The Weight of Darkness (Catalyst Book 5)

by C. J. Aaron

  The assault had been potent, the strength, unexpected, yet in the wake of the initial wave, Ryl felt the surge of clarity from within. With a sharp exhale, he hammered the destructive emotions with a focused wash of hope. From behind, his emotional call was answered as the phrenics responded in kind. Under the refined emotions of the trained warriors, three distinct voices sounded clear. Though raw and unfocused, the unawakened had found their voices.

  Ryl growled as he gave in to the speed and fire that coursed through his veins. The alexen screamed as he charged forward. The Lei Guard, approaching with naked blades, slowed to a crawl as he met them empty-handed.

  Though the Leaves remained concealed in the holsters behind his back, he was well equipped. His right arm swirled with the ferocity of a storm. His left glowed with a brilliant white light as he met his foes head on.

  Two groups, fourteen of the black-cloaked warriors, had descended the stairs. They moved with a lethal purpose that spoke to their ill intent. The hunters showed little regard for their prey, their instincts reverting to the feral qualities of the host that poisoned their blood. Aside from the timing of the initial emotional assault, there was no coordination to their charge.

  With ease, Ryl ducked under the blade of the first Lei Guard. The slow progress of the curved blade rippled the air in its wake as it passed overhead. He hammered his right fist into the chest of the guard; the blast of wind expelled on contact, tossing the body backwards into its companions. With a roar, the focus of the remaining attackers centered on him.

  A sudden sense of unease flooded his body as he pivoted, charging the next closest Lei Guard. His emotions had blinded him to the peril that his companions faced. He hardened the woodskin on his left forearm as he slammed it into the sword arm of the closest warrior. The snapping of bone and the inhuman shriek joined the chorus as the blade skipped harmlessly across the floor. The momentary separation gave him a moment to cast a rapid glance back at his friends. The phrenics were positioned at the outer flanks of their meager circle; Andr, Cavlin, and the Vigil were staggered between them. Weapons had sprouted from every hand in the group. Fire burned along the entirety of Vox’s arm.

  Though Ryl’s glance was rapid, his survey brief, the look he witnessed, written across the faces of his friends, was determined. The Lei Guard in the gallery above had reached the end of the aisles; they now moved steadily downward, minding none who stood in their way.

  His glimpse was brief, yet the vision was concrete. What he saw, though chilling, brought the hints of a wicked smile to his face. His lips curled up at their corners as his full attention turned to the Lei Guard before him. He had their sole and undivided attention. Just as the Horde challenged for leadership, testing the strongest among their numbers, the Lei Guard, lacking the true power of the king or of the position Leiroth had inhabited, sought the next untested in line.

  They sought him.

  The alexen in his veins screamed in defiance; for a moment, their call overwhelmed the agony brewing in his left arm. Giving in to the glowing power that threatened to tear him apart would be catastrophic. He could feel the massing strength from the explosion of energy that would render the Lei Guard impotent, yet the icy chill of the emptiness that flowed in its wake was terrifying. At times, he struggled to maintain the call of the darkness from within. Would there be a point that their strength was too great for him to contain?

  He feared the loss of consciousness that was sure to follow with the sudden release of that power. There was no time to haul his overspent body around. He would not let himself be a burden to his friends yet again. This was a fight he intended to complete with the full control of his faculties.

  There was a message that must be received. His work was far from over.

  Ryl charged back into the fray, colliding with the next closest Lei Guard. With a focused gust of wind from his right hand, he chopped out the man’s legs; as he spun around the airborne body, he hammered his left fist into the helpless guard’s back. The mild release of tension, of the agony that had been swelling to a fevered pitch, was noted relief. The Lei Guard struck the floor with a sickening smack, as his hands hadn’t had the time to move to slow his fall.

