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

then we met the place’s owner, and his face more than made up for the building’s beauty. His forehead swooped down low over his eyes, which pointed in different directions, and his jaw was misshapen so that he looked to be constantly grimacing. His name was Nuhea, if I remember correctly, and he was a delight. He chuckled as we introduced ourselves.

“The name is for me, not the inn,” he said, lisping slightly. “For even ugly squirrels make their nests in beautiful trees.”

He took our orders for food and lodgings, summoning hands to care for our horses and carry our few belongings to our rooms. But I noticed him giving me little glances from the corner of his eye—or at least, I thought he did, for it was hard, sometimes, to tell where he was looking. I was somewhat unnerved, even though I knew there was precious little chance of the man recognizing me. In hindsight, I now think that Nuhea must have seen something of my mother in my features. He must have thought I looked familiar, though he could not place why.

In any case, we paid him for his trouble and retired to our rooms, where food was soon delivered to us. We ate quickly and readied ourselves for sleep—though Mag and I still traded watches through the night, just in case. Weary as we were, we had no wish to be surprised, on the off chance that we had been spotted entering the city.

It was our weariness, however, that kept us from noticing the woman who entered the inn just behind us. Her skin was pale and her hair was fair, though she hid both under a grey cloak. She watched as we dealt with Nuhea, she took note of the rooms to which he brought us, and then she slipped out into the night.

Kaita had been waiting for us in the stronghold of Maunwa not far away.

She had been there for some days. When we had ridden from Lan Shui, she had trailed us for a little while, stalking us in raven form, until she was sure we were heading for Opara as she had intended. Then she had cut straight across the countryside towards Calentin, bypassing the roads and traveling a long, harsh route through the wilderness. It had been taxing, but she was eager to reach the city far ahead of us.

But when she reached the Shades there, she found a nasty surprise. The old captain in the area had been given a new assignment. The new captain was a woman named Riri, and the hatred between the two women was thinly veiled, even in service of their Lord. For some days Kaita had been trying to get Riri to prepare for our arrival, but every council had devolved into an argument before long, and so they had barely gotten anything done.

Now Kaita sat in Riri’s council chamber again, bored nearly senseless, listening as two officers delivered reports of troop movements, of information and intelligence gathered about the constables, the Mystics, the Rangatira and his rangers. None of it mattered to Kaita. She had only one aim: to continue to lead Mag and me north, to the lands I had once called home. Just as Rogan had commanded her.

And then the door opened, and the woman with pale skin and fair hair entered the council room, casting back her hood.

Kaita looked up, every nerve in her body suddenly alight. The look on the woman’s face told her that her long wait was over.

“They are here,” said the woman. She nodded to Kaita. “The travelers matching the description you gave.”

“At last,” hissed Kaita.

Riri gave her a cool look for a moment before turning to the messenger. “Where are they?”

“The Ugly Squirrel. One room for all three of them. I have a contact there, we could strike—”

“We do not aim to kill them,” Kaita snapped. “Our job now is—”

“You are not in command here,” said Riri. Kaita scowled. She did not need the reminder; Riri had not let her forget it for so much as a moment since her arrival. Riri looked to the messenger once more. “Thank you. That will be all. The rest of you may go as well.”

The messenger nodded and left, and the two Shade officers at the table took their leave. Kaita waited in frustrated silence as they shuffled out of the room—too slowly, she thought, and she wondered if Riri had secretly given them an order to annoy her as much as possible.

When the room was finally empty, Riri studied her for a moment. Kaita said nothing. Riri liked to wait for Kaita to speak, and then interrupt her. It was just the sort of petty, vindictive trick she had always cherished—and she had used it often enough against Kaita in the last few days. And so Kaita remained quiet, refusing to give her the pleasure.

“Well?” said Riri at last. “What do you think they mean to do next?”

“They will look for me,” said Kaita. “We will have to watch them.”

“It is dangerous for my people to visit Opara too often,” said Riri. “The High King knows about us now. The nobility is on alert. We are only here to watch for Calentin troop movements. Our secrecy is more important now than ever.”

“You do not have to tell me that,” said Kaita. “I know Rogan means for us to remain in the shadows, for now. I was there in the room when he said it—and, too, when he commanded us to begin striking from those shadows.”

Riri’s hands clenched on the arms of her chair. Kaita wanted to smile, but she was smart enough to conceal it. Riri had never understood why Rogan kept Kaita so close. She had never understood that Rogan knew just how useful Kaita was, in a way no one ever had before.

Even those who had claimed to, when Kaita had been young.

“In any case,” said Riri,