Yerrin: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 6)

by Garrett Robinson

  “What of the attackers?”

  “At least one still remains, Your Grace. You must stay here until we have confirmed the palace is secure.”

  Wojin gave an exasperated sigh. “This gambit was foolish. I told that Yerrin woman often enough. And she is not even here to face the same danger as the rest of us!”

  Damaris, thought Loren. She has left, then. Mayhap it is time for me to go, as well.

  Her gaze came to rest on Wojin.

  Or mayhap not.

  Loren burst through the door into the room. Wojin shot to his feet, and the guards went to draw their swords. But Loren struck before they could, kicking over the lamp. It was not complete darkness, for the window let some torch light in, but it was enough for her purposes.

  One guard fell to a punishing blow from her dagger’s hilt. The other only managed two swings before Loren brought him down. The advisor screamed and ran for the door, but Loren tackled him, then slammed his head into the floor to knock him senseless.

  But no killing, she thought. There has been enough of that tonight.

  Loren rose to her feet. “Wojin,” she said. “What a pleasure to meet you face to face.”

  “Assassin,” gasped Wojin.

  “No,” said Loren, shaking her head. “But I have killed Gregor tonight, and you are utterly at my mercy. Yet I was told, a long time ago, that not needlessly does the family Yerrin kill. And the Nightblade has at least that much honor.”

  Wojin swallowed hard. She watched the bulb in his throat bounce up and down. “What … what do you mean to do with me, then?”

  “Silence you, for one thing.”

  She cut a gag out of the drapes and tied it around his mouth. Then she bound his hands before leading him out to the balcony. Once he was up against the railing, she shoved him in the shoulder blades. Wojin screamed into his gag as he fell, but she caught him by the ankles. Loren lowered him as far as she could, then dropped him to the rooftop below so that he fell on his shoulder. He grunted in pain. Loren jumped down beside him, then forced him up and back towards the palace. She bundled him in through a lower window.

  “We are going to your dungeons,” she said. “If you try to signal for help, I will make you regret it.”

  Wojin nodded in fear—but she saw a crafty shine in his eye. The dungeons would be guarded, and they would not be easy to escape from. That was the point, after all. No doubt he hoped he could trick her into trapping herself there.

  Good. It would keep him thinking he had a way out of this.

  The maps of the palace were still somewhat clear in her mind. She knew she was on the southwest end of the palace, and the dungeons were close by. She only needed to find a way leading down …

  There. She shoved Wojin into a stairwell, barely catching him before he fell to the landing below. When they were near the bottom, she stopped and knelt, tying Wojin’s feet as she had tied his hands.

  “Do not move,” she said. “I will return for you in a moment.”

  She ducked around the final turn in the stairs. Behind her, she heard Wojin start to struggle immediately. That was fine. He would not free himself before she was done.

  There was a guard room before the door that led to the dungeons themselves. In the room sat a man in palace livery. He shot to his feet when Loren entered, giving a cry of alarm. Loren threw a dagger into the hand that reached for his sword, then subdued him with two quick strikes to the face. He slumped to the floor, groaning.

  His belt held a ring of keys. She removed them and went back for Wojin. His bonds were not even loosened yet. He moaned in fear as she hauled him up and shoved him into the guard room. She unlocked the first door and walked him down the line of cells, peering inside.

  There. A cell of healthy prisoners, clearly not here for very long. Their hair was cut short, and they were well-muscled and healthy.

  “You there,” said Loren. “Are you palace guards?”

  One of the prisoners peered up at her, blinking. “What?”

  “Palace guards. Did you serve in the palace?”

  “I … did,” said the man. “Who are you?” Then he noticed Wojin, bound and with Loren’s arm around his neck. His eyes shot wide.

  “Yes, it is him,” said Loren. “I am looking for someone. Morana, of the family Fei. Where is she?”

  “I am Morana,” said a voice.

  Loren turned. The cell across the hall held still more prisoners. One of them, a woman with her hair cut almost to her scalp, stood before the bars. She studied Loren with keen, severe eyes. Eyes Loren had seen before, in the face of Duris Fei.

