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

for years, I had kept telling myself that was not true, because it could not be. I told myself I saw subtle differences, things only I could see because I knew her so well. But that was a lie, something to let my mind feel secure in the face of the inexplicable.

I had thought Chausiku could not see the truth because he was too removed. In fact, I could not see it because I was too close.

Mag had not aged since long before we had met. And in all the battles we had fought in our youth, and then in Northwood, and on the long road since …

It was not that Mag could not be touched. It was that she always came back. And she hid it from me. From everyone.

“You kept it a secret,” I said. “Every time I thought I saw you injured, and you turned out to be fine. I was right. You were wounded, many times. But you healed, and I ascribed it to the chaos of battle. I told myself I had seen something that had not happened.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you have the right of it.” Mag’s body was mostly together now. She pushed herself up to sitting, dangling her arms over her knees. She was avoiding my gaze again. The rain had died out somewhat, and now it merely trickled onto us.

I could not help a snort of laughter. “No wonder you always hated my nickname. You were never the Uncut Lady at all.”

She shook her head. “No. I was not. Just a lonely wanderer with a curse, and no memory of how it came to me.”

“And you are sure it has nothing to do with the Lord?” I pressed. “I told you of Trisken in the mountains. And you have seen the brute woman here. The way their bodies heal themselves, no matter the wound …”

“It is not the same,” said Mag, her voice low but fervent. “You said nothing of Trisken’s pain when you told me of his power. And I have seen the brute woman suffer wounds. When she shrugs them off, her body is not wracked with agony. And then there is that tattoo they have—sky above, Albern, you have seen me naked often enough to know I do not have one, not on my neck or anywhere else. This enchantment their Lord has given them, and what happens to me … they may be similar in effect, but they are nothing alike in nature.”

“Mayhap,” I said thoughtfully. “And yet there may be a link. But that is a matter for another time, I suppose.”

“If you say so,” said Mag. She sounded as defeated as she had that morning, when we sat despondent by the fire together. Oku nuzzled her hands with his head, as he had when she lay broken in the mud. Mag scratched him halfheartedly behind the ears.

I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, shaking my head. “So, this is why you ran off on your own,” I said. “This is why you always go off on your own, no matter the danger. You know you will not die.”

“Yes,” whispered Mag. “And if I was injured, I did not want you to see it. I have worked hard to keep everyone from discovering what I am, because I do not understand it myself.”

I leaned back, looking up into the greying sky. The sun was gone in the west, and its last light was quickly vanishing. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Her gaze flitted to me, and then away again. “You are likely angry with me.”

I thought about that. “Did Sten know?”

Mag nodded. “And one other. My old master, Duana, who taught me brewing in Shuiniu. I … I am sorry, Albern. I have known you longer than I knew either of them. It is no defense, but I promise I did not mean to tell them. They found out.”

At that, I finally had to laugh out loud. The look of shock it put on her face was priceless. “Mag, stop it. Dark below, you do not have to apologize to me that your husband knew more about you than I did.”

Her eyes were wide now, and she blinked twice at me. “I … I suppose I am surprised that you are not more upset with me.”

“I …” My voice trailed off. To be honest, I did not entirely understand it myself. “Mag, it is your life. It is not mine. But I do wonder—and please believe that this is only curiosity—why did you not tell me? What were you afraid of?”

She shrugged. “I am not exactly sure. But it … when does one bring up something like this? Certainly not when we first met.”

“And how about all the time after, when we were fighting together?” I smiled to reassure her I was not angry. “It would have been nice not to be terrified every time you ran off and did something foolish.”

To my surprise, Mag shook her head sharply. “No. Never that. I never wanted it to be known to anyone I fought beside. Even you. I never wanted it to become an expectation in anyone else’s mind. Would you put it past some of our commanders to fling me into the thickest fighting, if they did not have to worry about me dying? You have seen what coming back does to me. Every injury is twice as painful. I suffer all the agony of the wound itself, and then the pain of my body putting itself back together.” A frown crossed her face. “I think … I am not certain, but I think that is why I learned to fight so well. So that I could protect myself from suffering in battle.”

I frowned. “You think that is why you learned?”

Her expression grew bleak. “I do not remember learning it, Albern. I mean it when I say that I have always been this way. Everything before that forest in Shuiniu is … empty. There