The crowd was thinner here. Behind him, the merchants were loud, their voices a cacophony of shouts. The nearest street performer was a trio of acrobats, and they were nearly silent. It would’ve been easier for him to approach Hamish near a singer, but there were none to be found.
That wasn’t quite right. As he circled back around, he heard a warbly voice. Gavin recognized it as the same singer who’d performed at the Roasted Dragon. He was certain of it.
He frowned.
Was Hamish talking to the singer? Could that be the source of his information?
“I need you to talk to the performers at the Dragon,” Gavin said.
“Which ones?”
“All of them, I think.”
“Why?”
“We’ve been trying to figure out how Hamish acquired his information. I think I might’ve just discovered it.”
“You think he’s talking to the musicians?”
“It’s possible.”
Gavin remained motionless, though standing as he did would draw its own attention. He had to move on. He drifted, trying to carefully follow the flow of the crowd in a way that wouldn’t draw too much notice, but he still had a feeling that Hamish was aware of his presence. He turned to pretend like he was examining a stall’s wares, and by the time he turned back, Hamish was gone.
“Balls,” he said again.
This time, he said it more loudly. The man nearest him looked over and started to smile, which faded when Gavin glared at him.
He reached under his cloak and felt for the El’aras dagger. It might’ve been a mistake to bring the dagger with him, but there was something comforting in having it with him, especially seeing as how the dagger was responsible for so much pain he’d suffered. He knew it wasn’t this dagger in particular, but…
The dagger was glowing. It hadn’t been doing that previously, he was certain of it. That it was glowing again now suggested there was magic being used near him—El’aras magic.
Could it be Hamish? He hadn’t thought him El’aras. In the interactions they’d had, nothing suggested that, and he didn’t think it could be the case.
Gavin moved toward the outer edge of the market, pausing as he looked for any sign of the man. He continued until he reached the perimeter of the market, but he still couldn’t find a trace. There was nothing. Hamish had seen him and slipped away, likely into the city where he’d disappear.
“He’s gone,” he whispered. “But there’s something else.”
“What is it?”
“The blade is glowing.”
“What do you mean it’s glowing?”
“Isn’t that clear enough?”
“It’s clear, but why would it be glowing?” Wrenlow asked.
“Didn’t I tell you how these things work?”
“You did, and I’m not dense. It’s just that for it to be glowing, it means there’s someone near you who can make it do so.”
“You can say it. Magic,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to,” Wrenlow said.
Gavin smiled to himself. He turned back toward the crowd, sweeping his gaze around. If the El’aras were here, it meant they’d followed him. Given that they’d been so willing to attack him openly, he shouldn’t be surprised they’d come after him here.
“Better you than me.”
It would be a simple thing to stick a knife in him, drop him when there was a crowd around him, and move on. It was the kind of hit he’d made before, and there was something practical about how easy it was to slip off into the crowd. No one saw it as anything more than a random act of violence that had taken place, and he was long gone before it attracted the constables’ attention.
Gavin wasn’t about to be the victim. He paused at each of the few performing acts, using that as an opportunity to scan the crowd again. He held one hand on the El’aras dagger as he did, but he still found nothing. If he’d lost Hamish, then it would be better for him to return to the Dragon.
The blade continued to glow. If the El’aras were there, they were trailing him. More likely than not, they did a much better job than he had trying to follow Hamish. It shouldn’t be that hard to find him. The bastard was dressed in purple, after all.
“Maybe I should’ve had you come with me. The two of us would’ve been able to spot him sneaking away.”
“I don’t know what he looks like,” Wrenlow said.
“With Hamish, you don’t really need to know anything more than what color he’s wearing for that day.”
“What color was he wearing today?”
“Purple.”
“I like purple,” Wrenlow said.
“You’d like Hamish then.”
Gavin moved toward the next performer. This was a storyteller who shared the legend of the exploits of Vonald, a sorcerer who’d supposedly lived hundreds of years ago and who’d also supposedly conquered the El’aras. The storyteller called them something different, and he also didn’t call Vonald a sorcerer, though Gavin had heard the story often enough that he knew that was essentially what he was. It did surprise him that somebody would be willing to share a story like that in a place like Yoran, so unaccepting of magic. But then, the people here might not know what the storyteller was actually referencing.
Despite his need to focus on finding Hamish, he found himself listening before he tore his attention away.
“You can go back,” Wrenlow said. “I was quite enjoying that, though I’d dispute a few of his details about Vonald.”
“You’re now an expert on such things?”
“You know I’ve spent time researching sorcerers. I figured I needed to.”
“We don’t deal with sorcerers.”
Gavin moved off. Arguing with Wrenlow when people were around him only ran the risk of revealing that they were using something magical, or at least something magically endowed. He glanced down at the dagger, testing to see if it was still glowing and found that it was. As he started back into the main part of the market, he caught another flash of purple fabric.
“There you are,” he muttered.
“You found him?”
“I found something.”