  Loren reached up and ripped out Wojin’s gag. “Tell them what you did.”

  “I do not know what you speak of,” said Wojin desperately.

  Loren’s dagger slid free, and she pressed the tip to his throat. “Not needlessly will I kill. But neither will I be gentle. Tell them what you did to King Jun.”

  Wojin gasped, trying to struggle away from the dagger. “I killed him,” he whispered.

  “Louder!”

  “I killed him!” cried Wojin. “I took the palace by force, but he and his son escaped. But I found them after, and my soldiers killed Jun.”

  Loren pressed harder. The dagger pricked the skin of his throat, and Wojin squeaked. “And tell her what happened to Duris.”

  “We learned—Damaris learned that she was conspiring with King Jun,” said Wojin, nearly weeping now. “We … we killed her.”

  Loren pressed just a bit harder. “Tell them everything. Tell her how Duris died.”

  “Damaris put her to the question!” cried Wojin. “She tortured her for information before cutting her throat.”

  Morana had gone very still, her fingers wrapped around the iron bars of her cell. She met Loren’s gaze.

  “Do you know who else in this dungeon is loyal to Jun?” said Loren.

  “I do,” said Morana, her tone clipped.

  Loren removed her dagger and threw Wojin to the floor, where he crumpled in a heap. She opened Morana’s cell and handed her the ring of keys. “Get them all out. Take care of this thing.” She spat at Wojin’s form on the floor. “I will send help as soon as I can. Senlin still lives. He will return to give you orders. Can you hold out until then?”

  “We can,” said Morana. But as Loren turned to go, she reached out and seized her wrist. “You did all this?”

  Loren met her gaze for a moment. “Not on my own,” she said softly. “Many people died to return the true king to the throne. See that their sacrifice was not in vain.”

  Morana nodded slowly. Loren turned and ran up the stairs, back into the palace.

  HER KIDNAP OF WOJIN HAD thrown the guards into disarray. It was easy enough to find another rooftop to sneak away on, and when she found a side wall leading out, no guards were there to block her path. She climbed down the wall and made her way into the streets of the city.

  Without Kerri to guide her, it took a great deal longer to find Kal’s inn than it might have otherwise. But in the end, she found it all the same. When she approached the side door leading to the basement, the Mystic on guard moved to stop her at first. But when he caught sight of Loren’s face, he gasped and stepped back. Loren ignored him, throwing open the door and descending into the room.

  “Loren!”

  Gem screamed as he flung himself into her arms. Annis was only a half-step behind him, and then came Kerri. They huddled around her, holding her close, the children crying.

  None of them paid the least bit of attention to the blood soaking Loren’s clothes. But in the end, Loren pulled back. It would be a while, she guessed, before she felt that these clothes were truly clean again, and she did not wish to sully her friends with them.

  Someone had summoned Kal, and he came huffing into the room. He stopped dead when he saw Loren, staring at her for a moment in shock. Loren fixed him with a grim smile.

  “Hello, Grand Chancellor. You seem surprised to see me.”

  “I …” he swallowed
and forced the awe from his expression. “The boy and the girl returned, but from what they said … I did not know if you would.”

  “Yet here I am.”

  “Were they right?” said Kal. “Jormund?”

  “Dead, with all his soldiers,” said Loren. “But I captured Wojin. He is in the hands of Jun’s loyalists in the prison. You must get all the warriors under your command and help them take the palace, as quickly as you can.”

  No doubt it grated Kal to hear her give such orders, but he had the good sense to hide it for the moment. She could see the amazement in his expression. He had likely never expected her to succeed. Loren did not think he had sent her to her death, not intentionally. But she had only been a tool to get his assassins within reach of their target. No doubt he was surprised at her success when all his Mystics had perished.

  “Yes, well …” he said. “Good. Worse than I had hoped, but better than I feared. I shall … I shall act at once. Excuse me.”

