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

and curious eyes viewed the group as they plodded steadily forward. The press of the foot traffic broke around them like water around a rock. Ryl still felt no animosity in their stares, only a disconcerting mixture of interest and pity.

Flanking the east and west side of the main avenue were two buildings, their designs virtually identical. Stretching vertically for three stories, the large stone structures were carved with awe inspiring precision. Seemingly every facet of life within Vim featured immaculate design and artistic prowess. The sheer architectural perfection of the buildings before him eclipsed all those he’d examined previously. Though he’d traveled this road once during his failed attempt at rounding the city’s outer loop, his attention at that time was focused on returning to the clinic, not the perfection of the architecture.

Fluted columns engaged the corners of the building with large decorated square blocks extending out past the base of each. Both buildings looked to have been carved from one massive stone, as Ryl could see no gaps or seams where block was stacked atop block. The flawless rock walls were eerily reminiscent of the gigantic stone carving of Taben the Defender that stood at the northernmost point in The Stocks, at the front of the Haven Mountains. Ornate trim work surrounded every window, encased every door and stretched across the building delineating floor from floor. There was a muted sound of hammering coming from inside as they passed.

A massive stone dome capped each building, their smooth rounded surfaces painted with startling realism. The vibrant colors and masterful details of the paintings made the scenes come to life. Ryl blinked his eyes as he craned his neck to admire the artwork.

So engrossed was he in the paintwork, that he failed to notice that the mender and Kaep had stopped in his path. Ryl wandered carelessly into the back of Kaep, knocking her off her feet. He reacted without thought—the world came to a halt, her fall slowed to a crawl as she was suspended in air.

Ryl lunged forward, his right hand carefully but firmly clasping around her cloaked forearm. With a gentle tug, he spun her falling body around onto her heels before pulling her back upright. His opposite hand had grabbed ahold of her exposed tattooed arm.

An unexpected surge of energy jolted through his body, beginning from where his skin touched hers. For a moment, his hand felt as if it was stuck there, his fingers refusing to break their connection with her bare skin. The tattoos on her arm seemed to pulse with life, and his fingers tingled with the unexpected contact. The look on her face was one of surprise; he quickly averted his eyes while struggling with his mind to pry his fingers apart, to break the magnetic connection with her skin.

As his hand severed the contact with her skin, the strange sensation ceased. Ryl gasped for air as he sunk to a knee. The disorienting feeling of the world snapping back to its normal speed sent his head reeling. His stomach turning violently; threatening to empty its contents into the avenue. The inadvertent use of his skills was extraordinarily taxing. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as the spinning subsided.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered between breaths.

“Mind where you’re walking, my young friend,” Brasley chided. “Your balance will return as your recovery progresses. I fear you’re still weak from your ill-advised outing this morning, though I can see how the beauty of our city could be a distraction to those who are unaccustomed to its wonders.”

Mender Brasley offered no indication that he’d witnessed Ryl’s sudden burst of speed. His attention was elsewhere.

“I’ve learned the hard way the error in my judgement,” Ryl confessed, in an attempt to appease the mender. “I’ll heed your words in the future and not rush my recovery. Though I’ll agree there is beauty in this city the likes of which I’ve never seen before.”

The mender smiled and nodded his head in approval of Ryl’s admission. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryl could see the smirk growing on Andr’s face. Kaep bent down in front of him, offering her clothed arm. He was mentally prepared for the sensation as he again clasped his hand around her forearm.

A hint of the tingling was there, yet nowhere near as profound as when his hand had touched her bare skin. Ryl had never experienced that feeling before. Over the cycles he’d come in contact with his fellow tributes, those who shared the same alexen in their blood, yet this energizing and magnetic response was foreign. Aside from the small smile, her face was again unreadable. The surprise he thought she’d shown a moment earlier was washed away by a look of indifference. If she experienced the same sensation, she gave no sign.

“Can you walk?” Mender Brasley inquired.

Ryl nodded his head in response, releasing his hold on Kaep’s arm, taking an awkward step forward. He had difficulty regaining his footing as stumbling forward for a few steps. Andr stepped to his side, intercepting his clumsy gait.

“Let me give you a hand,” the mercenary offered. “Can’t have you hurting yourself again before meeting the Council.”

Ryl fought back his stubborn pride, conceding the need for assistance. With his arm over Andr’s shoulder for support, they continued their path along the outer ring of Vim, albeit at a more sluggish pace.

“What were those buildings?” Ryl asked as they followed Brasley and Kaep.

“Those are home to the artisan’s workshops,” Brasley said, beaming with pride as he turned his head back toward Ryl and Andr. “As long as we have lived here, we have remained ever vigilant in the pursuit and application of education and the finer arts. Unlike the world outside, all here learn to read and write at an early age. In addition, we have remained steadfast in the focus on the finer arts as well.”

Ryl was taken aback by the statement. For a community surviving off the land in an unbearably hostile environment,