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

is the same thing everyone says, until they are thrown headlong into a fight. Some see it coming. Others never do. Either way, they come out the other side a warrior, or they do not come out at all. After you have seen it happen enough times, you tend to pick up a gift for knowing the outcome in advance. I would not say you were a warrior in the making unless I believed it.”

A feeling like a cold weight settled in Sun’s chest. “I wish I could believe that were true.”

Albern gave her a long, searching stare. “Sun, why did you come into my tavern tonight?”

Sun avoided his gaze. “You have not asked me any questions about myself,” she said quietly. “You said it did not matter who I was before I walked through that door.”

“You do not have to answer,” said Albern.

The little clearing settled to silence. For a long moment, Sun planned to do as he suggested, and remain quiet. But then, almost without meaning to, she began to speak.

“Ever since the War of the Necromancer, my family has been dishonored. You know … well, everyone knows how it ended. And most know how we have been viewed for our part in that ending. Now everyone in my family seems obsessed with regaining our honor.”

She fell silent for a moment. Albern had not removed his gaze from her. His hood cast shadows over his angular face. “That is not such an evil wish,” he said quietly.

“Except that they seem more interested in having honor than in doing honorable things,” said Sun. “They no longer want to be viewed as traitors, as cheats, as faithless scoundrels. Yet none of them seem willing to see why we are seen that way. They think they can reclaim their status by building alliances, by strengthening our trade connections, by amassing more power. To me, it seems that such actions are what brought about our dishonor in the first place.”

“I would tend to agree with you,” said Albern.

“They want me to act like they do,” said Sun. “They want me to want what they want. But I … I do not. I would rather do good deeds unpraised than receive accolades I know I do not deserve. Does … does that make sense?”

“It makes all the sense in the world,” said Albern. “And if the opinion of an old man matters to you at all, I think you have the right of it, Sun of the family Valgun.” He leaned closer to the climbing flames. “I think I had better carry on. We are nearing the end of the tale.”

Sun balked. “We are?”

“Oh yes.”

Sun could not help herself; she pouted. “I suppose I have no one to blame but myself,” she grumbled. “I had harbored a hope … well, you told me you were not giving the tale of your arm, but I thought that might be a ruse. I thought mayhap you were going to surprise me and tell the story I really wanted.”

“No, I am afraid I spoke only the truth,” said Albern. “And despite what I have told you earlier tonight, it is all the truth, though it did not always seem that way.”

“What do you mean?” said Sun.

“What I am telling you now is the truth as I know it now,” said Albern. “I thought the story was somewhat different when I was living it. And afterwards, I thought it was something else again. Whenever I give you a tale, I try to tell the truest version of it that I know at the time.”

“Humph,” said Sun, holding her hands out towards the fire. “I still think I would rather read a history book.”

“Who are you going to believe?” said Albern, smiling slightly. “Some scholar from your family’s court, or the man who lived the tale?”

“If I were to heed a wisdom I have only recently learned, I would not believe any of it,” said Sun, feeling almost ashamed at how good it felt to say the words.

Albern laughed. “An excellent riposte. But I have only my tale. Shall I finish it?”

Sun nodded.

Just after sundown, Mag and I entered the Shades’ hideout and descended to the basement. We broke open a locked cabinet on the back wall and found several small packets of brown cloth. I untied one to find a collection of black crystals about as large as a finger. Magestones. Oku sniffed at them and growled.

“How many should we use?” I said.

“All of them,” said Mag.

I looked at her. “That might burn straight through the bottom of the cauldron.”

“I do not think we will have that long before the vampires reach us.”

“A heartening thought,” I said. “As you wish.”

We piled the magestones up under the cauldron and lit them. They caught the sparks easily, like dry leaves, but they burned with a black fire that immediately sucked light from the air. I hastily snatched my hands away from the flames.

“That will do it,” I said, edging backwards as waves of heat rippled across my body. “Let us return to the street.”

Together we ran up the stairs, weapons in hand, and stopped on the street outside. Mag stuck out a hand, and we gripped wrists.

“Let us become heroes,” she said.

“You have been one a long time,” I countered. “Tonight I might finally join you.”

“Fah.” Her grip tightened for a moment. “In earnestness—be careful. If you let yourself die, I may have to kill you.”

“And you as well,” I said. “Though I suppose you would have to let me.”

“I will,” she said. “But enough words. Climb, little squirrel.”

I headed around the side of the building. Oku started coming after me, but when he noticed Mag holding her position, he paused, looking between the two of us and whining.

“Kip, Oku,” I said. “Mag will need you more than I will, I think.”

“Kip, is it?” said Mag. “I will remember that when I want to get rid of him.”

I frowned at her until, with a disgusted expression, she