  “Of course. I shall be waiting to give you a more complete report, when you are ready.” Loren allowed herself the small pleasure of waving him away. He scowled at that, but he went, going back to his room to give the orders.

  Loren had lied, of course. She would not be waiting for him.

  She ushered Gem and Annis towards one of the rooms they shared. Inside, they found Wyle. He sprang to his feet the moment the door opened, his face going ashen when he saw Loren.

  “Nightblade,” he said. “You survived.”

  “I did,” said Loren. “Though others did not. Close the door, Gem.”

  The boy hurried to do as she asked, and Loren went to sit on the bed. She was likely getting blood on the blanket, but she did not care. Annis and Gem stood before her, their eyes wide. But Kerri looked at Loren’s face, studying her. Loren thought she saw something in the girl’s eyes … recognition? Understanding?

  “I killed Gregor,” whispered Loren. “I killed him.”

  The room went still. Kerri’s expression grew dour, and Wyle only blinked. But Annis and Gem looked at each other in fear. Only they could know what this moment truly meant.

  “And I am leaving,” continued Loren. “I must go off on my own again. Because I need to kill Damaris.”

  Annis sagged. She sank down on the bed, sitting on its edge. Her hands were shaking. Gem took them quickly, holding them between his own. “Loren—” said Annis.

  “She killed Chet, Annis,” said Loren. “And not quickly.”

  “No, I know,” said Annis. “I … I understand. And I will come with you.”

  Loren shook her head slowly. “You should not. This is not like our journeys before. I am no longer running. I am looking to right a wrong.”

  “But none of our journeys have been like another,” said Annis. “Yet we have always been together. I … I know what you must do. Gem and Kerri told me about Chet. I want to go with you.”

  Loren found it hard to speak past a sudden tightness in her throat, and her voice broke. “Then I welcome your company. It would be an emptier road if I did not ride it with you.”

  “I suppose it need not be said that I am coming as well,” said Gem.

  Somehow, Loren found the strength to smile. “Of course not. I was going to ask you to do so.”

  He smirked, but it died quickly. Loren looked past him to Wyle. At once the smuggler spread his hands, shaking his head.

  “No. I have enjoyed your company, Nightblade, but I have ridden quite a bit farther than I had ever planned to. I believe I will remain here, reaping the gratitude of the new king.”

  “You can collect that gratitude easily enough by letter,” said Loren. “I am certain Senlin will accommodate you. But we need to travel by secret ways that no one else knows. And we would pay you handsomely. Why not also earn yourself the gratitude of Underrealm’s greatest … greatest thief?”

  Her stomach turned. She had almost said assassin.

  Wyle eyed the door to their room and pursed his lips. “I suppose it is true that I would rather not be in Danfon just now,” he muttered. “I trust Senlin, but that Kal fellow …” He sighed and held up a finger. “Very well. But you will pay me full rates. I never give a discount, even to friends. It only cheapens the friendship.”

  “Fair enough,” said Loren. “And thank you.”

  Wyle stood and bowed to her. “You are welcome, Nightblade. I am at your disposal—for a while, at least.”

  “Then let us not delay,” said Loren, pushing herself up off the bed. “The road is long, and we should begin.”

  “Now?” said Gem, eyes widening in surprise.

  “There is no better time,” said Loren. “Damaris already has a head start.”

  “I think you are right,” said Annis.

  Loren nodded, then turned to Kerri. “Farewell, Keridwen. I am glad to have known you, even for a little while. Look after Senlin for us. He will need friends in the days to come.”

  Kerri’s eyes flashed. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, and she tilted up her chin.

  “No.”

  That gave Loren pause. She frowned at Kerri. “No?”

  “No. I will not stay here to look after a boy. I mean, he may be king, but …” She took a deep breath and released it in a rush. “I want to come with you.”

  Loren’s frown deepened, furrowing her brow. “With us? Why?”

  “You know why. I want to do more. More than I can do here, even if I were to help Senlin.”

