“I told you I would.”
“What happens if we have to protect it from you?” Davel said, fixing him with a glare.
Gavin opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. What would happen then?
It was a good question—one he hadn’t considered, though he probably should have. He now had access to magic, and he had started to demonstrate a kind of power that meant the others relying on him for protection also had to question whether he would be able to protect them. There was a risk that he might cause more problems than he would solve.
“I don’t think you’ll need to protect the city from me,” Gavin said.
“You don’t think.” Davel sighed and shook his head. “How long are you planning to be here?”
“You’ve asked me that before.”
“And you haven’t answered. In the past, it was to ensure the safety of the enchanters. Then the safety of the city following the attacks of this mentor of yours. And now…”
Gavin could only nod. Davel wasn’t wrong.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m trying to understand what I need to do.”
“Maybe your way of helping would be leaving. Have you given that much thought?”
Gavin turned his attention to the debris strewn around him. “I have.”
“Then maybe that’s what you need to do.”
“It would be easier for you, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re damn right it would. But that’s not even the reason I’m telling you to go elsewhere. It’s not just for me, it’s for the people here. Do you know how we’ve managed to keep magic away?”
“By hiding that you’re using it.”
“By protecting the city from it,” Davel said, shaking his head again. “They’re two different things, and you know it. You, more than probably anybody else in the city, know it. What would have happened had we not been here?”
Gavin didn’t know. And at this point, maybe he couldn’t know.
He took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry for what happened here.”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t rebuild these buildings,” Davel said.
“If you want me to rebuild them, I can certainly work on that.”
Davel grunted. “That’s not even what I care about. These were old, and probably should’ve been torn down long ago. But it’s simply how they were destroyed. People are going to question what happened.”
A comment like that made Gavin think about the El’aras Theren and what he would’ve said. Davel and the El’aras guard would probably have gotten along well.
“You don’t want people to know there’s magic active in the city,” Gavin said.
“No,” Davel said. “I’m dependent on the fact that people don’t about it. They need to feel like they’re safe here, and with everything you’re doing, everything you have done already, they are less and less safe.”
“They aren’t unsafe because of me.”
Davel looked over. “All I ask is that you consider your friends. They are your friends, aren’t they? And if they are, you need to ask yourself if they would want you here or if they would want you to bring your troubles elsewhere.” He watched Gavin for a long moment. “Maybe it’s finally time for you to leave.”
Gavin wanted to argue, but as he looked over the ruins of the buildings he’d destroyed and thought about what had happened throughout his time in Yoran, he started to wonder. Maybe Davel was right. Gavin had been actively considering it. Maybe it was finally time for him to leave the city.
If he did, where would he go?
Chapter Four
The Roasted Dragon was a comfortable and cozy tavern, a place where Gavin had first come when he had arrived in Yoran. It was in an inconspicuous part of the city, surrounded by other businesses that didn’t compete for customers: bakers, wax workers, metalsmiths, and a seamstress. As Gavin approached the Dragon, he could hear the music drifting out and the energy that poured from it—a vibrancy that he remained relieved to see returned to it.
The building itself was simple. The windows had recently been replaced, after some of the attacks that had occurred because of him. The exterior had also been repainted, though not because of him. The proprietor, Jessica, had decided that she wanted to see how the tavern might look with a new paint job.
The door had also remained the same ever since he’d come here. A dragon was carved into the door, and Gavin had always felt intrigued by the creature of myth. They were supposedly powerful animals that could fly upon the wind, breathe fire, and hunt from the skies, all with unrivaled might. There were times when he wished he could be a dragon.
And there were other times when he worried he was a dragon, at least in a metaphorical sense. Dragons would be hunted if they were real. People would fear them and know they had to take out the most dangerous predator. Some would undoubtedly use dragons to test their own mettle. Wasn’t that similar to what happened with him?
He rested his hand on the door and listened for a moment. The sounds of several instruments clashed with a horrible singing voice, and Gavin shook his head. Another damn terrible minstrel troupe. He hadn’t even given Jessica any indication he would be here this evening. Maybe she just liked bad music.
He stepped into the tavern and closed the door behind him. The minstrel troupe played in the front corner, with one man strumming a lute and another on a large barrel-shaped instrument with several strings across its surface. A woman shook a rattle of some sort, tapping her foot in time, creating a rhythmic thumping. All of it created a cacophony of noise.
The rest of the tavern was otherwise quiet. Sometimes the musicians would get people on their feet, dancing and singing and moving around with them—at least when the music was better. But when they were terrible like this, there wasn’t any dancing.
Jessica stepped out from the kitchen, carrying a tray heavy with food and drink, and looked over to him. Her chestnut-brown hair was tied back with a length of purple ribbon, and she flashed a wide smile at him. There was something sorrowful about it, though, and it left Gavin sad for the friendship that had been there before.
She elbowed through the crowd and stopped in front of him, balancing the tray on one hip as she looked up at him. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to come in and have some food and drink for once?”
