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

by Garrett Robinson

  As I woke from the day’s sleep, I leaped up with a shout. “Where is Mag?”

  My cries startled Yue awake. “What?” she grumbled, blinking against the fading sunlight.

  “Mag!” I shouted. I should not have been yelling so loud, but I did not care. I ran around the edges of the camp, screaming into the Greenfrost. “Mag!”

  Dryleaf had come awake. He tried to push himself up from the ground, but he could not do it until Yue came running to help him. His head swung back and forth, blind eyes blinking anxiously.

  “Albern!” he called out. “What is it? What is happening?”

  “Mag is gone,” I growled, stomping back towards the camp. “Dark take her, I knew it, I knew—”

  My attention caught on Oku. The hound was trotting back and forth towards the north end of the camp, sniffing the ground and whining.

  “What is it?” I ran to him, and he pointed with his nose. The ground there had been swept clean—I had done it myself when we found the campsite, to ensure no one would follow us here. But now there was a fresh set of tracks. It set out from our camp, walking away north between the trunks of the trees.

  “Dark-taken sow!” I roared. “How dare she? She … she—” I bit my own words off, unable to find words for my rage.

  Yue had come to stand beside me, and though she was no better a tracker than Mag, even she could not miss the set of bootprints leading north through the mud.

  “We have to go after her,” she said.

  I bit my tongue nearly hard enough to sever it. “We cannot,” I growled at last. “Not both of us. Yue, I am so sorry. I do not deserve to ask anything of you. But please, someone must stay here with Dryleaf. I need you to keep him safe while I rescue Mag.”

  “Rescue her?” said Yue. “How do you mean to do that?”

  “I think she has gone to Kun’s camp,” I said. “To turn herself in and face punishment for everything that has happened. I can … I should be able to …”

  Yue’s face had gone stony. “Be able to what, Albern?”

  I shook my head slowly. “I do not know,” I said. “Mayhap I can sneak in and … help her escape somehow.”

  “And what if she is guarded?” said Yue. “What will you do to any soldiers watching over her?”

  I looked at her, aghast. “Yue. I would never harm them. If there is no way to get her out …” I swallowed hard. “Well. If I cannot get her out, then I will get caught trying. I promised her, Yue, that I would stay by her side until the end of the road. I cannot break my word. Not to Mag.”

  Yue studied me for a long moment. At last she said, quietly, “All right, then. If you promise you will not harm a servant of the King’s law, then I will stay and watch Dryleaf.”

  “I promise.”

  Dryleaf was trying to rise to his feet. “Albern,” he said, groaning the word. “You have to …”

  The effort was too much for him, and he subsided, sinking back into the bed we had made for him. I ran to his side. “I am here, Dryleaf.”

  “You have to save her,” said Dryleaf. “I have told you before. She needs you, far more than either of you think.”

  “I do not know if I believe that,” I said. “But I will—”

  “You must believe it,” insisted Dryleaf. “You are not her lackey, Albern. Stop acting as if you are—for both your sakes.”

  I studied him. His expression was so focused that I felt he was staring right back at me. At last, I nodded.

  “All right,” I said quietly. “I will remember it. And I will save her.”

  One should never make a promise like that. I felt as if I were lying to his face. But I refused to leave him without hope.

  I stood and turned to Yue. “Stay safe until I return.”

  “Just see to it that you do return,” she growled.

  For a moment, I hesitated. Then I nodded, turning to go.

  “Oh, come here, you fool.”

  She seized me and pulled me in. It was not the most affectionate kiss we had shared, and certainly not the most passionate. But it was something, at least. I had feared that whatever had grown between us had died, after what had happened with Kun, and I would have understood.

  “I will see you again,” I said.

  “You had better,” she said.

  I turned and ran north, following Mag’s trail. Oku padded beside me, silent and true.

