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

sister will emerge from such a conflict unscathed. Whatever grudge she bears against you, she includes Lord Telfer in it as well.”

That detail had escaped me. But just as I was beginning to mull it over, there came the high squeak of a lock turning towards the front of the dungeon. I made my way to my feet as we heard boots approaching. Two of my family’s guards appeared outside the cell, their faces grim. Behind them was Ditra.

“You wanted to talk,” she said.

“Did you think you needed these guards?” I said, pointing to them.

“They are not for you,” said Ditra. Her gaze shifted to Mag. “They are for her. We have heard of the Uncut Lady even this far to the north.”

“Then you know your guards are useless,” said Mag with a smile.

An angry flush crept up into Ditra’s face, and I raised a hand to pacify Mag. “It is fine. Please, sit, and wait for my return.” I glanced at Ditra. “Assuming I will return?”

“As long as you do not do anything stupid,” she growled in irritation. “Stupider, I mean.”

Mag shrugged and went to sit beside Dryleaf. The guards unlocked the cell door, and I joined them in the hallway. We waited while they locked it again, and then I followed Ditra and her guards out of the dungeon.

Ditra led me up to the entry hall, and then through the large door to her audience chamber. But she did not stop there. She took me to the back, to the doorway hidden behind a stone wall that led to a narrow stairway. I knew that stairway led up to her personal chamber. It had once been my mother’s, and I had no fond memories of it. But I followed her up.

The two guards remained downstairs. But when we reached the upper hallway, I found Maia standing at the door to Ditra’s chamber, his hands clasped behind his back. As I emerged from the stairwell, he gave me a nearly imperceptible nod. Ditra ignored him, striding through the door into her room. I paused for a moment.

“Will you be joining us?” I asked Maia.

“Do I need to?”

That made me deflate a bit. “Of course not. I would never harm her.”

“So I thought,” said Maia. “I will remain outside.”

“Actually, you will fetch us some food and wine,” said Ditra sharply. It appeared she had not entirely gotten over her annoyance at Maia for the earlier spectacle. After a moment she added, “And have some sent to the others in the cell, while you are visiting the kitchens.”

“Of course, my lord,” said Maia. He gave a little sigh and left.

I steeled myself. Painful memories swam to the forefront of my mind, of so many times I had stepped into this chamber and left it in despair, or in tears. But that had been a long time ago. I shook off my thoughts and stepped into the room, closing the door behind me.

To my surprise, Ditra had not taken her seat at the head of the table. Instead she leaned against the nearest edge of it, her hands probing its corner idly. The posture was so unlike our mother that for a moment I could see only the sister of my youth.

“So,” she began. “Tell me about your friends. The truth, please, and not the lie you fed me earlier.”

“Mag was my friend in the Upangan Blades,” I said. “We have been close ever since. Dryleaf is an old man we found in Dorsea not long ago.”

“Very well.” She took a long breath and loosed it through her nose. “There is one matter we must tend to before any others. How are you?”

I stood there for a very long moment, and I am certain I had an utterly buffoonish look upon my face. When the words finally registered, I shrugged. “I … I am all right. I suppose.”

Her jaw clenched, and she shook her head. “I mean after the wending.”

Suddenly I realized what she was doing, and for a moment I could not speak. There is a conversation the family of an ander person is supposed to have with them after their wending, a ritual of long custom, stretching back to the time before time. She was having it with me now.

“Ditra, that was twenty years ago.” I could barely choke the words out. My throat had grown tight.

Her nostrils flared. “And you were not here. How are you?”

I could not hold her gaze any longer. I stared at my feet and shook my head, feeling tears close to bursting. “I am fine,” I whispered.

She came forwards and put her hands on my shoulders. “You look wonderful. Graceful. Like an adult, and not just for the grey in your hair. You were so very awkward as a child.”

Still I could barely choke my answers out. “I had good reason to be.”

From the corner of my eye I saw a smile on her lips, and I saw how sad it was. “You did. I wish to be certain—it is Albern now, correct?”

“It is.”

“Albern,” she said. “As your sister, I am overjoyed. Come, brother. For the first time, let me greet you as the man you are.”

She took me into her arms, and I could not withhold myself any longer. I did not fall sobbing into her grip, as I had done to Mag when I learned of my mother’s death. But still my tears slipped from me, and I held her hard, pressing my face into her shoulder, the way I had done so many times in my youth, when a nightmare had woken me in the middle of sleep. And when at last we drew back, I saw tears shining in her eyes as well.

But then she took another step back, and I saw her emotions fade away, not unlike when Mag’s battle-trance slid into place. In that moment she became not my sister, but the Lord Telfer, Rangatira of Tokana. I,