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

me a brief, confused glance when we entered the hall, but seeing my state, she had not looked at me again. “I am Chao, and this is Dryleaf. We are honored to stand in your presence.”

“Kind words, coming from the mouth of one who has been found breaking the law in my domain,” said Ditra.

“I have long had great respect for the family Telfer,” said Mag, “though it has been long since I was able to visit your noble dwelling. May I ask, where is the former lord, Thada of the family Telfer?”

The chamber fell silent. The lead ranger frowned down at us, but more in confusion than anger, I thought. Ditra had gone rather still in her chair, and while she did not exactly scowl down at Mag, she looked even more solemn than she had a moment ago.

“She passed into the darkness some time ago,” she said. “I find it hard to believe you could have met her, for you look as if you would have been very young when she died.”

I felt as if the ground had tilted beneath my feet. I gripped the back of Dryleaf’s robes, holding him for support, trying not to come unmoored from the very ground. Dryleaf, for his part, tried to keep still, though I am afraid I may have put a great deal of weight on the poor man.

“I am often told that I look younger than I am,” said Mag in a quiet voice. “I am sorry for your family’s loss. How did she die?”

The lead ranger shifted again, but plainly in annoyance this time. Ditra, too, seemed angered by the question, and her lips drew tight.

“I hope I do not offend,” said Mag quickly. “It is only … we had the chance to speak once. And I was young, as you said. It was a conversation I have never forgotten.”

Ditra seemed to relent slightly at that, though she looked no more pleased. “She was riding in the mountains,” she said. “Feldemarians attacked and killed her. It was shortly after the death of my older sister.”

I could scarcely withstand the storm of emotions now raging within me. And yet, somehow, I did withstand it. What I was feeling … it was happening, but I could not let it affect me. I could not let it show in my face. I could not let it reveal anything about me, or draw Ditra’s attention to me.

I had been afraid of being recognized when I thought I would have to face my mother. Now I was terrified. And so I controlled myself, despite the agony it caused me. Emotion would be of no help. It would ruin everything. It would cause me to make a mistake, and that would endanger me and my friends. So I simply … did not permit the emotion to affect me. I removed it from myself, to a place where it could hold no sway over my actions.

At that moment, I first began to understand Mag’s battle-trance. I could not allow my thoughts to control me, and so I simply … left. I put myself in another place, so that I could do what I had to do to survive. A part of myself was destroyed as I did it, like I had ripped myself in two. But it was the only way.

And with that realization, the first seed of a question was planted in my mind. What had happened to Mag, long ago, that had made her feel this way for the first time? And how, when it was so agonizing to me, had she continued to use it, over and over again, until it became one of her hallmarks in battle?

But all of this passed through my mind in a flash, the way these moments do, to be considered later. Meanwhile, Mag and Ditra continued their conversation.

“No words can express my sorrow,” said Mag. “Though years have passed since your loss, I offer my deepest sympathy.”

“I am comforted by your kind words,” said Ditra, who did not particularly sound as if she was. “But that is not why you stand before me. What are the three of you doing in my lands?”

“We were sent north,” said Mag. “We serve Lord Matara.”

Ditra frowned. “And what service are you providing him?”

“He ordered us to hunt down a rogue weremage who had been plaguing his domain,” said Mag.

“A rogue weremage,” said Ditra flatly. “And he did not give this matter to the Mystics?”

Mag hesitated. Dryleaf cleared his throat, drawing Ditra’s attention. “Lord Telfer,” he said. “This matter concerns secret words that all the Calentin lords have recently heard from the High King’s Seat.”

Ditra’s face betrayed nothing. But she turned and motioned towards Maia with two fingers. He waved to the guards stationed along the walls, and they slowly filed out of the room, closing the door behind them. Ditra turned back to us.

“This concerns the Shades,” she said.

“As we told your rangers in the mountains,” said Mag, “though mayhap we spoke in haste. The weremage we are hunting—she is a Shade, and she is operating with others in the area.”

“Why would Lord Matara not have sent word of this to me at once?” said Ditra. “And this does not explain why he would not take the matter to the Mystics. A rogue weremage falls under their jurisdiction, and even more so if she is a Shade.”

“As for your first question, the Rangatira did not know the weremage would come here,” said Dryleaf. “Nor did we. We pursued her away from Opara and followed her trail through the kingdom, only arriving here yesterday. In hindsight, it would have been wise of us to come to you before we continued our chase. But we have been on a long trail, and we thought we saw its end within reach. As for your second question, the Mystics in Opara were notified. But they only recently discovered a cabal of Shades in the wilderness near their city, and they have been much