The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4)

by Garrett Robinson

  “So these Shades you were hunting,” said Dryleaf. “They used darkfire to heat the cauldron. To … to boil the blood.”

  “But for what purpose?” I said.

  “The vampire,” said Dryleaf. “It must have been. The feeling in this place … the smell. Mayhap that is what summoned the vampire. I was right all along, though I wish I had not been. The Shades did bring the creature. But why? What did they hope to gain?”

  “Some sort of weapon,” said Mag.

  I looked up in surprise. She was across the room, standing by one of the desks that lined the walls, and she had a stack of papers in her hand through which she was riffling. “These mention the vampire. The cauldron appears to be part of some ritual to summon it—to unleash it on the Shades’ enemies. Using a magestone fire infuses the blood with the stones’ essence. It increases the strength of it, gives it some sort of … magical property. I am not certain. There are many things written here I do not understand. But that is what brought the vampire out of the mountains, if indeed that is where it came from.”

  That was a thought so dark, I was stunned to silence for a moment, and Dryleaf seemed to feel the same way. Only Mag still moved or made a noise, flipping through more and more of the papers.

  “I do not understand,” I said in a hushed voice. “A vampire cannot be controlled. But even if you could set it loose in a town and unleash it, it is … well, it is still just a creature. If we had not arrived to kill it, the people of Lan Shui would have done so in time. They would have gotten word to the Mystics eventually. And if the Shades mean to use this as a weapon of war, it is an even worse idea. In a large city, one worth conquering, there would be many guards and constables, and even Mystics, to hunt it. That is what happens whenever a vampire is desperate enough to attack a city by its own choice. That is why they prey on the weak and the isolated.”

  “There is more,” said Mag, scanning a page. “Something about … empowering the vampires. Strengthening them. I cannot entirely understand, but it seems they had some scheme for making the beasts even more fearsome.”

  “The beast, you mean,” I said. “Only one.”

  Mag stopped short. “I suppose you are right,” she said. “Though … though they speak of more than one in these pages.”

  I felt a sensation like ice sliding down my throat and into my gut.

  “Mag,” I said, my voice coming as a whisper. “How far would this ritual reach? How close would a vampire have to be for the magic to draw it in?”

  “Sky above,” said Dryleaf. But Mag only stared at me. My words were still working their way through her mind.

  “Mag,” I said again.

  “It says … it says many leagues,” she told me.

  I felt the blood drain from my face. “Lan Shui stands at the feet of the Greatrocks. There is nowhere in Dorsea, and few places in all of Underrealm, where vampires can be found in greater numbers.”

  “But … but vampires never work together,” said Mag. “You both said so.”

  “That is what the stories say,” muttered Dryleaf. “But you should know better than to believe every story you hear, child.”

  And then in the town above us, the screaming began.

  “Leave me here!” said Dryleaf. “Close the chamber door while you go and help the town.”

  “We cannot,” I said. “They are coming for this place. You are in danger while you remain here. Come, we will hide you upstairs.”

  We hurried him up to the second floor and made him lock himself in a bedroom. Then Mag and I burst out of the house’s front door. In the open air, we could finally place the direction of the screams—north. We flew that way, our boots slapping on the cobblestone streets.

  A pallid, hissing form leaped out of the night.

  I skidded to a halt, but the vampire had not been attacking me. It fell instead upon a man I had not seen, who had been cowering in a doorway. The man’s scream was abruptly cut off as claws sank into his neck, and the vampire bit hard into his throat with its needle teeth.

  “No!” cried Mag, flinging herself at the creature. But the vampire, having already taken deep gulps of the man’s blood, chittered and fled. It leaped straight up an impossible height, landing on a roof above and vanishing from sight.

  I fell to my knees beside the man and threw off my coat. I bunched it up and pressed it to the gaping wound in his neck. He sputtered and gasped, but each desperate attempt at breath only sent a new gush of red cascading down his shirt.

  “Mag!” I cried.

