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

accepted the reality that the Horde that assailed them were merely toying with him. What were they waiting for?

The night ended with no appreciable change in Ryl's condition. Andr nursed him into taking a few sips of water, yet he retched up most attempts. The bone chilling noises from the Horde had ceased with the coming of the morning light. The sun was a welcomed sight as the light of its rays stretched into their cave.

Andr cautiously stepped from their small shelter, stretching out his arms. A black shape darted behind a rock a hundred paces to his front. The seasoned veteran scanned the landscape, turning quickly to cover all directions. Hallucinations were well known effects of extended periods without sleep. Was he feeling the effects already?

Turning to his rear, he witnessed another dark figure as it slipped behind the crest of the hill.

These were no hallucinations.

Andr loaded Ryl into the makeshift sled with haste. The woods were nearly within his grasp. The mountains that had looked so impossibly far, that had never seemed to get any closer, now appeared within reach.

Onward he forged toward the mountains and the growing green line of the forest on the horizon. He glimpsed scattered views of the Horde to either side as they progressed further north, closing the distance between themselves and the woods. They remained at a distance, taunting them from their wings.

As the day progressed, the sightings of their blackened forms steadily increased. As they approached the forest, their behavior became more frantic. The calls and screams began to intensify, swelling into an agitated racket. He’d counted at least four lanky shadows moving along with them, flanking them from both sides.

The setting sun was falling rapidly through the sky to the west as Andr approached the welcome embrace of the forest. The Horde that had tracked them at his flanks had peeled off, melting back into the landscape, although their cries resounded in the distance. A little more than a mile spanned the gap between them and the leafy green trees of the woods. The shelter of the living forest called to him, urging them forward.

Andr cursed as the group of the Horde crept out from behind the lone cairn standing between them and the forest. The group numbered six in total.

He felt the knot in his stomach as he lurched to a stop. Andr had seen their speed; seen their devastating, natural weaponry close up. There was no way he'd survive open combat with a group that size alone. Their numbers and agility would cut him down in a heartbeat.

With his path forward blocked, he paused, glaring at the deadly obstruction in his path. There was something odd about their actions. The movements of the Horde had become frantic, yet still seemed planned. Their heads turned rapidly to survey the forest behind, as if they were leery of what lurked under the shadows of the trees. Their behavior spoke to a nervous expectation. What in the forest could cause this attitude?

Andr looked in both directions. To the east, the landscape was flat; there were no ridges to find shelter within. To the west lay a large section of trees, cut off from the green of the forest by a mile of open terrain.

The reddish orange trees were less stunted here than in the staggered copses they'd relied on to this point. The grove appeared as if it had been severed from the forest to the north, left to wither in the poisoned air of the Outlands.

Andr quickly changed direction, moving for the stunted trees. The group blocking their path to the forest trailed in their wake, cutting off their access to the woods. He pushed forward with all his might. They would need to find some shelter inside the trees to hole up for the night.

If not shelter, he’d need to find some means of defense, some means of evening the odds. Even if only by a fraction.

Ryl moaned as they bounced over a rock.

“I'm sorry, Ryl,” Andr responded. “Looks like we've got a long night ahead of us.”

There was no reply.

Chapter 12

Andr abandoned the travois at the edge of the grove, gathering his pack, and slinging Ryl over his shoulder. The Horde that trailed them had remained between them and the woods that cloaked the foot of the mountain. They’d grown silent, yet still regarded the green forest with frequent suspicion.

The grove the pair entered was healthier than any of the previous. The trees were straighter with greater space between their solid trunks, though their branches clogged the paths between. They were taller than their stunted counterparts. Their tops stretched far higher into the sky.

From outside the Horde resumed their chilling calls.

Andr wasted no time moving deeper into the grove, cautiously weaving around the trunks. His eyes scanned through the trees, anticipating an attack to come from outside or an ambush from within. The waning light from the sun cast the grove in deep shadows, imparting an ominous feeling.

Toward the middle of the grove Andr stumbled into a large clearing. One side of the opening bordered a massive rock that stretched nearly as high as the tree-tops, some fifteen meters into the sky. In several locations the exterior of the rock was split by great vertical cracks. The surface was rough to the touch, covered in rust colored lichen. The rock face angled inward from either side coming to an indented point near the center of the stone.

Toward the middle, a narrow seam tore into the rock running the entire height of its face. At the ground level, the opening was large enough to prop Ryl into a sitting position. There would be no shelter in the relative safety of a cave tonight. With their backs against the rock, he'd succeeded in narrowing the avenue of attack down to three sides.

They were nearly out of daylight; the inky depths of darkness would soon be upon them. With the darkness would come the Horde. They had