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

Mag could contain herself no longer. “She is a Shade, you fools!”

“Mag!” I said, but too late.

A shock passed through their party. The captain’s face darkened, and all doubt vanished from her expression.

“If you know what that means,” she hissed, “then you know better than to be shouting it out loud.”

“We have hunted her across two kingdoms,” I said, spreading my hands and adopting my most disarming tone. “My friend spoke in haste, but she is not—”

“Enough,” snapped the captain. I fell silent. “If you speak the truth, and she is a weremage, then she is well beyond our reach by now. And if you are lying, then you have broken Calentin law. In either case, this matter is out of my hands.” She turned to her party. “Bind them. We are taking them to the Rangatira.”

A pit formed in my stomach, a bottomless hole that threatened to engulf me. I searched desperately for some excuse, something I could say that would save us.

Nothing came. And so I remained silent, as the two guards on foot approached and took Mag and me by the arms.

Albern led Sun around the edge of the hill, and suddenly, there was Lan Shui. He paused the tale, and they both stood looking upon the town.

Sun found herself speechless. She had never seen Lan Shui, and yet Albern had described it in such detail that she felt as if she had been here before. It was nestled by a river that thundered down out of the Greatrocks, the peaks stretching tall and mighty above it. The western spur, which had seemed so large before, was now dwarfed by mountains that were no longer hidden by nearer hills.

“Lan Shui,” said Albern. “It has been a long time since last I beheld it. Come. I am hungry, and I long for something to drink.”

He nudged his horse forwards, and Sun followed. Though she kept studying the town as they approached, her mind drifted back to the tale Albern had been telling her.

“She got away,” said Sun. “Kaita, I mean. You were both such capable fighters, and yet she escaped you.”

“As she did in Northwood,” said Albern.

“She had help in Northwood,” said Sun.

Albern looked down at her, brows raised. “I am afraid I do not see your point, unless you mean to imply that we let her get away.”

“Of course not,” said Sun quickly. “It is only that … it must be the unluckiest thing I have ever heard of.”

Albern chuckled. “Luck. I have told you already—”

“That you do not believe in luck,” said Sun. “That you trust fate instead. Yes, I have heard you. Many times. But if that is true—if you were not meant to kill Kaita then, and you were meant to find me in that tavern, and all the rest of it—then why do anything at all? Why make choices? Why … why try? If you are meant to do one thing or another, if it is all a path laid before you in advance, then what does it matter what choices you make?”

Albern’s smile grew a little sad. “It is tragic to see such cynicism in one so young.”

“I speak of your beliefs, not my own,” grumbled Sun.

“And you apply a fatal viewpoint to them,” said Albern. “Think of this. One thing is certain for all of us: death lies at the end of our road. That is a certainty. That is a fate no one can escape. So if we know we are fated to die, would you say we should not live? Of course not. Our choices are everything. They make us who we are. And I believe they do shape events. Sometimes, a greater force—fate, I call it, though others have other words—it stops us from making the choice we want to make. But that does not mean our choice is invalid, or that we were wrong for making it. Think of it as a war of forces, a conflict between the things we can choose and the things we cannot. We may not be able to control everything, but we must never stop trying to help when we can, however we can.”

It was another one of Albern’s sayings that had the sound of deep wisdom, but which made Sun most uncomfortable for reasons she did not entirely understand. It kept her silent until they entered Lan Shui, waved on by a guard at the gatehouse who gave them only a cursory inspection. Within the walls, she let herself get distracted by the sights around her. A strange cast seem to cover the buildings, as well as the mountains and green fields beyond. She was reminded of Albern’s tale of the place, of the desperate battle he and Mag had fought against the vampires within these walls. Could she, in fact, see scratches on the buildings from the vampires’ claws? Or did they come from a more mundane source, or did she imagine them entirely?

But, too, she thought of the story he had just been telling her, about his little party riding into Telfer lands. The experiences were very similar, and the sensation she had now was familiar as well, the malaise of riding into a foreign town as a stranger, an interloper in another’s domain.

“It is different, being a traveler, is it not?” said Sun. “I have not often had the experience of riding into a town or city, unless I was a distinguished guest of some lord there. It is odd to be just a … a person. A person who knows no one, to whom nothing is familiar.”

“Yes, it can be strange,” said Albern. “But I think your discomfort will fade with time, and with practice. Strangers are usually kind. More often than not, you will find yourself welcomed in the places you visit, as long as you bring no evil with you. The experience