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

the blood in a flash. It rushed up King’s arms and legs, its torso, all covered in the black liquid. The creature’s screams were terrible. It writhed, but that only sent it splashing through more blood, through more flame. The darkfire consumed it, its body bubbling and popping, sick, hot, wet spurts of fat and gristle sizzling across the room, splashing in the flaming blood, sending it flying up in little sparks.

“Come on,” said Mag. She hauled me to my feet and helped me across the room, careful to give the flames a wide berth. We found Yue collapsed at the bottom of the opposite wall.

“Is she alive?” I said.

“We have to hope so,” said Mag. “But I cannot carry you anymore, for I will need your help with her.”

I took my arm from Mag’s shoulders, and between the two of us we hauled Yue up. She did not stir or groan, but I did not have the time to check for breath or a heartbeat. We merely held her between us, her arms across our shoulders, the way we had hauled so many wounded fellows from battlefields in our youth.

The stairs were difficult to navigate, carrying Yue as we were. When we reached the top, we saw that we had almost been too late. The whole house was consumed in flames, so thick that we almost could not push through them to reach the street again. But we managed it, bursting out through the flames to the shock of the many frightened onlookers, most of whom had to have assumed we were dead already. Oku gave great leaps as he bounded around us, baying with joy and terror.

“Back!” I said. “Someone get me water!”

We laid Yue down between us, and I fumbled with the straps of her armor. Ashta appeared, helping me. We got Yue’s armor off, and I pressed my head to her chest, listening desperately, trying to feel the rise and fall of her breath.

And then at last …

Pa-pump. Pa-pump.

“Get. Off me,” groaned Yue.

I fell back on my rear, closing my eyes and heaving a deep sigh of relief. “Thank the sky.”

“Here, Sergeant,” said Ashta, relief nearly causing her to drop the waterskin. “Drink this.”

“Lift her head,” said Mag wryly, “or she will drown instead of burning alive.”

She had fetched her singed cloak from the house on our way out, and now she fashioned it into a pillow for Yue. The constable drank deep of Ashta’s water, until finally she pushed it away, sputtering and coughing.

“Are you all right?” I asked her.

“I am alive,” she said. “That is more than I think I should expect. The vampire?”

“We killed it,” I told her. “Something we could not have done without you.”

“I am not proud to have been mere bait, but I suppose I am the only one who had the courage for it,” said Yue.

“Certainly, it is something I have never volunteered for,” I told her.

Yue snorted. “Of course not.” Then her countenance grew stern, and she held my gaze. “In all earnestness, thank you for your help. And, I suppose, for saving my life.”

“Oh, constable,” I said, grinning at her. “You cannot think we did that for you. I have it on the very best authority that corpses are simply a nightmare to take care of. The paperwork alone.”

Her brows drew together. “I could still arrest you. Both of you.”

I patted her shoulder gently. “You are welcome to try.”

Some of the townsfolk who had skill at healing had been summoned, and they came forwards to care for her now. I stood and went to Mag’s side. Oku was with her, but she paid him no attention. She had turned from us, and now she stood surveying the Shades’ hideout as it burned. Some of the townsfolk had set up a watering line, passing buckets from hand to hand and dousing the nearby buildings to ensure they did not catch alight. But the flames seemed to be self-contained, and there was no wind. The night’s danger looked to be well and truly over.

“The blood,” I said. Mag did not look at me, so I pressed on. “How did you know about the blood?”

“We all should have known,” she said lightly, free from the battle-trance. “From the moment we read their notes. The process infused the blood with magestone essence, remember? I have never seen a substance that catches fire more easily than magestone.”

I shook my head. “It was a guess. You risked all our lives on that strategy.”

“It was the only idea we had,” said Mag. Then at last she turned to me, and a wide grin was plastered across her face. “And what are you complaining for? It worked.”

I laughed at that. “I cannot argue with you there.”

Wordlessly we embraced, clutching each other tight in the light and warmth of the flames. And in that moment, for one brief instance, I felt as though Mag—the old Mag, the one I had known since we were both young—held me in her arms, and that she would never leave my side again.

The fire was put out eventually, but long after we had already gone to bed. We tried to stay up and help the townsfolk, but they insisted we return to our inn and rest. Ashta, who Yue had deputized until she had recovered, was particularly insistent. When we finally returned to the inn, Dryleaf was nowhere to be seen. We were too tired to search for him that night, and went straight to bed.

We woke the next morning well past dawn. In fact, when I looked out the tiny window of our room, it looked as if even noon had passed us by. It is possible there were some parts of my body that did not hurt, but I could not have told you what they were. Every motion made me groan like an old man.

Mag, sky bless her, seemed fine. She moved lightly on her feet, and