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

“Yes,” said Mag. “But the brown one is an idiot. He is so stupid, my friend named him Foolhoof.”

Liu giggled. It sounded as if the noise had been pulled from him against his will. “What about the grey one?”

“Her name is Mist. She is much smarter, and she loves children. Would you like to meet her?”

Liu gave a tentative nod, and Mag rose at last to her feet. I feared Oku would be startled by her movement, but the hound accepted it easily enough. It trotted behind her as she went to Liu and reached out. The boy took her hand and let her lead him to the horses, who had begun to drift off. I noticed that Oku seemed to be limping a bit as he walked by Mag’s side.

“Here, boy,” I said, walking over to him. Oku paused and looked up at me, his wide eyes glistening. I knelt by his side and extended a hand, slowly, towards his left rear leg. Oku tensed, but I kept my movements slow, and he let me take the leg. Part of the fur was matted, and probing it gently with my fingers, I felt a light cut.

“He has been hurt,” I said, looking up at Liu.

“The monster did that,” said the boy. “Oku tried to fight it, but it hurt him.”

“I have some things in my saddlebag for that,” I said, rising and going to Foolhoof. The gelding looked at me suspiciously, but he stood still as I opened a saddlebag. From it I drew some dried yarrow, crushing it in my fist and mixing it with some water from my skin. I returned to Oku and spread it on the cut. The wolfhound submitted to my ministrations, though he whined about it.

“Do not hurt him,” said Liu, frowning.

“It stings a bit, but it will help the wound heal,” I said.

“Liu,” said Mag. “Did you see anything after you ran into the woods? We want to make sure no one else gets hurt.”

The boy went silent for a long moment and avoided our gazes. But finally he nodded. “I saw the monster afterwards. It came from that direction, and it left the same way.” He pointed towards the trees in a northwesterly direction.

I went that way, leaving Foolhoof behind me. Sure enough, right where Liu had pointed, there were tracks on the ground. They were not human, that I knew. Each step had torn deep gouges in the dirt, and I thought of the clawed limbs that vampires were said to have. It also seemed to run on all fours.

“I have it,” I told Mag. “It will be an easy trail to follow.”

“Thank the sky,” she said. “Let us get them back to town quickly. We should be able to return with plenty of time to follow it before night comes.”

Mag hoisted Liu up into the saddle before her. The boy seemed delighted to be riding atop a horse. I would have wagered that he had never been on one before. Oku ran by our side, and despite the wound in his leg, he kept pace with our horses’ trotting easily enough.

We rode away from the homestead, careful to keep Liu on the northern side of the clearing, where he would not see the pyre upon which his parents’ and brother’s corpses had been burned.

Albern drew his horse to a halt. Sun walked another few paces before she realized the old man had stopped, and she hastily returned to him.

“What?” said Sun. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing at all,” said Albern. “We have arrived.”

Sun, who had become lost in the story again, blinked hard and looked around. They stood in a clearing in the woods, a good distance southwest of the town. She had a vague memory of Albern leading her off the main road and down the side path that took them here, but she had hardly noticed at the time. Above them was a rise in the land, and not far away was a cave with a deep, black mouth. It seemed somehow to loom over them in the night. Moonslight let her see only a few paces within the entrance.

“Would you help me start a fire?” said Albern amiably after dismounting. “I can manage it, but it is somewhat harder.”

“Of course,” said Sun. “Do you have flint?”

“Naturally,” said Albern, pulling it from a pouch at his belt. As Sun collected dry leaves and twigs for kindling, Albern went to the trees and pulled down a few small branches to get the fire going. But when he had returned with those, he went to a small hollow nearby and retrieved some larger logs that looked to have been cut with an axe.

“Those were here already,” said Sun. “You have been here before.”

“I have,” said Albern. “Just today. I told you I planned to come here tonight.”

With Sun’s help, he laid the logs in a crossing pattern. When it was done, Sun took a knife from her boot and struck flint to it, sending sparks across the leaves. They caught easily, and in no time a merry fire burned before them.

“How did the boy survive?” said Sun as Albern worked.

“It was only a few days.”

“A few days without food is long enough to be perilous for one so young,” she said. “A few days without water will kill anyone.”

“There was a stream in the woods that his family would drink from, and he went there on occasion,” said Albern. “I think it is likely he collected some roots and berries, too, for his parents would have told him if any were safe to eat. But more than that, do not underestimate the will to live. Even in a child, it can be strong enough to pull us through times of great peril. You would not enjoy a few days without food or water, but I imagine you would survive them.”

Sun found a nearby branch to use as a poker, and