  “Coming.” She ran to me.

  “No!” I said. “Go find them. Kill them. Drive them off from the town. I will do what I can for the people. You are the only one who can face the creatures.”

  She stared down at me, face white as a sheet, eyes filled with fear for me. And then, even as I watched, the mask came down. The life died in her eyes, and her expression went slack.

  Without a word, she turned and ran off into the night.

  In mountain lion form, Kaita lurked on a rooftop above me. From her perch, she could see me and Oku battling against another vampire that had come swooping at us. We were hard pressed without Mag there—I fought with a sword in one hand and an arrow in the other, trying to drive the wooden shaft into the creature. Oku snapped and snarled whenever the vampire pressed me too hard, driving it back for only a moment at a time.

  At last the vampire decided it had had enough and fled to search for easier prey. It leaped up on the rooftop where Kaita lurked. She ducked back just in time, her black fur melding with the night sky so that I did not see her.

  The vampire landed several paces away on the rooftop. It stopped short and turned to her, sniffing. Kaita met its gaze and growled, the deep, rumbling sound shaking the shingles beneath them both.

  The vampire sniffed harder and recoiled. Why feast on a mountain cat when there were so many delicious humans nearby? It knew the taste of lion well enough, and it much preferred two-legged prey. It stalked off into the darkness.

  Kaita snorted. Then she turned to the corpse lying at her feet. Pantu. The boy’s bulging eyes were pointed up towards the moons.

  Kaita seized his leg in her wide muzzle. She threw him over the edge of the roof, listening as he landed on the street beside me with a thud.

  “Sky above,” she heard me say. “Pantu. Pantu, are you …”

  My voice trailed off as I saw his sightless eyes. Kaita smiled in her mind and slunk away.

  Mag flew down the streets, searching for her prey. There were screams in all directions, but they rose and faded too quickly for her to get a good sense of where she should go. Only one thing was certain: the Shades had succeeded in their aims, and there was more than one vampire in the town now. From the sound of it, there were at least half a dozen.

  The citizens of Lan Shui scrambled and fled in all directions, like chickens who had just found a fox in their henhouse. But no one seemed to know which way to go. Mag saw one group fleeing east collide headlong with another group running west. After some of them slammed into each other and fell to the ground, those still standing kept running the way they had been going. Away from danger, or towards more of it, Mag could not know.

  A moment ago, she would have grown frustrated. But her emotions were gone, pushed to the depths of her soul, and only the killer was left. The killer could not afford the thought necessary to care for these people, to be anguished at their terror and their pain. That would be later, when she was herself again.

  Finally she heard a scream close by, from the next street over. She turned on the spot and rushed towards the sound. And there, at last, she found her prey.

  A vampire crouched over a figure on the ground. A figure in red leather armor. Sinshi, the constable, whose arms still beat feebly at the vampire’s shoulder, even as it sucked its meal from his jugular. On the other side of the creature, a man and woman watched in horror from where they sat on the ground. It looked as though Sinshi had pushed them out of the way as the creat
ure attacked. But their terror left them unable to flee, and it would only be a matter of time before the vampire pounced upon them.

  If not for Mag.

  She ran up to the beast from behind, lunging the last pace. It heard her at the last instant and spun—but just a bit too slowly. Her spearhead slashed a deep rent in its side, and it fell back, giving a horrible, guttural screech.

  The vampire crouched, hissing and showing its teeth. Mag fell back to defense, her shield up. The vampire began to edge left, trying to circle her, and she did the same, so that they maneuvered around each other. She got herself between the vampire and the bystanders.

  “You should be going,” Mag said over her shoulder. The townspeople stared at her for a moment in terror before turning and scrambling away.

  The vampire’s eyes shifted away from Mag to watch them go. It tried to leap over her to catch them, but Mag predicted the movement. Her spear stabbed upward, the head sinking into the vampire’s shoulder. It screeched and landed hard on its side in the street, rolling and coming up in a crouch. It glared at Mag and hissed again. Over its head, she saw the townspeople vanish behind a building.