He hurried forward, staying low and concealing his height as he weaved through the crowd. Every so often, he would stand up taller, poking his head up to search for the flash of purple fabric that told him he was on the right path. When he saw Hamish, he continued in that direction, moving ever closer.
Finally, he reached his target, who stopped at a booth. Gavin couldn’t tell what Hamish shopped for, as he was trying to stay low and remain concealed. He wanted to listen in and see what Hamish was after, but the man lingered only a moment before moving on.
When he was gone, Gavin popped his head up, looking for the person Hamish had been speaking to. They now seemed preoccupied with the next customer in line to buy fabrics.
He lingered for a moment. “I wish we had a layout of this place.”
“Give me a little time, but I might be able to come up with a traditional layout for the market,” Wrenlow said.
“It won’t matter by then.”
He snuck forward through the crowd, following the flowing purple robes. He paused when Hamish paused, then waited for a moment before heading onward. After a while, he started to wonder whether Hamish lingered intentionally. It seemed as if he weaved through the stands casually and not with the same intentional stride that he had before.
Gavin remained cautious. “I think he knows I’m here,” he whispered.
“If he knew you were there, would he linger like this?”
“I don’t know. It’s Hamish. I don’t really know what he might do. He—”
Gavin cut off as a man bumped into him and pressed something against him. He reacted instinctively by grabbing for the man’s wrist.
The man looked up at him, his eyes narrowed. “I was told to give this to you.”
Gavin took the scrap of paper and released his wrist. The man backed away before he turned and ran, dis
appearing into the crowd.
“What was that?” Wrenlow asked.
Gavin looked back up, but the purple flowing robes were gone. “Dammit,” he whispered.
“What is it?”
He unfolded the scrap of paper, recognizing the flowing script. It was neat. Tidy. Almost too decorative. Much like the hand that had written it.
“I guess that answers the question of whether or not Hamish knew I was here,” he said.
“Why?” Wrenlow asked.
“Because he just sent me a note.”
Chapter Ten
Gavin lingered at the edge of the forest. The note had been quite descriptive as to where he needed to go and how he needed to leave the city in order to reach this spot without someone following him. He didn’t know what he might find here, which was why he hadn’t come alone.
He looked over at Gaspar. The old thief had an annoyed look on his face as he leaned back against one of the trees. A bow was slung over his shoulder, which seemed somehow fitting for him. When they were making their way from the Dragon, the bow had been almost comical and out of place in Yoran, but as soon as they reached the edge of the city, the bow seemed far more appropriate.
“Do you think he even knows how to use that?” he asked Imogen.
She was dressed in a traveling cloak, its heavy leather folds covering her petite, slender body. She had a pouch visible beneath it, along with the narrow-bladed sword she kept on her. “He can use it.”
She rarely spoke, though he wished she would now. Coming out here with Gaspar was problem enough. Bringing Imogen, as silent as she was, felt like adding an unnecessary challenge.
The trees created a ring around them, forming the small clearing. In the center of it, the trunk of an old tree rested along the ground. Small shrubs rose to about his waist, and several of them had tiny purple flowers growing on them. Thorns caught at his pants in ways that they didn’t in other parts of the forest.
Gavin nodded, then headed across the small clearing and reached Gaspar. “This is where we’re supposed to meet Hamish.”
“Are you sure?” Gaspar looked around the woods, his gaze flickering quickly. He had something in his eyes that suggested he’d done this before. Since Gaspar was a thief, Gavin suspected the man was accustomed to being on edge, always surveying everything around him.
“You read the note the same as I did,” he said.
“I read the note, but that doesn’t answer the question.”
“What do you think the note meant?”
Gaspar pulled the bow off his shoulder and pressing his lips together in a frown. Wrinkles around the corners of his eyes deepened. “The note told you to come here. It didn’t say you’re going to meet Hamish. It didn’t say you’re going to meet this target of yours either.”
“If it wasn’t to meet here, then what point was there in giving me the note?”
“He’s your employer,” Gaspar said.
“According to him, he’s not the employer.”
“If he sent you, then he’s the employer.”
Gavin grunted. He started to look around the clearing and noted Imogen picking her way around it.
A troubling thought nagged at him; a reminder of what Hamish had said to him when he’d failed to reach the target at first. Hamish might’ve wanted to get them out of the city to eliminate him. He didn’t think so, though.
“Do you see anything?” he whispered.
Wrenlow had hidden high up in one of the trees nearby, overlooking the clearing. Gavin hoped that he remained hidden well enough that no one else would be able to see him, though he didn’t know if it would work.
“So far, nothing.”
“I didn’t think so, but keep looking.”
“You know I am. It’s just that—”
Gavin tapped the enchantment when a flurry of movement caught his eye. He spun, reaching for the dagger, only to find a squirrel scampering up a tree.
He wasn’t the only one spooked though. As he turned, he realized Gaspar and Imogen were both on edge, though he couldn’t tell it from her. Gaspar had an arrow nocked and ready to draw, whereas Imogen only stood a little more stiffly than usual.
“I guess I’m not the only one startled,” he said, laughing softly.
