The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3

by Holmberg, D. K.

  “I’m here,” he whispered as he looked around the yard. Three others were coming toward him from the south side. The only way he could go would be toward the wall, back outside.

  “Good. I thought they’d gotten to you. What happened?”

  “Patrol. Skilled.”

  The man he’d cut down started moving again. Gavin was going to have to decide quickly—and act quickly. Doing anything but running would be a risk. There was an obvious answer, but the problem was that sometimes the obvious answer wasn’t the right one.

  He glanced down at the man he’d cut down and retrieved his fallen knife. “How many steps did you say it was to the door?”

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to be able to reach it.”

  “I’m not. I just want to know how many paces it is to the door.”

  “Well, from where you were, it was a dozen paces. I don’t have any idea where you are now, so I don’t really know how far it is.”

  “Considering the attack took me a little bit away from where I was heading, I’m not really sure either.” Gavin swept his gaze around the inside of the yard, gripping his knives tightly, and started running. He had to hope that he could be fast enough. At least, he had to be faster than those behind him. He felt movement all around him and worried that this was a terrible mistake.

  As he glanced behind him, the activity near the wall caught his attention. Had he gone that way, there would’ve been others. They had wanted him to think that he could head toward the wall.

  Smiling to himself, he nearly reached the door before diving off to the side. Gavin crashed through a window, glass shattering all around him.

  “What was that?”

  “Window,” he whispered.

  “We were going to go through a door.”

  “We were, but given that it was blocked and we didn’t have any other choice, we went through the window,” he muttered.

  He was in a small room. Glowing coals at one end suggested it had been used recently, but as far as he could tell, there was no one else inside. It was dark, and as he hurried through it, he tried to fix the layout of the house in his mind.

  If I go through the door on the other side…

  He pulled the door open. There were enough people that he wasn’t sure he'd be able to cut his way through. His only advantage was that the hallway was narrow, which would limit how well the guards could fight.

  Gavin lowered his shoulder, driving forward with his heel, and launched himself at the three people in the hallway. He twisted in the air, spinning the blades out from him. It was a dangerous technique in the best of times, but within the hallway, he thought it was somewhat safer. He could use the walls on either side of him to brace himself so that he could spin even more.

  He launched himself up and continued to spiral and pivot. He caught one man in the stomach and another in the side of the neck. He slammed the hilt of his knife into the third man’s temple, and the man crumpled. Not wanting to take a moment more to make sure they stayed down, he raced toward the stairs. This was going to be a bloody affair.

  “It’s a good thing the job didn’t say how we had to complete it,” he whispered.

  “Why?” Wrenlow asked from the other side.

  Gavin envisioned Wrenlow sitting in a chair near the hearth in the Roasted Dragon tavern, smirking to himself as he listened to the chaos through the enchantment. The other man was likely sitting with his notebook out, looking down at the notes he’d taken, and contemplating just how many steps Gavin would need to make it to each level.

  “Too much noise. Most of the time, they want us to be quiet,” he said.

  “You? I don’t know if you could be quiet if you wanted to.”

  “I can do quiet.”

  Wrenlow snickered. “Then prove it.”

  “Another job.”

  Gavin found the stairs and glanced behind him. So far there was no one else coming, and he didn’t hear anything above him either. That seemed ominous since the target was on the second level. He raced up the stairs, trying to keep his footsteps as quiet as he could, and reached the next landing.

  “Which door did you say it was?”

  “Fourth or fifth,” Wrenlow replied.

  “Which one is it?”

  “Like I said, the fourth or the fifth one.”

  He grunted and threw open the fourth door. There was no one inside. When he reached the fifth door and opened it, he realized the two rooms were connected.

  “Fourth and fifth door,” he said.

  “What was that?” Wrenlow asked.

  “Both doors. They led to the same place.”

  Gavin stopped inside the room, sweeping his gaze around. The room was incredibly decorated, with richly stained wood along the walls. A massive desk occupied space near the far end, and several sculptures sat atop its surface. One was seemingly made of gold and in the shape of a small rabbit, which gave him pause. He glanced at it for a moment and considered whether he should take the golden statue, but he decided against it. That wasn’t the job. A fireplace at one end of the room crackled wildly. Two chairs sat facing each other, with a small stone table set between them. A glass of wine and the bottle it was poured from rested on the table.

  As he took in everything around him, he shook his head. He’d been in two places of incredible wealth before, but this was still impressive. Were he a thief, he might find himself preoccupied, but as it was, he had another task set before him.

  He picked up the glass and took a sip. The wine was sweet and far more expensive than anything he would’ve been able to purchase on his own.

  “She’s got expensive tastes,” he muttered.

  “What are you going on about?”

  Gavin ignored Wrenlow and scanned the room. If she’d heard the noise below, then he could imagine her coming out and hiding. Maybe there was some secret place here. The walls were paneled, and he looked for any cracks that might suggest some hidden room, but given the layout of the house, he didn’t see how something like that would’ve been possible. There was no place for her to hide.

  A thumping overhead caught his attention. She had gotten out.

