“Are you my employer?”
“Your employer?”
“Aren’t you the one who’s been sending Hamish?”
It was a strange feeling being able to speak but also being unable to move. In the time that he’d trained with Tristan, Gavin had experienced others who had various magical abilities with some component of power, though never a true sorcerer. Sorcery was rare, regardless of where in the world he lived. The Sorcerer’s Society claimed anyone with the ability. Encountering it now in such close proximity and feeling the direct effects of the magic were unpleasant.
It was also terrifying. Gavin could feel that power up against him, rubbing across his skin. It seemed almost as if it were moving, almost as if it actually were quicksand pulling him under.
“As much as I have to admit being curious as to who this Hamish is, I am not that man.”
“And who instructed us to come here?” Gavin asked. If not Hamish, then the encounter in the market had been coincidence? He had a hard time believing that.
“Why, I did.”
He glanced over at Gaspar and Imogen before turning his attention to the edge of the trees. That had to be where Wrenlow was, though given the strength of the power that must be pushing upon Wrenlow, Gavin suspected that his partner wasn’t even able to talk. As far as he could tell, neither could Gaspar nor Imogen.
“Why?”
“I didn’t expect you to bring so many friends. The stories I have of the great Gavin Lorren would suggest he generally works alone. The Chain Breaker, I believe.”
Gavin tensed. Tristan was the only one who ever really called him that. “If you’ve heard any stories about me, then you know that’s not quite true.”
The sorcerer chuckled. His dark eyes seemed to harden, and as he stared at Gavin, there was something almost crazed behind them. It unsettled Gavin in a way that very little did.
“I suppose you’re right. You and your friend Wrenlow have traveled together most recently, but before that, I understand that you were independent.”
“Not entirely independent.”
“No, I suppose all who trained with the great Master Tristan have limited independence.”
Even Hamish didn’t seem to have this level of knowledge about him. Hamish had been able to discover things about Gavin within Yoran, but that was a simple matter of trailing him and acquiring intelligence. Gavin and Wrenlow had intentionally hidden the information this man knew from outside eyes. Part of that came from how he’d moved from place to place, but part of it had been his own desire to suppress anyone from getting too close to him and risking those around him being in danger.
“What do you want?” Gavin asked.
“I want to hire your services.”
“I’m already under contract.”
“I’m aware that you are. It was that contract that drew me to you.”
Gavin frowned. “If you have so much power, why can’t you simply take care of this?”
“An excellent question, and under other circumstances, I’d argue that I would. But my particular talents”—he spread his hands out, and the quicksand magic started to slide even more—“are such that they would attract the wrong kind of attention within Yoran.”
Using magic in Yoran was the kind of attention Gavin was concerned about. There were those within the city who were able to combat magic users, which had kept Yoran safe.
“What’s the job?”
Imogen’s eyes bulged, as if she were straining to say something. The magic that held and constricted her prevented her from being able to do anything.
The sorcerer grinned as he watched her, then turned his attention back to Gavin. He spread his hands out to either side. “What have you heard about the sorcerer known as the Apostle?”
Another sorcerer?
Gavin shook his head. “Am I supposed to recognize that name?”
“I only thought that in your time within Yoran, you would have come across it, but unfortunately…”
Gavin looked behind the sorcerer at Gaspar’s face, which appeared troubled by this. For whatever reason, Gaspar didn’t care for the mention of the name.
“What do you want done with the Apostle?” Gavin asked.
“Why, I want the Apostle removed.”
“Removed?”
“Indeed. I thought the great Gavin Lorren—apprentice to Master Tristan, son of Odian, and bearer of an El’aras dagger—would be capable of such a feat.”
Everything inside of him went cold. This man was mentioning facts that should not have been known. Even Tristan hadn’t known who his father was. It had taken Gavin years to uncover that secret, years that he’d spent searching for information about his heritage.
The sorcerer had made mention of the time that Gavin had spent looking for that information. By then, he’d been separated from Tristan for years and was operating independently until he’d finally met up with Wrenlow.
“I see that I have your attention,” the man said, his voice taking on a dangerous pitch.
Gavin was unable to take his eyes off of him and unable to think of anything that he could say or do. “Who are you?”
“Someone you would do well to heed.”
“I’ve already told you that I’ve been employed by someone else.”
“Just because you’ve taken one job doesn’t mean that you cannot take another.” He flashed a smile, and with a twist of his wrist, Wrenlow was dragged out from the corner of the forest, floating above the ground, everything in his body stiff and tense. With another twist, Wrenlow bent over and cried out.
“You see, you will want to work with me.”
“Because otherwise you’re going to hurt my friends?”
“I know that you care about Wrenlow. Much like you cared about Jessica. A shame what happened to her.”
Anger threatened to build within Gavin. “Was that you?”