  Slowly Loren shook her head. “No, Kerri. You are a healer, a chemist. On the road we travel, I must … I must be a killer.”

  Kerri cocked her head. “I have never believed that killing was always wrong.”

  Loren opened her mouth to argue again—and then she closed it. “Very well,” she said, shrugging. “You may come if you wish. But it must be now.”

  Kerri did not answer, but only fell in behind the children as they followed Loren out the door. Loren led them down the hallway, towards the back entrance to the inn. But as they passed one of the last doors, Gem came to a stop.

  “A moment,” he said, and opened the door.

  “Gem—” said Loren. But then she froze. It was Prince Senlin’s room. Jo had leaped to his feet as the door opened, but when he saw Gem, the bodyguard dropped his hand from his sword. Prince Senlin stood to greet Gem, dumbfounded.

  “Master Noctis,” he said. “Can I … can I help you?”

  “I … I only wanted to say,” said Gem. A flush crept up his cheeks, and he took another step into the room. “I cannot explain everything now, but I think—after tonight, I mean. I think you will be a very good king.”

  A small smile crossed Senlin’s lips. “Thank you. That is reassuring to—”

  His words died as Gem leaped forwards and kissed him. Senlin’s eyes widened, and next to them both, Jo froze in shock. Then Senlin closed his eyes and gripped Gem’s shoulders. For a moment, all of time seemed frozen, and Loren thought even her heart must have stopped beating.

  Then at last, Gem drew away. Senlin took a small, sharp breath.

  “That is all I wanted to say,” said Gem. Then he fled from the room as fast as his feet would carry him. He seized Loren’s arm and drew her along after him. “Sky above, hurry, before he has a chance to say something.”

  Loren only caught one brief glance of Senlin, standing there with his fingers on his lips, before she passed from view of him.

  They reached the back door. By some stroke of fortune, Uzo was on guard duty again. But then, Loren did not much believe in fortune any longer. No doubt this was some design of fate as well—the same fate that had brought her visions, curse and blessing that they were.

  But time enough for those thoughts later.

  Uzo glanced down at Loren in surprise as she approached, and then he eyed her companions. A grim look came into his eyes. Loren thought for a moment that he would try to stop them. Instead he merely reached over and opened the door for her.

  “Thank you,” said Loren quietly
. “Fare well. Say good-bye to Shiun for us. She should understand.”

  “She will,” said Uzo. “Fare well, Nightblade. It has been the greatest honor of my life—so far, anyway. Whatever you must do, make them pay.”

  “I will,” said Loren. And she took her first step into the darkness—a darkness that she had fully embraced for the first time.

  KEEP READING

  More books in The Nightblade Epic are coming. But this is not the only tale of Underrealm. The Academy Journals series tells the story of the Academy for wizards upon the High King’s Seat.

  Either story is complete on its own—but together, they form a greater part of the tapestry of Underrealm.

  Contained within the series’ pages are answers to many of the mysteries laced throughout The Nightblade Epic. What happened to Vivien after the Battle of Wellmont? Who is the man in black? What happened to Xain after he left Loren’s company?

  Find out in The Alchemist’s Touch, the first book in this thrilling series. Get it here:

  Underrealm.net/AJ1

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Raise your hand if you know what “fridging” is.

  That’s a trick question. You might not know the term, but you definitely know the trope if you’ve ever consumed books, movies, or comics.

  This is the first book I’ve written since the end of what I’ve taken to calling the Restoration Project.

  When I first started the books of Underrealm, I had no editor. None at all. That, of course, was a huge mistake. My books were published with typos and plot holes aplenty. I knew it, but I simply couldn’t afford to pay an editor.

  That all changed in 2015. But, unfortunately, at that time I ended up working with an editor who … well, let’s just say I wish they’d never touched my books. Not only did they miss some of my typos and errors, but they ended up making thousands of “silent edits” to my work. Edits I never got to see, never got to approve or disapprove. And not only did that massively change my voice, but they actually introduced errors into the work. Real, factual typos and grammar mistakes, as well as errors in the world I’d built.