  Gavin reached the door and pulled it open. He kicked the man that he found on the other side, causing him to double over. Gavin drove his knee up to the man’s face with a satisfying crunch as something shattered.

  He had to keep moving. If she had gone up another level, then he’d have to follow. He raced up the stairs at the end of the room and found a door. He hesitated, squeezing the hilt of his knives, and when he was ready, he darted through the door onto the rooftop.

  There was no one here. Whatever he’d heard was already gone. Gavin looked around, and he could see movement on the grounds below him, but the woman—the target—had escaped.

  Balls.

  Now he was going to have to go to Hamish and admit that he’d failed. He had no idea how the employer might react, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the jobs dried up. Which meant it might be time to move on again.

  “Wish me luck,” he whispered.

  “With what?”

  “With getting out of here.”

  Chapter Two

  The street was empty, and Gavin stayed in the shadows, hiding near the buildings. Large sloped roofs covered the street where he stood, shielding him from the gentle rain cascading throughout the city. No moonlight was visible, and were it not for the faint lantern light at either end of the street, he might not have been able to see anything. The rain fit his mood.

  He’d silenced the enchantment, though it didn’t really matter. Wrenlow wasn’t going to be talking to him much at this point. The job was over, though not done. It wouldn’t be done until he completed the mission, but given what had just taken place and how much he’d made a mess of things, he wasn’t at all sure whether he’d be given the chance to finish it. More likely than not, someone else would be hired. Worse, others would be aware of what he’d done—or failed to do. If it got back to his empl
oyer, Gavin knew that he or she—it could be either—would be displeased.

  When he reached the end of the street, he hesitated. All he wanted was to sit down, have a mug of ale, and relax. His heart still raced, and sweat made his back moist, almost unpleasantly so. He probably needed a bath and a change of clothes. He was certain he needed to wash blood off, which was part of the reason he stayed in the shadows. There was enough activity from the constables in this section of the city that he worried he’d draw their attention.

  His jobs had become increasingly complicated these days. There had been a time when he’d been able to complete a task quickly and efficiently, but that time seemed long ago. Now, most of the jobs involved targets that were difficult to nearly impossible for him to reach. Then again, his employment situation had changed. Ever since he’d been hired by his mysterious employer, he’d found the assignments to be increasingly complex.

  A couple staggered down the street nearby. The thin woman leaned on the man for support, and they both seemed intoxicated. It was a little early for such intoxication, though there were places within this city, much like in all cities, where people drank all day. He studied the thin woman, noting her cloak. The weather wasn’t quite warm enough for the heavy gray wool. Even the man was overdressed in a thick jacket and pants.

  He remained in the shadows and headed past the pair. Their quiet conversation shifted, cutting off as he passed them, and he could hear them start to murmur.

  Did they notice my bloodstained clothing?

  He had managed to escape the manor house without killing too many, though that really wasn’t his greatest concern. All he’d wanted was to get out of there safely, and since he’d accomplished that, he figured the rest of it was a success.

  As he rounding a corner, he glanced back. Was it just his imagination, or was the woman leaning on the man a little differently? He thought she’d had her arm wrapped around his waist with her head resting on his shoulder, but now it seemed as if she were upright, looking at him. Something was off. The years he spent training—and fighting—had taught him to trust his instincts and not to ignore when an alarm was raised within him.

  Ducking around the corner, Gavin reached a nearby alley and slipped into it. As soon as he did, the couple appeared.

  “Where do you think he went?” the man whispered.

  “He couldn’t have gone very far.”

  That didn’t sound intoxicated to him at all. Worse, it meant that they were following him.

  How could they have been following me when I’d encountered them by chance? Unless it wasn’t a chance meeting…

  He tapped the enchantment and leaned his mouth close to the chain. “Wrenlow, if you’re there, I’m going to need your help,” he whispered.

  He tried to keep his voice little more than the barest of whispers, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than he already had. If these two began searching the street, realizing he couldn’t have disappeared very far, they might still find him. He would have to turn this into his advantage.

  Gavin backed into the alley, looking for some way up. The pitch to the roofs was such that it would be difficult for him to maintain his footing, but he might be able to find enough grip. He wouldn’t be able to move from building to building up there, but perhaps he could spy on them and get a better sense of who they were and who they were working for.

  There wasn’t anything for him to grab onto. Just the buildings. Thankfully, they were close enough together that he could wedge his feet out from him. It was an awkward position, but as he pressed each foot against the sides of the narrow alley, he shimmied his way up until he could reach the rooftop. From there, he gripped it and pulled himself up. When he swung his legs over, there was movement at the mouth of the alley where he’d just been. He pressed himself flat against the rooftop and stayed in place.

  “I could’ve sworn I heard something here,” one of them said.

  “If he was here, there isn’t any place he could’ve gone.”

  “Maybe he knows somebody in this part of the city.”

  “That’s not the intelligence we have.”

  “Maybe it’s wrong.”

  Intelligence? Who are these people?

  They could be constables, but Gavin had been careful to avoid drawing their attention. The moment he did, he wouldn’t be effective in Yoran any longer. The kinds of jobs he’d taken didn’t get reported to the constables, though, so he hadn’t needed to worry about that yet.

