“Tristan taught me most of them, but I’ve learned a few more since I left him.”
“How can you learn a fighting style so quickly?”
“Many different techniques borrow from each other,” Gavin said, shrugging. “And that makes it easy for you to connect the techniques. When you learn one, and discover its strengths, you can start to work on its weaknesses, as well. When you know enough different fighting styles, you can use the weaknesses of one style, augmented with the strength of another, and ideally, you become unstoppable.”
“The greatest fighter in the city.” Gavin lunged toward Wrenlow, who jumped back, laughing. “Fine. I will give you the greatest fighter in this part of the kingdom. How about that?”
He shook his head. “You know, I never wanted to be the greatest fighter before.”
“What did you want to be?”
Gavin frowned. What would I have wanted to be?
He hadn’t even given it much thought.
Before he had gone to Tristan, he had never wanted to be a fighter. He had never wanted to learn to fight. Then again, with as few memories as he had of that time, he didn’t know if he had always been destined to be a fighter. Maybe this was always going to be who he was. There was no denying the fact that he was skilled.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I thought I was going to be a scribe,” Wrenlow said.
“You are a scribe.”
“I’m more than that,” he said.
“Most of the time,” Gavin said, laughing softly. He brought his hands up. “We’re going to start with the Jasap style. It is one that’s all about flow. It’s easier to learn, hard to master, but useful since very few people have seen it, and those who have are unlikely to attack you.”
“And this is one that Tristan taught you?”
“One of them.”
“Did you ever beat him?”
“I don’t know,” Gavin said, stepping back and taking his opening fighting stance.
“How is it that you don’t know?”
“I don’t know what was a test and what was not,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Because much of what he did to me was a test.” He stepped forward, nodding. “Now are you going to keep talking, or are you going to fight?”
“You don’t often talk about your past, so I was thinking maybe I would keep talking,” Wrenlow said, grinning.
“If you want to be even somewhat competent, you’re going to have to be able to stop this,” Gavin said, darting forward and striking outward.
Wrenlow stood fixed in place.
Gavin pulled back at the last possible second, grazing Wrenlow across the chest.
“You have to do a little bit better than that.”
“I didn’t know that was going to be the first attack,” Wrenlow said.
Gavin smiled tightly. Maybe he did need to work with Wrenlow, if only so that he could help him not be completely helpless if he were attacked. Gavin couldn’t afford to lose him. Not with everything else that they were doing, and with what was taking place in the city. He needed Wrenlow to be able to gather information. And it wouldn’t do for Wrenlow to get hurt in the process. He was a friend. Gavin didn’t have many of them, and couldn’t afford to lose one.
“I’m going to start a little slower with you this time,” Gavin said. “Watch where my hand goes.”
Wrenlow nodded. Gavin moved slowly, much more slowly than Tristan had ever been with him, and he pushed that thought aside.
Why did I need to be as forceful as Tristan had been with me?
He could be kinder and gentler in his instruction.
Wrenlow was his friend, after all.
And maybe it was long past time for Gavin to teach him.
Chapter Sixteen
The street looked emptier than it had when Gavin had come the first time. The air was cool and crisp, typical for the city. Shops all around had started to come alive, and while there wasn’t much activity along the street itself, there was plenty within the buildings he passed on the way to find Davel Chan.
There was no answer when Gavin knocked on the door in the early morning. He pounded on it, trying to get the man’s attention, but still he didn’t come to the door.
Standing back, Gavin unsheathed the El’aras dagger slightly, but there was no glow to the blade. Davel wasn’t here using magic, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here at all.
Gavin tested the door. It was locked. He didn’t have Gaspar’s ability at breaking into locked areas, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get past the door. He jabbed the dagger into the doorframe and pried. The El’aras blade was incredibly strong, and it made the wood around the door scream in protest. The door popped open.
Gavin stepped into the house. He paused a moment, letting his eyes adjust as some of the light from the street drifted into the room. Everything looked the same as last time.
“What are you doing here?”
Gavin spun, holding the dagger out from him.
Gaspar stood in the doorway.
“I figured I’d start with my other employer and see if I could come up with anything to help us figure out more about the jade egg job.”
“He was here?” Gaspar asked. He began to sweep through the room, quickly surveying everything, opening and closing doors, sorting through things.
When Gavin had first seen Gaspar go through this process, he’d assumed that it was because of Gaspar’s background as a thief. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps there was a different reason.
Gaspar had been a constable. Gavin wouldn’t be surprised if the constables hurriedly searched houses like this with the ability to find magic users.
“There’s nothing here,” Gaspar said.
“I know there’s nothing here. I looked.”
Gaspar arched a brow at him. “I figured I would take a look myself. You have a tendency to miss things.”
Gavin shook his head. “And you have a tendency to be an ass.”
Gaspar laughed. “Your other sorcerer friend had a lair beneath his home. Do you think there might be something here?”
