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

liquid. The sun’s final rays only gave it a few hints of any color, and that was a dark red. Beneath the cauldron burned a flame—a flame like Sun had never seen before, black instead of red, with the barest hints of blue and grey flicking at the top of it. A flame that seemed to draw light from the air rather than bestowing it.

“Dark below!” hissed Sun. “That is—”

“Please do be quieter,” said Albern.

“That is a cauldron of blood,” whispered Sun. “And is that … is that darkfire beneath it?”

“It is,” whispered Albern.

“Then those people are Shades?”

“No,” said Albern. “Not quite. But they have some idea of what the Shades were, and despite that, they are trying to emulate them.”

His gaze flicked back and forth across the scene before them. He was surveying the scene, taking stock of the people and the layout of their camp.

“Do … do you mean to fight them?”

“Fight might be a strong word,” said Albern. “But I do mean to stop them.”

“But there are so many. I have never fought in a battle before. I cannot defeat a dozen foes. And you …”

“Yes,” said Albern, shrugging his right shoulder to highlight his missing arm. “Not exactly the stalwart battle companion you might hope for.”

“Then you do not think we can defeat them?”

“Look there.” Albern pointed to a crate, close to both the cauldron and the campfire. “A guard on either side of it. And they are the only ones in the whole party who seem alert. I would wager that is where they keep the rest of their magestones.”

“We should tell the constables,” said Sun.

“Hm,” said Albern. “I have another idea. Let us get out of sight and wait until sundown.”

They slid back, away from the edge of the hill. Once they were out of sight, Albern rose and walked down the other side of the hill, Sun just behind him.

“The two of us cannot hope to win against them.”

He smiled back over his shoulder at her. “There are many ways to win. In Kahaunga, we were well outmatched by the trolls. Yet we had an advantage. One we did not yet realize.”

“An advantage?” said Sun.

“Oh yes. If you know something your foe does not, you always have an advantage. Let us get somewhere more private and have a bite to eat. We will take care of these conspirators at dusk. That should give us just enough time to finish this part of the tale. That is, if you want me to go on?”

Sun rolled her eyes and reached for the pouch of food at her belt. “You already know the answer, old man.”

After chasing Kaita out of the stronghold, Ditra and Mag returned to the council chamber. When she saw Maia lying dead at the foot of her chair, Ditra looked ready to collapse.

“He died bravely,” I murmured.

“Who cares for that?” said Ditra, her voice cracking.

She sank to sit on the stairs of her dais, and I sat close beside her. I wanted to ask about her daughter, but I could not quite bring myself to name her. Not yet. “Did you … did you and Mag …”

For a moment she only stared at Maia’s body, but at last she looked up. “We went after my daughter. Albern, I … I named her Vera. I wanted to tell you when … you should not have found out like that.”

“It is all right,” I said at once.

“I missed you,” she said, her voice cracking. “And I thought … after Romil, and Mother, and when you still did not return … I thought I would never see you again.”

“Ditra,” I said, reaching over and taking her shoulder. “It is all right. I am honored.”

She bowed her head. “Well. She is safe. The guards outside her room never even saw the commotion. Kaita may have had plans for her, but she had to abandon them after you showed up.”

“That is a comfort, at least.”

Ditra looked at Maia’s body. “I will call nothing a comfort today. Not today.”

Two of her ranger captains had been slain, and the other four had been wounded—two of them grievously. They had been carried off to be attended by healers. That left two in the chamber. They knelt beside Maia’s body like an honor guard, their heads bowed over him. Now they tried to rise, but they swayed as they did it.

“No,” snapped Ditra. “Sit. I will not have either of you fainting in my council chamber.”

The rangers settled back down at our feet, grateful looks upon their faces.

“Thank you, Rangatira.”

Ditra rose and went to her chair, bowing her head and covering her eyes with one hand. I looked to Mag, who stood a few paces off. Her expression was stony, but not emotionless. The battle-trance was gone. The look on her face was one of disappointment, of frustration at losing Kaita yet again.

“This is not over,” I told her.

“Well do I know it,” said Mag.

I nodded and looked up to Ditra. “If you still mean to hold council, might I fetch our friend, Dryleaf? He bears the wisdom of many years, and might have valuable advice.”

Ditra did not look up. “Why not? I seem now to have a dearth of councilors.” She looked up suddenly. “Where is the king’s representative?”

“The thin woman wearing robes of the king’s colors? Dead.”

“First to fall to the Shades,” growled one of the remaining ranger captains.

“Of course she was,” said Ditra. She waved a hand at me. “Go and fetch the old man.”

I bowed to her and went to retrieve Dryleaf. By the time I returned, Maia’s body had been removed from the council chamber. Servants had removed many skins from the floor that had been ruined with blood, and they were scrubbing at the stone beneath, trying to remove the stains. Dryleaf bowed low to Ditra with a fist on his forehead.

“Rangatira,” he said. “My most grievous condolences for your loss.”

“I thank you for them,”