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

but led us straight to the heart of Lan Shui. At last he threw open the door of a ramshackle house and then slammed it shut behind him. Mag and I skidded to a halt just outside the door, looking up at the building.

“Is there any reason not to follow him straightaway?” said Mag.

“This is a large building that could contain a dozen enemies or more,” I said.

“Any good reason, I mean?”

I drew my sword. “None.”

Mag grinned as she hefted her spear. Together we launched ourselves forwards, slamming our shoulders into the front door.

It burst open, and I took in the room at a blink. Just before us stood the boy, his eyes bulging more than ever with terror at the sight of us. He stood with two others, a thin Heddish man and a fat Dorsean woman—Shades, I guessed, though they did not wear blue and grey. A fourth Shade stood in a doorway at the other end of the room. She was older, but hale, and wore her grey hair in a braid.

“Well met,” I said. “Did we see each other in Northwood? I have such a terrible memory for faces.”

“Pantu, you fool,” hissed the woman with the grey braid. Then, to the others, she cried, “Kill them!” But she did not heed her own advice, instead turning and fleeing deeper into the house.

The thin man shoved the boy out of the way and rushed us, unsheathing a sword. The woman picked up a warhammer before doing the same. I braced myself to receive the man’s first lunge, but that turned out to be unnecessary. Mag gave a savage thrust, and his sword arm was dangling useless at his side, while his blade clattered to the floor. The fat woman swung her warhammer twice, driving us both back one step, but then Mag pounced. Her spearhead pierced the woman’s gut, making her gasp, before withdrawing and striking again, this time straight into her heart.

I almost relaxed, before I saw the thin man trying to retrieve his sword with his left hand. My own sword came sweeping down, and the Shade fell to the floor.

The boy cowered in the corner of the room, his hands raised helplessly before him, terrified. Mag advanced on him, but I darted forwards and took her arm. She whirled on me, and I flinched before her dead-eyed gaze.

“Mag,” I said. “Look at him.”

She hesitated and looked down at the boy. He looked back up at us, terrified. I felt the tension bleed from Mag’s arm.

“Run for your life,” I told the boy. “And if you know what is good for you, stop working with these Shades. They will come to ruin in the end.”

I tossed my head, and the boy bolted through the open front door.

“There will be more of them,” said Mag, her voice the emotionless monotone of her battle-trance. “Let us clear the house, and quickly.”

She started for the door to the left, but I took her arm and stopped her. When she turned on me, I tried not to flinch at her dead eyes.

“Wait,” I said. I pointed to the room’s second door on the right. “If we chase the woman, she might be able to circle through the house and come out this way. One of us should stay here to guard the exit.”

“There could be a back door, too,” she said tonelessly.

“There could be, but we know about the front door,” I said. “Go after her before we waste too much time.”

She nodded and darted through the left-hand door. I felt a twinge of shame at how easily I had let her go off on her own. But both of us knew that, if one of us should go alone into the house, it should be her. I could be overwhelmed if more foes waited within. Mag could not.

I took a stance by the front door, sword ready in my hand. After the first few moments, the house was silent; not even Mag’s footfalls could be heard. My pulse thudded loud in my ears, but it was thick and muddy. I shook my head, trying to clear it.

What was wrong with this place? The air was heavy with more than the midday heat. I could feel an evil energy seeping from the very walls. I had heard wizards talk of sensing magic at work. This felt like what they described, but of course I was no wizard. Even if there was magic here, I would never have been able to sense it. Yet I could sense … something.

Footsteps came pounding from behind the left-hand door. I tensed, raising my sword—and then I realized that it had to be Mag. No foe could have gotten past her to flee here.

The door opened to reveal the Shade woman with the grey braid.

She skidded to a halt at the sight of me, her well-lined eyes going wide. She, too, held a blade in her hand, but it dipped for a moment as she dragged a hand down her face.

“This was not supposed to happen,” she muttered, almost as if talking to herself. “You were never supposed to come here.”

I shifted my stance slightly, watching for a trick. “I am sorry to be such a disappointment, though you may be relieved to know I have always been such, according to those who know me best.”

She spat on the wooden floor. “Shut your prattling lips. You were not meant to die here, but dark take me if I will let you kill me instead.”

“Now, be calm,” I said. “There is no reason anyone has to—”

She lunged before I could finish, and I barely blocked her overhead swing. But hardly had her blade rebounded before it came again, swinging from my left this time. I tried to twist out of the way, but I felt the tip of the blade slice a deep cut in my forearm. I grimaced in pain and tried to step away, but she followed.

“You people do not poison your weapons,