“Why would I harm you if I wanted to hire you?” There was something strange about the way he said it with his mouth pressed into a sour line. “No, it has nothing to do with what happened there. But seeing as how you reacted after losing her, I can only imagine how you would feel if it were to happen to someone else you care about. This time, you will be forced to watch.” With another flick of his wrist, Imogen was dragged over next to Wrenlow. She stared straight ahead, her jaw set in a tight expression. The sorcerer twisted his hand again, bending Imogen over at the waist so that her forehead practically touched her toes. It was a wonder that she didn’t scream or cry out, but Gavin had seen how strong Imogen was. She let out a soft whimper.
Damn this sorcerer.
“Enough,” Gavin said.
“Good. Now I have your attention.” With another wave of his hand, both collapsed to the ground. Tears streamed down Wrenlow’s cheeks. Imogen’s face had gone pale, all of the blood seemingly draining out of it.
“What do you need me to do?”
“I thought I was clear. I need you to remove the Apostle.”
“Or what?”
“Or? Haven’t you seen what I’m willing to do?”
“I’ve seen it, but I want to know what else you intend to do. Why can’t you remove the Apostle yourself? I know you claim you aren’t able to operate within Yoran because of the restrictions on magic use, but there’s something else to this.”
“Perhaps there is. It doesn’t matter. All that should matter to you is that I will be watching. Perhaps even listening.”
He smiled as a faint voice trailed into Gavin’s ear through the enchantment. He resisted the temptation to grab for it, pull it away. He stared at the sorcerer.
Who the hell was he?
“What’s my payment?”
“You would seek to bargain with me?”
“Generally, when I’m hired for a job, there’s payment involved. Seeing as how you’re threatening my friends, I would suggest a fee commensurate with the risks that undoubtedly are involved in this.”
The sorcerer surprised him by smiling slightly. “I must say
that I am intrigued by your stubbornness. I wouldn’t have expected you to have quite the spine you do, though the son of Odian should, shouldn’t he?”
Gavin glared at him. There would be questions, mostly from Wrenlow. Imogen knew enough and seemed to have a bright enough mind to ask the right questions. Wrenlow might be able to dig around a little bit, but he wasn’t the one Gavin was concerned about.
Gaspar would certainly look into his heritage. Gavin knew so little about the old thief, other than the fact that he was as well-connected as anyone within Yoran. It was possible—maybe even probable—that he would know others within the city that Gavin would have to be concerned about as well. Gaspar might know others who would provide him the answers he sought. The only protection he had was that the name Odian wasn’t well-known in these lands. It had taken him an extensive period of time to search for it and find what he wanted to know.
“Let’s just say that you will be handsomely rewarded.” The sorcerer reached into his pocket. Gavin tensed, bracing for another wave of magic, but it didn’t come. Instead, the man pulled out a leather pouch and flung it toward him. It jingled loudly as it fell to the ground, and a few golden coins spilled out. “Consider that a prepayment. If you do the job I ask of you, you will receive tenfold that amount.”
Gavin’s gaze lingered on the coins falling out of the pouch. He knew better than to be drawn in by the promise of considerable pay, but others might not be that way. He glanced over at Gaspar, who was eyeing the contents of the pouch almost hungrily. Wrenlow did as well. The only one who did not was Imogen. Gavin wondered if that was because she understood that with an offer of payment like this, there was always some hidden catch.
“How long?”
“How long?” the sorcerer repeated.
“To do the job. Usually when I’m hired, there’s a timeline. I figure you have something in mind, otherwise you wouldn’t have called us out here.”
“You’re mistaken, Gavin Lorren.”
Gavin didn’t care for the way the man kept saying his name, but he was powerless to prevent him from doing so.
“I didn’t call them out here. I called you. You brought them into this.”
Gavin stared at him. “How long?”
“You have a week to remove the Apostle.”
“And then what?”
“And then you will begin to lose friends.”
With that, a haze started to build around the sorcerer, a fog of energy, and he disappeared. The magic that was holding them faded.
Gavin leaned down, grabbing for the contents of the pouch and stuffing the coins back inside. The others were looking over at him, but it was Gaspar who troubled him the most.
“You know him, don’t you?” Gavin asked, straightening and putting the coin pouch into his pocket. “You know the Apostle.”
Gaspar shook his head. “I don’t know him. I don’t know that anyone within Yoran knows him, other than by reputation. He’s a sorcerer who came to Yoran not long ago and quickly gained a reputation. He’s dangerous. Powerful. And if you intend to go after him, then you’re putting yourself into considerable danger.”
Gavin looked at the two still sitting on the ground, trying to get themselves up. “I don’t know that I have much of a choice.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Between this, your other job, and the El’aras, I don’t care for what you’ve brought upon the Dragon.”
Gavin sighed. He would’ve argued and said he hadn’t brought anything upon the Dragon, but that wasn’t true. Whatever had happened was because of him. Whatever was going to happen would be because of him.
“Come on, then,” he said, looking down at the other two before offering a hand in helping them to their feet. “I think it’s time for us to get to work. We have an Apostle to kill, Hamish’s target to find, and the El’aras to stay ahead of.”
He didn’t know which one of those was going to be the most difficult, but they all seemed impossible.
