Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2) C.J. Aaron (unputdownable books .TXT) 📖

focus was entirely on you. Your sudden collapse caught them off guard. The first lost his head before he could react, and the second went down before it could put up a fight.”

“What of the others?” Ryl asked. Without waiting for an answer, he tried to focus in order to search for their telltale black signatures. It was with great effort that he succeeded in quieting his mind long enough to scan the area. There was no sign of the Horde within his field of inner vision.

“Much like you described the night before, the rest abandoned the area with haste at the first sign of light,” Andr recounted.

More questions rolled through Ryl’s head. Why had the others fled with the rising of the sun? They had to be aware they were facing only two adversaries. That one of them was severely weakened was apparent, yet they had chosen not to overpower Andr once Ryl collapsed. Something felt off about their use of strategy, stealth and their hesitance to overpower their remaining attacker. The Horde of the past would not have faltered. They would have swarmed over them with the full power of their numbers.

“Do you think you can walk?” Andr inquired.

“I think so,” Ryl answered. “Though I’m not sure for how long. The dizziness and hallucinations have been happening with alarming frequency, and now I fear there’s more.”

Ryl lifted his shirt, though his motions were sluggishly apprehensive. Andr sucked in an audible gasp at the first glimpse of his chest. Discolored splotches of bright red welts covered his bare skin. As if on command the burning itch intensified and he dropped the shirt over his riddled skin while he could still control the urge not to claw at it.

“If these foul creatures leave us alone during the day, we need to make up as much ground as possible,” Andr commented. “No offense, but you will not be taking anymore watches alone overnight.”

“You need to sleep though,” Ryl protested.

“We must cover as much ground as we can during the early hours of the day,” Andr continued. “As long as I can catch a few hours of sleep during the afternoon, I can keep up the night watch on my own.”

Ryl thought about arguing, but the effort would have been pointless. Aside from his ability to see the positioning of the Horde using his phrenic powers, he was a liability alone at night. As much as it pained him to admit it, it was a miracle they had survived the previous evening. His actions could have ended in their deaths. If it weren’t for the rapid response of the seasoned mercenary, their journey would have come to a tragic conclusion in an unknown cave in the wastes of the Outlands.

The pair quickly broke camp, thankful to leave the rancid stench of the dead Horde behind. Ryl fought the urge to vomit as they skirted past the corpses. They walked side by side as they made their way sluggishly to the north. Ryl draped his left arm over Andr’s shoulder. The guard held onto his left wrist to hold him aloft when the next dizzy spell robbed him of his footing. Ryl carried the broken remains of the wooden spear in his free hand. The length of the weapon was now reduced to nothing more than a dagger.

The ridge they had found shelter in the previous night continued heading in a northerly direction, though it twisted slightly toward the east as the day progressed. They followed its rocky base for the duration of their day. Frequent bouts of debilitating dizziness brought Ryl to his knees, bringing their progress to a standstill. The lingering fever had resumed shortly after midday, rapidly sapping the remaining energy from his addled body.

A single grove appeared in the distance, their only potential source of water and food for the day. The shelter of the grove appeared tantalizingly close, yet there was no way the pair would make it before nightfall. They needed to stop for Andr to rest before taking the long night’s watch. They had exhausted their inadequate rations of carrots the night before and the water was running dangerously low. Ryl had finished his water early in the day, Andr had taken only sips of his since, donating the rest to his ailing companion.

Their home for the night was a long, narrow cavern at the base of the ridge. They burned precious time for Andr to rest as the mercenary crafted a fire and makeshift torch to illuminate the cave’s interior; ensuring they were the only creatures inside. Ryl’s command of the phrenic mindsight became an ongoing struggle as the sickness progressed. The visions came to life with an uncontrolled spontaneity throughout the day.

Andr lay down to rest after the careful inspection of their cavern. The sun had a few hours before it dipped under the horizon yet the shadows on the eastern side of the ridge were stretching out long across the desolate landscape. The light would abandon them before long. Would the Horde return with greater numbers? Would Ryl be able to assist if they did?

The crevice they sheltered in featured a narrow opening. Andr could back his way inside, negating their numbers, forcing them to fight him one at a time. Ryl realized that he’d never seen him handle his sword in combat. The warm-up exercise, while impressive, was assuredly nothing like the real thing. The brief lesson was nothing more than a watered-down overview, one that would in most situations be taught to a child.

Ryl had positioned himself with his back against a small rock, just inside the mouth of the cave. His head still throbbed from the blow he’d taken the night before and the burning rash that covered his chest had spread out from his torso, wrapping around his back, stretching down his arms and legs. It was with difficulty that he fought the urge to scratch. He tried to call on the woodskin, yet he failed to maintain the