  Ryl caught a glimpse of his left hand as he turned to face the next guard. A blinding white glow covered his fingers; his bones appeared as thin black silhouettes within. The realization flooded his mind. Information concealed until the time was right unlocked as he twisted away from the tip of the blade meant to pierce his body. The power, the unexpected second skill that had puzzled him since the alexen had painted the tattoos on his arm in the depths of the nexus became clear.

  Until now, the equalizing power had been used in desperation. The momentary cost was difficult to bear. The lasting effects were a daily, growing challenge. Ryl squeezed his left hand into a fist, watching as the light ceded to his command. As if his fingers were wrapped around the handle of a blade, the white glow extended outward, forming a thin shaft of light. Unlike the serrated, burning green Leaves, this blade appeared faint. There were no rigid lines to outline its form, only a rapid gradient from the condensed beam of energy. Though it shined with a brightness that was nearly blinding, it issued little illumination beyond its edges.

  Armed with the translucent weapon, he fell on the remaining Lei Guard with renewed vigor. Holding the blade in his hand was an unnatural feeling. His hand closed on the handle though he could make out no definition of its texture or form. It was as if he squeezed onto a length of pure energy. Instinctively, he slapped at the wicked blade aimed at him, parrying the thrust. His blade passed through the weapon with no resistance. His speed saved him as he rolled from the attack meant to cut him down.

  His agility controlled his tumble; Ryl sprang to his feet behind the Lei Guard. He twisted his body as he slashed at the back of the black-cloaked warrior. Though the blade sliced through its body without opposition, the effects were dramatic. With an agonized wail, a voice that sounded more feral than human, the Lei Guard crumpled where he stood. The curved blade slipped from his hand as his body collapsed to the stone.

  Ryl felt the energy that passed through his body. The glowing blade of energy pierced the taint of the nexela as it penetrated the guard. He felt the connection holding its control over the shell that was once a tribute sever as it consumed the poison that held its victim in thrall. The whispers of blackness inside grew louder as it added to its complement inside his own core.

  He danced around the sluggish motions of the Lei Guard. Every strike of his blade cut through the defenses of his attackers. One by one, the black-cloaked guards fell before him. He met the last of the initial group in the center of the chamber floor. Twisting behind the Lei Guard, he wrapped his right hand around the guard’s neck, pulling the body close. The blade in his left hand plunged through its back, protruding from its chest as the consciousness departed from the black-cloaked warrior. The blade faded as Ryl pulled his hand away. He was the weapon that had inflicted the wound, yet now he cradled the limp body as it fell to the floor.

  As he rested the unconscious figure on the white tile, he pulled back the hood, revealing the face underneath. Black stains still streaked the pale skin, though they faded as he watched. As with so many, the face was familiar to him, though the identity was unknown. The brand on the man’s neck burned a deep red.

  H1330.

  Ryl had been only an infant when this unfortunate soul was Harvested. How long did he languish in perpetual torment before being corrupted into the dreaded warriors?

  He had decimated the two groups of Lei Guard with little effort. After the initial effects of their emotional onslaught, the sensations they forced had amounted to little more than a mild annoyance. Their attacks faltered before the combined effects of the phrenics. His mindsight painted the image of the rounded hall. At the center burned the glowing golden orbs of the phrenics with the unawakened condensed within their orbit. Ringing the entire room save for the small gap before the doors, the black l
ine of Lei Guard had pressed closer. He raised his eyes from the unconscious shell at his feet. The line of the black-cloaked warriors now stood on the lowest step of the auditorium. They had pushed their way through the assembled nobles, now standing rigid, one hand on their sheath, the other on the handle of the wicked, curved blade concealed within.

  “Enough,” Kagran screamed as Ryl rose to his feet. He frothed with anger as he stalked down the stairs, descending from his vaulted platform like a meteor plummeting to the earth. Behind him a mass of Lei Guard followed in tight formation. At their rear, a steady stream of soldiers flowed, branching out to either side, encircling the upper level of the hall, filling the places where the Lei Guards had stood only moments before.