  “Good,” she said. “Let us finish it, now.”

  She leaped to the attack, and the vampire lunged to meet her. Her shield blocked its first swipe, and her spearhead sank into its gut. The vampire screamed as it fell on its back, trying to escape. But Mag followed, thrusting harder on the spear. It pierced flesh and guts, driving through the vampire’s back and into the ground below. The skin around the wooden spear haft turned black and wilted, curling back and away from the wound like paper in a flame. The vampire tried to seize the spear—to pull it out, or mayhap to snap it in half. Mag kicked its claws away.

  The vampire shuddered and died.

  Mag looked up just as Ashta ran into view. The constable’s eyes fell upon Sinshi lying dead in the street.

  “No!” she cried, falling to her knees beside him. She tilted his head to look into his eyes, but they only stared blankly through her.

  “Are you hurt?” said Mag.

  Ashta shook, gripping Sinshi’s shoulders hard. At last she mastered herself and looked up.

  “No.”

  “Good. I have to go after the others.”

  “What others?” said Ashta. “They have gone.”

  Mag paused. She straightened and cocked her head, listening. Lan Shui had gone utterly silent. No more screams, and no more bestial roars.

  The fight was over. And deep inside herself, with the ease of long practice, Mag released her trance. Her emotions, her fears, everything came rushing back. For a moment it was overwhelming, and she took a deep breath to maintain her calm. Her shoulders rose and fell, and she was back.

  “The wounded will need help,” she told Ashta. Even in her own ears, her voice sounded completely different than it had a moment ago. “Whatever you can do, do it. I have to find Albern.”

  Dawn broke.

  There were many dead strewn about the streets. The constables—those who remained—began to organize the townsfolk to collect the bodies and to heal the wounded. We gathered Dryleaf from the Shades’ hideout, returned him to our inn, and went to help the survivors.

  Yue found us shortly after the vampires fled. She stopped dead on the street, staring at us, and we met her gaze. She looked beyond weary, swaying on her feet, her eyes blinking too rapidly. It was a far cry from the proud, stocky warrior we had met when we first arrived at the town.

  I wondered what she was thinking, in those long moments. Did she blame us for the attack? We had returned to the town full of pride and boasting of victory, but those boasts had proven hollow. Yet we could not have known, any better than Yue could, that the vampires had gathered in numbers.

  At last she spoke. “We are collecting the wounded at our station,” she said. “If you are not leaving town, then help us bring them.”

  We did as she asked. That part was easy, for the dead greatly outnumbered the injured.

  It was Northwood all over again. I saw the same despair in the face of everyone we passed, the same confusion. Why? Why had this happened to them? They were simple folk. They farmed, and they worked, and they crafted, and they lived their lives. Horror and death had come upon them without warning, without reason. They did not deserve this, and they could scarcely hope to combat it.

  When we had fetched all the wounded who had been found in the town, Mag and I stood silent in the street for a while. The night air was cool, and it helped to chill the heat we had worked up with our grisly task. I looked up into the sky, trying to regain a sense of space after spending several hours looking only at dead and dying townsfolk within arm’s reach. Mag stared down at her hands.

  “Let us get food and something to drink,” I said at last.

  Mag only nodded. I led her through the streets to our inn. Dryleaf was in the common room, leaning against a wall in the corner, nodding into his chest. I did not want to wake him—the old man had been up most of the night, and he deserved a good rest.

  As I went to the barman and ordered breakfast and tea, Mag slumped at a table near the hearth. She stared at her hands the whole time, even as food was brought to us, even as I began to eat. She did not touch her own food. I kept glancing over at her, but she did not meet my gaze even once. Something was weighing on her, that was clear.

  Finally I had had enough. “Come on, Mag,” I said. “Eat something. And say whatever it is you must say.”