“I don’t really know,” Gavin said with a shrug. “It’s possible. Of course, if he does, that means this man has magic that’s more potent than I think.”
“Should we look for it?”
Gavin headed toward one of the back rooms. He paused for a moment in the doorway and didn’t see anything on the floor. No sign of a trapdoor.
He shook his head. “There’s nothing here. We could go to Cyran’s lair and see if there’s anything there.”
“Do you think there might be anything more than what you already observed?”
Gavin shrugged. “I don’t know. Other than what’s in the lair? When I was there, I was more concerned about getting out and returning to the Dragon. I was a little preoccupied, worrying about what might happen to the rest of you.”
“I see. Maybe while we’re working together we can work on increasing your observational skills.”
“You’d take me on as an apprentice?” Gavin asked, offering a hint of a grin. Maybe he could get Gaspar to talk about his other apprentices.
“Doubt you’d be able to help me nearly as well as you helped your previous mentor.” Gaspar motioned for him to move. “Well?”
Gavin shook his head and headed back to the street toward Cyran’s home on the outskirts of the city. Gaspar stayed with him, saying nothing. They reached the home, and Gavin looked around before opening the door.
A blast of power exploded toward him.
Without really thinking about what he was doing, Gavin drew on his core strength. He let it flow up from some deep part of him, and it crashed into the explosion. Each time that he reached for it now, it was as if there were some pool of reserve energy sitting deep within him. All he had to do was dig into it and pull it through him.
He had no idea what it was, and if it were magic, then so be it. At this point, it mattered little to
him what he used, just so long as it was effective.
Gavin scrambled to his feet and drew the El’aras dagger.
Gaspar pressed behind him. “What was that?” he whispered.
“It seems as if the Mistress of Vines decided to prepare for the possibility we might return,” Gavin said.
“Are you sure it was her?”
Gavin looked along the street. There had been so much trouble in this home. “I don’t really know anymore. Given what we’ve gone through, it seems reasonable.”
“It’s also reasonable that Cyran, or whoever he was working with, came back,” Gaspar said.
Gavin shook his head. “I don’t think that was him.”
“But you don’t know.”
“We can’t know that.”
Gavin held the dagger out from him. As he walked slowly forward, he could feel the energy of the explosion. It left his skin tingling, every bit of him on edge. He frowned and moved into the room.
There was nothing.
“Well?” Gaspar asked.
“There’s no sign that anybody’s been here,” Gavin said.
“Good.”
Gaspar hurried into the room, and he quickly began to examine it. He pulled open cupboards and flipped through things, moving with that same practiced style. Gaspar didn’t seem to pause in front of anything either. He simply kept moving, and Gavin didn’t see anything else in the room.
“I looked already. I think he moved anything of value before he left.”
“Only he didn’t leave. He was captured,” Gaspar said.
“Captured, but he thought he had removed me as a threat at that point. That’s why I think he would have taken everything.”
Gaspar continued to sort through things, and he came to a locked cupboard. After pulling out a lockpick and trying to pick the lock, he looked over at Gavin.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Gavin said. He hadn’t seen it when he’d gone through the first time—or he hadn’t paid any attention to it.
“A locked cupboard in the middle of all of this? You don’t think that means anything?”
“It wasn’t in his sorcerer’s lair.”
“Maybe it’s not anything magical,” Gaspar said.
There was nothing particularly unique about it, except that it was locked where the other cupboards were not. Gavin tested it by pulling on it.
Gaspar laughed. “If it was unlocked, I would’ve pulled it open. I think you have to do something to it.”
“I have to do something? You’re the thief. At least, you’re a thief now.”
Gaspar shot him a side-eyed stare. “Is it going to be like that?”
“It’s not like anything. I recognize there’s a story you’re not telling me. I figure you’ll get to it in your own time.”
“No time,” Gaspar said. “Especially since we both got our secrets.”
“Yours deals with what you went through here. I think your history as a constable makes a difference.”
“Not anymore. What I was has no bearing on anything we have to do.”
“I think knowing that you had history with the constables has some bearing. Actually, given what we’ve seen, I think it has considerable bearing.” Gavin stepped back from the cupboard. “Just open it already.”
“You don’t think that I’ve tried that?”
“Not really. I’ve seen you pick locks before.”
“I’ve already tried to pick this lock,” Gaspar said. “It’s your turn.”
Rather than continuing to argue, Gavin stepped forward. He held the El’aras dagger out. It started to glow.
“What did I say?” Gaspar said.
“That’s enough.”
“It has magic. I thought it might.”
“You only thought it might because you weren’t able to open it,” Gavin said.
“That’s reason enough.”
Gavin jammed the dagger into the cupboard. The blade flashed briefly, and the cupboard popped open.
Gaspar pushed past him, smiling tightly. “See? What did I say?”
“It’s not that I did anything. It’s more the El’aras blade that did it.”
