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

from the ground. Andr pointed toward the closest one, set adjacent to a small ridge.

“We'll head for that copse of trees,” the guard announced. “We've been hiking for a better portion of the day, we need to find more food, water and shelter. There's no telling what night will bring.”

Andr shook his water skin, it was more than halfway empty. Ryl didn't need to lift his, he knew his was worse off.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Ryl responded, trying to keep the growing anxiety of his thoughts from seeping into his voice.

With a nod of his head, Andr started down the ridge toward the distant clump of trees. The path between their location and the small grove was far less populated with the thorny bushes allowing the pair to make good time over the uneven terrain.

Their conversations were sporadic. They spoke little, moving primarily in silence, both seemingly lost in thought. Ryl realized that although Andr had helped him, saving his life on multiple occasions, he knew next to nothing about his traveling companion.

Andr's eyes never stopped scanning the horizon for any signs of life. They’d seen several long-eared hare dart through the underbrush and smaller rodents that scurried from their path, yet no sign of anything larger. The surrounding landscape was eerily quiet.

They reached the ridge and the small grove of stunted trees as the sun was making its descent to the west. Ryl admired the brilliant hues of reds and purples that stretched across the sky. For only the second time in nearly half of his short life, he enjoyed the view of the setting sun unobstructed by the dismal grey rock of the palisades stretching into the sky.

Andr circled back, stopping and placing his hand on Ryl's shoulder.

“Never could quite get used to the lack of natural sunrises or sunsets in The Stocks,” Andr said woefully. “Just wasn’t the same with those damn walls in the way.”

Ryl grunted in acknowledgement. Of all the questions that had been racing through his head since they landed on the shores of the Outlands, there was one that had plagued him incessantly.

“Andr?” Ryl asked with genuine curiosity. “How did you know about the phrenic?”

Andr brought his hand to face, rubbing the day-old stubble on his chin. He paused for a long moment in thought before responding.

“Truth be told, Ryl, it’s not something I understand myself,” Andr replied. He seemed distant, perplexed. “I've experienced more unexpected … more unbelievable happenings in the short time I've known you. My mind is still coming to terms.”

He turned to face Ryl.

“After I pulled you from the pool, I feared you were dead,” the mercenary reminisced. “The moments stretched for an eternity before you cleared the icy water from your lungs.”

His eyes wandered the horizon as the last sliver of sun disappeared below the land to the west.

“I pushed that horse hard out of Tabenville,” Andr said. “I've crossed the path through the Erlyn dozens of times, I know its twists and turns better than most. The path I rode on that night was foreign to me.”

Ryl turned to look at the guard in disbelief as he continued his tale.

“All the familiar landmarks were there, yet the road seemed to run straight as an arrow,” Andr said in disbelief. “There was an abnormal breeze through the forest that evening. It blew into the side of my face, like it was coming from the forest itself. There was a voice on the wind, I could feel it in my mind, repeating the same words over and over. Take him to the phrenic. Take him to the phrenic.”

Ryl was speechless. He stared unblinking at his companion. The Erlyn had come to his aid again. The forest had trusted Andr with the knowledge of the name erased from recorded history.

Andr broke the stillness of the moment.

“We can discuss this later,” he said. “We'll be out of light soon. Come.”

Chapter 2

The pair hurried down from the peak of the small ridge into the stunted grove at its base. The trees twisted and turned in random directions as they snaked their way to nowhere in particular. Their gnarled branches sprouted thin sprigs covered in sharp, withered looking, rust colored miniature leaves. The modest copse encompassed an area perhaps fifty meters in diameter.

Andr took the lead as they cautiously entered the grove. The interior was still, the snaking branches obstructing the lines of sight through the trees. Ryl jumped as the mercenary bellowed an abrupt laugh.

“What is it?” Ryl asked, startled by the sudden reaction from the guard.

“See for yourself,” Andr said grinning, pointing toward the ground ahead.

Along the edge of the near vertical incline of the ridge, a spring bubbled up from the ground. The water pulsed out from under the rock before it trickled downhill, collecting in a small, round divot in the earth. The tiny pool was nothing more than a small puddle, the water tinted by the reddish soil underneath.

“Well, that solves one problem,” Ryl added. “Do you think it's safe to drink?”

Andr kneeled before the pool, cupping his hands together, collecting a sample of the clear liquid. He smelled the water before raising it to his lips for a sip. He rocked back on his heels as he swished it around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.

“It’s surprisingly cold,” he said. “Tastes clean. We should be fine to fill up here.”

He stood, tossing his water skin to Ryl.

“Fill these up then look along the ridgeline for any small caves we can use as a shelter,” Andr ordered. “I'd rather not chance the night out in the open if we can help it. I'll set some traps and see if we can catch us some food.”

Ryl wasted no time filling their empty water skins, taking several extra swigs from the clear spring. Tucking the refilled skins into his pack he made his way along the uneven face of the ridge in search of shelter. Meters from its end, Ryl stumbled across what