The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3

by Holmberg, D. K.

  He glanced back over his shoulder, his head still able to move. The door was open, and darkness loomed on the other side.

  Where are the sorcerers? Where are the other attackers?

  Something exploded near him. The power holding on to him faded. Gavin stumbled, falling backward. There was another explosion, and then a third. They came one after another, relentless bursts of power.

  He staggered back, collapsing into the building.

  He scrambled deeper into the room. The door thudded shut. Gavin rolled over, pulling out the dagger. The room was small and simple, reminding him of the windowed room that he had darted out of while trying to find what he’d been hired to acquire. No decorations adorned the walls, and there was no furniture inside. In this room, there wasn’t even a rug.

  Just a figure looming in front of him.

  Gavin looked up. “Thanks for the help, Zella.”

  Chapter Seven

  Gavin leaned at the window, looking out. He didn’t see any sign of his pursuers. That didn’t mean they weren’t out there. It just meant that he couldn’t see them. Maybe the enchanters had intimidated the pursuers enough to give him space. He just didn’t like the idea that he didn’t know what was going on.

  He also didn’t like the idea that he was dealing with sorcery. Again.

  It was times like these when he wished that he would have asked Olivia to create another enchantment. One that enhanced eyesight might not be a terrible idea. He refrained from using the enchantment he kept on him to augment his speed and strength. Becoming reliant upon that kind of enchantment could be dangerous if it meant that he’d end up depending upon it rather than his skill. He had trained far too long to lose that.

  There was nothing but darkness out there, and as he glanced down at the dagger, he knew that heading out wasn’t quite safe just yet. The blade continued to glow with enough light that he knew he had to be cautious.

  “Why have you brought this to us?” Zella asked.

  “You’re the one who got me involved,” he started, pulling the note he still had in his pocket and holding it out to her, “so don’t get on my case. Besides, it was the only thing I could think of doing.”

  “You could have handled it.”

  Gavin glanced over his shoulder. There were two other enchanters with her. One of them was Mekal, who glared at him, though not with the same intensity that he once had. Mekal looked to be in his mid-teens, though Gavin knew that he was older. His beard had filled in a little bit since Gavin had last seen him, and he had wide-set eyes and a dark shock of hair. He was a few inches shorter than Gavin, though taller than his brother, Kegan.

  The other person with her had a youthful face that was unfamiliar to him.

  “This is me handling it,” Gavin said.

  “By bringing danger to my people.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, you started it.”

  Zella cocked her head, looking as if she wanted to say something, but she bit it back. She watched him with her deep brown eyes, her hawkish stare seeming to sweep over him, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he wanted nothing more than to back away.

  She had dark hair and a sharp chin, and though she looked young, she wasn’t. None of the enchanters were actually young. All of them seemed to have frozen in time, the moment the enchantment had swept over the city and torn their families away from them. When power had shifted.

  Gavin turned his attention back out to the street, looking through the window. “The Captain is dead. I went to talk to him. Got attacked by one person and followed him. Now there are at least two sorcerers here.”

  “We have detected three,” she said.

  Gavin glanced back. “Three?”

  She nodded. “Three, but we have been able to erect enough of a barricade around us that prevents them from getting too close.”

  He frowned. “How long will something like that hold?”

  “Long enough.”

  “Long enough for what?”

  “For us to leave,” she said.

  Gavin smiled tightly. His time around Zella had proven just how strong she was, yet he doubted she wanted to tangle with any of the sorcerers. Despite her confident stance, he didn’t think there was anything the enchanters could do against sorcerers like that.

  “One of them called himself the Fate. Does that make any sense to you?”

  Wrenlow hadn’t known anything about the Fates, but Wrenlow wasn’t nearly as plugged in to the magical world as Zella. Perhaps she would know something that Wrenlow wouldn’t.

  Her eyes widened.

  “What is it?” Gavin asked.

  “Are you sure that’s what they said?”

  “My hearing isn’t bad,” he said.

  “They said the Fates?”

  Gavin nodded.

  Zella disappeared into a room at the back of the building, though he could still hear her shuffling around.

  “Who is he?” Gavin asked Mekal, nodding to the newcomer before turning his attention back to the window.

  “This is Jesol,” Mekal said.

  “What sort of enchantment skill does he have?” Gavin asked.

  He had learned that the enchanters each had their own areas of expertise. Mekal was skilled with animating figurines that he created. Gavin had barely survived when Mekal had used one of those figurines against him.

  “Many skills,” Jesol said.

  Gavin looked back and grinned at him. “Good.”

  “What do you expect to see out there?” Mekal asked, coming closer.

  Gavin shook his head. “Maybe nothing. Maybe something.”

  “That really doesn’t help,” Mekal said.

  “There were three attackers when I was on the roof, not counting the sorcerer. I figure that any one of them could be here. Of course, I can’t see a damn thing, so I can’t tell if they’re out there.”

  Gavin continued peering out in the distance. Mekal joined him at the window and stood alongside him, peering over his shoulder.

  “You don’t have to stand so close,” Gavin said.

