Le’Dral’s eyes hovered on the space where the pathway had been only moments earlier. It was with a profound sense of wonderment that his vision traced the perimeter of their arboreal safe house. For a moment, the look written across his face displayed a childlike giddiness as he marveled at the mysteries that surrounded them.
The soft padding of Ramm’s feet on the ground was all the audible notice the phrenic deemed necessary. His abrupt departure signaled his part in the conversation had concluded. He moved with purpose toward the opening of the great tree that Mender Jeffers called his office.
The rare display of emotion from the captain had blanched as his gaze fell again on Andr.
“Blast. Are they all as stubborn as Ryl?” His rhetorical question elicited a grin from the hardened mercenary.
“Aye, they can be an independent bunch,” Andr replied. “You have to understand, they are not accustomed to taking orders from those not initiated to their order. There were but seventeen phrenics alive when we set out from Vim. Their sword master, Deyalou, was killed along the way. With Kaep’s fate now uncertain, the loss cannot be understated.”
Le’Dral seemed to be moved by the words as the harsh truth of the statement weighed on him.
“In all honesty,” Andr continued, “you should be thankful that Ryl was able to convince Ramm and Vox to remain behind. They understand that Ryl is the best hope for her now. I fear the consequences if she is not returned alive. They may raze the kingdom themselves.”
Andr didn’t understate the consequences if Kaep’s life was lost. They had left on the quest to free the tributes and, by doing so, potentially add hundreds of phrenics to the fold. The loss of a second phrenic could rightly spell certain doom for the kingdom. The pair was more than capable of bringing down the palisades. They could just as easily let the armies of the Horde through as the price of the loss of phrenic blood.
The kingdom would doom itself. There would be no assistance from Vim at that point.
“What of the boy who’s gone missing?” Le’Dral inquired. “Are we sure that the Lei Guard doesn’t lie in wait, picking us off one at a time while we grow complacent under a false sense of security?”
Andr shook his head adamantly at the insinuation.
“On this, I trust Ryl wholly,” the mercenary argued. “And as confusing as the feelings are, I trust my own intuition on the matter as well. The Erlyn would know if the imposter or the phrenic remained in her midst. She has been fooled once. It is not a mistake she will repeat.”
Andr could tell Le’Dral was skeptical of the answer, yet he pressed on.
“I can’t rightfully explain the answers that are whispered to me from the forest. I know things, without evidence, just because they are.” As Andr spoke, he ran his hand subconsciously through his hair. “The Erlyn and Ryl have given me no reason to doubt. All I’ve seen and experienced, though unbelievable as they usually are, have been true. If she or Ryl says the woods are clear, they are.”
Le’Dral seemed to chew on the statement for a few moments as he contemplated his response.
“As for the missing tribute, it’s one of the newcomers from this last cycle. A boy named Aelin,” Andr replied.
“The blacksmith’s apprentice?” Le’Dral questioned. A curious look crossed his face. One that spoke more to annoyance than surprise. “Why would Ryl have taken him along?”
Andr chuckled at the observation.
“Aye. That is the one,” Andr acknowledged. “Stubborn as Ryl, as I hear. Though he left of his own accord, Ryl was alone when he departed.”
Anger seeped into the captain’s eyes at the unintended admission of guilt. Andr carried on before the captain could open his mouth.
“According to Jeffers, Aelin and the youngest amongst the tributes were well on their way to recovery,” Andr added. “Some have been on their feet for hours. They’ve only been forced to endure moons of the treatment. The remedy has cleared the blight with ease. As for his whereabouts, I know now. I searched the woods for his signs. I’m confident that he’s no longer under her limbs.”
“Then where?” Le’Dral inquired.
“He’s gone after Ryl, I assume,” the mercenary replied. “They were close from the start. I know not how or why, but my guess is he followed him.”
Le’Dral shook his head, clenching his fists in aggravation.
“Then what is it you would have us do?” Le’Dral quizzed.
Andr shrugged at the weight that was placed on his shoulders. Ryl had commanded the authority, and rightly so deserved it, though neither coveted nor was obsessed about it. He knew it was a weight, a responsibility, a burden that came with his station though he would never openly complain about the duty. With Ryl absent, the unfortunate recipient of the deference was Andr. The mercenary preferred anonymity to the gravity of culpability.
“Trust,” Andr replied. “Trust in Ryl. Trust in the Erlyn. They’ve guided us to safety so far. The tributes need time to recover. We are safe here in her midst.”
A thought flashed into Andr’s head.
“Come with me, Captain,” Andr ordered. “While we wait, let us go see about a way out of here.”
Chapter 27
Ryl whipped his head around at the shuffling noise of footsteps from behind. His chest heaved with the rapid yet deep breaths. His body trembled with pent-up aggression. He resisted the urge to propel himself down the hall. To strike down the next who stood to oppose him.
The foreign whisper that called for blood earlier now screamed in his ear. It demanded carnage. The wreckage of life in the hall before him had not satiated its appetite for carnage.
It demanded more.
Aelin stood silhouetted in the doorway leading to the interior of the gate. The glowing green light of the Leaves danced across his face, illuminating
