Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2)

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Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2) Page 39

by C. J. Aaron


  For a moment, he was weightless as he floated in the air, his grey phrenic cloak billowing out behind him. As gravity regained its hold, the water and the earth below rushed toward him. His legs churned in the air subconsciously as if the act would propel his body further. It wasn’t until the last moment that he was convinced his attempt would succeed.

  As the fractured stones that remained a broken marker of the last few meters of the bridge rushed forward, he tossed the still body of Elias to the ground. He hoped the impact wouldn’t further damage the uncertain condition of his friend. Ryl hit the ground on his feet, immediately pitching forward into a roll. His normally controlled tumble fell apart as his body spilled over for a second time. His wounds tore as his body slammed into the ground, coming to a final stop face down on the hard road. Ryl sighed a breath of relief, kicking up a small cloud of dust and dirt into his face.

  Ramm and Kaep were at his side in an instant. Dav, Nielix and Soldi were only a few steps behind. The strength of the large phrenic effortlessly scooped him to his feet.

  “What were you thinking?” Kaep scolded as she slapped him on the chest. Her momentary anger reverted to relief as she embraced him, squeezing hard enough to elicit a wince of pain. The feeling, however, was electric. The overpowering sensation of their contact momentarily overwhelmed any discomfort in his body.

  “Now’s not the time for explanations. We need to make haste,” Ryl responded as he regretfully broke off the magnetic embrace. “Andr needs us. Kaep, can you help Vox?”

  She backed away, and a puzzling expression crossed her face before she nodded, hastening off to collect the elementalist.

  “You’re hurt, Ryl,” Ramm noted.

  “Aye,” Ryl admitted. “We can dress it on the way.”

  The tone of his voice came out harsher than he’d intended. He was sorry for having admonished his friend.

  “I’m sorry, Ramm,” Ryl said. “I fear for their safety. We know not what awaits them behind those gates. Can you carry the Lei Guard? I need him close by.”

  “Who is he?” Ramm asked as he nodded his head.

  “He was my friend,” Ryl whispered. “Though I don't know who or what remains.”

  His voice trailed off as he finished his statement.

  Ramm patted him on the shoulder gently as he hastened to collect the body now lying motionless in the road.

  The village had come to life as the battle ended, the citizens now lined the sides of the buildings, choking the street to the west. The majority stood speechless, eyes wide, eagerly clearing a path as the party moved onward toward the facility. Kaep whispered her thanks as a man with a bow slung over his shoulder tossed her a quiver bristling with arrows. A gathering of brave souls, armed with bows and crude swords followed hesitantly, several steps in their wake.

  Their pace was rapid. Dav did his best to wrap the wounds on Ryl’s hand and side as they moved along the pathway toward the facility. The weeping cuts stung viciously as the Vigil tightened the bandages around his hand and torso. He’d lost a fair amount of blood, yet his determination to see his friends safe overpowered any discomfort he felt.

  Ryl continuously scanned the surrounding areas with his mindsight. For a while there was nothing of note; no movement or sign of the black shapes came from any direction. He gasped in surprise when the first of the faint signs sprung to life in his vision. He stopped in his tracks, concentrating to confirm that what he’d seen wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

  Not far in the distance he could see a gathering of objects, and though faint, each glowed with a dull golden-yellow light. Close to his side, the body of Elias neither glowed nor displayed as a smudge of black on his vision. In his place, only a disconcerting void remained.

  “There are tributes in there,” Ryl gasped. “Not far now.”

  The road ahead curved slightly to the south. Before them, the crumbling spires of the once prominent house stretched into the sky. The mighty castle, the proud seat of House Martrion now looked as if a strong wind would topple it from its peak. Green vines snaked up its exterior as the overgrown grounds surrounding the remains of its magnificent structure had been reclaimed by nature over the cycles.

  The distinct ring of steel on steel and the muted shouts of men floated to his ears in the distance.

  The others heard the din of battle as he did. Together, they surged forward into a sprint, the phrenics easily outpacing the Vigil and the townsmen behind them.

