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

She had cast her cloak back and off her shoulders. In her right hand was her spear, and upon her left arm was her shield, held up in defense. The troll had stopped thundering after us, coming to a stop several paces away. It seemed more confused than anything as it glowered down at her, showing its teeth. They were mostly grey and blunt, but there were four huge tusks, two on the top and two on the bottom, that jutted from between the lips like latches holding a book closed. It regarded Mag for a long moment, heavy breaths huffing from its nostrils to steam in the frigid air.

“Greetings,” said Mag amiably. “I am Mag. We are looking for some friends of yours.”

The troll’s brows drew close. “You are human,” it said.

“And you are obviously a very bright specimen of your kind.”

“Mag, you fool!” I cried. “Do not taunt the thing. Run!”

“No, I do not think so,” said Mag, before speaking to the troll once again. “You will never have heard of me, I suspect. In many of the nine kingdoms, I am called the Uncut Lady. Though I am not one to flee from battle, I have no wish to fight you. Tell us where we can find the humans who have been working with your pack, and you and I can part as friends.”

The troll’s scowl deepened. “I am friends with no human,” it snarled.

“Except the Shades, I suppose?”

The troll roared and slammed its hands into the earth before storming towards her.

“No chance of peace, then,” said Mag. “I suspected as much.”

“Mag!”

I was too late. She crouched for a moment and then leaped, spear up and shield forwards.

The troll struck her a backhanded blow. It caught Mag from below and to the left, crashing into her shield. She sailed over the roof of a nearby building like a stone from a catapult, vanishing from sight.

The sight of it froze me in place. I had tried to tell her. I had said she could not treat the trolls like any other foe. And now one of them had dealt with her like she was no more threatening than a gnat. I prayed to the sky that she was still alive, and I could not imagine she was not badly hurt.

I forced my attention back to the troll. Mag would have to wait for a moment, for I could not help her if I was dead. Like Victon with the bear, I had to survive, and draw the danger away.

The troll had stopped in its advance, shoulders hunched, fists planted on the ground. Its wide, angry eyes fixed on Oku and me. The hound had sunk back on his haunches, fur bristling, a low growl in his throat. But he made no move to attack. He wanted to protect me, but I could practically feel the fear radiating from him. I tried to think of what to do.

Fire, I thought. Dark take me, I need fire.

I somehow doubted the troll would let me take out my flint and steel to start a blaze. I risked a glance around. None of the buildings showed any signs of smoke—their cooking fires and hearths would have extinguished themselves long ago.

My attention was dragged back to the troll as it took a step forwards. I raised my bow just a touch. But what good was an arrow against its hide?

Mag had tried to speak with it. But she had tried bluster. Mayhap there was another way.

“I do not wish to fight you,” I called out.

It gave a sound that was almost a grunt, but closer to a growl. “Get out of our mountains.”

“We will leave you in peace. You are welcome to the foodstuffs here.”

That was a mistake. My whole body jerked as the troll roared and slammed its fists down again. “You do not give us anything. We have taken it!”

“Of course,” I said. “I did not mean to—”

It was too late. The troll charged. I whipped my bow up and fired a shot, aiming for the eye. But it was moving too fast, and the arrow ricocheted from its stony forehead. Oku and I dived out of the way behind the corner of a building just as the troll sped by both of us, slamming its shoulder into another structure. The wooden timbers shattered under the impact, and the roof collapsed.

“Oku, kip!” I said. “Go!”

With a panicked yelp, the hound ran off and out of sight. No use in both of us dying.

I had to decide what my aim was. If Mag was still alive, she had to be hurt. Thus it seemed my best chance of accomplishing anything lay in drawing the troll away from her, and then losing it so I could swing back and find her.

Every part of me screamed in terrified protest as I turned back to the troll, who was only now emerging from the wreckage of the home it had destroyed.

“All right, then, beast,” I called out. “You want a fight? Come and get one.”

My heart skipped as it gave another wild roar. I drew and fired just before it charged. But fear made my shot go wide again, and the arrow bounced from its hide.

I turned and fled around the corner of the stone building, thinking that might give the troll pause. I was wrong. Two earth-shattering crashes shook the ground as the troll slammed through the opposite wall, and then the near one just behind me. A stone struck my shoulder, and I stumbled.

I tried desperately not to panic as I turned another corner. I could not outrun the thing, and I could not safely hide behind any of the buildings. I had to make it lose sight of me. But I was nearing the village’s edge, and soon I would be in open terrain. My mind whirled, searching for some solution.

Another turn. Another. If I could only stay out of sight a moment longer