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

“I believe you,” said Gatak. “Do not worry. I will return soon.”

“You said that before,” said Dotag. “You did not come back for a long time.”

Gatak lowered her ears and pressed her head into his chest. “A few months are nothing. There are many years ahead of us. But I will not be gone that long this time. I promise I will return to you before the attack.”

Dotag seemed comforted at that—and at the feeling of her pressing into him. “You vow it?”

“I vow it,” she said. “Watch for my return.”

She made her long, slow climb down the cliff. She hated coming down. It always took so much longer than climbing. But it was worth it to view the world from those lofty heights—not as high as a bird, but with solid ground underneath you, like a throne from which you could view the world far below your feet.

Gatak reached the bottom and lumbered off into the darkness, to a place she knew was well out of sight of Dotag, where no troll had any hope of seeing her.

Once she was certain she was alone, her eyes began to glow.

Her form shrank. Her limbs grew slim. Tight clothing sprang from where it had been wrapped deep within her form.

Kaita emerged into the night. She took a deep breath of the air, reveling in her returned sense of smell. Trolls could smell almost nothing, and she always felt like she had a wolf’s nose after she resumed human form.

But she had little time to enjoy herself. Her eyes glowed again. She took her raven form and flapped up into the air. The mountain winds were with her, and in no time she had reached the Shade encampment. They had set themselves up in rows of tents, buried deep in the mountains where few had any hope of finding them. Even rangers would not have drawn near to the camp, for the trolls were between them and the city.

She landed in their midst and resumed her human form again. A wave of fatigue struck her, but she shrugged it off. There was a moment’s shock among the Shades, but it did not last long. Their commander’s habits were well known, and they relaxed as soon as they recognized her. Phelan stepped up, bowing low before her.

“Order everyone to be ready,” said Kaita. “The trolls will attack soon. When they do, we shall fight beside them.”

“Of course, Commander,” said Phelan. “We are prepared to strike at a moment’s notice.”

“And the special team I tasked you with putting together?”

Phelan hesitated. “They, too, are prepared. Eleven of our best soldiers. They will infiltrate the keep and kill every Telfer they can.”

Kaita fixed him with a look. “You have doubts?”

“The Telfer keep is well defended, Commander. I worry for the success of their mission. But I have faith in your plan.”

“You should,” said Kaita. “I myself will be on that mission.”

His eyes widened. “That is too dangerous.”

“It is necessary,” said Kaita. “I know the keep. I know all of its secret ways, the passages in and out. Do not trouble yourself over my safety. The Telfers are the ones who should be worried.”

“As you say, Commander.” Phelan did an admirable job of trying to hide his doubt. He bowed again and left her.

Kaita spent a little while longer patrolling the camp, ensuring that everything was prepared and that her soldiers were ready for the battle. Finally she accepted that things were as prepared as they were going to be, and she made her way to a tent to sleep. But she lay awake a long time, staring at the top of her tent, fingers playing at her braid in the darkness and listening to the gentle nighttime sounds of the camp.

Close now. So close.

Maia led me back to my cell. But when we reached it, I found a surprise. Mag stood against the bars, her arms passed through them and her wrists manacled. Two guards were moving a mattress into the cell.

I looked at Mag. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she said, sounding almost disappointed. “Dryleaf said his cot was too hard for his old back. He asked for a softer mattress, and the guards would only provide it if I let them truss me up. I agreed for his sake.”

“And I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it,” Dryleaf piped up from the back of the cell. He sat on the cot, smiling broadly, as the guards wrestled the new mattress in and placed it on the floor to the right.

Mag studied my face. She must have noticed my red, puffy eyes, for she frowned. “You look a bit worse for wear. Did she hurt you?”

She had, of course, though not in the way that Mag meant. So I forced a chuckle. “We did not have a brawl in her chambers, if that is what you mean.”

“Hm,” said Mag.

Dryleaf found his way to his feet as he heard the guards retreating from the cell. He probed at the air, and when he found one of them, he patted her on the back. “Thank you again, very kindly. It is good to see that even in dire times, the hospitality of Calentin knows no bounds.”

“That is kind of you to say,” said the guard. She looked a little ashamed, as if she had not expected her duties to include imprisoning such an old and frail man.

“Not as kind as you have been,” said Dryleaf, his smile widening.

Once they had left the cell, I walked myself in. Maia shut the door behind me, and when I turned, I saw that he was eyeing me carefully. But he said nothing as the guards locked the door again, and he turned to go. The woman Dryleaf had spoken to went to unbind Mag’s wrists.

“Thank you for not making this difficult,” she said.

“Think nothing of it,” said Mag. “I told you it was for the old man’s sake.”

The guard smiled and unlocked the manacles. She glanced