friend replied. “It’s good to see you again.”

  In the nearly two cycles since Elias’ Harvest Ryl grown considerably. Gone was nearly any semblance of innocence in his frame.

  In Ryl’s time in the hidden city of Vim, he’d developed far beyond others his age. As a child growing up in the toxic environment that was The Stocks, he was forced to mature well before his time. Though barely just a shell of man at his arrival in Vim, his growth had accelerated exponentially with his recovery. With the addition of adequate nutrition, his frame had filled out.

  Ryl had always maintained a well-muscled, athletic physique as a result of the toils of manual labor. Gone now was the emaciated youth that had been freed from The Stocks. His body was still lean from exercise and constant training, yet it was muscles that shone through his clothes now, not bone.

  His maturation was far more than purely physical. As a product of his awakening, age ceased to matter to him. While he acknowledged that his birth was roughly eighteen cycles past, his age seemed inconsequential. He was now the accumulation of experiences of thousands of phrenics. He’d lived out countless cycles in their stead.

  “Where are we?” Elias mumbled.

  “It’s good to see you too. You’re safe, Elias,” Ryl admitted. “You’re with friends.”

  Elias’ gaze drifted past Ryl to the tributes laying on the litters stretched across the wagon. Hs eyes widened as he viewed the scene before him.

  “What happened to them?” he croaked.

  Ryl turned his vision back to the tributes for a moment before returning to his friend. Had he no recollection of what had happened?

  “Do you not remember?” Ryl asked delicately. “Elias, do you recall anything that’s happened to you since the Harvest?”

  Elias moved his head with effort, turning his gaze from his side to the ceiling of the wagon above. Ryl watched as his eyes darted back and forth, making short rapid movements, seemingly lost in thought. There was a pause as his gaze roamed the interior of the wagon. A tear rolled from his eye.

  “I feel like my memories are confined to still images of the time since I left The Stocks,” Elias whispered. “I remember seeing the city for the first time after so long. I remember the darkness and stench of the wagon. Then the pain. Never-ending pain.”

  His voice cracked as the emotion overtook him.

  "There was a blackness that covered everything," he continued after a long pause. "I remember blood. Enough blood that it rained down from above, coating everything in crimson. What have I done, Ryl?”

  As he spoke, the water in his eyes swelled until it could no longer be contained. What had started as a single drop, quickly progressed into a stream that ran down his face. His body wracked with sobs of anguish. Ryl noted the hint of black that stained his cheek as the tears left their trails on his skin. He placed his hands on his friend, concentrating on sending a wave of calm over his body.

  “I feel empty,” Elias gasped, his voice growing weaker and more staggered between the sobs and tears.

  “I feel cold. I feel anger. I feel hatred,” he whispered. “It’s as if a part of me had been removed and replaced with something vile. What happened to me?”

  He looked up at Ryl. His expression was wrought with a haunti
ng mixture of confusion, sorrow and fear. He struggled to maintain focus. His eyes fluttered then closed as he faded from consciousness.

  Ryl couldn’t answer his friend. The words stopped in his mouth. What had Elias done? What had he done? He focused on sending another wave of calm over his friend. His choking breaths between sobs quickly settled into a slow and steady rhythm. Ryl’s head dropped down, resting on his friend's chest, and tears began to stream from his eyes in a torrent that seemed never-ending.

  Elias.

  His friend. His brother.

  It was a comfort to know that at least somewhere within, a piece of the person he once knew remained intact.

  Ryl felt the distinct absence of the tingling sensation in his left arm. He was convinced that the taint of the nexela had been fully removed. Yet now it was for the mind of his friend that he feared.

  How long Ryl remained with his head on his friend's chest he was unsure. The regular rise and fall of his Elias’ breathing was a comfort to Ryl’s churning mind. He struggled to focus through the deluge of thoughts running rampant in his head. He forced himself to continue his regimented scanning of the surrounding area though his ambling mind was constant. There were no signs of any alexen from without.

  Drawing himself away from the shell of his friend, Ryl had set about tending to the tributes that remained unconscious in the wagon. Of all, Elias had been the only one to show any sign of waking, even though their conversation had been brief. He’d just finished spoon feeding the thin broth to the last of their charges when the wagon ground to a slow halt. Ryl felt the shift in weight as both Aldren and Kaep climbed down from their perches at the front.

  Moments later the flap at the back of the wagon opened revealing the darkened sky beyond. The flickering light of a torch illuminated the faces of both the merchant and the phrenic.

  “We'll stop here for a spell while the others catch up,” Aldren announced. “Any change in their condition?”

  Ryl took a deep breath before responding. He caught Kaep's eyes briefly, she flashed a sympathetic smile. Was his dejection that apparent to her?