  Tagata and Kaita were curled around each other in a bedroll, in a tent, a league to the west. Their boots, cloaks, and other clothes were scattered all around, as were three skins that had once contained wine. Parts of the bedroll were torn and ripped, letting in the cold air. But Kaita only had to press herself closer to Tagata’s massive, bare form to banish the chill from her skin, and so she slept content.

  Until Tagata stirred, pushed herself up on one elbow, and gently shook her shoulder.

  “Hmm?” said Kaita. She looked up, blinking hard at Tagata’s face. The shadeborn’s hair stuck wildly out in all directions, much like Kaita’s own. “Oh, again?”

  She pulled Tagata down for a kiss. Tagata smiled and gave in for a moment, but then she pressed a hand to Kaita’s cheek to stop her.

  “No, dear one. I have received word from the Lord. Come. We must leave.”

  Kaita groaned. The wine had not quite worn off, but it was starting to, and it threatened a noticeable headache. “Now?” she complained. “Well, tell the troops to get ready and then come back to me. We can take a short while to ourselves, while they prepare to march.”

  “Not our kindred,” said Tagata, chuckling. “Just us. You and me.”

  “Why?” murmured Kaita, pressing against Tagata’s chest again. “What do the two of us—”

  Her eyes shot wide. She jerked up, gawking at Tagata in the darkness.

  “You cannot mean …”

  Tagata smiled. “Get ready,” she said, reaching for her vest. “And make sure you bring the magestones.”

  Soon they were dressed, and they emerged into the frigid cold together. Kaita followed Tagata to the east. And every few steps, her fingers stole into her cloak to probe the brown cloth packet.

  I came sprinting out of the Greenfrost, Oku beside me. I could still see Mag’s trail. It stood out fresh on top of the many other tracks from recent days. She was not making even the barest attempt to hide her passing. She had to know I would be able to follow her. Did she think I would not go into Kun’s encampment? Did she believe me faithless, that I would abandon her to her fate, and not try to stop her, or to save her?

  A chill struck me.

  Did she think Kun would be so quick to execute her that I would not even have the chance? That when I failed to save her from her fate, I would be forced to turn tail and head back to Yue?

  That was a darker thought than I wished to contemplate, and certainly a darker one than I wanted to imagine in Mag’s mind.

  I put on a fresh burst of speed, hardly even glancing at her trail anymore. It went straight north. That required no skill to follow. I knew where she was going, and I would go with her until the end, even if it were only to find her already—

  I stopped.

  Mag’s tracks turned. They were no longer heading for Kun’s camp, but had swung west.

  My gaze followed, and I frowned, wondering what Mag could be looking for in that direction.

  And then I saw another massive furrow in the muddy ground. One like the trail of Kun’s army, but smaller, and heading west through the hills.

  The tracks of the Shades. They had left it when they retreated, after destroying the supply train.

  My eyes shot wide.

  No.

  Mag marched west.

  She had known what she was looking for when she left the Greenfrost. She had known the Shades were to the west. And so she skirted the edge of Kun’s encampment until she saw the signs of their retreat. She was no tracker, and she never had been. But she could read the signs of an army marching across the land.

  She was following those sig
ns still. There was determination in her step, but no speed. She was resolute, but she was not eager. This path was inevitable. It was always going to come to this, in the end. She had once deluded herself into thinking there was another way, but she knew now that that had been an impossible dream.

  Like her life with Sten.

  She swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat and rolled her shoulders. And she trudged on. She would not stop, not now. Not until she reached the end of the long road.

  Alone.

  She wondered, briefly, if I would ever forgive her.

  Above her, a raven called in the darkening sky. Mag ignored it at first. If the bird sought carrion, it would soon have its fill.

  Then she stopped.

  It was late for ravens to be out.

  The bird landed in the mud in front of her a span away. Magelight flashed in its eyes, and Kaita resumed her human form.

  And then behind her, over the low hill west of their battleground, came another figure, this one lumbering. More than two heads taller than Kaita, and with a massive greatsword slung across her back. The brute woman.

  Mag heaved a mighty breath, letting it out through her mouth to wreathe into mist around her.