Chapter Eleven
The building rising up in front of him was enormous. It was easily the largest building in all of Yoran, and it towered above Gavin. He stared as he tried to take in the various turrets, the wall that linked them together, and the light glowing within their windows. It was near dusk, late enough that lanterns were already starting to be lit within the palace, but still early enough that the streets were busy. Gavin chose this time to scout so he didn’t draw extra attention to himself. Otherwise, he would run that risk if he were to come any later.
“It’s impressive,” he whispered.
“It is,” replied Wrenlow. “The Captain has the most luxurious palace in all of the city.”
That was an understatement. Whereas there were plenty of other manor houses that were impressive, this one stood above the rest, something even greater and more impressive than any others.
“How did he acquire it?” Gavin asked.
“There are stories about him, though I don’t know how many of them are real. The Captain came to Yoran about thirty years ago and quickly acquired wealth. Some say he had money even before he came, but in the time he’s been in Yoran, he’s become even wealthier. He’s put most of it into building this palace—at least that’s how it seems.”
It was more than just the palace. From what Gavin could tell, it looked fortified, a barricade to possible invasion. It reminded him of some of the fortresses found along the southern border, many of them centuries old. They were built of stout stone with enchantments running through them that linked the stone and made it even stronger. Maybe there were similar enchantments here.
“We don’t even know if the Apostle is going to be inside the palace,” Gavin said.
“We don’t know that he is, but the Captain is the only one in the city with the cache to protect a sorcerer. And with what Gaspar said—”
Gavin started to laugh, cutting off his friend. People near him on the street glanced over, looking at him as if he were mad. He supposed it might look that way. “Now you want to listen to Gaspar?”
“He does have good intelligence,” Wrenlow said reluctantly.
“He’s always had good intelligence. You just didn’t want to listen before.”
“You know that’s not entirely true.”
Gavin smirked, thinking that it was a shame his partner wouldn’t be able to see it. “Tell yourself whatever you need in order to sleep well at night.”
“I’m going to sleep a lot better when you get back here.”
“I’m not breaking in. This is just a simple scouting trip.”
“A scouting trip. Right. Why do I have the feeling it isn’t going to be a ‘simple’ anything.”
Gavin started to retort when the gate to the palace opened. He lingered for a moment and watched as a golden-haired woman stepped out, trailed by five soldiers all dressed in light chain mail, swords sheathed at their sides. They marched rigidly, though only the lead soldier looked around him. He was the one to be concerned about. The others followed orders.
Who was this woman visiting the Captain—and why would someone like her need such protection?
“She’s gorgeous,” he whispered.
“Who?”
“This woman.”
There was something compelling about her, and Gavin was drawn toward her. She was dressed in a sky-blue cloak that covered a pale yellow gown. As she turned and glanced in his direction briefly, he noticed eyes that matched her cloak. They seemed to take him in, swallowing him for a moment, before she turned and looked in the opposite direction.
“Jessica is lying injured, and you’re already drawn to another woman?”
“Jessica would understand,” Gavin said before catching himself. “Hell, I think she’d be interested.”
The gate to the palace closed again, and he hesitated before trailing the woman. He didn’t bother to get too close. There were too many guards around her. Whoever she was, she had money, otherwise she wouldn’t have nearly as many guards as what she had surrounding
her now.
Maybe she was the Captain’s mistress. Gavin couldn’t even blame the man. She was incredibly striking, an almost impossible beauty unlike any he’d seen.
He hesitated, heading toward the woman before casting a glance behind him. Maybe this was a mistake. He shouldn’t be lingering here too long. It would be better for him to return to scouting the palace, but he’d been there for the better part of a few hours and hadn’t come up with anything other than an understanding that it was well fortified. He would’ve expected nothing less given who they were dealing with. The fact that they knew the Captain to be incredibly well-connected—and wealthy—made them anticipate that he’d have the financial wherewithal to afford the best security in all of Yoran.
“What are you doing?” Wrenlow asked from the other side of the enchantment.
Gavin was tempted to mute it and keep Wrenlow from shouting in his ear. If only there was some way to adjust the volume, but he didn’t know how. Given the magical nature of the enchantments, he suspected it was possible but hadn’t uncovered the secret.
“I’m just curious,” he said, heading along the street a little bit further.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman, but the five guards around her also drew his attention.
Who had the Captain been visiting with?
Maybe she was the Apostle. She was young, or at least it seemed that way from a distance. Youth didn’t mean she couldn’t be a sorcerer, though it did make it less likely. The Apostle was rumored to be incredibly powerful, and a sorcerer’s power only increased in time.
Still, it made sense to him that the Captain would be with the Apostle. Someone like that might need a heavy guard in Yoran to keep from revealing their magic. Five soldiers constituted a heavy guard, certainly more than the average merchant would require.
“You should save your curiosity for later. I’m sure I can figure out who some beautiful woman coming out of the Captain’s palace is.”
“Fortress,” he mumbled, turning down the side street where the woman and her guard turned.
In his head, he started doing the numbers. The Apostle was rumored to have come within the last year. Plus she was too young to be a powerful sorcerer. None of it added up.
The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3 Page 11