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

could carry,” I told her. “It should see you at least halfway through Dorsea, though you shall need to stop for more supplies at some point.”

“We will stop as rarely as we can afford,” said Xain. “The fewer people who mark our passing, the better.”

“Once you are deep into Dorsea, I think the danger shall lessen. In the south their kingdom is preoccupied with the war, and in the north they remain as untroubled as ever at the goings-on of the nine lands.”

The boy, Gem, suddenly looked past my shoulder and frowned.

“Who is that man there?” asked Gem.

What could have told me that Gem had seen the first sign of a disaster that would shape not only his life, not only Loren’s, but mine, for years to come?

I turned and looked.

At the bar stood Len—Sten’s distant cousin I mentioned before. He and Mag spoke in hushed, hurried tones. Mag caught my eye and tossed her head at me. I went to her, and Loren came with me.

“Len, tell them,” said Mag.

Len pinched his nose and sniffed. “There is a man. He is wandering about the city, searching for a girl in a black cloak.”

You know, of course, that the Nightblade always wore a fine black cloak as one of her hallmarks. There was no doubt in our minds: this man, whoever he was, sought Loren. And I could think of no innocent reason why a stranger would come seeking for her here in Northwood.

Len read the reaction in our expressions. “Aye, that is what I thought when I heard,” he said. “Black cloak and remarkable green eyes, he asked for. Used that word, remarkable. Calls himself Rogan.”

Kaita followed Rogan through Northwood. Her fingers twitched, desiring to pull at her braid, but it was done up in a bun now. She and Rogan were not dressed in Shade colors. Kaita had on a dark skirt, easy to discard, over grey trousers and a fitted tunic of homespun white cloth with yellow trim. Rogan wore a plain outfit appropriate for a farmer or street vendor. But there was no hiding the sheer magnitude of him, nor the fact that, despite being unarmed, he looked and moved like a weapon. Everyone who saw him seemed afraid—as well they should have been.

“I know where the Lee Shore is,” said Kaita. “Let me go off and find it.”

“Not yet, please, Kaita,” said Rogan. “Before you strike, Loren must see me. That is very important.”

“Why?” growled Kaita. “And why did you not mention this when we were making our plans?”

“Our plan was for you to accompany me,” said Rogan. “I did not know you needed a reason, else I would have given it. Loren must see me because she must tell the High King and the Lord Prince about me.”

He kept speaking to passersby as they went, asking after a girl “with a black cloak and remarkable green eyes.” Everyone they spoke to claimed not to have seen her, but Kaita suspected many of them were lying. They looked upon Rogan with fear and distrust, and she had the feeling none of them would have revealed Loren’s location even if they knew it.

But of course, they did not truly need to ask where Loren was. She would be at the Lee Shore. Mag’s inn.

Kaita itched for the coming fight. She even considered slipping away from Rogan and going to the Lee Shore despite his wishes. The last time she had fought Mag, she had been foolish. She had tried to overpower the woman with sheer strength, but Mag was simply too fast. Kaita had learned. She was ready at last.

And then she saw us.

Mag and I had accompanied Loren into Northwood to see Rogan for ourselves. We came around a corner and froze stock still, our eyes fixed on him. I have told you already how fearsome and deadly he looked, and you must have heard stories of him before. So transfixed were we by the sight of him, we did not even notice Kaita standing at his elbow—not that I would have recognized her if I had seen her.

After a few moments, I pulled Loren back, and we retreated into the crowd again. Kaita jerked forwards, one hand outstretched and the other groping for Rogan’s arm.

“There!” she cried, pointing. “The girl is with them!”

Rogan’s gaze followed her outstretched finger. For one brief moment, he and Loren looked into each other’s eyes. And then we were gone.

“Perfect,” said Rogan, grinning. “She has seen me, and she knows the fear of my presence.”

“Then I am free to go after them?” said Kaita.

“Not yet.”

Kaita seized his arm and pulled him around to face her. “What do you mean? That is why I am here.”

“I said you were free to seek vengeance, as long as it does not interfere with the battle. I need you to fly west of here and order the attack. Then you may seek out Mag.”

She wanted to refuse him. She wanted to tell him to order the attack himself. But she knew, too, how much longer that would take, and what that might do to his plans. He had been there for her in some of the darkest times of her life. And despite her unfair words, he had never treated her as anything less than an equal. She could not refuse him this small service.

Still, she did not have to enjoy it. With a frustrated growl, she cast off her loose cloak. Then, right in the middle of the street, she turned. Her eyes filled with brilliant light, drawing the gaze of many in the crowd. They recoiled as her body shrank, her well-fitted clothes sinking into her skin, which soon erupted in black feathers.

In just a moment, it was done. A raven launched itself from the ground at Rogan’s feet. Kaita wheeled once in the air. Rogan stood looking up at her, a grateful smile on his handsome features. The townsfolk around him looked somewhat disquieted, even offended, for of