Ghosts of the Erlyn (Catalyst Book 3) C.J. Aaron (mobi reader .txt) 📖

in her chair, and her smile grew wider. He cringed in discomfort as her appraising eyes roved over the entirety of his body, stopping on the bloodied bandage on his neck.

“He's young, Andr,” she paused mid-sentence. Ryl watched the expression on her face shift as her words triggered an uncertain memory.

“Could it be?” She gasped.

“No, Breila,” Andr said shaking his head. “I'm afraid that part of the story contains the truth. Cray tested positive for alexen. His mother gave him up while I was away.”

She leaned forward, reaching out her hand, placing it delicately on top of Andr's.

“I'm sorry, my old friend,” she lamented as she squeezed his hand. “It's curious timing for your arrival. Or should I say, rise from the dead? His Harvest wouldn't be in a matter of days, would it?”

“No, his won't be for several cycles,” Andr spat at the thought.

A knock on the door heralded the return of the bouncer with food and wine. Ryl quickly replaced the hood over his face as Breila beckoned the man into her quarters.

The bouncer entered with a server in tow, a large silver platter balanced carefully on his hand. Steam wafted off plates laden with heaped portions of food. Breila was served first, with food then wine, followed by Andr and Ryl. She lifted the crystal goblet in front of her gently, swirling the deep red wine before inhaling the appealing aromas. She took an approving sip before leaning her head back with a visible sigh. With her endorsing smile, the bouncer and server nodded, leaving the large tankard of wine on the table politely before hastening from the room. Ryl again removed his hood once the click of the latch signaled their exit.

“Though I'm overjoyed to see you alive and well, the timing of your reappearance and your company is peculiar,” she stated. “I must admit that my curiosity is piqued. I'm eager to hear the telling, for knowing you, the story will be interesting."

Andr chuckled as he raised the wine to his lips, taking a liberal sip. Ryl indulged in a small sip of the red liquor, letting the mild burn of the alcohol warm his insides.

“And the story is unusual. Even for my standards,” Andr admitted with a grin.

His face quickly changed back to a stern seriousness.

“Though I'm sorry that there are details that I cannot elaborate on,” he added.

Breila leaned back into the soft back of her chair, her smile warm. Her face shone with an uncompromising understanding.

“Andr, has it been so long, that you've forgotten the commitment that we share?” Her voice was calm and unassuming. “Our secrets will accompany us to the grave. Yet your discretion is neither unwarranted nor requires apology.”

The mercenary seemed disarmed by the statement. Ryl’s steadfast defender—who in the history of their friendship had remained in a state of perpetual alertness—seemed to let his guard slip. What secrets did these two share?

With a deep breath, Andr embarked on an abbreviated tale of the life he'd lived since his disappearance many cycles earlier. Between bites of the delectable fare, he recounted the abridged tale of his wife's ultimate betrayal. After Cray was condemned to The Stocks she had abandoned their relatively simple life. Her station was raised; she willingly embraced the decadence of her child's sponsor. While his wife enjoyed her life of excess, his had revolved around the bottle. All the alcohol that he could consume did little to quench the burning agony of loss that seethed inside him.

He told of his disgruntled service in the guard and his employ with an unnamed lord. His current assignment had taken him to the end of the world and back. Andr omitted all references to The Stocks and Lord Eligar. Thankfully the phrenics, Vim, and the Outlands were removed as well.

Breila had sat attentively listening throughout Andr's recounting of the last several cycles of activity. She interrupted politely on a few occasions, seeking clarity on a few points. Her questioning was genuine, her words kind. Ryl felt no indication that she was probing for the sensitive information that the mercenary had omitted. Though she knew there was far more to the story, she accepted the answers given without complaint.

They had all picked away casually at their food, and by the end of the tale, their plates were still half full. Ryl took a small bite of the flavorful, roasted white meat. Though nearly cold, the meat was juicy and tender. He washed it down with a small sip of the surprisingly refreshing wine.

“So, is your current assignment here within our fine city?” Breila asked at the conclusion of his story.

“Cadsae Proper is a stopping point, yet our destination lies elsewhere,” Andr replied cryptically.

Breila took another large sip of her wine, finishing her glass. She stood, liberally refilling hers from the tankard on the table. She circled behind them, topping off both of their goblets, before returning to her seat. She swirled the glass in her hand, gazing into the spinning liquid for a moment. When her head rose, her eyes fell not on Andr, but upon Ryl.

“And what purpose does your young friend serve in all of this?” She inquired. “That he accompanies you on the current task for your mysterious lord, I understand. He hasn't the look of a sell sword. And by that, I mean no offense.”

“I assure you, none was taken,” Ryl replied politely.

“In truth, it is I who am in the service of our young friend,” Andr admitted. “Innocent as he may look, I assure you he is more than capable.”

Breila’s eyebrows raised slightly at the comment. Her eyes studied Ryl for a few moments.

“Well, Ryl, if Andr vouches for you, then my doors will be open for you,” she said with a smile. “What is it you need from me? As flattered as I would be, I know the visit isn't purely social in nature.”

“Unfortunately, it isn't. Though it is truly a wonder to see you again,” Andr replied honestly. “Our needs are few. We