“A squirrel?” Gaspar said. He started toward the tree, holding the arrow slightly drawn. He didn’t put any tension on the string, which told Gavin all he needed to know about the man: He understood how to use his bow. “With what I saw, I expected something more than just a squirrel.”
Gavin moved out of the center of the clearing, closer to the trees, and tapped on the enchantment again. “Do you see anything?” he whispered to Wrenlow.
There was silence.
“Wrenlow?”
Nothing.
Gavin glanced at the others. “Stay here,” he said.
“What are you doing?” Gaspar asked.
“Wrenlow has gone quiet.”
He hurried from the clearing, unsheathing the El’aras dagger. The tree Wrenlow had climbed wasn’t far from them, and as he neared it, he paused and looked up. There was no sign of anything there, certainly no sign of movement, but Wrenlow was missing. Something had happened to him. Gavin lingered at the base of the tree and then slipped the dagger back into his belt. Climbing up the tree, he reached the upper branches and began to pull himself up more rapidly.
“If you’re up there and simply not answering, I’m going to throw you out of the tree,” he whispered.
There was still nothing. Gavin hurriedly worked his way up.
What would’ve happened to Wrenlow here?
He was high enough that nothing should’ve been able to reach him, but something must have. There had to be some reason he’d gone silent.
He neared the branches where he thought Wrenlow would be and found a few that were bent, confirming his suspicion. There was no other sign of his friend. He lingered for a moment and looked down. From here, the forest spread out beneath them. The branch was quite high with a good vantage point, and he understood why Wrenlow had chosen it. Sitting here afforded him the ability to survey a wide area of the ground beneath them.
He looked at the branch, but there was nothing here. No sign of where Wrenlow might’ve gone and no sign of what had happened to him. Were it not for the bent branches, it’d be almost as if Wrenlow hadn’t been here.
Gavin started climbing down when another flicker of movement caught his attention. He tensed, hesitating.
At least up in the tree, he was able to see around him more easily. From here, he could make out the edge of the clearing. Gaspar was there, along with Imogen, but there was someone else too.
Could it be Hamish?
“If you’re listening, I need some sort of indication,” he said into the enchantment.
Maybe Wrenlow had seen something and moved forward, and he’d fallen silent because he couldn’t speak.
“Give me a cough. Anything.”
The sound of wind picked up in his ears. He considered that a response.
Gavin slipped along the trunk and dropped back to the ground, and then he darted forward. He unsheathed the dagger before deciding to switch back to his knives. He glanced down at the dagger to look for any glowing that signified magic was being used nearby, but he didn’t find anything. At least that much was reassuring.
He flicked his gaze from side to side, searching for anything else that might be in the forest with him, some other sign of danger. Again he saw nothing. As far as he could tell, Gaspar and Imogen were where they’d been before.
But like he thought, they weren’t alone. With them was a figure who was solidly built, slightly shorter than Gavin, and appeared to be wearing long flowing robes. It didn’t appear to be Hamish.
The note had come from Hamish, hadn’t it?
He leaned forward, listening.
“You can come out of the trees, Mr. Lorren.”
Gavin hesitated. The newcomer’s back was to him, and it seemed that it�
��d be a simple matter to hurl one of his knives and sink it into this person’s back. But he knew if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to understand why they’d been summoned outside of the city.
As he looked around the clearing, he didn’t see anyone else here and could sense no other danger. He slipped the knives back into their sheaths and rested his hand on the hilt of the dagger instead. He didn’t withdraw it, but he was prepared for the possibility that he might need to use it at any moment.
“Who are you?” he asked. This wasn’t Hamish.
The newcomer turned slowly to face them. A hood framed his face and shadows rested in the hollows of his eyes. Nothing else about him was distinct.
“You don’t have to linger there,” the man said.
Gavin glanced over toward Gaspar, who stood fixed in place, saying nothing. Imogen didn’t move either. Could this be his employer? He wouldn’t have expected Hamish to bring the employer out here.
He took a step but wasn’t able to take anything more. It seemed as if he’d stepped into deep mud or quicksand. It formed some sort of strange thickness around him.
The El’aras dagger started to glow.
Sorcery.
The newcomer pulled back his hood. He had close-cropped gray hair and a face that was lean, almost gaunt, with a faint trace of a beard covering his cheeks. He could’ve been like anyone else in Yoran were it not for the power Gavin could feel radiating off of him. Strangely enough, he was all too aware of that power.
Gavin had been around people with magic before. It was one of the things that Tristan had made sure of. He’d known that Gavin would be exposed to sorcery and wanted him to be learn how to counter it. Mostly that involved a skillfully thrown knife or an arrow shot from a distance, and he’d learned to avoid the effects of many spells. He also had to hone and focus his core reserves of power. It was because of this training that he could feel the power pressing upon him now.
“You will see you cannot go any further,” the man said. “I apologize for the steps I was required to take to call you out here, but you can understand why I wouldn’t want to be seen quite so openly within Yoran.”
The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3 Page 10