  She hefted her spear and swung her shield onto her arm.

  Kaita could not believe it. Here was Mag, at last. Alone, isolated from her friends. Kaita had kept her promise to Rogan, who received his instructions directly from the Lord himself.

  The Lord had known. He had always known, all this time, how it would end. His foresight was perfect. And what was more, he really did love Kaita. Despite all her doubts, all her questioning, he saw her value, and he had granted her the boon she most desired. She would never doubt him again.

  A savage grin spread across her face.

  “The end of our road,” she called out to Mag across the muddy field.

  “And not soon enough,” said Mag, her tone casual. “Are you going to turn into the cat, or the bear? Or have you grown tired of tricks? I will kill you like this if you want.”

  Behind Kaita, Tagata snarled at Mag’s threats. But Kaita laughed and turned to her. “Dear one, there is no need to worry. Look at her. Alone, without anyone to rescue her.”

  “I am not the one who will need rescuing,” called Mag.

  Kaita ignored her, keeping her gaze on Tagata. “Stay here. You know I have our father’s strength now.”

  “But I came here for you,” said Tagata, scowling past her at Mag.

  “And you are here for me,” said Kaita. “That is what is important. You can be my witness. But let me do this on my own and help me celebrate when it is over.”

  Tagata’s nostrils flared as she heaved a sigh. But then she nodded and took a step back. “Very well.”

  Kaita bowed her head towards Tagata. Then she turned back to Mag. Her hand stole beneath her cloak again, as it had done often on the journey here. But this time when it came out, a single magestone was clutched between her fingers.

  Mag went very still. And Kaita saw it. This was not the indifference of the battle-trance, the certainty and neutrality that came with her fearless war mask. This was hesitation. Uncertainty. Kaita had never seen it in Mag’s demeanor before, and it thrilled her beyond reckoning. For once, for the first time, she was the one in control, and Mag was not confident of the outcome of the fight.

  A small, quiet pitter-patter of rain began to fall on them, strengthening by the moment.

  Kaita stood straighter, spreading her hand at her side to catch as much of the setting sun’s light as possible, even as clouds moved across the sky to obscure its dying glow. It warmed her skin, reminding her of Tagata as they pressed against each other in the tent.

  Kaita smiled. And she slid the magestone between her lips.

  It crunched between her teeth so sweetly, so gently. There was the slightest resistance, like a carrot that had been steamed to perfection. And then the black crystal melted on her tongue, sliding down her throat like sweet honey. It vanished there, in her center, her core, only to come surging back a moment later. Kaita could feel it coursing through her veins, filling her flesh and her skin and every part of her with pure, raw power.

  Power. She thought she had known it before. She thought she knew strength in the burly frame of the bear. She thought she knew killing swiftness in the lightning paws of the mountain lion. But she had known nothing. She could feel it within her—every form she knew, every animal she had taken into her canon, now stronger, faster, more nimble.

  But beneath it all, in her very essence, she could sense something new. A form she had never seen before, had never even imagined. Now it presented itself to her, offering up every detail, letting her see it in its entirety, the way a weremage must see a creature when they learn its form. Every part of it was now as familiar to her as the raven in which she had journeyed endless leagues.

  This was power. This was safety—the strength to destroy any enemy who ever crossed her. No one could ever banish her again. No one could ever cast her aside for being useless, not with this form inside her.

  It was everything she had ever wanted.

  She let the form flow into her. And she began to change.

  Her eyes turned black, and then they began to glow. A sickening darkness seeped out of them and consumed the fading sunlight. Her skin swelled. It flowed out like water and then hardened, turning rigid as glacial ice, and like ice, it was white and translucent. She fell forwards on all fours. Her shoulders and arms swelled like those of an ape of the northern jungles, but half again as tall and three times as heavy. Her face jutted forth, and huge fangs erupted from both top and bottom jaws. Where the skin formed into solid white armored plates, it also grew jagged spikes that erupted out all across her form. Between the blades, the surfaces were rough like tree bark made of razors, so that nothing could touch her without coming away bleeding.

