There was horror. There was revulsion.
Ryl watched as the latter bubbled up from within the young man’s core. His body doubled over as the meager contents of his stomach splattered across the floor.
The Leaves’ translucent blades faded into dormancy.
The hallway plunged into darkness. Streaks of glowing green slashes along the wall narrated the errand strokes of the burning blades in close quarters. The scars flickered like sparks before extinguishing. Some naturally, others due to the torrent of blood that dripped from the stone walls.
Ryl stowed the Leaves in the holsters. What had he done? He had lost himself in the overwhelming desire to destroy those who had assailed them. He shook as he realized how terrifying he must have appeared. Though they had nearly ended Aelin’s life, this was no battle. This was a massacre.
He had slaughtered these men.
His morose thoughts took a moment of effort to clear. He hastened toward the retching tribute at the hallway’s end. In the dim light it was difficult to navigate over the carnage that he’d wrought. His heel came down on something soft. The crunching of bones echoed through the confined chamber like thunder. Aelin hastened from the doorway. Ryl vaulted the remaining bodies in pursuit of his friend.
As he exited the chamber, the freshness of the air was the first to assault his senses. He’d grown startlingly accustomed to the stench of death and the thick iron tang of blood in the hallway, though it had been only a matter of moments. Flavored by only the acrid smell of smoke, the air in the gatehouse was cleansing.
At first glance, Aelin was nowhere to be seen. Ryl’s heart raced as he lost sight of the boy. His mindsight kicked in without warning as he broke from the tunnel.
In the far corner of the chamber, hidden in the shadows in the corner of the walls, was a familiar glowing signature.
Ryl slowed as he walked calmly toward the boy. There was no emotion he could project that Aelin wouldn’t reject as an attempt to sway his attitude. He knelt a step before his friend.
“Aelin, were you hurt by the arrow?” Ryl asked delicately.
The young tribute was scrunched in the corner. His knees were pulled in close, crushed against his chest by his arms. His face was buried in the crook of an elbow. His body quaked with sobs though he struggled to keep them at bay.
He shook his head though he refused to raise his face.
“That is good,” Ryl responded. A momentary flash of anger rose, though he subdued it before he continued. This was the reason he had wanted to pursue Elias and Kaep alone.
“I’m neither proud nor happy about what I’ve done,” he began. “Whether it’s a beast or man, killing is never easy. It’s messy. It leaves stains that will never fade. I still feel them all. You know this as well as any.”
Ryl spun, resting his back against the wall. He slid down into a seated position next to the boy.
“Understand that they would have killed you,” Ryl continued. “That arrow was meant for your heart. They would have given no quarter, and we have no time to waste.”
Aelin’s sobbing ceased. He raised his head from his arms though his gaze was still distant, focused on nothing in particular on the opposite wall.
“I should have stayed behind. I should have helped the others.” His voice was weak. It wavered as he struggled to hold the tears in check. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know why I thought I could help.”
Ryl smiled at the youngster. He couldn’t chide him now, though he refused to argue that his presence wasn’t an added burden. The unexpected added company was a pleasant change from the solitude. In a way, it saved him.
Saved him from getting lost in his thoughts.
It had just saved him from losing himself in the vicious darkness that had propelled him to cause such wanton destruction.
“I’m glad to have your company, Aelin,” Ryl admitted. “We need to keep moving. Elias is close. I can feel him. It’s as if he’s been toying with us all along, staying a few steps ahead. We need to catch them. We need to find Kaep.”
Aelin sniffled as he whimpered. The sound was as close to words as his shattered spirit could muster. He nodded his head in agreement. Ryl reached out, jostling his hair with his hand as he stood.
“I need to have a look inside the barracks.” Ryl spoke quietly. “The disguises we need should be readily available. If any remained to pursue their companions, they’d likely have done so by now.”
Ryl peered into the open doorway. The interior was now pitch black. He was thankful for that. No light from a torch emanated from its midst. No sounds issued from the graveyard inside.
“I will not ask you to follow me,” he said. “I need you to stay safe. Stick close to the door. Scream if any other than I approaches. I’ll hear you. I can’t risk having to rescue you as well.”
“How will I know it’s you returning and not the guard?” Aelin’s question was an important one.
Ryl smiled as he forced out a wave of emotion over the child. Hope lit in Aelin’s eyes as he glanced at him in wonder.
“None will recreate that feeling. You’ll know it’s me,” he said as he focused a wave of that same emotion over the trembling boy. “Stay in the shadows close to the door. I’ll return shortly.”
Ryl helped Aelin to his feet before leading him across the dirt expanse of the interior. With a smile and a nod of his head, he deposited the boy to the side of the door, deep in the shadows that remained along the wall.
He steeled himself as he stepped into the open doorway. The glowing slashes on the walls had cooled or had been extinguished, leaving the narrow tunnel in complete darkness. The stench was revolting, threatening to turn his stomach as it
