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

were there for blood. I can handle a sword, yet I admit it would have been a hopeless battle. If not for him.”

Andr motioned to the still form of Ryl.

“He hadn’t been lucid once all day,” Andr added, as the reality of what had occurred sank in. He continued his own story in disbelief. “Their attack was imminent; you could feel their anticipation in the air. A moment later a sound erupted from him, a sound nothing like I’ve ever heard before. Nothing like I’d ever want to hear again.”

“The cries of the fallen,” Vox said reverently.

The three others nodded their heads in approval.

“Please carry on,” Vox said politely.

“I turned my head and Ryl was standing behind me,” Andr continued. “He’d been too dizzy to stand for days, yet there was no waver to his step. He tore through them like a whirlwind of death. It was over in a blink of the eye. Your attack was fast, his was like lightning. When the destruction was over he stopped in front of me. I watched the fire and the fight retreat from his eyes. The glowing blades in his hands vanished and he collapsed. The next attack came shortly after. You know the rest.”

The four cloaked warriors shared a look between themselves, though they said not a word. The silence in the clearing stretched on. Andr looked from shadowed face to shadowed face.

“The weapons he used; do you still have them?” Vox asked curiously.

“Yes,” Andr said, reaching into his pack, withdrawing the innocuous sticks. “They’re here. He made the bracers he still wears to keep them at hand. Never explained that they could do this. He never explained that he could do what he did either.”

“It’s no wonder he didn’t. May I?” the nameless, faceless archer asked, reaching for the sticks.

Andr eyed her skeptically for a moment.

“If we wanted to take them from you, we could,” she stated bluntly. “If we meant you harm, we’d have left you to the Horde. You’d already be dead. We’ve been expecting you. Just not so soon.”

Andr tilted his head to the side, regarding her curiously at the statement. Who knew of their passage?

“I promise to return them,” she continued, unfazed by the look. “At the present, you have no choice but to trust us.”

Andr acknowledged the painful logic in her voice. There was nothing he could hope to do in the face of such terrific strength and speed. Without Ryl, he doubted his sword would clear its sheath before they would react. Begrudgingly he reached out, handing the sticks to the faceless archer.

Vox moved a step closer as she carefully passed the weapons to the curious warrior. He examined the plain wooden sticks, scrutinizing their every detail as he turned them over in his hands.

“If I’m not mistaken, I recognize these,” Vox whispered. “Relics from a time long since passed. No one’s seen these in over a thousand cycles. They have stories to tell, of that I’m certain.”

He delicately handed the Leaves back to Andr before stepping back, taking his place behind the archer. Andr nodded in thanks.

“Thank you,” Andr said emphatically. “Yet, it’s hard to trust someone who refused to show their face.”

The four froze, their shadowed faces focused on him. He could feel their icy glares staring down at him.

“Tell me then, friend,” she said, echoing the same forceful approach Andr had taken. “What is it you were looking to find out here past the boundaries of civilization?”

“We were sent here,” Andr stated. “We were sent to find the phrenic.”

The group standing over him exchanged glances again. The nameless archer took a step closer.

“Phrenic. That’s not a name we’re used to hearing, especially from an outsider,” she spoke softly, reaching her hands up, slowly removing the hood from her face. “Well, the Phrenic you have found, my friend.”

Chapter 20

The first thing that struck Andr was how young she looked. Shoulder-length brown hair tumbled out from under the hood as she pulled the cloth back from over her face. Her flawless skin still showed the innocence of youth. Her thin lips turned up into a slight grin. A pleasant smile and gentle features belied the incomprehensible lethality disguised beneath.

There was the rustling sound of leaves from the forest at the edge of the clearing. Three cloaked warriors emerged from the tree line. A single sleeve was missing from each of their cloaks; the moonlight illuminated their bared, tattoo covered arm. Two carried longbows over their shoulders, quivers now empty—the third they supported between them.

All heads turned in their direction as they entered the clearing.

“Is he alright?” the archer inquired. “Where's your fourth?”

Deyalou and Vox hurried to assist the approaching group.

“Aye, he'll be fine,” spoke the warrior on the right of the newly arriving group. “He pushed too hard, just needs rest. Ghen’s fine too. She stayed behind in case any of the Horde tries to enter the woods.”

They laid their companion down on the ground a few paces from Ryl. He appeared to be in a deep, peaceful sleep, Andr could see the rise and fall of his chest through the cloak that covered his body. The hood still hid his face from view.

“Quite the group you riled up tonight, Kaep,” he said as he pulled the hood back over his head.

Again, Andr was met with a face much younger than he'd expected. The young man couldn't have been much older than Ryl. He shook hands and embraced the four gathered around Andr and Ryl.

“Don't thank us,” Kaep said. “It was the boy they were chasing. He fended off a scout of forty before we arrived. We fell upon nearly two hundred. A bane was at the lead, Paelec.”

Paelec, the new archer to arrive, let out a low whistle in surprise.

“How many tailed us to the woods?” Kaep continued.

“Too many to count. Thousands. More than I’ve seen in a lifetime,” Paelec admitted.

“I’ve never heard of numbers that high,” Kaep interjected. “You got here just in time. Thank you.