  “I thought I would help.”

  “You’re not helping by standing there.” Gavin shifted his feet, moving over so that Mekal could look out with him.

  He turned away from the window. There was no movement. There was nothing.

  “I’m sure we could help you see better at night with an enchantment,” Mekal said.

  “No enchantment,” Gavin said, tempting as it was.

  “What do you have against them?”

  “I don’t have anything against enchantments, per se. It’s just…” Gavin still preferred not to use enchantments if he could avoid it. There were only a few he trusted—like the one that allowed him to communicate with Wrenlow. If that failed, he didn’t feel like he would be as lost as he might be were he to come to rely upon an enchantment for sight or speed or strength.

  “You don’t like us much,” Jesol said.

  Gavin glanced over at him. “I don’t know you much. It’s not a matter of liking or not.”

  “But you don’t like us,” Jesol said again.

  Gavin grunted and looked around the room. The space was mostly empty. It had several enchantments around it. Because of those enchantments, they would be safe. He wouldn’t have to worry about an attack, though there remained the possibility that he would still have to fight, were someone to come.

  He waited for Zella to return, hoping to find out what she knew about the Fates.

  “Have you heard anything about the Fates?” he asked, turning to Mekal.

  “No, but I’m not as connected to that world as she is.”

  “That world?”

  “The magical world,” Mekal said.

  “Why not?”

  Mekal shrugged. “I suppose because I just haven’t been as connected to it over the years.”

  Gavin wondered if Zella tried to protect her people, preventing them from accessing that world. It would make a certain sort of sense. Havi
ng more people involved in the magical world put them in danger—at least within Yoran. Other places wouldn’t be nearly as dangerous.

  He started to turn back for the window when Zella came from the back room.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I need to know more about this person you claim was here,” she said.

  “Not claim. Is here. Killed the Captain.”

  “You told me it was one of the Fates.”

  “Right, but what is that?”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” she said, a deep frown creasing her face. “The Fates are a council of sorcerers. The council of sorcerers.”

  Gavin smiled slightly. “What?”

  “Yes, and they are powerful. Dangerous. And they have never come to Yoran before. They control magic everywhere. Like fate. They’re the Fates.”

  “Then maybe it’s not one of the Fates. Somebody like that wouldn’t come here to take on the Captain.”

  “If they claimed that they were, then they were. There is incredible danger to any sorcerer who falsely claims to be one of the Fates.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said.

  “Sense or not, it’s the truth.”

  Gavin sighed. “So we have another sorcerer here.”

  “So? That’s the only thing you can say? I’m telling you that it’s one of the council of sorcerers, and your reaction is ‘so.’”

  “Well, you also said that they’re not supposed to be in Yoran.”

  “It’s not so much that they’re not supposed to be here, it’s that they’ve never been here before. If they have turned their attention to Yoran…”

  Gavin frowned. “What makes you think they haven’t been here before?”

  “Because we’ve been left alone,” she said.

  “The city hasn’t exactly been left alone,” Gavin said.

  “Not the city. Us. Enchanters.” She glanced at the door, mouth pressed into a tight line. “Sorcerers and enchanters have a complicated relationship, and if they are here, they will try to use us. The same way the Mistress of Vines attempted to use us.”

  Gavin frowned even more. Neither Mekal nor Jesol were saying anything. “They may not know you’re here.”

  “They may not have known before, but by you coming here, by us helping you, we’ve now alerted them, if reaching the Captain didn’t do so already.” Zella sighed, turning her attention toward Mekal. “Go make preparations.”

  “How many?” Mekal asked.

  “As many as you can. I’m afraid we will need all of them.”

  Mekal glanced over at Gavin for a moment before turning and heading away.

  Gavin shook his head. “It can’t be all that bad.”

  “I can tell you what I know about the Fates,” she said. “I don’t have much experience with them. Most of us in Yoran don’t, but what I do know is that they are harsh masters.”

  “Listen, Zella. I’ve explored much of the world, and I’ve seen plenty of harsh masters. I’ve been to Cambal, where the sorcerers rule. I’ve been to Bogot, where there’s another type of magical rule. In both places, the leaders are ruthless, and they lead with violence and anger.” And that wasn’t even saying anything about when he had been hired to bring down the Tanran. She had been brutal, no different than so many other sorcerers who decided they could rule. “At least there’s peace here. Now.”

  It was a relative peace, and Gavin knew that. The constables didn’t chase the enchanters the way they once did, though Gavin wasn’t so naïve to believe that everything had been resolved.

  Zella narrowed her gaze at him. “You might’ve been to those places, but what I’m telling you is that the Fates are worse. I don’t know as much as I probably should about the Fates. What I do know is that there are three of them. That we know of. There might be more, though they don’t share their identity. Each is a sorcerer of incredible power. And ruthless. One does not simply become a sorcerer of incredible power without an element of ruthlessness. They rule over the Sorcerer’s Society with power and authority, and they use that for them to rule over the other places you have mentioned. If one of the Fates has come to the city, they all may have. They are ruthless, after all, and I have a hard time thinking that one would allow another to claim whatever prize they are after on their own.”

