The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4)

by Garrett Robinson

  I heard the whistle of an arrow a blink before it struck Mag, too late to do anything about it. Too late for me, at least, but not for her. She whirled on the spot. Her cloak billowed around her with the movement, and the arrow passed harmlessly through it.

  “Down!” I cried, flinging myself behind a boulder that jutted out of the ground, its bottom half embedded deep in the earth. Oku yelped and pressed against my legs. But no sooner had I hit the dirt than I spotted a flash above me. Sunlight reflecting on metal. Without thinking, I threw myself down and rolled.

  An arrow splintered against the rock. If I had been a moment slower, it would have struck me in the chest.

  I came up ready to fire. My shaft sped for where I had seen the archer above me. But they were too wily, and had already hidden themselves. My arrow passed futilely through the air.

  “Agh!”

  Tuhin cried out as an arrow impaled their right shoulder. I spared them only a glance before looking wildly around.

  The archer who had fired at me had been opposite the one who shot at Mag. They were in a half-circle that wrapped around us, and we could find little cover out here, despite the boulders. For a mad moment, I thought of running for the fort, but that would put us in open ground long enough for them to fill us with arrows. I looked around desperately.

  There. A small depression, not quite a cave, in the side of the hill nearby. It would block vision from above.

  I sprinted for Tuhin and seized them by the back of their shirt. Ignoring their grunt of pain, I dragged them towards cover. Oku came pelting after us, whining.

  “Chao!” I cried over my shoulder.

  Mag had been peeking out from behind a boulder, looking for a way to approach the archers above. She glanced over, saw what I was doing, and ran to join us.

  “Dark below,” I grunted, releasing Tuhin once we were in the half-cave.

  “Thank you,” they gasped, seizing their wound and squeezing to keep it from bleeding.

  “Save your gratitude until we survive this, if we do,” I told them. “Do you have bandages?”

  “Here.” They drew them from a sack at their belt.

  I snapped off the arrowhead and pulled the shaft out of the wound. Tuhin grunted in pain, but they kept their wits and handed me the bandages. I wrapped them around the shoulder, and Tuhin helped me hold them in place until I was done. When I finished, they sighed in relief and leaned back against the cool earth.

  “Again, thank you.”

  I stepped away from them to take stock of our situation. In the half-cave, the Shades could not see us. But neither could we see them, and we could not step out to shoot at them. I had an arrow nocked, but it felt useless between my fingers. My mind whirled, trying to devise a strategy.

  “These friends of your weremage are ready for a fight,” said Tuhin with a grim smile.

  I snorted. “Fortunately, so are we.”

  “I should have been more watchful,” said Tuhin, wincing against the pain of their wound. “I grew lax after we left Opara.”

  “You were the only one who thought anything was wrong on the road here,” I pointed out. “You and Oku. I should have been less moonstruck by the fireglass and the trench. But this is no time for blame. We must—”

  “Stay alive,” barked Mag.

  Before I could even look at her in surprise or ask what she meant, she ran out into the open. Oku gave a sharp bark and ran after her. I reached for them both with a cry.

  But though arrows came streaking for them, they missed. Of the two that would have struck Mag, she caught one on her shield. The other passed through her cloak, and I gasped, certain it had pierced her side. But she ripped it from the cloth and flung it on the ground—it had rebounded from her armor. She darted out of sight, Oku hard on her heels.

  “What under the sky is she doing?” gasped Tuhin. “There are at least a dozen of them. We need to flee, not fight!”

  “That is not how Chao prefers to go about things,” I said, shaking my head. “But as tempting as it is to let her take care of them, I cannot allow her to fight alone. There was a tree not far from the stronghold. I am going to sprint for it. It is close enough to the trench that I will have one direction, at least, from which they cannot fire at me. While I give you cover, you must try to go in the same direction as Chao. You can lose yourself in the hills.”

  “I will go with you,” said Tuhin. “I can still run, and I might draw arrows away from you.”

  “I can do it alone.”

