“How is that even possible?”
“How am I supposed to know? I’m no sorcerer.”
The ropes had been enchanted by Olivia, an enchantress who should’ve managed to hold a sorcerer with them. When she had bound Gavin in those ropes to test their strength, he had to draw upon a considerable source of power to break free of the bindings. Not that he was more powerful than a sorcerer, but he did have experience breaking through bindings. That they would fail against a sorcerer—and so quickly—surprised him.
Gavin needed to try a different approach. Staying here wasn’t going to be the safest strategy. He had to get out of here. He could figure out what they’d taken from the Captain later.
Escape first.
The dagger flashed with an occasional pulse of power, suggesting that magic continued to flare. That had to be the sorcerer. Gavin didn’t see him anywhere nearby, but he could detect the use of magic reflected in the glow of the El’aras dagger. He could practically feel something as it slammed against the building, though he didn’t know if that came from the sorcerer or if there was somebody out there with enchantments. If it was someone with enchantments, Gavin had a better chance of dealing with them. If it was the sorcerer…
He had to be careful anyway because he had limited reserves of power. Not like the sorcerer, who seemed to have incredible access to magic.
Another blast struck at him.
Gavin raced toward one of the darkened buildings and slammed a shoulder into it, realizing as he did that he’d headed toward the building with the red awning. With a burst through his core reserves, he popped the door open. The room was empty. Gavin backed in. Power continued to build from the sorcerer.
He had to escape.
“Balls,” he whispered.
“What was that?” Wrenlow asked.
“I’m not going to be able to get out this way.”
“You could take them on.”
“I’ve already used too much energy,” Gavin muttered.
“Then run,” Wrenlow said.
His only option was to go through the back of the building.
Gavin backed up and felt movement behind him.
He spun, sweeping the sword, and managed to cut through a surge of magic. The blade glowed brightly, and the sorcerer that was there was not supposed to be there.
How did they appear behind me?
Gavin darted forward. He rolled into another room, threw the door closed, and jumped to his feet. The room was empty, much like the last. No decorations. A rug across the floor but no furniture. Nothing other than a window. That was the only other way out of here.
Gavin raced toward the window and pushed it open, and he looked out into the night. The window looked out onto an alleyway. He paused for a moment, lingering as he looked down, then jumped through the window.
He crept back along the alley. “You need to give me directions from here,” he told Wrenlow.
“Where are you?”
“An alley outside of a window off the back of the building.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” Wrenlow asked.
“I was hoping you might be able to offer me someplace to go for safety,” he said.
There was silence for a moment, and Gavin continued making his way along the alley, looking from side to side for any sign of movement. He didn’t notice anything, but he couldn’t tell if he was alone or not. For all he knew, he was not. The sorcerer had surprised him—twice. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think it could happen again. He listened to the sounds of the street, but he didn’t detect anything else out there with him.
Gavin watched the blade to see if it might glow. “Wrenlow?”
“I’m trying to help you, but…”
“But what?”
Wrenlow sighed. “If you’re in the part of the city I think you are, I don’t see any way for you to go.”
“What do you mean?” Gavin asked.
“If you are where I think you are, then there isn’t any place for you to go.”
Gavin frowned, trying to think of another option.
Shadowed movement came down the alley, and his sword started to glow.
Magic.
The damn sorcerers.
Worse, he was trapped.
Chapter Six
Gavin was in a fenced-in area, the walls towering overhead, and much as Wrenlow had suggested, there really wasn’t any way for him to escape other than heading back in to face the sorcerers he detected.
He looked for another possibility.
The sword continued glowing, and it took on an increasing brightness compared to what it had before. Gavin didn’t know if that meant the sorcerers were getting close, but he suspected it couldn’t be anything good.
“There might be something you can try.” Wrenlow’s voice came through the enchantment.
Gavin waited. He couldn’t see anything on the other side of the walls but increasingly thought that he would have to try.
“If my map is correct”—and Wrenlow’s tone of voice suggested that he would be shocked if it weren’t—“then if you take the wall to your left, there should be an alley to buildings over, and from there—”
“I’m on it.”
Gavin took a running start at the wall, and he jumped, pushing off while summoning power from his core reserves at the same time. The jump carried him up, higher than he would’ve expected, and he reached the top of the wall more easily than he had anticipated. He landed there, and it gave him a moment to pause. The sword continued to glow, and Gavin scrambled forward, jumping to a nearby rooftop until he found the alley Wrenlow had described.
Gavin backed along the alley as quickly as he could, looking in either direction. He was cautious as he moved through the streets, cautious as he headed along the alley. He gripped the El’aras dagger tightly, watching for signs of the glowing light that signified magic. So far, there had been nothing.
The streets were quiet as well. He didn’t know what to make of that, only that with the silence, any movement he made would be noticeable. He had to be careful. He didn’t need to be drawing any extra attention to himself.