  Prize?

  Don’t let him take it.

  Gavin’s brow furrowed. He had not been to some of those places in a while, and yet he still couldn’t imagine that what she suggested was real. Given that he wasn’t plugged in to the magical world all that much, he had no idea what was real and what was not. He didn’t think that there was some sort of hidden ruler, though what did he really know?

  “I doubt the Fates are here for you.”

  He wasn’t sure, though.

  Zella sighed. “And here I thought the Mistress of Vines was as bad as it was going to get.” She turned to Jesol. “Watch the window.”

  “What about you?” Gavin asked.

  “I have to go make my preparations.”

  She left him, and Gavin stood there for a moment, staring all around him. There wasn’t anything for him here, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he shouldn’t stay here any longer.

  “What are you doing?” Jesol asked.

  “I think it’s time for me to go,” Gavin replied.

  “She didn’t say that you could go.”

  Gavin smiled at him. “Listen. You’re new. At least, you’re new to me. If you want to live, you’re going to leave me alone.”

  Jesol pulled himself up, holding his gaze on Gavin. “You don’t scare me.”

  “Then you haven’t been paying attention.”

  Jesol eyed him for a moment, and as Gavin reached toward the door, the El’aras dagger started to glow. Gavin shook his head. He darted off to the side and twisted the blade, bringing the hilt up into Jesol’s midsection and knocking the wind out of him.

  Gavin stepped back, letting Jesol fall. “Like I said, you haven’t been paying attention.”

  He reached for the door and pulled it open. Out in the street, darkness surrounded him. The magic that caused the El’aras dagger to glow had faded. There was little left of it, and he didn’t see anything else he needed to be concerned about.

  Gavin jogged along the street in a roundabout path, weaving his way toward the Dragon. He was troubled. If the Fates were as bad as what Zella said, then they were dangerous.

  Don’t let him take it.

  What had the Fates been after?

  Gavin wanted nothing more than to rest, but he didn’t think he would get that chance. He slipped around through the alley, heading into the Dragon a different way. He didn’t want to use the main entrance on the off chance somebody was watching and was aware of what he was doing.

  When he stepped in, a strange surge of energy washed over him. It was an enchantment—and it was a new one. He stepped into the main part of the tavern and found Wrenlow slumped over a table, resting.

  The Roasted Dragon was a comfortable and cozy tavern. With the hearth crackling and the heat of a considerable flame glowing inside, there was something quite welcoming about the place. Tables were scattered around, far more than needed these days. There had been a time when the tavern was busier, a time of music and dancing and activity, but ever since the El’aras had attacked, the tavern had fallen silent.

  Jessica sat in a chair near one corner, the fire crackling warmly next to her, but she looked weary. Her chestnut-colored hair was pulled back in a braid, as usual. She wore an apron, though the only people she cooked for these days were Gavin and Wrenlow, and occasionally Gaspar and Imogen. Even that was increasingly uncommon.

  “What’s going on?” Gavin asked.

  “You,” she said, jumping to her feet, heading toward him. She punched him in the chest.

  “What about me?” he asked, rubbing the spot she hit.

  “You’ve been silent.”

  Gavin remembered he’d forgotten to turn his ear enchan
tment back on. “I’ve been a bit distracted.” He was tempted to tell her about what happened but decided it would be better to share it one time with everyone.

  “Just because you’ve been distracted doesn’t mean that you don’t have an obligation to us,” she said.

  “I’m not trying to ignore you,” he said.

  “What happened?”

  “Let’s talk when Wrenlow is awake.” He looked around. “Do you have any food?”

  She glowered at him. “You come into my tavern after having disappeared for most of the night, and the first thing you ask about is food?”

  Gavin leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I suppose I could ask about ale,” he said.

  She punched him in the chest again. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Well, maybe not nothing. More than what I expected.”

  “The last thing we heard, you were trapped on a rooftop.”

  “That wasn’t the last time,” Gavin whispered.

  At least, he didn’t think it was. The last time he talked to Wrenlow, he had been running through the streets and trying to figure out a safe place to go. It was right before he had gone to the enchanters. Only, now that he was here, he wondered if perhaps he should have been more forthright with Wrenlow.

  Gavin headed toward the kitchen, and Jessica followed. The kitchen of the Roasted Dragon was a large space that had once been a bustling place of energy and activity. The smell of bread baking still permeated the kitchen, and several loaves rested on one counter. Two massive stoves lined the far wall, and a cabinet situated on the opposite wall had all the items that Jessica used in her cooking and baking. All the cooks that she’d once hired had stayed away after the attack.

  He started working through the cupboards. Most of the time, Jessica had some food here, and whether it was dried food or leftovers, he didn’t really care. At this point, the only thing that Gavin wanted was to find something to eat.

  She ignored him as he sorted through cupboards. He grabbed some dried meat, then one of the loaves of bread, which he stacked onto a plate. He headed back out into the tavern's main part and took a seat at one of the tables near Wrenlow.

  “Well?” she asked.