Darkfire: A Book of Underrealm by Garrett Robinson

Author:Garrett Robinson [Robinson, Garrett]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Horror, Dark Fantasy, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy, Coming of Age, Epic, Sword & Sorcery
Amazon: B010U8G7WQ
Publisher: Living Art Books
Published: 2015-07-27T23:00:00+00:00

twenty-one

“WE SHALL REACH THE FORTRESS today, I think,” said Albern.

It was morning, two days after the harpies had attacked them on the valley floor. Though Albern spoke with all the severity of someone commenting upon the rain, his words still sent a wave of unease rippling through the party.

“And what will happen then?” Gem wondered.

“Then?” said Jordel. “Then we will see what we find, and answer however we can. What is it you once told me? Our road is set, and what use in worrying? We can do little about it either way.”

“It sounded cheerier when I said it,” grumbled Gem.

Though Jordel had grown curiously calm, now that their destination seemed inevitable, Gem and Annis did not catch his mood. Loren found them both looking about anxiously, as though they expected to find themselves beset by ghouls at any moment. Even Annis seemed to have forgotten some of her anger in the face of their uncertain future.

They were not much longer upon the road when it began to widen, turning from loose mud to packed dirt that hardly soaked up the rain. Then, abruptly, it turned into well-paved stone, great square blocks of granite laid out with mortar in a perfect path leading due north.

Albern stopped them at once, and from the look on his face Loren could tell he had not expected this. Jordel, too, looked solemn, for all his talk of being unworried.

“You cannot tell me this road was not here last time you came this way,” said Loren.

“I can, for it is true,” said Albern. “See for yourself — the stones are almost newly cut and laid. They cannot be more than a few years old. And certainly they are not older than ten years, and that is the last time I was here.”

“Who would do that?” said Jordel. “Surely not the King of Selvan, for then I would certainly have heard.”

“If I had to guess, I would lay blame at the feet of this ‘Lord’ the satyrs have mentioned,” said Albern grimly. “And that shows the truth of what I have suspected all along: he is not one of them. Satyrs never lay roads like this, nor build structures of stone, or even of wood. They live in caves and in the wild, and have no need to pave since they do not ride horses or pull carts, preferring always to climb mountainsides.”

“Mayhap this Lord will give us food and lodging for the night,” said Gem. “Perhaps he is a benevolent man who will give care to five weary travelers. Six, I mean — please do not take offense.” He gave a great, dramatic bow to where Xain lay on the back of Jordel’s horse.

“A benevolent man who musters armies of satyrs and harpies to do his bidding,” said Albern. “No, I do not think such a creature exists in the nine lands, little master.”

“I think I prefer the title of Lord Urchin, if it please you.”

“It does not,” said Albern with a dark look. “Just now there are too many Lords in the Greatrocks for my taste.

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