Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2)

by C. J. Aaron

  The sun had risen past midday before the last of the weary travelers was fully prepared to exit the darkness of the tunnel. None desired to linger in the mouth of the cave any longer. Ryl could see that the eyes of the Vigil and Andr still struggled to adjust, yet none complained about leaving the darkness behind.

  Inside the tunnel, the atmosphere had been still, damp and cool. The moisture laden air made the temperature feel far colder than it was. Outside, the sun beat down on the road-weary travelers. The air was warm and dry, and the wind kicked up tiny particles of sand off the jagged peaks, whipping it around with a force that stung the skin.

  As Ryl led the group down the narrow rocky path into the solitary entrance to The Crags, Vox remained momentarily behind, reclosing the hidden door to the tunnels. All hoped that they’d seen the last of the river's dank passage.

  They stopped to examine the stones that stood like sentinels on either side of the narrow entry. Ryl ran his hand across the gritty surface of the rock; the weathered stone appeared stripped clean of any detail. The worry inside him began to grow. Would the marks bearing their passage through the rock maze still remain today? Had centuries of abuse from the punishing weather erased all trace?

  They cautiously eased their way into the labyrinth, sliding through a narrow crevice that ran between the jagged rocks. The tightly packed stones, some leaning precariously overhead, imparted Ryl with a profound feeling of apprehension. After the ambush in the tunnel he walked with at least one of the Leaves in his hand.

  Though harsh in its own regard, the there was an air of familiarity to the land outside the tunnel. The denizens of the subterranean passage had perhaps never witnessed, nor been viewed by man in the entirety of their existence. In the world above the mountain, the creatures that lurked in the shadows were more commonly understood. Though there was no fear of the Horde this far into Damaris, Ryl maintained a regiment of routine scans with his mindsight.

  They followed the winding path between the rocks for a short distance before arriving at their first intersection. Ahead of them, two pathways converged into a small gap between the stones. They paused in the space before fanning out scouring the rock for any hint or sign. At first glance, there were no marks to be found; the natural faces of the rocks appeared undisturbed.

  “There was no mention of where the sign would be, just that it would mark the path?” Deyalou said. “That's a convenient riddle.”

  “Is it possible that the signs have been worn off by the elements over the cycles?” Dav inquired.

  “It's more than likely,” Nielix said spitefully. “Yet I can’t believe that the ones who can make magical doors to conceal a tunnel would merely scratch an arrow into the rock to point their way.”

  Ryl paused his cursory search for a carved sign, eying the Vigil with understanding.

  “I have to admit, I agree with Nielix,” Ryl admitted, as his eyes returned up the pathway they'd just exited. An idea surged into his head.

  “Vox, come with me,” he said hurriedly. “We’ll be back in a moment.”

  The others looked confused as Ryl and the phrenic elementalist hastened back up the pathway. They worked their way through the stones until the exit to the weathered labyrinth was in sight. The rock face that held the hidden door to the tunnel towered in front of them. Ryl stopped as the familiar feeling of the lingering magic tugged at his senses.

  “Do you feel that, Vox?” Ryl asked. “Do you feel the call of the magic, the illusion that hides that door?”

  “From this far away, I feel nothing,” Vox admitted, shaking his head. “I need to be closer to feel it.”

  “Are the others as in tune with the feeling as you?” Ryl quizzed.

  “Not that I've ever been made aware of,” Vox explained. “As you know, their specialties focus on the physical sect.”

  “Come then,” Ryl said with a smile as he moved back toward the group. “I think I know how to find our sign.”

  Chapter 46

  The others were still searching the rocks of the pathway when Ryl and Vox rejoined the group. Having been raised with similar magic guarding the entrance to their hidden city from the world, the Vigil nodded their heads in approval as Ryl offered his theory. Andr simply stood smiling, his arms folded across his chest.

  Ryl, with Ramm in tow, chose the path that led to the right. Vox and Kaep moved down the path that veered toward the left. Deyalou remained with Andr and the Vigil.

  The path he'd chosen was narrow, and the hulking phrenic following at his rear grunted as he squeezed through an exceptionally thin crevice. Moments later, Ryl felt the hint of the magic tugging at his senses. The feeling grew stronger as they moved onward until it reached a throbbing crescendo shortly before the next intersection.

  Ryl surveyed the rocks along the wall for any signs of disturbance, yet all appeared to be the product of natural weathering. He stepped back, tilting his head up, scanning the jagged rocks above his head. Stepping back, the heel of his foot sunk into a small depression in the ground. Compared to the feel of the hard-packed earth between the windswept crevices, the object was startlingly spongy.

  He fell to his knees feverishly sweeping the sand from the shallow depression. Buried in the earth and covered with a thick layer of sand was a small circular stone, clearly manufactured and installed there by hand. The magic inside the stone throbbed in his ears.

  “Ramm, call the others,” Ryl said. “We've found our path.”

  The phrenic smiled as he hastened back to the group. It wasn't long before Ryl heard the sounds of their approach. After exposing his find, the group again set off in a single file line. At each intersection, Ryl and another would venture off a short distance down the paths. Now that he understood what he was looking for, the process became relatively simple, albeit time consuming.