“You go ahead and tell yourself that all you want.”
Gavin looked over Gaspar’s shoulder, trying to see what was inside the cupboard. There were bottles of powder. Gavin reached over Gaspar and ignored as Gaspar swatted at his hand, trying to slap him away.
“Why would he keep these locked in here?” Gaspar asked.
“Because they’re dangerous. Or valuable,” Gavin said.
He could think of several reasons why these powders would’ve been locked up. He thought back to when he’d visited Cyran here and what he’d seen then. Cyran had made a tea.
Had he been standing by this counter?
“Grab them,” Gavin said.
“We don’t know what they are,” Gaspar said.
“We don’t, but I think we need to take them with us. If they were important to Cyran, then they might be important to us.”
Gaspar studied him for a moment before shrugging and grabbing the vials. He stuffed them into his pocket and then looked around. “I don’t see anything else here.”
“I don’t either. We can go down to the lair, but I don’t know what we’re going to find there.” Other than the artifacts that were there, though that depended upon them knowing what to use them for.
Gavin led him to the back room and pulled the trapdoor open. He paused in front of it and looked down the ladder. The dagger didn’t glow. Perhaps that should’ve reassured him, but after what he’d experienced when he’d been down here before…
He sheathed the El’aras dagger and unsheathed the sword, holding it at the ready.
Gaspar looked over at him, frowning. “Do you think you’re going to need that?”
“Who knows, but I want to be prepared for the chance she might be here. This is the only thing that worked against her.”
Gavin headed down the ladder and paused, swinging the sword out in front of him. He waited for it to glow, but no light came from its blade, so he didn’t have to be as concerned about any potential attacker coming at him. He lingered there a moment but didn’t see anything more.
Gaspar followed. “What is this?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The rubble here.”
“That’s the ceiling.” Gavin pointed to the collapsed ceiling overhead. “She tried to crush me.”
“I can’t even imagine what you did to get through here.”
“I used the sword.”
Gaspar frowned again, staring at the blade. “I think you and I are going to have to talk about this lack of magic you have.”
Gavin chuckled. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
If it was magic, then he would have to learn how to control it. It wouldn’t be sorcery, which involved techniques and spells and other sorts of power that Gavin simply didn’t have. Whatever he called on through the core reserves he possessed was different, something intrinsic to him, which was different than how sorcerers called magic, and even more different than how enchanters placed magic onto items. If only he had an opportunity to talk to somebody he could trust.
Maybe even somebody he couldn’t trust.
Anna might help, but that involved calling her through the enchantment she’d given him. So far, he’d been reluctant to do so, mostly because he didn’t know how she’d react if he were to use it.
Gaspar shook his head. “You keep saying that you don’t have any magic, but…”
Gavin paused, tracing his hand over one of the stones. He grabbed one the of rocks by the side and grunted as he tried to lift it. He finally abandoned it.
They climbed over the debris in the small passageway until they reached the door at the end of the tunnel. Gavin rested his hand on it and pulled upon that energy within him. He summoned that reserve of power the way he had before, and he yanked on the door. It came surging open.
This time, Gav
in could feel exactly what he did. There was something within him that exploded, some source of power, and it combined with whatever energy was on the door to enable him to open it. He stared at the other side.
“This is his lair,” he said softly.
Gaspar stood in the doorway, sweeping his gaze around. He didn’t step inside. Rather, he remained at the threshold, a strange expression in his eyes.
“What is it?” Gavin asked.
“When I was in my other role—”
“You mean when you were a constable?”
“I never came across a sorcerer’s lair. We knew they created them, but we never found one. We spent countless hours searching. We found many of their homes, but never anything like this. We should have found this though.”
“I hadn’t looked closely enough,” Gavin said. Gaspar arched a brow at him. “Besides, Cyran hadn’t been here that long.”
“This was once the home of a sorcerer named Mesmer. He was removed about twenty years ago, and the home was empty since then.”
“Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Because it didn’t make a difference. There were plenty of people who moved into old sorcerers’ homes. Back in the day, there probably were several dozen sorcerers throughout Yoran. Hell, they even had a school here for a time.”
Gavin’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“All of that ended when Tagus took power.”
“Why?”
“He abused it. It didn’t take long for there to be a rebellion. I think Tagus thought he’d be able to survive the rebellion better than he did. Unfortunately for him, there were others who had their own sort of power.”
“Other sorcerers?”
“No. The other sorcerers were concerned about Tagus. They had different factions, and none of them were particularly willing to take him on. It was the enchanters. They weren’t nearly as powerful as sorcerers, which allied them with others in the city without power.” Gaspar smiled tightly. “I think that most of the enchanters believed they would be permitted to stay in power, such as it were, but they didn’t realize that the magic they possessed would eventually draw the attention of those who had their own magical power. Ultimately, the enchanters were the reason for their own downfall.”
The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3 Page 44