  Kaita gave herself one moment—only one. She closed her eyes, inhaled, and then exhaled again, tensing and flexing every muscle in her new body.

  She could not believe it. To know that this was the strength of magestones. This was the power of the Wizard Kings of old. How had they ever lost it? How could anyone have taken this away from them?

  No one could stop her now. She should have taken the stones weeks ago. She could have plunged straight into the center of the Mystic army. Who could have stopped her? No blade could pierce her hide. No one could live once she had set her sights on them and pronounced their death.

  Her eyes snapped open, and they focused on Mag.

  A moment ago, Mag had looked uncertain. That was gone. Her face was a deadpan mask again, the battle-trance with which Kaita was all too familiar. Kaita hated it, hated Mag for it.

  The rainstorm above them had worsened, and now lightning cracked in the sky. Thunder rocked the ground, sending waves through puddles of rainwater. And Kaita roared to meet it, and the sound was like every demon in the darkness below. She charged, and it was more terrible than the worst storms of winter.

  Kaita’s first swipe came faster than the lion, too fast for Mag to dodge. She raised her shield instead, hoping to roll with the blow as she would have with the bear. But it was too strong, and with a crash, she was flung back, sliding five paces through the mud.

  For a moment, Kaita stood there, flexing her great clawed fingers, marveling at them. She had never been so fast, never so strong. Why would the Lord not grant this gift to all his wizard children? Underrealm would not stand for a month, not against even a handful of them.

  Mag got to her feet. The mud clung too thick for the rain to wash it off. Still, her face was the impassive mask, not a muscle in it twitching.

  But that was fine. Kaita did not need to see Mag’s fear. She did not need her to scream or to weep.

  It was enough to watch her die.

  Kaita launched herself across the snow. Mag tried to dodge aside, but Kaita turned, quick as lightning. Her left rear limb struck out, a crushing blow that slammed into Mag’s bac
k and flung her facedown into the ground.

  When she came up, her lip was split open. Rainwater mixed with the blood, sending it racing down her chin to splash into the mud.

  Kaita’s heart sang.

  Again she lunged, and then again, each time swiping, snarling. Mag tried to avoid her blows, and sometimes she managed it. But Kaita was simply too fast now. She struck Mag once in the ribs, and something cracked. Her claws raked down Mag’s spear arm, sending more bright blood to stain the churning ground.

  Though it was Kaita’s own claws doing the cutting, she almost could not believe it was working. Never in the past had she so much as nicked Mag’s skin. From what she knew, no one ever had.

  Mag backed off two paces. She was breathing hard now, though her mangled spear arm did not shake. Her lip still bled down her chin and onto her shirt, but her expression had not changed.

  As Kaita stood there marveling at her success, Mag leaped. Her spear came up, and she jammed it straight into Kaita’s neck.

  It struck the chitinous armor. And there it stuck. Kaita could barely feel it—like a playful pinch from a lover.

  She bared her dagger-long fangs, a snarl and a smile all at once.

  Her claws raked Mag’s body. The spear went spinning away. Mag’s shirt of scales kept her from being gutted. But the claws punctured it in places. Blood soaked into her undershirt. And now her spear was behind Kaita, far out of reach.

  Kaita stepped forwards, planting her claws in the ground on either side of Mag’s head. Mag looked up into her ink-black eyes.

  I was running through the snow in the fading afternoon light, Oku by my side. Ahead of us, I could hear the inhuman screams of some unknown creature. A new form of Kaita’s, I guessed, though I could not imagine what sort of animal would make that sound. My lungs seemed to be screaming nearly as loud, but I ignored them. I had to keep going. Mag was in trouble, and she was alone. That mattered more than any pain.

  She is alone. She is alone, and I promised.

  And in a bitter corner of my mind, a voice snarled, But she promised, too.

  And then I came over the top of a hill. I was just in time to see Kaita plunge pace-long claws straight through Mag’s chest and into the ground.