The wind whistled softly, increasing in intensity since the last time he’d heard it, and an occasional rumble of thunder came in the distance. Maybe there would be a storm. There hadn’t been many in his time in Yoran. He didn’t know if a storm would help or hinder him.
“Gavin?”
“Just a moment,” he whispered. “I think there’s something here.”
“What is it?”
“Some sort of danger coming my way,” Gavin said. He rested his back against a building in the alley, looking in either direction. The alley was completely dark, and he saw no movement. He held out the El’aras dagger but didn’t find anything with that either.
“What sort of danger?” Wrenlow asked.
“The kind that involves men creeping toward me,” Gavin said.
“What type of men?”
“The dangerous type.”
He reached the alley.
Gavin didn’t like his odds if there was a sorcerer, not as tired as he felt. The use of his core reserves had tapped enough of his strength that he wasn’t sure he had enough to try it again. If it came down to attempting to use it or dying, he would have no choice, but he didn’t like those possibilities.
Gavin looked up at the buildings. There was darkness overhead, but he might be able to scale the walls. He had done it before. He’d learned a specific fighting style, Pakol, that helped him stretch out his arms and legs away from him and scramble along that way. The ancient fighting style was all about fluidity and rapid movements, avoiding quick and sudden jolts. The fluidity allowed him to bound his way up the walls, but only if he worked quickly. It depended on where he climbed as well. Gavin wasn’t entirely sure that this place was quite as stable as he needed for the technique to be effective.
The blade continued to glow, exposing him. He sheathed the sword. There was no way for him to climb
while holding on to the blade, but he couldn’t see anything without it. He might be able to feel something or detect anything nearby, but he would have to work quickly.
Gavin pushed off the side of the building and kicked his way up. Climbing that way allowed him the opportunity to scale the side of the building, and he reached for the rooftop.
Something whipped beneath him. Gavin lifted himself up, managing to get above whatever grabbed him right before something else pulled at him.
He rolled onto the roof and sprang to his feet, then started running. He unsheathed the El’aras dagger, wanting something to warn him of a magical attacker nearby. The dagger glowed, lighting his way. Though he knew he should be concerned by that glow, he was still thankful for the benefit it offered.
Gavin followed the slope of the roof. He tried to hurry as quickly as he could, but he stumbled. As he rolled down the rooftop, the thundering of footsteps caught his attention. He tried to brace himself, worried about crashing into the next building or even tumbling off the rooftop, but he skittered to a stop. Thankfully, he didn’t slide all the way off. If he had, though, at least he liked his odds. He knew how to twist while falling, and he could careen to the ground without crashing and breaking too much. Besides that, he healed relatively well.
He stood up and turned toward the sound of footsteps.
Somebody was chasing him.
He jumped from one rooftop to the next, clearing an alley. As he did, he paused, looking down at the El’aras dagger. It didn’t glow nearly as brightly as it had been before.
Gavin looked behind him. At least three pursuers.
So much for one person responsible for what had happened to the Captain.
There had only been the one, though.
He didn’t think these attackers had magic, given how the light of the dagger was fading. That didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous, though, only that they weren’t going to attack him from a distance. He jumped across another alley, racing up the sloped slate rooftop, and then jerked to a stop.
Something held on to him, wrapping around him and keeping him from moving. Gavin tried to lunge against it, to surge past that sense of power, but he couldn’t do it. There was too much magic used against him.
He attempted to reach for that core reserve of power deep within him, but there wasn’t much left. If he were to pull on it, he didn’t know if he could survive the attempt.
He had to try a different technique. He strained again to get free but couldn’t get through. Every attempt failed.
Gavin’s El’aras dagger started to glow even more brightly.
He needed strength.
“Gavin?”
In his concentration, he hadn’t been listening to Wrenlow. Even now, as he heard his friend’s voice, he didn’t know if he could speak loud enough for Wrenlow to hear him. With the type of magic used on him, it was possible it would restrict him from doing anything—and saying anything.
“Sorcerer,” he whispered.
“Where are you?”
“Rooftop.”
“Can you do anything?” Wrenlow asked.
“No.”
The movement behind him loomed even closer.
Gavin could already feel the magic constricting him. He didn’t have enough strength to break the magical bands. All he had was the El’aras dagger.
Is there any way to channel power into that?
“Where on the rooftop?” Wrenlow said.
Gavin took a deep breath, flicking his gaze around. “I don’t know. Several streets over from where I was first attacked.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Gavin almost laughed, knowing there was nothing that Wrenlow could do to help him. He was alone. Any help Wrenlow might send wouldn’t get to him in time.
Power continued to squeeze him, and he fought against it, straining to see if there was any way that he could break free. He continued to struggle, feeling the sense of energy coalescing around him.
The sound of footsteps across the rooftop drew his attention, and Gavin turned his head to see where the footsteps were coming from. As he focused, he tried once more to draw upon the core reserves of energy within him. Gavin called on that, letting that sense of power bubble up within him.
