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

revealed the tale’s great secret to her, there was no joy in his expression, none of the restrained smile of a skald who enjoys the reaction of his audience. There was only a profound mournfulness.

“I am saying what you think I am saying, but you are reluctant to hear it. Do you begin to understand now, Sun? That was the moment I learned a lesson I have been trying to impart to you all this time—not just today, but since we met in that tavern.

“Mag’s story, the legend that surrounded her, the impossibly grand tale of the Uncut Lady … it was never something we were meant to believe. It was a good story. It bolstered the spirits of all who knew her, and especially those who fought beside her. It made our lives grander to hear it, even if we doubted it was true. Because deep in our hearts, we knew it could not have been. And as you will see, the story itself was a protection of sorts. It hid a truth Mag did not wish to reveal.”

Sun felt lost in wonder. There were a thousand things she wanted to ask, but all her questions seemed limp and useless in the face of this knowledge.

She was surprised to find that she believed him without question. Often before this, she had doubted Albern’s tale, even though most of it seemed possible. This new revelation seemed entirely impossible, and yet she did not doubt it for an instant.

“Mag was never the person I thought she was,” Albern went on. “In some ways, she was less than the legends, and in other ways, she was more. Yes, she was an incredible fighter, but not as great as the stories made her out to be. She had suffered wounds. She had even died before. Many times. But she always came back. And with every death, she learned, and she became faster, and stronger, and even better in the next fight.”

“But … but how?” said Sun, finding her voice at last. “How is it possible? Where did she gain such power? And why?”

Albern fixed her with a look. “I know the answers to those questions. But I am not yet ready to give them. Can you accept that?”

Sun met his gaze for a long, silent moment.

“Yes.”

“Good,” said Albern. He sighed. “Then for now, let us return to that cold night in the rain.”

“Mag?”

I could only stare at her in wonder. I had no idea what under the sky was going on. Mag’s screams had subsided, but she still whimpered and groaned through clenched teeth. Her wounds were still stitching up, her body snapping itself back into shape. She was in agony. And what could I do about it? I could not even touch her without provoking a fresh cry of pain.

Her eyes focused for a moment, and then they found me. But she quickly turned away. “What are you doing here?” she gasped. The words were horribly mangled and garbled—her throat was not yet fully healed.

“What in the dark below do you mean?” I demanded. “I came after you, you absolute fool. What were you thinking, coming out here alone?”

“Why would I ask you to come?” she said. “Look at me. You would only have died.”

“And you should be dead,” I said. “Mag, what is—”

A horrible realization struck me. I seized Mag’s shoulder and hauled her over to lie on her stomach. She tried to resist, tried to grip my wrist and render me helpless, as she had countless times before. But beneath her sealing skin, her muscles were still horribly mutilated, and she had no more strength than a toddler.

Once she was lying facedown, I seized her hair and shoved it up, pulling it side to side. I inspected the back of her neck, and then, when I found nothing, I tried higher up on the scalp.

“There is nothing,” said Mag through gritted teeth. The muddy ground muffled her words. “Nothing, Albern, I swear.”

I ignored her and looked carefully for myself. But she was right. There was nothing. I rolled her back over, and she glared at me as she came to rest on her back again.

“This magic,” I said. “It is the enchantment of the Shades’ master. How did you come by it? How long have you had it?”

“I do not know,” she said, still clearly in pain, her teeth gritted.

“Do not lie to me, Mag!”

“I do not know, Albern!” she pleaded. “I have been … like this, since I could remember.”

“But … but why?” I said. “How did it start?”

“I do not know,” she said. “I have some … some vague, hazy memory of the middle of the woods, near that town called Shuiniu—the one I told you about, that was not far from Taitou. There I lived alone for many years, hunting for food in the forest. It was a long time before I met other people. I did not know how to speak when they found me. I only knew my name, and how to kill.”

Another chill went through me. “Mag. How long ago was that?”

She took a deep breath and met my gaze. “Twenty years before we met.”

Slowly I shook my head. “That is impossible. You were only twenty years old when we met, or around that age. Do not try to tell me you came out of the woods as an infant, already knowing how to fight.”

“No, Albern,” she said quietly. “I am telling you I came out of the woods like this. Exactly as I am now. In every way.”

I suddenly felt dizzy, and I sank back onto my rear in the mud.

Chausiku had seen it. He had told me, but I had laughed him off. He said she was far younger than I was, and I told him she aged well.

She did not age well. She did not age at all. She looked exactly the same now as she had when we met. But