Darkfire: A Book of Underrealm Read Online Free Page A

raised in the kingdom of Selvan. As anyone could plainly hear.”
    Gem laughed out loud. Annis giggled, “There’s no reason to be upset, Loren. He speaks the truth. Your voice is quite … regional.”
    “It is not!”  
    “No, it is quite impossible to hear you have come from the forest, raised in a small village by parents who most likely chopped wood,” said Gem, speaking in an outlandish fashion, lilting the first sound of every word.
    “That sounds nothing like me!” said Loren, her anger heating by the second.
    “You had best still your tongue, Gem,” said Annis, a light dancing in her eyes. “Or she might beat you with her great wood-chopping arms.”
    Loren hunched her shoulders and lowered her hood, fuming, while Gem and Annis continued their jibes. At least the children were happy, and the air seemed to have thinned. Xain’s presence had been a heavy weight upon them, and now his absence freed their tongues and lightened their hearts.
    So they came at last to the village of Strapa, little more than a few buildings clustered in the Greatrocks’ looming shadow. Loren saw several homes, not dissimilar to the houses of her village in the Birchwood. A curious pang of homesickness rippled through her. She had never found cause to miss her village, for no fond memories had ever invited her mind. There with happy times with Chet, and the old storyteller Bracken, but all were dwarfed by her parents’ looming shadow.
    Yet now, seeing this simple place against the backdrop of the mountains, Loren saw nobility in such a life. True, her youth had not been easy, but many in her village had seemed happy — as did many walking the streets of Strapa now. She had seen much excitement since fleeing the Birchwood, and much peril. Loren could hardly imagine returning to such a life. And yet, to her surprise, some part of her missed it, longing for the day when her greatest fear was not chopping enough logs to please her father.
    But as their horses picked a slow, careful path through the streets, Loren thought she saw some truth in Jordel’s warning. Many curious eyes watched them as they went, and not all sat in friendly faces. Many seemed to be surveying their party, as if measuring a meal before feasting. But Jordel’s frame was impressive, and he carried a broad sword at his waist. And though she bore no open weapon, still Loren was tall for a girl. She threw back her shoulders, trying to look larger, and when she caught their glances they must have seen something in her eyes to deter them, for they quickly averted their own.
    Streets spread out from the village center like a wagon wheel’s spokes. As they neared the town’s heart, houses gave way to inns, taverns, and shops of trade. Once they reached its center, four roads led away: one heading southwest to Wellmont; one to the southeast, from which they had come; another north, where they were bound; and finally a narrow road, with buildings pressing close on either side, going northwest.  
    Loren nodded toward the tapered road. “Where does it go?”  
    Jordel followed her gaze. “You have a sharp eye. That road leads out of Strapa and into the Greatrocks themselves. There is a pass that leads through the mountains, along perilous heights and into deep valleys. It sees little travel, for it is a treacherous journey.”
    “A secret mountain pass?” said Gem, his eyes alight. “Why do we not take that path, Jordel? It seems to suit our purpose, to hide us from watchful eyes upon the open road.”
    Loren shared the thought, but Jordel shook his head. “I had thought the same as we rode north. But as I said, that way promises great danger. I fear it would add weeks to our journey, and mayhap months. Secrecy must surrender to speed, now more than ever. Time pulls us ever nearer to our doom, and faster the closer we draw.”
    They fell silent, and stayed mute as Jordel led them to an inn. A stable boy took their horses, with many curious glances at Loren’s