The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

“Because she has friends here, or so we have gathered,” I said.

Tuhin nodded slowly, pursing their lips. “Hm. If she is lurking near here, there are only a few places she could be—especially if she has company.”

“We hoped you would be able to point us to some of them,” I said.

They leaned back in their chair, looking pensively at the table and tapping their chin. After a while they rose and went to a cupboard at the other end of the room. From it they pulled a wide scroll, which they unfurled on the table to reveal a map of Opara and the surrounding area. On the eastern end of it was half of Tahumaunga, the fire mountain, with many notes scratched around the area of its foothills. Some had been rubbed away, leaving only a smudged stain behind. Tuhin leaned over it.

“If the weremage is up to no good, and is trying to avoid the law, there are many places she could be hiding,” said Tuhin. “Of course, being a weremage, she could be anywhere, even in plain sight.”

Mag nodded. “We think it will be easier to find her by way of the friends we mentioned earlier. Someone in one of the previous towns we passed through heard her talking about coming to Opara to join them.”

“And what sort of friends are they?” said Tuhin.

Mag shrugged innocently. “She is a criminal on the run from the law. I imagine they are other criminals.” Then she fixed Tuhin with a piercing look. “Though of course, the Rangatira seemed rather suspicious of the whole matter. Tell me: are the two of you worried about the Shades?”

She might as well have pulled the ceiling down on us with mindmagic, so great was the effect upon Tuhin. Dryleaf’s brows shot for the sky, and his grip tightened on his walking stick. I tried mightily to keep an expression of calm, but I must admit I wondered for a moment if Mag had quite lost her mind.

“How do you—” began Tuhin.

“When we were following the weremage through Dorsea, the rumor of these ‘Shades’ was thick across the land,” said Mag. “We heard they have already attacked a town in Selvan—some place called North Forest, or some such.” She gave a look of surprise so genuine that I almost believed it. “But you look shocked. Are they meant to be a secret?”

Tuhin frowned. “They are. Blast. My lord will not be pleased to find out that rumors of the Shades have spread to the commonfolk—though I am happy to hear that it seems to have started in Dorsea, and not here in Calentin.”

Mag cocked her head, her eyes widening slightly in perfectly innocent curiosity. “Who are they?”

Tuhin shook their head slowly. “The Rangatira has told me that you should hear that news from your own lord. But if your weremage has something to do with the Shades, then—”

“Oh, we are certain she does not,” said Mag, shaking her head emphatically. “There was not even a rumor of them in Tokana. We only heard about them in Dorsea, and never related to our search for her. And we heard less and less about them the farther we came north.”

I understood at last. As long as Tuhin thought we knew nothing about the Shades, they would not speak of the matter with us—but they would harbor a secret suspicion about our weremage, and might even withhold information. But by assuring Tuhin that yes, we did know of the Shades, but that we were certain our weremage was in no way related to them, Mag hoped to put Tuhin’s mind to rest on the matter. It made sense, though it still seemed a wild risk, and I wished we had had time to discuss it first.

Tuhin was silent a long time. Their brow furrowed, and they looked between Mag and I. “What did this weremage do, exactly? Why did Lord Telfer command you to hunt her in the first place?”

“She killed someone,” I said quietly. “Someone dear to us, and dear to Lord Telfer. It was a spiteful, personal fight that spun out of control.” Mag’s expression turned grim.

Tuhin sighed. “I am sorry to hear it,” they said. “Very well. If the weremage has friends hiding her from the law, and they are not lurking here in the city, that should narrow it down. She is likely somewhere in the foothills of the mountain.”

“We came from there just this morning,” said Mag.

Tuhin nodded. “So I heard. There are many folds in the land in that area. Opara is an always-changing place. People move here, and people move away. Abandoned homesteads are common near the edge of the wilderness. So, too, are neglected strongholds even farther away. Some are built by bandits and thieves and left empty when we drive them off, but then there are abandoned fortresses, relics of ancient kings, some stretching back to the time before time. They often have an evil air, and criminals usually avoid them, but not always.” They thrust their finger at the map. “We should begin with the stronghold of Maunwa. The last time it was occupied was three years ago. After we drove bandits out of the place then, the Rangatira kept a watch on it. But that watch was relaxed a year ago, and now it is visited but rarely.”

An evil stronghold in the mountains. I did not much like the sound of that. But Mag had focused on something else Tuhin had said.

“You said ‘we’ should search the stronghold? Kanohari and I had planned to go on our own.”

Tuhin grinned up at her. “Did you? Well, I am the Rangatira’s servant, and it is my duty. He assigned me to help you.”

I gave them an easy smile. “We are grateful, of course.”

“It seems your plans are set,” said Dryleaf, who had settled back in his chair. “Though I am afraid I will not be much help in such a venture.”

Tuhin nodded and