  As they rounded the lazy corner through the trees, the sprawling complex came into view. The peak of a long building stretched into the sky, though the remainder of its body was blocked from view by a wall stretching nearly ten paces in the air. The warehouse complex stood against the backdrop of the hill where the crumbling remains of the seat of House Martrion rested.

  A battle was in full swing along the top of the wall. A body lay crumpled in a heap on the ground, and another lay draped over the edge of the wall, a red stain spreading downward underneath its limp form.

  Andr had made his presence felt among the guard of the facility, yet he was besieged on two sides. He parried and attacked, dodged and defended as the guard sought to strike him down before he reached what Aldren had described as the gate house. The merchant was nowhere in sight.

  They were still nearly thirty meters from the wall. Ryl watched in horror as a glancing blow struck the mercenary’s leg. He immediately fell to a knee as the attackers swarmed over him. He was pummeled with fists and boots while he was violently disarmed and hauled to his feet. The guard behind him held his blade close across his neck.

  “Stop there,” the guard bellowed from above.

  Arrows sprouted from several guards along the top of the walled enclosure. Ryl scanned the area; there was no sign of any Lei Guard present.

  “Take another step and your friend’s head will be all that leaves this wall,” the guard hissed. “The Lei Guard will return soon, and there’ll be reckoning, mark my words.”

  Ryl turned his head, nodding to Ramm. The phrenic gently lay the still figure of Elias on the ground at his feet. The gasp from the guards on the wall was audible.

  Ryl took a step forward. The familiar heat surged through his veins as the anger in his body swelled.

  “The Lei Guard is dead,” Ryl’s voice boomed over the gate. “We have no desire for your lives, but rest assured, if he is harmed further, not one of you will survive this day.”

  He reached his left hand behind his back, whipping a single weapon from its holster. The brilliant green blade burst into flame emphasizing his point. The guards on the wall flinched. Their uncertain eyes darted between their peers.

  “Kaep,” Ryl asked quietly without removing his eyes from the wall. “Think you can make the shot?”

  He heard the creak of her bow as she drew it back to its peak.

  “Aye, Ryl. I won’t miss,” was all she whispered as the arrow screamed through the air.

  The guard holding Andr hadn’t moved a muscle before the arrow buried itself into his skull. He toppled backward, his blade falling from his hand, as he pulled Andr down with him.

  The archers along the wall released their arrows in response, the projectiles trained upon the waiting phrenics. The anger boiled over in Ryl’s veins. The time for his compassion had expired; there would need to be another example made. Time froze bringing a virtual halt to the arrows approach as he darted forward. With a single broad sweep of his right arm, he launched an arc of wind into the incoming bolts. Several snapped in half as the blade of wind sheared through them, fracturing them into pieces. The others were thrown wildly off course, well away from their intended targets.

  “Ramm,” Ryl shouted. “The gate.”

  The massive phrenic charged forward with a speed that defied normal movement. Ryl loped a step behind as Ramm’s hulking frame approached the reinforced wooden gate, his mighty warhammer swinging backward in his grasp.

  With a roar of fury, the phrenic leaped into the air, bringing th
e fury of his massive hammer down onto the helpless gate. The metal head of the weapon connected with the wood in the middle of its height, close to the edge where it was suspended from its metal hinges.

  The impact was deafening. A single panel of the gate buckled inward at the middle, severing the thick support beam behind it. The large wooden door split from its hinges, bending the heavy metal in the process. Free from the wall, the large wooden panel launched into the interior of the complex. Ryl heard the screams as the guards on the other side were tossed helplessly by the slab and splinters of wood.

  Ryl was through the gate before the last piece of wood had struck the ground. The bodies of half a dozen guards tumbled painfully among the shrapnel strewn across the small courtyard. The area behind the wreckage of the gate was narrow, stretching the entire length of the complex.

  There were three buildings inside the gate. A stable sat along the left wall, while the entrance to the main facility was straight ahead. A modest building along the right wall served as the barracks for the guard currently serving the facility. Aldren’s wagon remained motionless in the center of the courtyard, though the merchant was absent.