  “Of course you can,” said Tuhin, and they sprinted into the open air.

  “Dark take you!” I cried, sprinting after them.

  They kept their lead, and the two of us dodged and weaved, taking sudden turns to try and confound the archers. Arrows hissed all around us. One found Tuhin before we reached the tree, but it merely stuck in their cloak.

  We fell to the ground on the tree’s other side. It was a thick oak with high branches, and for a moment I simply sat there, panting and pressing the back of my head against the rough bark. At last I risked a glance out. I ducked back at once, as five arrows streaked through the air towards me. Three stuck into the tree, the other two embedding themselves in the ground near our feet.

  “Only five arrows,” I said. “Chao has been busy. We should help her finish the job.”

  “That shall fall to you, I am afraid,” said Tuhin, pointing to their shoulder with a rueful smile. “Unless you think I should throw arrows at them with my good arm.”

  “As amusing as that would be, I think not.”

  Quickly notching an arrow, I darted around the other side of the tree and fired at the last place I had seen one of our foes. Her head popped into sight, but a heartbeat too late, and I missed. She fell back behind cover again, and I did the same—but then I froze as I heard a scream from her location.

  I risked another glance out. There she was—Mag, standing just in the spot where I had fired my arrow. She had plunged her spear down where I could not see it, but when it came up again, it was red with the blood of the woman I had tried to shoot. I heard a furious barking from Oku, and then Mag vanished.

  “Sky bless and dark take her, both at once,” I muttered, as I hid once more.

  “Chao?” said Tuhin.

  “She killed another one. Mayhap more. I think I am going to try to draw their fire again, to give her as much opportunity as I can.”

  “There are many rocks close by, and I think they are far enough away from the hills. We should mayhap run for one.”

  I nodded. “One. Two. Three. Four!”

  We pelted out from behind the tree. But only two arrows came streaking down this time. Sky above, I thought, did Mag kill that many already? I struck the ground hard, groaning as my ribs slammed into the rock I had hidden behind, and I heard Tuhin grunt as they did the same several paces away.

  From the edge of my vision, I had taken note of where one of the arrows came from. I drew, leaped up, and fired. This time the arrow flew true. A man in a blue cloak appeared just in time to take the shot in the eye. His head jerked back, fletching protruding from the socket, and he toppled out of sight.

  “One!” I called out, hiding again. “At least Chao is not having all the fun.”

  “You two have very odd ideas about your entertainment,” said Tuhin, and I gave a shout of laughter.

  Footsteps.

  They came pounding across the turf, running from the pathway through which we had emerged. From the sound of them, they were making for the stronghold. Mag? No, the steps sounded too light.

  I risked a look out. A young woman in a grey cloak was sprinting for the gate. I looked up at the surrounding hills. No shots came flying towards me.

  Dropping my bow, I broke from cover and ran after the woman.

  She was panicked, her dark skin flushed with exertion and fear. She did not hear me until I was almost upon her. At the last moment I leaped, and only then did she begin to turn to see me. I struck her hard in the side, and she crashed
to the ground with me on top of her.

  Her hand darted for a knife at her belt. I seized her wrist with one hand and struck her in the face with the other. It dazed her for a moment, and her head lolled to the side. I drew the knife and threw it away before flipping her over to lie on her face, dragging her arm behind her back and holding her immobile. With my free hand, I patted her waist and boot to make sure she was not hiding another weapon.

  “I think it is over, Tuhin,” I called out. “Help me secure her.”

  Tuhin emerged into the open, though they still walked hunched over, darting from rock to rock. When no more arrows were forthcoming, they straightened at last and came over.

  “Here,” they said, drawing a pair of iron manacles from a pouch at their belt. These they clamped around the woman’s wrists, securing them behind her back. Together we hauled her to her feet. The woman’s eyes were wild, and they darted about frantically, seeking some means of escape. Her shoulder-length hair swung across her face with her movements, though it could not entirely obscure the sizable birthmark that covered her left cheek.

