Clash of Catalysts by C. Greenwood

Author:C. Greenwood [Greenwood, C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Published: 2016-12-14T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Orrick

Orrick’s frustration deepened as he left yet another empty cave behind him and stepped back out into the gray light of dusk. This recess between towering rocks had seemed promising but had ended abruptly with a solid wall at the back and no means of burrowing deeper. The only signs of recent habitation were a pile of small animal bones left behind by some bear or other predator. It was another fruitless search.

Peering through the fading light, he could only just make out Ilarion patiently waiting for him at the base of the mound of boulders. Swift though the horse was on even terrain, it couldn’t handle this steep and rocky ground or pass the obstacles Orrick was now forced to scramble over. He had already accepted he would have to leave the animal behind. He only hoped it would still be waiting for him when he returned.

If it bothered him to abandon his mount, he was still more concerned by the waning daylight. Although the gathering premature gloom was going to make it difficult to continue his search, he couldn’t afford to risk stumbling around in the darkness. There were too many unexpected drop-offs among these rocks, where he could fall to his death.

He scowled at the volcano that stood on the distant horizon, showering ash into the air and covering everything in sight with sooty grime. It was those flurries of drifting ash that shadowed the lowering sun and made the very air Orrick breathed nearly as gray as the stones beneath his boots. He couldn’t continue the search much longer under these conditions. It was time to think about finding a place to pass the evening and night and await the slightly brighter light that would come in the morning.

He took a deep drink of clean water from his water skin and silently thanked the old mage who had provided it. He still didn’t understand the risks the stranger back in Jarceaux had taken to help him. He was just grateful the crazy old man had thought to pack his horse with the supplies he would need for his brief journey.

Traveling with unnatural speed on the back of the ghost horse, it had taken Orrick only two days to cross the Lythnian kingdom and pass over the border into the wilderness of the Lostlands. But there he had become turned around in the thick vegetation of the dark jungle. Only today did he finally emerge from that nightmarish world of oppressive heat and mysterious animal screams in the night, only to find a worse landscape before him. The scenery of jagged, rocky hills swathed in clouds of ash with the threatening volcano looming on the distance should have made Orrick want to turn back. Instead, he had breathed a sigh of relief at making it to the last leg of his journey.

Or so he had thought at the time. But now, after hours of wandering, he was beginning to fear he was no closer to finding Arik the One-Eyed than he had ever been.

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