  She took a bite of the bread on her plate. Then another. Then she started devouring it ravenously, as though her body had only just realized how hungry she was. Her tea was cold by that time, but she drank it down regardless. When she had finished everything on the table before her, she settled back in her chair with a sigh.

  “Better?” I said.

  “Somewhat,” she muttered. Then, to my surprise, she fished into a pouch on her belt and withdrew a copper sliver. She tossed it at me. It gave a heavy clink as it landed on the table, and then it rolled across the wood to bump my arm.

  “The meal is paid for already,” I told her. “Keep your money.”

  “Look at it, Albern.”

  Her voice was as solemn as I had ever heard it. Frowning, I scooped up the copper. I looked at it carefully, but I could not see anything amiss. The face of Andriana the Fearless stared up at me.

  Then I flipped it over. And still, I looked upon Andriana.

  “Ha!” I said. “You see these every once in a while. It gets stamped with the same sign on both sides. I used to have a silver—”

  “Latrine duty,” said Mag.

  I looked at her, not understanding.

  “In Northwood, before we rode out. You wanted to go after Loren. I wanted to ride into the Greatrocks. We played latrine duty.”

  The full weight of what she was saying crashed down upon me. I went very still.

  “A coin flip. I keep that copper around as a keepsake, a curiosity. But in that moment, I used it to cheat you. We would not be here if I had not lied. Latrine duty.”

  I shook my head. “When you make an agreement …”

  “I stacked the odds,” said Mag. “I wish I had not, Albern. I am sorry. You deserve better than—”

  “Oh, be quiet,” I said. “Honestly, Mag.”

  She bowed her head, avoiding my gaze. “Of course. I … should I leave you alone for a moment?”

  “Of course not, you great ass.” I laughed. “Latrine duty.”

  Mag’s eyes widened at my laugh. “Are you not upset with me?”

  “Am I? I suppose so, a little. But …” I sighed and passed a hand over my eyes. “Mag, I … I told you much about the Greatrocks. With Loren, I mean, before I came to you in Northwood. But I did not tell you everything, because … well, because I was ashamed.

  “Loren met me in Strapa. And when she came into my bowyery, she was with a Mystic named Jordel of the family Adair. A finer man I have never met in Underrealm. I could tell they were in some trouble, that they
were going somewhere far and doing something important. And I wanted to go with them. Mag, I wanted to go with them so desperately. Yet when I offered my services as a guide, they refused me.

  “That piqued my interest, and so I asked around. In no time at all, I discovered that they were hiding their true identity and trying to avoid notice. The Mystics were after them. And so I told the Mystics where they could be found. Soon they were on the run again, fleeing from those who wished to deliver them to the King’s justice—and then, who appeared to rescue them, but me. Again I offered my services, and that time they happily took me as their guide.”

  Mag was looking hard at me. Guilt was still heavy in her eyes. “That is different, Albern. If you had not taken them into the mountains—”

  “Jordel would never have discovered the Shades,” I told her. “And now Loren will tell the Mystics of the threat, and a great disaster will be averted. I did an evil thing. I betrayed them. And great good came from it. You did nothing nearly so dishonorable. And if we had not come here, Lan Shui would be facing these monsters alone. Instead, they have us. They have you. That means they have a chance.”

  I pushed back my chair and stood. “If you have done evil against me, I forgive it. That may not entirely assuage your conscience, but if not, that is on your account.” I thrust out a hand.

  Slowly, Mag rose to her feet. She took my wrist and shook. “Very well,” she said quietly. “Thank you.”

  “You wish to thank me? Give me a week’s sleep, a barrel of your finest ale, and figure out some way to kill these vampires before anyone else in Lan Shui gets hurt.”

  That forced a laugh from her, as I hoped it would. “I cannot help you with the first two. But … I may have thought of something when it comes to the vampires.”

  That took me utterly by surprise. “You have?”

  “The Shades’ magic summoned them here,” she said. “We know that now.”

  “We do,” I said. “And it is an evil like I have never heard tale of, though I know many tales.”