  The position of the sun was hidden from their view inside the fractured peaks of The Crags, yet from the darkening sky above, they knew night was fast approaching. With relative ease they found an offshoot of the proper path that ended in a small hollowed out dead end. Necessitating a defense from only one narrow avenue of approach was a comfort that none had experienced since entering the tunnel under the Haven Mountains. Nevertheless, two were stationed on guard throughout the night.

  Their supplies had been all but exhausted. Their bellies ached from the reduced rations they'd been forced to subsist upon. Even with the addition of their fallen companion’s supplies, their stock wouldn't last more than another few meals.

  There had been no time to grieve the loss of Ceado. Though the path from The Crags had been discovered, another large piece of the journey almost complete, the mood was dour. Few words were exchanged as they settled in for the night, with weapons rested close at hand. The singing of the wind rushing through the narrow rocky crevices provided the melody that sang them to sleep.

  Morning found them refreshed and ready to move. Their uninterrupted slumber was blissfully absent of the pervasive fear of the unseen creatures lurking in the deep. The rest had done wonders for their ailing bodies. Ryl quickly resumed the task of leading the party through the zigzagging path in the maze of jagged rock.

  The day dragged slowly on. It was hours later, after crawling through an especially precarious section of rock, that Ryl spied the first glimpse of the forest spreading out before them. The serrated pathway of rock widened several meters ahead of him. Staggered spires of sharp stone were spaced apart, spreading out across the land between them and the forest. Several of the rock towers had toppled over from the relentless abuse of the wind and splotches of green grass dotted the barren landscape. Only a few hundred meters in the distance the forest rose from the earth, a wall of green against the drab plant-less terrain.

  Ryl dusted off his pants and cloak as he waited for the remainder of his companions. Andr stopped alongside, patting him on the shoulder.

  “This is the border of the Fellwood,” Andr announced quietly. “The estate of the late Lord Felloc sits on the edg
e of the lake two days walk to the east of here. In their home we would have found a friendly welcome. Rest assured that the man whose land we already tread upon is less than sympathetic to our cause.”

  “How do you know this for certain?” Nielix questioned.

  “Theirs was no random killing,” Andr spat. “This was a political assassination. An entire family, husband, wife, children, all paid with their lives to send a message. The King seized their lands and gifted it out to curry the favor of another noble.”

  “How do you know so much about this killing?” Nielix asked.

  “Murders of this high profile don’t happen regularly,” Andr admitted. “Violence like this is especially uncommon among the noble class. When deaths like this occur, the word spreads like wildfire.”

  Andr averted his gaze from the party back to the woods. Ryl caught the fleeting hint of emotion flash across his face. There was pain, there was struggle, there was loss. His friend watched the woods with wandering eyes. There was more to this story then he was admitting, of that Ryl was sure.

  “Let’s make for the forest,” Andr said. “We’re nearly out of food. There’s a stream not too far from here. We can find food, water and shelter under the trees.”

  Nielix was the first to move, suppressing a yawn as he confidently strode toward the woods. He casually slipped his sword back into the sheath on his belt.

  “Stay alert, my friend,” Andr warned. “It’s not the unknown to be feared here, it’s man. As you well know, the depravity of humankind is well documented in this kingdom.”

  The group fell into a rough line as they eagerly moved toward the forest. There was a visible lightness to their steps that had been missing for days.

  Ryl waited beside Andr as the rest walked toward the woods. He watched the retreating backs of his companions as he spoke to the mercenary.

  “This was the location of your last job, wasn’t it?” Ryl asked loud enough for only Andr to hear.

  In his heart he was confident of the answer.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Andr’s head drop. The mercenary needn’t utter a word. The pain, the confusion, and the loss were explained and justified. This last job had cost Andr dearly. He’d lost friends, his home—it had ushered in the ultimate betrayal of his wife and cost him his son. Ryl sent a wave of comfort over his friend before turning his head to meet Andr’s eyes. “There’s likely less than two weeks before the Harvest,” Ryl encouraged. “You’ll be reunited with your son soon.”

  Andr’s eyes bored into Ryl as they maintained their stare. After a moment, he blinked, nodding his head slightly.

  “I will follow you to the end, my friend,” he said. “Come, let’s keep up with the others.”

  Ryl and Andr followed their companions across the uneven terrain. The line separating the jagged rocks and lifeless landscape was dramatic. One step, the land was barren, a virtually lifeless tan void. The next, the small scatterings of resilient grasses along the border sprouted into a wall of greenery; short, wild grasses merging with the slender trees at the forest’s edge.

  Their companions had spread out forming a porous line across the forest’s face, peering into the darkened interior. The woods were nowhere near as dense as the Erlyn, or even the severed remains of the great forest that ran along the mountains, separating Vim from the wastes and demons of the Outlands.

  The forest here was alive, however, not in the same sense that the Erlyn was. Birdsong floated through the trees; squirrels chittered as they played in the branches above their heads.

  Andr continued forward as he reached the line. His unspoken command propelled the others into action, following his lead as he stalked into the woods. He moved onward with a familiarity as if he’d walked the forest's paths since he was a child. A single file line plotted along in his wake, carefully observing their surroundings for any sign of human activity.

