The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) by Garrett Robinson (elon musk reading list TXT) 📕

“You have been gone for many turns of the moons,” said Apok at last.

“Yes,” said Gatak.

“Where have you been?”

“I have traveled far,” said Gatak. “I have seen the end of the mountains. I have seen the eastern sky and the western sea.”

“I think you have been lurking with your human friends,” said Apok.

“They are friends to all of us,” said Gatak. “Their Lord promises many gifts.”

“Chok did not think so,” said Apok.

Gatak showed her teeth. “And where is he?”

Apok’s nostrils flared. But before she could answer, a barking command came from behind her.

“Apok! Enough!”

Dotag strode up, shoving Apok aside when he reached the two of them. For a moment he stood there, looking Gatak up and down, his ears folding back in contentment. Looking around, he found another troll who still slept, his arm curled around a half-eaten loaf of bread. Dotag snatched it away.

“For you,” he said, proffering the loaf.

Gatak growled in pleasure as she took it from him and ate it in a single bite. But she tossed her head as she swallowed the last of it.

“Good,” she said. “But old.”

Dotag’s face fell. “We last attacked the humans five nights ago. We will get more.”

Gatak peered up into his face. “Have you fought many battles? Have you driven them out of the mountains?”

Instead of answering, Dotag looked around at the rest of the pack. “Let us talk alone.”

That earned a stony silence from Gatak, but she followed him as he strode away. They broke into a run as they left the pack, and Dotag thrilled to be running with her again. Soon they came to a broad cliff that climbed straight up the side of a mountain. Dotag roared and plunged his hands into the stone, grabbing handholds and propelling himself upwards. Gatak followed, but quietly.

Half a span up, they came to a wide ledge that almost looked to have been cut into the mountainside. The ground was soft and overgrown with grass, which formed a soft cushion for them to sit down on. Dotag cast himself down, looking out from the cliff over the mountains as they spun away south. Far away—but not too far—he saw the pall of smoke that marked the humans’ city, the one they called Kahaunga.

“We are close now,” he said.

“Close, but not there,” said Gatak. “Tell me what you have done.”

“We have attacked many villages. The humans flee from us. They gather in their city.” He drew a crude map of the pact’s borders in the turf, digging into it with his stubby finger. “This is the pact line. We are here.” He dug a great circle where the pack now resided.

Gatak snorted. “I know where we are. Why have you not attacked the human city?”

Dotag’s ears spread wide and began to quiver with his sullenness. “We have been moving closer,” he said. “The pack was reluctant.”

“When Chok led them,” said Gatak. “You lead now. They will follow you.”

“They do follow me,” said Dotag angrily. He stood and slammed his fists into the ground. His crude drawing was flung to dust.

“How many humans have you killed?”

Dotag almost deflated as she watched. “None,” he said. “The others still do not wish to kill. They say there is no reason to. The humans flee whenever we come.”

“They flee, but then they gather,” snarled Gatak. “And they do not leave the mountains. They infest our land like ticks. They will not flee their city and let you take it. You must kill them. You should have killed many already.”

“We will,” said Dotag. “I will. And then the others will follow me. We will drive the humans out of the mountains. For you.”

That seemed to please Gatak. She pawed the ground. “For the Lord.”

“For you,” Dotag said again. When she let the matter lie, he went to sit beside her again. “You were right. I lead now. The others follow me. And I can mate as I wish.”

Gatak’s ears went up. “When did that ever stop us before?”

That very morning, we had set out into the Greatrocks, seeking the weremage.

It did not go well.

Yearsend was almost upon us, and it was the harshest time of winter. We rode out into the snow and the cold, and snowy and cold we remained, day after day. Our first expedition told us nothing. Any clues to the trolls’ actions or whereabouts was lost to the winds and a fresh snowfall that started the day we rode out.

Rather than return straight to Kahaunga, we traveled east aways, for I remembered another village in that direction, and I guessed that it, too, might have been attacked by the trolls. I was correct, but it did not help us at all. The attack had clearly happened earlier than the first village, and so the clues were even older. The only thing we could tell for sure was that the trolls had stolen every bit of produce and baked goods from both villages, which was in keeping with what we knew of them already.

We returned to Kahaunga in poor spirits—and then our mood was worsened further when we heard the news that Dryleaf had managed to gather in the meantime.

“There have been more attacks,” he said. “Three of them, and all in villages closer to Kahaunga.”

“Dark take me,” I said, clenching my hand to a fist. “We should have come home straightaway.”

“We should have,” said Mag. “But no use worrying about it now.” Though her smile was gentle, it put me ill at ease. She had been treating me gingerly ever since our meeting with Ditra, and I was growing sick of it. I would much rather have had her usual teasing.

“There is more,” said Dryleaf, his expression grim even as he continued to scratch Oku behind the ears. “The trolls have started killing.”

I stared at him, stunned. Mag leaned forwards in her chair.

“How many?” she said.

“Very few,” said Dryleaf. “Still, it marks a change. No matter