  “I tire of your games. I’ve seen through your parlor tricks to understand the fraud that you, that the phrenics truly are.” His voice increased in pitch as his cries rang throughout the hall. “There are but a handful of you while hundreds of my Lei Guard surround you. I assure you there are more waiting in the wings, a wave of blackness ready to sweep you back into the bowels of the history to which you belong. Beyond them an army of thousands awaits my command. Your position is hopeless.”

  Ryl shrank back a step as the force of the emotional assault of the Lei Guard caught him off guard. His mind reeled with doubt. He had led them knowingly into a trap. His overconfidence would be their doom. He angled his body to the side, turning his head to view his friends behind him.

  The images that assaulted his mind were staggering. The floor where his friends stood was coated in a rippling pool of crimson. Massive birds tore at the flesh of the remains that were once his closest companions.

  The visions cleared in an instant, though the scar of their loss still echoed through his body. The darkness within his core screamed for control as it battled against the heat that surged through his veins. He squinted back the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes. Through the blur, his gaze met Andr’s. In the mercenary’s eyes burned a fire of determination. Though the warrior struggled to maintain his footing as the effects of the emotional onslaught forced him to his feet, he refused to give in. Ryl scanned the faces of his friends, finding similar looks of resolve etched into their features.

  They had come here to settle a score far more ancient than any could recall.

  They had come here to fight.

  Ryl felt the flames of determination ignite anew in his core. The numb, empty sensation that had penetrated broke, melting under the fires within. He turned, rolling his shoulders as he glared at the man who had assumed control of the kingdom. Behind him, the thump of footsteps approached. He could feel the presence of his companions as they reached his back.

  “Lies. You can hide the truth from the sycophants who claw at the scraps you leave behind, yet you cannot fool me,” Ryl whispered, though the force of the words echoed throughout the room. “The might of your dreaded black guard stands before you. Your personal army is scattered thin. The army you dispatched to see your message conveyed to The Stocks will not reach the walls. The last I saw of your patrol, a solitary runner hastened to warn the others that you’ve dissolved the houses, usurping the power of the kingdom under one throne.”

  Lord Kagran’s body quivered in anger.

  “I issued no such command,” he bellowed.

  “No, you didn’t.” Ryl’s voice was even as he replied. “I did.”

  “It matters not what you believe. What you say. You have no power here,” he shrieked. The veins running up either side of his temples bulged, throbbing as he strained in anger. Out of sheer animosity, he stalked forward, step after step, as does a man who believes that he has true strength at his side. “The rule of Damaris has remained unchanged for centuries. Like the king before, my power will remain while your rebellion will fail.”

  Ryl’s mindsight flashed to view unbidden, the images interlacing with the reality that surrounded him. They were outnumbered; the force of the assault was manageable with their combined efforts, though were he to give in to the energy that begged for release, he would likely be rendered useless. It was a plight he could not bear to leave solely on the shoulders of others. The ring of black signatures seemed to constrict around them. Directly below the center of the room, a mere step to his left, the wispy mass of charcoal signatures seethed with agitation.

  His presence had grown too close.

  “Unlike you, unlike your kind, those here understand the true nature of things,” he cackled as he preached. “Power. Life. Control. All will come from my hands and mine alone. The Blessing of the King is mine to distribute as I see fit. Those who obey will be rewarded. Those who defy me will be destroyed.”

  Lord Kagran shuffled to the side as he continued, folding his hands behind his back.

  The realization of the image that had flashed in his mindsight dawned with startling clarity. That there were no more Lei Guard, Ryl was certain, yet below his feet, the taint of the nexela remained. He had consolidated his power. He’d stockpiled his supplies where he could defend them.

  Beneath thirty feet of stone. The words of Mender Brahn rang in his ears.

  “We are all here for the same thing, you know?” Lord Kagran grinned.

  He pivoted, beckoning to the Lei Guard massed behind his position. The guard shifted, opening their ranks to allow the passage of the one they concealed among their numbers. Ryl’s anger burned white hot; he struggled to contain the fury that raged through his veins. A pair of Lei Guard dragged a child between their bodies.