There had to be something that he could do; some way to reach that energy.
The footsteps were coming closer, and the three attackers were moving across the rooftop as well. The combination of the two would be more than what Gavin could withstand.
Irritation filled him—something he might be able to use, to help him summon energy. When it came to calling upon his core reserves, it was all about finding strength.
The band of power around him squeezed even more. Gavin reached deep within him. He held on to that sense of energy, and the power bulged. It was only a little bit, enough that he felt the energy starting to slide. He shifted his arm that was holding the dagger so that he could pull it up. He placed the dagger near his chest.
The blade faced outward, and Gavin held it tightly, squeezing it as the magic pressed against him. He twisted the end of the blade and pushed it slowly forward. Gradually, he could feel the blade cutting through the magic.
The sorcerer who approached him used even more power as he did, drawing upon enough magic to crush Gavin.
Now that Gavin held the El’aras dagger up, he had some control over the blade. He might be able to use that control and find the key to breaking the power wrapping around him.
More power squeezed him again. Gavin ignored it, focusing instead on the dagger. It was the only thing he could concentrate on, the only energy he had. He’d have to use what he could of the dagger to find the strength to break free.
Gavin twisted the blade. He tilted, just enough that he could cut into the spell. As he did, the spell squeezing around him started to shift. And relax.
He tried again. This time, he attempted a different technique.
“Gavin? They shouldn’t be long.”
“Who shouldn’t be long?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Help.”
He didn’t think he had time to wait for help. Wrenlow would likely have called Gaspar or maybe even Imogen. She might be able to help, but only if she got here in time. He’d seen her handle the Mistress of Vines, so he knew a sorcerer didn’t terrify her, but this felt different somehow.
Gavin twisted, forcing the blade forward. It carved slowly, the magic holding him starting to fade, but the footsteps sounded even closer to him. He shoved the El’aras dagger outward, drawing upon the last of his strength—at least, what he thought was the last of his strength.
The magic holding him slithered away. Gavin danced back and dropped low, narrowly avoiding the sorcerer’s next attempt at trying to wrap him in power. As he did, Gavin brought the El’aras dagger up overhead.
He rolled down the sloped roof, banging his knee on a metal chimney. He didn’t want to stay here any longer than was necessary, and at least having these others near him gave him an opportunity. Gavin took that chance by rolling, and he slammed into something.
He didn’t see anything, only felt the resistance against him when he rammed into it. He tried to get back to his feet, but he struggled. Gavin slashed outward with the El’aras dagger. The blade carved through magic, not an attacker. The magic exploded around him, and he tumbled to the side, kicking.
He barely escaped, and he rolled again, this time spinning his legs and sliding down the rooftop. When he reached the edge of it, he dropped to the street below.
Gavin had no idea where he was, only that he had to move as quickly as he could. The sound of pursuit roared behind him as he ran. He ignored that, focusing on sprinting. Only, he couldn’t head straight toward the Dragon.
If the pursuers knew it was him out there and discovered where he was staying, the tavern would be attacked. Again. Gavin wasn’t going to be responsible for the Dragon getting attacked a second—or, really, a third—time.
What he had to do
was take a roundabout way, but even that might not be the most effective. Wrenlow might have called for help for him, but there might be other help he could summon. If only he could reach the enchanters.
They owe me, don’t they?
Zella had sent the old lady to him. It was because of her that he’d gotten mixed up in whatever this was.
Gavin raced ahead and switched directions. Now, as he was running, he did so with a different purpose. He wasn’t heading toward the Dragon but was instead heading through the city, trying to meander as quickly as he could but moving generally toward the enchanters. They were here somewhere.
Gavin held out the El’aras dagger, using the blade to help guide him, worried that there was still a hint of a glow to it. Magic was still out there, which meant he wasn’t any safer. Fatigue washed over him, enough that he thought he might collapse, but he had to keep moving.
In the distance, the sounds of the city started to shift. Still, he could hear footsteps behind him. It was dark, late enough that he shouldn’t see anything, but he could make out everything around him with the glowing dagger. Even the streetlights in the city had been extinguished for the night.
Gavin rounded a corner, and then he saw the building he sought. As he glanced over his shoulder, the steady sound of movement came toward him. The dagger continued to glow, getting brighter.
This was a mistake.
Gavin raced up to the short door made of darkened oak. None of the buildings nearby had lights on. The only thing that glowed was his dagger. He pounded on the door, worried that this wouldn’t work.
“Open up,” he said, hammering his fist on the door.
The dagger flashed with sudden bright light. Bands of power swirled around him.
He should’ve been holding the dagger up to his chest just in case, but he had made a mistake. He’d been using it for light, not protection. Gavin shifted his hands, and he brought the dagger back up, though even that wasn’t enough. He couldn’t move as the bands of power squeezed him.
Then he felt something else. Another sense of pressure behind him.
The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3 Page 62