  He stayed on the rooftop, leaning close enough that he could hear and hoping the angle of the roof made it so they couldn’t see him.

  “We should keep moving.”

  As they headed toward the alley, they stopped. Shouts rang out in the distance, and Gavin froze.

  “What do you think that’s about?”

  “Probably him,” the woman said. “We need to find him, and from there…”

  Gavin couldn’t hear what they said next, but the message was clear. Somebody had sent them after him, and all of it was troubling. Now he had to hide from the recent target, as well as whoever was pursuing him. There was also the matter of how skilled the guard at the manor had been.

  He waited on the rooftop. “Did you hear any of that?” Gavin whispered.

  “Some of it,” Wrenlow said. “You have someone following you?”

  “That’s the way it seems.”

  “Why?”

  “No idea.”

  Gavin dragged himself along the roof until he reached the main part of the street. He was able to look out from here, and the location afforded him enough privacy that he didn’t think anyone could see him.

  I’m hidden here, but for how long?

  He didn’t want to stay up here all night. It got in the way of his dream of drinking some ale, relaxing by the fire, and filling his belly. “Do your digging and see what you come up with,” he said.

  “There are plenty of different outfits working within Yoran. That’s why we came here,” Wrenlow replied.

  “I know that’s why we came. It’s just…”

  They hadn’t been here all that long before the first job offer had come in. Then the next. Each one was a little bit more complicated, and each one seemed to drag him deeper into some unknown challenge. Now he had no idea whether or not this was all some sort of test, but he didn’t want any part of getting caught up in the politics of the city.

  “When are you coming back in?” Wrenlow asked.

  “When it’s safe.”

  “What if it’s not?”

  Gavin grunted. “It will be.”

  He listened to the sounds of the city as he lay on the rooftop. Wrenlow fell silent, though Gavin didn’t expect anything more from him. Not until he found anything. Likely he was reaching out to other contacts, searching for information about what had happened and who was after them. Hopefully, he would find something, but even if he didn’t, Gavin wasn’t entirely sure that it mattered. Maybe it was time for them to move on.

  Yoran was just one more city, though maybe it was more than that. There were other cities and other places they’d gone, and there were plenty of ways for him to supply his trade. He’d found an easy benefactor here, but that wasn’t what had brought him to the city. He’d come to see his old friend Cyran Black but hadn’t worked up the nerve to go to him yet. There was too much history between them.

  “I haven’t found anything,” Wrenlow said. “I’m going to keep looking, but I think you really need to come back in.”

  “And I told you that I will.”

  “Maybe this has something to do with our benefactor.”

  “Maybe,” Gavin said.

  “I’ve been digging, you know.”

  “I suspect you were.”

  There was a pause. “You’re not angry?” Wrenlow asked.

  “Why would I be angry?”

  The rooftop was uncomfortable. Gavin shifted and nearly rolled off. Were it not for him positioning his feet off to either side to catch hi
mself, he might have.

  “I don’t know. You get… touchy… about things sometimes. Especially if you think I should be doing something else.”

  “You’ve helped plenty, and I’ve been trying to uncover information about our benefactor as well,” Gavin said.

  “You have?” Wrenlow asked. His voice was soft and clear through the enchantment.

  “As much as I can.”

  “I imagine that involves wine and women.”

  “Not always in that order,” Gavin said, smiling.

  The street had been empty for a while, and he rolled over, dropping down from the rooftop. He looked around, but there was nothing suspicious. He hurried along the street until he reached an intersection. From there, he hesitated another moment before heading onward. He started taking a circuitous route, instinct guiding him. He wanted nothing more than to head back to the tavern, to sit by the fire, but given what he had encountered tonight, that wasn’t safe. Instead, he wandered through the city, winding his way back.

  The sense that he was being followed began to build. That must’ve been why his instinct had been to take this roundabout route. At one point, he paused and spun around, but there was no one there. That didn’t change the feeling that there was some activity behind him. Gavin started back the way he’d been, turning at random corners and sweeping through the streets.

  Yoran was a massive city built before the Reclamation War. It had barely been affected by the warfare, not the way that so many other cities had been. Much of the ancient structures remained with stonework that was incredibly ornate. The pale white stone gleamed in the sunlight, but in the gray overcast of night, it looked run-down, almost dirty.

  Gavin rounded the corner, then paused at the next intersection. He looked around for any sign of movement, but there wasn’t anything. Again he changed direction, heading back the way he’d come. By the time he reached the wealthier section of the city, he was certain he was being followed. It was nothing more than a feeling, but he’d learned to trust his intuition.

  A massive tree grew in the middle of the street. It had an enormous trunk, and the thick, velvety leaves were nothing like those on the bells tree he had nearly cut himself open on while approaching the manor house. This was a sacred place in the city to some; a place where they came to worship the tree that had supposedly been planted long before the city had been built. If so, that made the tree over a thousand years old, which Gavin found almost impossible to believe. He reached the tree and traced his fingers along the trunk, feeling the smoothness of the bark that was in sharp contrast to the trunk of the bells tree.