  Parked along the side of the stable was a black carriage that sent a shiver down his spine. He recalled every moment of his trip inside a similar, sweltering, putrid-smelling cell. The anger swelled in him at the sight.

  To his left, a staircase ran up the exterior of the outer wall. The archers had turned as fast as they could, desperately striving to train their arrows on him. His movements were a blur to their wide eyes. Their attempts, though valiant, were futile.

  Ryl wanted no more bloodshed. This wouldn’t be a fight; this would be a massacre. The thought sickened him.

  He counted fifteen soldiers standing at arms along the wall, seven with bows. All of the archers and all but one of the soldiers stood between him and his friend. Andr struggled to rise. He'd reclaimed his sword, admirably fending off an attack from the single, determined guard that remained between him and the gatehouse.

  Ryl took the steps in two bounds; he ducked and weaved through the line of guards with little regard for their heartfelt attempt to prevent his approach. As he passed, the shimmering green blade of his weapon passed through the taut arms of the bows, scorching the wood as it severed it in half. The now useless pieces of the weapons snapped back. The archer’s arrows careened off at drastic angles, destined to fall harmlessly to the ground.

  He reached his friend’s side as the guard readied for another vicious strike. Andr, still pinned under the limp body of the dead guard was in a hopeless position. One last burst of speed pushed Ryl past the solitary guard to the wall of the gatehouse. Without slowing, he planted both his feet on the stone of the wall, pushing back in the direction he’d come. His body went airborne as he extended his legs toward the back of the unprepared guard.

  As his feet caught the guard in the center of his back, Ryl kicked out with all his might. The unprepared guard careened over Andr, tumbling once before crashing into his companions, who were still bunched along the narrow walkway of the wall. The guard’s sword clanged harmlessly to the ground, sparking as it skipped along the rock.

  Ryl landed on his feet, facing the guards with a menacing look. He let go his hold of the speed. His cloak snapped out before him as the world resumed its normal pace. Outside the wall, Kaep stood like a statue, the Vigil at her side, their bows trained on the wall. Inside, Ramm stood at the base of the stairs, tapping the shaft of his warhammer on his hand. Ryl slowly, purposefully reached his right hand behind his back withdrawing the second half of the Leaves. His lips curled into a wicked snarl that was disturbingly visible from under the shadow of his hood.

  The clang of their swords hitting the stone resounded through the courtyard as the guards wisely abandoned their weapons.

  Chapter 54

  After relinquishing their weapons, the guards were rounded up with ease. The Vigil and the villagers who’d accompanied them stood guard while they hastily tended to their wounded comrades. A brief interrogation of the ranking officer assured them that all guards were accounted for. The facility maintained a single team of seven Lei Guard on permanent reserve and those had left with haste as the phrenics had appeared within the village. Ryl confirmed this with a scan of the area. The guards swore that they would find no resistance within the facility as none other than a team of three menders resided inside.

  Andr winced in pain, limping along at Ryl’s side as they walked with the phrenics toward the entrance to the main facility. Dav had quickly dressed the slash on his leg, and the mercenary expectedly ignored the suggestion to rest. Aldren was still nowhere to be seen, though the guards had reported last seeing the merchant entering the main building.

  Wary of a surprise attack, Ryl cautiously tried the handle of the door, unsurprised to find it locked. He knocked quietly. Only silence returned his call. The exterior of the wide building was constructed entirely of stone, save for the wooden door. No windows broke the monotony of the drab exterior.

  “Ramm,” Ryl said. “The door again, if you please.”

  The phrenic nodded as he stepped forward. His swing was delicate compared to the one that had brought down the previous gate. The pointed hook of the reverse side of the hammer punched through the wooden door. With one fluid motion, he tore the door outward, shaking the wooden slab from his hammer as if it weighed nothing.