  It wasn’t long before Andr led them to the banks of a narrow stream that ran in a southerly direction through the forest. They paused to refill their waterskins from the crisp, clean water before following its course further into the woods. Past midday they veered away from the stream, following a narrow game trail through a thick patch of laurel.

  The path led alongside the base of a massive boulder. A large tree uprooted at some point in the distant past leaned against the top of the rock. On its opposite side, the shrubs subsided, forming a large clearing. The boulder had fractured, depositing a significant chunk of stone a short distance from its side.

  “We can camp here,” Andr announced, placing his bag against the side of the rock. “There only two narrow entrances, an approach through the laurel would be far too noisy. Vox, think you can start us a fire?”

  “Aye, with pleasure,” the elementalist replied with a grin.

  “We'd do well to keep the smoke to a minimum," the mercenary instructed. "Dig two small adjacent holes about half a meter deep behind that rock. Connect their bottoms with a narrow tunnel. Use one hole for fuel, the second leave open for airflow. The fire will burn hot and discrete.”

  Andr rummaged through his pack retrieving a length of fine rope.

  “I'll set some traps,” he offered. “Kaep, if my memory serves me right, there is a small pool just downstream from where we entered the brush. Care to try your hand at fishing?”

  She nodded in reply.

  “Stay quiet. Stay alert,” Andr warned. “Dav, you're with me. Ryl, stay with Kaep.”

  Without another word, Andr hurried off using the second path that continued further past the rock. Kaep had already started walking back toward the stream, and Ryl hastened after her.

  The natural sounds of the forest were a deafening rumble compared to the silence that had accompanied them through the tunnel. Kaep had an arrow nocked as she stalked through the trees. Ryl shadowed her every move, the dormant Leaves in hand.

  Twice she paused drawing her bow before relaxing without a shot. The small unseen prey rustled off through the woodland, lucky to live another day. True to Andr's word, the stream formed a pool a short distance downstream. The setting was serene.

  High in the sky above, the sun cast its beams through the scattered canopy overhead, illuminating the forest in dappled light. Soft moss covered the rocks that lined the edge of the water, and tall ferns and grasses spread out from its banks.

  Ryl paused for a moment as the unexpected and unwelcome desires surged through his mind. In that instant, he was free. Free from the quest to liberate The Stocks. Free from the life that had kept him in relative chains for nearly half his existence.

  He shook his head ridding the thoughts. There was no time for fantasies of what couldn't be. The distraction was a danger. His focus hardened once more; his purpose resolute. The Stocks would fall. The tributes would be free.

  With a muffled sigh, he turned his attention back to their quest for food. The clear water of the pool was deep; Ryl could see the darkened shapes of large fish circling in its depths. Kaep's attention was focused downward, her bow drawn back to its peak tracking the fish below the water. A memory surfaced, a brief conversation in a wooded path. With it came an idea.

  “Kaep, hold,” Ryl whispered.

  She looked mildly annoyed at the interruption, but lowered her bow nonetheless.

  “Let’s see if I can help,” he offered.

  Ryl paused along the edge of the water. In the Erlyn, the forest had willingly provided its bounty. He had no delusions that the woods here would respond to his call, yet a piece of his conversation with Da'agryn had given him the idea he'd yet put to the test.

  He kneeled on the damp, moss covered stones focusing on the fish below while sending out a reassuring feeling of calm. At the same time, he willed the fish to rise.

  There was no question to his command. From below the fish responded on cue circling up to the surface. As the scales of their large bodies breached the water's surface, he plunged his hands into the cold water. His fingers closed around the slippery bodies o
f two fish as he yanked them out of the pool.

  His face was beaming with childlike pride as he turned to face Kaep with his haul. She slowly shouldered her bow, replacing the arrow in her quiver. The smile spread across her face.

  “Show me how to do that,” she said.

  Chapter 47

  Ryl and Kaep returned to the camp triumphant. Strung together on an arrow, ten fish were ready to be cooked. After well over a week surviving on the dried rations, the thought of fresh food made their stomachs rumble. Andr, who'd just returned from setting his traps, smiled at the pair.

  “Nice catch,” he said. “Well done.”

  He drew his sword, moving to one of the smaller saplings along the edge of the clearing. In one vertical strike he sheared the branches from one side. A second slash cleared the other side. A third sheared the tree off near its base.

  “Now we can eat,” the mercenary grinned.

  The fish were prepared and cooked over the small fire that Vox had burning, concealed behind the stone slab. The green branches Andr shaved from the tree served as a grill surface, protecting the fish from the coals below. A small stock of berries and wild greens had been scrounged together from the forest. Together with the freshly cooked fish, the meal was more than passable.

  The rough plan was decided in quiet discussion as the meal turned into the early evening. At best guess, nearly two weeks remained before the annual Harvest. The Stocks were well over one hundred miles to the south. The party would remain uninvited residents of the forest for a portion of that time, slowly making their way closer. There were several small towns and villages between their current location and The Stocks; Andr and the Vigil could easily slip in, restock their supplies, glean important information and disappear without drawing much attention.