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

a trickster. I do not like that. I do not like being led along a path I cannot see beneath my feet. But tonight, you and I did a good thing. I want to come with you, if you can promise that we will do more good in the nine kingdoms. I want to come with you, if you promise not to trick me into doing the right thing, but trust me to make the right decision.”

Albern gave her a long, careful look before answering. “I can promise both those things,” he said quietly. “One last time. Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” said Sun, and she realized it was true. She did not want to go home. The whole time she had been in this strange, foreign kingdom, she had been looking for some escape—some way to leave, and never have to return. Now that she had found such a chance, she would not turn her back on it.

“I am sure,” she said again. “The beginning of the story has been good. I want to hear the rest of it.”

Albern smiled his widest grin yet. “And I would be happy to tell it to you. Come on, then. Let us get moving. The road is long, and it always grows darker before revealing at last the sun.”

“As you say,” said Sun. “But as we go, please, carry on.”

Slowly, Albern nodded. “Until the tale’s true end.”

You did not think I forgot about Kaita, did you?

She was there, in Lan Shui, observing the three of us as we rode forth on horseback, Oku trotting beside us.

Kaita still mourned the deaths of Dellek and the other Shades. And for the sake of petty revenge, she wished the vampires had claimed more lives before Mag and I had destroyed them. But she had realized that we would never ride north for Calentin until the threat to Lan Shui had been ended, and so she had let it happen without interfering. And now, things were mostly going according to her plan again.

All except the old man. “Dryleaf,” he called himself. Kaita had not predicted him, and she feared there might be more to him than there appeared. So she had taken the form of a few of the folk of Lan Shui, and she had gone poking about, trying to see if the old man had some hidden agenda that had caused him to take up with us.

She had discovered nothing. It seemed he had joined up with us by sheer luck (if you believe in luck). Ever since he had arrived in Lan Shui, he   had taken no interest whatsoever in the great events of Underrealm. He was a fixture of the town, an elder who gave advice when he could and sang songs when he could not.

Indeed, the only thing Kaita had managed to learn was that he had not always been known as Dryleaf. Long ago, when he first came to Lan Shui, he had gone by another name, though the old one sounded just as nonsensical to Kaita.

After all, who ever heard of an old peddler named Bracken?

A warm sun rose, its crisp rays bathing Sun’s face, and with it came an unpleasant truth.

It is the day after I left my family.

It was hard to believe that only a scant few hours ago, she had fought a vampire. It was even harder to believe that she had won. Since then, she had had a few hours’ sleep before Albern had woken her to take the second watch. But despite having slept and woken already, she could not shake the thought that this had to be a dream. She was sure that soon she would wake again, the way she sometimes did in dreams, rising through layers of illusion before finally emerging into the waking world. Any moment now, she would find herself in the luxurious tent her parents’ servants had built for her, and hear Mother commanding her to get ready for another day’s ride with the caravan.

Yet here she remained, sitting against a tree just inside the edge of an unknown forest in western Dorsea. The dew beneath her felt real enough, as did the rough bark of the tree against which her head rested. A chill wind blew across her face, the last of the night’s cold wisping away with the coming of the day. It was almost too vivid to be real.

Had she made a mistake? Never had she entertained the thought of running away from her kin, except as the most passing flight of fancy. When the opportunity had presented itself, it had felt like the right thing to do, but now she was filled with doubt.

Albern stirred in his bedroll.

Sun looked over at him, watching his stubbled chin as it waggled, the old man murmuring as sleep began to creep away from him. Albern of the family Telfer, a figure of legend in his own right, and longtime companion of the mightiest warrior Underrealm had ever seen—if you believed the stories. And Sun found she did believe them, no matter how outlandish Albern’s claims seemed. Not only that, she wanted to hear the tale go on.

In the end, that might be all that matters, she told herself. You may have your doubts, but ask yourself: do you regret your decision?

She could not bring herself to say that she did.

Albern’s eyes opened. He lifted his head slightly, looking around as if disoriented. When he spotted Sun sitting by the edge of their campsite, he seemed to focus at last, and he gave her a little smile.

“Good morn,” he said, his voice a frog’s croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Good morn. No sign of danger while I slept?”

“There were many,” said Sun. “A pack of wolves arrived not an hour ago. I told them how old and bony you were, and