  Inside, a long, yet shallow room stretched out to either side. A pair of long tables dominated the space, and an alley between them led to another closed door. The plates on the table still contained scraps of uneaten food, as if a meal had been abruptly disturbed. The smell of food made his mouth water, yet underneath it all, the hint of another potent, disturbing smell tugged at his senses. A quick scan of the area showed the glowing traces of the tributes ahead through the door.

  Their signatures were faint, yet they were close.

  A muted thump from the left drew their attention to the only other door to the room. The group quietly padded toward the closed door, fanning out in preparation for whatever remained inside. Ryl drew one of his blades, nodding to Ramm who stood to the side of the door. A single jerk from the phrenic removed the door from its hinges with a snapping of wood. Ramm discarded the door behind him, toppling a pair of chairs at the table. A muffled gasp came from within.

  “Come out. Now,” Ryl demanded.

  There was a rapid shuffling noise from within. Ryl flinched as a body barreled out from the room’s interior. Aldren’s face showed an expression of relief as he recognized Ryl and the phrenics standing outside.

  “There are three menders in there,” he blurted out. “None are armed with more than kitchen knives.”

  “Come out, now,” Ryl repeated his previous command lacing his word with a feeling of trust. “None will be harmed. There are injuries; your skills are needed outside.”

  After a moment's pause, the first of the menders poked his head around the corner. After a rapid visual inspection, the wiry old man ducked back into the small kitchen. There were brief whispers from within, then silence.

  The solid thump echoed from inside the room. The sharp slap sounded like skin slamming unhindered onto the wooden floor. Ryl rushed through the open door.

  The galley kitchen was short and narrow. Straight through the door a large oven and prep area rested against the wall. To the right the cabinet held the dishes. Racks of dried food and supplies lined the shelves along the back wall. The mender who'd poked his head through the door wobbled erratically on his feet, toppling to the ground as Ryl approached. His hands made no attempt to slow his fall, his face smashing into the ground with a sickening crunch.

  The third, who looked to be the eldest of the bunch rushed to swallow a small vial of clear liquid. He grinned as he downed the tincture.

  “The secrets die with us,” he choked. “You'll never get in. Only the Lei Guard have the key.”

  The mender’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, b
efore blood drenched his face as it seeped from his tear ducts. He collapsed backwards into the shelf, before crashing to the ground in an avalanche of food and supplies.

  A yellow vapor began to rise from their bodies, like steam off boiling water. It was as if the menders were melting from within. Ryl backed away quickly, ushering the rest of his party out before closing the door tightly behind him.

  “We need to seal off this door,” Ryl muttered. “Who knows what manner of devious poison they've ingested. I'd rather not find out.”

  Andr limped back to the table; two uniform coats were draped casually over the backs of their chairs in front of their previous occupant’s half eaten meals. He balled them up, tossing them back to Ryl. The young phrenic grabbed the pitcher of water from the small table alongside the door to the kitchen, dousing the uniforms before wedging them into the crack under the door.

  With the door sealed as best they could, the group turned their attention to the interior door.

  “Don't suppose that body you're dragging around has the keys on him?” Andr asked

  “I'll check,” Kaep offered, running from the room before he could reply.

  Ramm strode confidently to the door tapping it probingly with the butt of his warhammer. The thump was heavy, not the hollow knock you'd expect to hear from a door.

  Kaep rushed back into the room a moment later, shaking her head.

  “We’re not that lucky,” she said.

  In response, Ramm reared back, swinging his hammer, striking the door just below the lock. Again and again he hammered into the side of the door. Chips of stone fell from the walls, and the boards cracked, spreading bit by bit. Perhaps a dozen strikes in, the phrenic roared out of frustration, swinging the hammer one last time.

  There was a colossal snap as the thick iron pin locking the door sheared off in its catch. The panel shot inward, grinding an arc across the floor as its top hinge broke free. Now supported by a single hinge, one final kick tore the door completely from the wall. The panel crashed to the ground with a thunderous sound. Its cross section revealed a plate of metal sandwiched between two thick planks of wood. The thump of its impact with the floor echoed through the open chamber beyond.

 

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