  “None of that,” I told her. “I am afraid your time here is over. Please do not make more trouble than you already have. I would hate to have to sling you over the back of my horse as we ride back to the city. I have seen a long journey made that way once, and it was most uncomfortable.”

  “I have done nothing,” the woman said. Her voice was low, but thin, and it shook with terror.

  “Nothing lasting, though not for lack of trying,” I said. “But you shot my friend here, or one of your companions did. Tuhin, what penalty do you think the Rangatira will mete out for such a thing?”

  “Oh, imprisonment and hard labor would normally be enough,” said Tuhin, raising their brows. “But then, I am a representative of the King’s law. The punishment for that shall be much more severe.”

  “Dark below, you are frightening the poor girl,” called Mag.

  I turned. She had just emerged from the path. Oku padded at her heels, looking up at her and whining. A great deal of blood had spattered across Mag’s clothes, and she had her hands on another one of the Shades. This one had her blue hood cast back, and her hair was wild as she struggled and jerked in Mag’s grip.

  And I knew her.

  The woman Mag had captured was a noble—or at least, she had been. Her family lived in Opara. They had served the Rangatira when last we had met, far back in my youth. I struggled to remember her name. Riri, that was it. And yet there was no trace of recognition in her eyes.

  Shock and a flood of memories caused me to slacken my grip. The woman I was holding noticed it, and she bolted towards the stronghold, her arm tearing out of my hands. But with her arms bound tightly behind her, she could hardly hope to outpace me. I caught up after only a few paces, catching her and wrestling her to the ground once again. It was only when I looked up that I realized we were hardly a pace from the edge of the trench, and spans of empty air stretched before us to the hard ground far below.

  “Careful,” I told her. “You almost went over. And if you are not cooperative with my friend, she may pitch you over regardless.”

  “Are you all right there, Kanohari?” said Mag. She drew nearer, her hand firmly clutching Riri’s arms behind her back. “I caught one on my own. I thought you would be able to handle another, with help.”

  “Cease your boasts,” I told her. “Are there any more hiding out there?”

  “None,” said Mag. “I accounted for all of them. There were twelve. Only these two remain. I left this one alive because she is in charge.” She hefted Riri’s arms up, bringing her slightly off the ground, like a prize on display. Riri snarled and made a fresh break for freedom, but she could not budge with Mag holding her. “I heard her giving orders. The one you are holding escaped while I was killing one of her fellows, and I trusted you would catch her.”

  “Assuming your faith is genuine, I appreciate it,” I told her.

  I noticed something odd. Oku had remained close by Mag’s side. He kept nuzzling her leg, as though checking to make sure she was all right, and small whines issued from his throat. Mag ignored him.

  “Well, now to get them both back to Opara,” said Tuhin. They pulled out another pair of manacles and went to bind Riri.

  “There is one problem,” said Mag, as Tuhin did their work. “I saw no sign of the weremage.”

  “There is more than one problem,” said Tuhin. When we blinked in surprise, they gave us both a stern look. “These are Shades.”

  I did my best to look shocked. “These two?”

  “And their companions,” said Tuhin. “They wear blue and grey, which we have been told are the Shades’ colors. And something tells me you are not quite as surprised by this news as you are trying to appear.”

  Mag shrugged. “How could we know? The weremage dwelled long in Tokana. We had no reason to suspect her involvement with them.”

  “Hm,” said Tuhin. “Or mayhap you thought the Rangatira would not let you join the hunt, if he knew you were in fact hunting Shades.”

  Mag’s expression of innocence was perfect. “Would he not?”

  “Hm,” said Tuhin again. Then they rolled their eyes. “Since we have, in fact, cleared out a hidden stronghold of Shades, I suppose I have done my duty, and I need not press the matter.”

  “We thank you,” I said. “But we are, in fact, after the weremage, and that mystery remains. Unless she is one of these two.”

  It was only then that I realized Riri had gone very quiet. She looked no less enraged, but she had stopped trying to pull away from Mag. Her eyes went from Tuhin to Mag, and then to me, calculating, assessing.