“I thought maybe I’d stand here and see if your musicians would be done earlier.”
She chuckled. “You don’t like them? I heard about the new troupe playing all throughout the city and gaining attention. I thought it might bring people in.”
She swept her gaze around. There were several dozen people congregated at tables, and most of them were engaged in quiet conversation with each other. At one table, a group of five men played cards, stacks of coin in front of them. At another, two men and a woman leaned forward, talking quietly. A dark-haired woman sat at a table near the back of the room, seemingly studying her mug of ale, though Gavin knew Imogen was aware of everything happening in the tavern. Though he couldn’t see the entire table from his vantage, he suspected that Wrenlow and Gaspar also sat at the table with her.
“I don’t know that you brought anybody in with this troupe,” Gavin said.
“Maybe not yet, but the night’s still early.” Jessica grinned. “Besides, I know how much you like good music.”
“The key word there is good,” Gavin said.
She smirked at him. “Go have a seat. I’ll bring you some food and drink.”
Gavin meandered through the tavern, heading toward the table in the back. As he got closer, Imogen glanced up, enough to give him a notice that she was paying attention.
“If you’re going to come in here, boy, it would be best to do it quickly.”
Something pressed into Gavin’s back. He spun, grabbing Gaspar’s wrist and chopping with his other hand, driving the knife down.
Gaspar chuckled. “See? You think you’re so quick, but you let an old man sneak up on you. What would’ve happened
if I had wanted to stab this knife in your back?”
“Probably would’ve been stabbed in my back,” Gavin said. “But then I would’ve pulled it out and jammed it in your throat.”
Gaspar glared at him. “I still would’ve stabbed you, though.”
“I would’ve healed from that,” Gavin said. It wasn’t boasting. He had healed from things he should never have, and far faster than most would have. His leathers also would’ve protected him somewhat.
“Why are you in such a mood?” Gaspar asked, sliding in next to Imogen.
She glowered at him, looking unhappy that Gaspar had forced her away from the outside of the table. Gavin wondered if Gaspar was even aware of what he did and how he had neutralized the advantage Imogen had in sitting in that spot. Probably not. The old thief probably didn’t see it as anything. Or if he did, it was him thinking he was protecting her in some way, despite how effective Imogen could be in a fight. Gavin doubted there were too many sword fighters of her skill.
“I just destroyed a building,” he said.
“A building?” Wrenlow asked from the other side of the table, picking his head up from a book. He rubbed his face, smearing some ink, before glancing over to Imogen and then to Gaspar. “What do you mean you destroyed a building?”
Gavin told them about how he had been working with Anna on trying to understand the power he possessed, and then what happened.
Gaspar whistled softly. “Can’t say the constables are going to like that.”
“No. Davel came by, and he was most definitely not pleased.”
“You spoke to them already,” Gaspar said. “I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. You must have decided you wanted to get the disappointment in early.”
“It’s not so much about that,” Gavin said. “It’s about acknowledging what I did, and wanting to make sure he doesn’t think there’s more going on in the city than there is.”
He had an idea of what Davel might do if he started to believe there was magic used in the city. There was a real chance he might decide to attack.
“He’s placing enchantments around Yoran,” Wrenlow said, turning his attention back to his book. “I’m not really sure what they are, but I’ve seen him doing it.”
“You’ve seen him placing them?” Gavin asked.
That surprised him. Wrenlow was well connected, though, so he didn’t doubt the information.
Wrenlow looked up and shrugged. “You didn’t think he would do it himself? I don’t know what the enchantments are, but I could go digging if that’s what you want, or… Well, I don’t know what you want.”
“I don’t really know either,” Gavin said.
He didn’t like the secrecy around him, though much of it was his own fault. Had he not come to the city in the first place, there might not be the need for any of this.
Yoran had been targeted because of his presence. Not entirely, and not completely, but often enough that he felt a sense of obligation about what had gone on here, and he had started to question whether he needed to take on a greater role in protecting the city. More so than just encouraging the enchanters and the constables to work together.
He didn’t know what else he could do. If other magical entities started to target the city, there was little Gavin would be able to do. It would require both the enchanters and the constables—who probably had magic, despite their protestations. And it might even involve something greater than that. Gavin didn’t like to think of it, but there may eventually come a time for those with real power to return to the city. He doubted anyone in charge of Yoran would ever welcome the Sorcerer’s Society back, but they may eventually have to. Otherwise, they would run the risk of getting overwhelmed by threats. Having the Society present at least offered a measure of protection.
He looked over to Gaspar. The old thief looked tired, and he rubbed some of the sleep from his eyes before nodding to Imogen.
“What have the two of you been doing?” Gavin asked.
“We’ve done a whole lot of none of your, and a little bit of damn business.”
Gavin laughed. “It’s like that, then?”
“I told you, boy. There are some jobs you can be a part of, and others you can’t. This is one you can’t.”
“What about Wrenlow?”