  The youngster had his hands tied behind his back though he writhed in desperation. His face was dirty and bruised, though the fresh tears streaming from his eyes washed salty paths down his cheeks. The boy’s clothes were tattered and stained with dirt and blood. Ryl felt his heart skip a beat; a sickening pit formed in his stomach as he noted the weeping brand burned into the child’s neck.

  “We are all here for the Deliverance,” Lord Kagran hissed as the Lei Guard heaved the boy into his waiting arms. He wrapped an arm around the child, pinning him to his body; with his other hand, he removed a blade, holding it to the child’s neck. Behind him, the Lei Guard backed away, sealing the gap in the line.

  “If you move, the tribute dies,” Kagran growled. “This child will fetch quite the ransom given the present circumstances. From the smoke I see billowing from the south, you no doubt understand that he will be the first of the new Harvest. I look forward to seeing the price your blood will fetch.”

  The silent eruption of emotion that washed over Ryl was startling. There was no voice, no cry to announce the sudden surge. A wave of heat accompanied the ferocity of the anger as the uncontrolled rage burned through the bonds holding back the power of the alexen. Ryl had felt that release for himself. He sensed the familiarity in the concussive blast that had freed Aelin from his shell.

  One of the unawakened had blossomed.

  Ryl noted the flash of motion from his right. His grasp over the speed in his veins was steady, yet he released his hold as he identified the figure.

  Palon darted across the room. It took the stealthy unawakened a matter of a few steps to cross the distance, his body crouched, launching forward like a beast of prey, coiled, ready to strike. As he neared Lord Kagran, he rose to his full height; his right elbow shot forward, striking the fuming lord squarely in the face. There was a crunching of bone and a spray of crimson as his nose shattered. In the same motion, he swept his leg under the unsuspecting lord. The tainted man, withered by age, spun in the air, his legs rotating up over his head. Palon arrested the rotation mid spin, driving the man to the stone tile. The child, freed from his grasp, spilled to the ground, though he curled into a fetal position, too afraid to move.

  Kagran landed squarely on his chest. He let out a rasping, choking cough as the air was robbed from his lungs. Palon landed on the man’s back, knees straddling the helpless, ancient lord. The high-pitched whistle of his blade sliding from its sheath sang over the room. The lord whimpered as the unawa
kened warrior wrenched his head from the tile; the blade moved without hesitation toward his neck.

  The sound of Palon’s blade was echoed by the near simultaneous notes of hundreds of blades leaving their sheaths. The sound shrieked through the room, carrying with it a paralyzing fear that froze him in place. The Lei Guard moved in for the slaughter.

  The sudden paralyzing fear rooted his feet to the ground. Ryl understood in that instant that he was the herald of his friend’s death. They had followed him willingly, yet he had failed them again. Another would die pursuing his cause. Palon’s blood would be on his hands. The Lei Guard would fight for their master. Much like the Horde, they followed strength, though the will to challenge the orders, to fight the structure of their position for superiority had been ferreted out over the cycles. They followed strength unquestioningly.

  Meters remained before his friend’s life would be cut short before his eyes. Ryl was helpless to reach him in time.

  The sudden impulse was as shocking as it was regenerating.

  Agony ripped through his left arm as if the skin and muscles twisted around his bones. Time ground to a halt. The unbearable pain stretched out for an eternity.

  Ryl’s head rolled back uncontrollably; his hood slipped from his face as his mouth fell open.

  Chapter 46

  The roar that emanated from Ryl’s mouth was deafening. The unnatural wail rattled the windows of the domed ceiling above as thunderous noise filled the hall. Packing the gallery, the spectators and Lord Kagran’s guards alike cringed as they covered their ears in defense against the audible assault. The Lei Guard froze in place, their blades lowered apprehensively to the ground. Only a step behind Palon, the black-cloaked guard rested the flat of his blade on the unawakened’s shoulder, only a finger’s width from his neck.