  “I think that if she was disguised as one of these two, she would have taken a more dangerous form already, trying to kill us,” said Mag.

  “You cannot be sure,” said Tuhin. “And you have forgotten someone else.” They gave a small smile.

  I frowned at them. “Who is that?”

  “Me,” said Tuhin. “You lost sight of me for a moment there. It would have been easy for her to replace me, if she was nearby, and watching. If you are going to hunt a weremage, you must always be alert, and never trust anyone—least of all the ones you feel certain about.”

  An uneasy feeling crept through me. “But if you were her, you would never tell us this.”

  “Unless it were part of a grander ploy,” said Tuhin, raising their brows. “I could be luring you into a false sense of peace. Why, after this, I imagine the two of you would march me straight to the Rangatira, where I might be able to strike him down.”

  “Except the Rangatira has his own wizards to detect that sort of thing,” said Mag.

  Tuhin gave an exasperated look. “But the weremage might not know that, and I rather wish you had not mentioned it in front of the prisoners.”

  Oku pulled his attention away from Mag for a moment and trotted to Tuhin. Tuhin knelt to greet him, and Oku sniffed at their wounded shoulder. He gave it one brief lick and then went back to Mag, whining at her again.

  “Oku seems to trust you,” I said.

  “I could fool him, too, if I were particularly skilled at magic,” said Tuhin. “There is only one way to ensure we know who the weremage is.”

  “Please,” interjected the younger Shade woman in my grip. Her eyes had begun to brim with tears. “I only served them for the coin, I do not—”

  “Shut your mouth, girl,” said Riri harshly.

  “This is ridiculous,” said Mag, looking annoyed. “The weremage would never tell us everything you have.”

  “They are masters of deception,” said Tuhin.

  “They are not the weremage!” said the younger girl, tossing her head at Tuhin. “She left!”

  “Hoko!” cried Riri.

  “She might have appeared to leave, but remained behind,” said Tuhin. “You would never know, girl. There is only one way to tell for certain.”

  “What is it?” I said. “Though I suppose you will tell us,
and then tell us that we cannot trust what you have told us, because you could be the weremage.”

  “You are getting the idea now,” said Tuhin, grinning broadly.

  They came towards me and the younger Shade—Hoko, she had been called. She recoiled, but Tuhin ignored it.

  “There are two points just behind the temple,” they said, pointing to their own head. “Just here, where the skull dips. As I understand it, the magic passes through there, no matter what form the weremage takes. And if you strike them—”

  They lunged forwards, striking with their uninjured hand in a chopping motion. Hoko reeled under the impact. But nothing happened—no glow in the eyes, and no shifting of her form. Tuhin strode towards Riri next.

  “Do not touch me, kingsworn scum,” snarled Riri.

  But Mag held her still, and Tuhin struck her just as they had done to Hoko. Riri grunted at the blows, but again, nothing happened.

  “That is most interesting,” said Mag.

  Then she moved almost faster than I could see. First she shoved Riri in my direction, and I caught the woman’s arm in surprise. Mag struck Tuhin twice, once in each temple, before I realized what had happened. Tuhin nearly fell over from her strikes, but somehow they kept their feet. Their gaze looked unfocused for a moment.

  “Yes,” they said weakly. “Just like that.”

  “Chao!” I said indignantly.

  “No, she was quite correct to do so,” said Tuhin, raising a hand. “I could have been the weremage, and I could still be, if I have been lying. You should bind my hands for the journey home.”

  “I will keep you close,” said Mag. “You will not escape us unless I want you to. Assuming you are, in fact, Tuhin, where did you learn this skill?”

  “I was never a Mystic, but I have served alongside them many times,” said Tuhin. “This is a trick I learned from their mage hunters.”

  Suddenly a memory came to me. I, too, had traveled with a Mystic—Jordel, who had also been a mage hunter, once. I had seen him do something I would have called impossible, if I had not seen it myself. He pressed his fingers to the temples of Xain, the wizard, and forced him to use his firemagic.