“We have the kid helping us,” Gaspar said.
Gavin glanced over to Wrenlow. He kept his attention down on the book.
“Is that right?” Gavin said to Gaspar. “You have my man working with you?”
“Seeing as how you haven’t done all that much with him lately, I figured you wouldn’t mind. Besides, you’ve been so tied up with that El’aras, sneaking off with her every day, I didn’t think you would even care.”
Gaspar trailed off as Jessica appeared, sliding a tray onto the table.
Gavin breathed out. The timing wasn’t ideal for her to show up.
“I’ve been working to understand the magic I supposedly have,” he said.
“There’s no ‘supposedly’ about it, is there, boy?” Gaspar grabbed one of the mugs of ale, and he took a long drink. “You’ve already shown you have this magic. Now it’s a matter of trying to control it.”
“She’s helping me learn how to control it too,” Gavin said.
“Can’t say that’s a bad thing. Gods, with you running around the city having uncontrolled magic, you never know what’s going to happen.”
“We won’t have to worry about that for much longer,” Jessica said.
She flopped herself down next to Gavin, who slid over, trying to give her space. She looked over and flashed him a forced smile.
Things continued to be too awkward between them. Here he thought he and Jessica could be friends, but after everything they had done, everything they’d shared, and how much danger Gavin had brought to her place, he didn’t know if that was possible.
And maybe it wouldn’t be. Maybe it couldn’t be.
“What do you mean?” Gaspar asked her.
“The enchantments Wrenlow has seen being placed around Yoran.”
“Do you know what sort they are?” Gaspar said, taking another drink of ale. He glanced over to Imogen, frowning, then looked back at Jessica.
Jessica shrugged, but she turned her attention briefly to Gavin, as if questioning him. Either that, or daring him to question. “Supposedly, they’re meant to mitigate the use of magic within the city.”
“Why would they want to do that?” Gaspar asked. “I’d think the constables would want to continue to have access to their magic. If they mitigate it, then they won’t be able to do anything with it themselves.”
“Neither will anybody else,” Gavin said.
Jessica nodded. “Exactly. They figure if they can place enough enchantments around, they can minimize what others can do. And if they do that, then they can keep anybody else from coming and causing problems. Given everything that’s going on, the constables have a more difficult responsibility protecting the city.”
Gavin knew they did, for the most part. At the same time, he had made a point of telling Davel that he would also do everything he could to protect Yoran.
Maybe that was part of the reason Davel was so intent on offering his protection, trying to make it so the city didn’t have to depend on Gavin and those who were with him.
It was because of the Fates and other threats like them, though he didn’t know if there was really anything else that would pose a greater danger to the city than the Fates. They seemed to have been a devastating danger here.
But if Yoran ended up getting caught up in something else, something greater than the Fates, then even Gavin might not be able to help.
“I haven’t noticed any difference in my magic,” he said.
“I don’t think they finished placing the enchantments,” Jessica said.
“Why would the enchanters be willing to help the constables with that?” Wrenlow asked. He had closed his book, clasping his hands on top of it.
“Mostly be
cause they recognize the dangers as well.” Gaspar shrugged. “Maybe they have ways around it.”
“Unless they will choose to use their magic outside of the city,” Gavin said.
“Could be that too.” He glanced over to Jessica. “Anything more you hear about it?”
“What more is there?” she said. “It makes sense, especially with the rumors going around. Too many people have heard about the attacks, and too many people are scared. They know what it was like during the war before.”
“What was it like?” Wrenlow asked. He lifted his book as if to start taking more notes. “We’ve talked around it often enough, but no one really wants to talk about what it was like back then.”
“For good reason. It was violent,” Gaspar said. He took another drink of his ale, set it down, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Some of us chose sides. Not everybody did, though. Some people, like Jessica’s aunt, decided to try to play both sides. Not that they could be blamed for it. Thought they would be protected either way. Given what the city was going through at the time, it wasn’t a bad strategy. After all, no one really knew who would succeed.”
“I remember the time too well,” Jessica said with a sigh. “Too much fighting. Nothing out in the open, of course. Those of us who didn’t have any magic never really knew what to do other than hide. It was safer to stay out of the light, and safer to stay away from it, knowing that if that power were to come toward us…” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “Too many innocents were killed, all because they didn’t have magic.”
“It’s not going to happen again,” Gaspar said.
“I know,” she said, then looked over to Gavin. “Which is why I don’t blame the constables for what they’re doing. I think it makes sense for them to mitigate any use of magic within the city if they can. This is supposed to be a place where there is no magic, so if they can defend against that and keep sorcerers from being able to draw their own power, then why shouldn’t they?”
Gavin wasn’t entirely sure whether something like that would be effective. He had been other places where they had tried to limit magic, and they had varying levels of success. Even here, there had been the continued effect of the enchanters hiding within the shadows. By outlawing magic, all they’d done was move it underground.
The Paper Dragon (The Chain Breaker Book 5) Page 5