“I can’t believe I get to see this battle among one of the Leier,” Theren said.
“Not the Leier. Not really,” Gaspar said with a grunt. “Only those she trained to act like her. Her people are…”
“Are what?” Gavin asked.
“Not here,” Gaspar finished.
“What does it mean to be First of the Blade?”
Gaspar sighed. “You know she’s a skilled sword fighter.”
Gavin nodded. “I’ve seen that a time or two.”
“She came to these people to help them. She trained them.”
Gavin looked at the fight before settling his gaze back on Gaspar. “So she is the First of the Blade because she taught them?”
“As far as I am aware,” Gaspar said. “And from what I know of Imogen, her true homeland is far from here, in a place where her type of skill is not uncommon.”
“Not uncommon, and there are some who are even more skilled,” Theren said. He shrugged. “They view their sword skill as an art, and there are some who can fight in ways I can’t even imagine.” His voice took on a faraway quality. “They call themselves Sacred Sword Masters. Had I not been El’aras, I would have been interested in learning from one of them. You didn’t know?” Theren glanced over to Gavin, grinning widely at Gavin’s expression.
“Imogen doesn’t always talk,” he said.
He turned his attention back to the fighting and watched as Imogen pushed back two of the forward attackers. She spun, slipping her blade through, nearly stabbing one of them. At the last second, she reversed it, jamming the hilt of the sword down on the man’s head, causing him to crumple. She twisted, forcing her way toward the other two, barely missing another sword coming toward her.
“This isn’t to the death?” he asked.
“It’s not for them,” Gaspar said.
“Wait. It is for Imogen?”
“She announced herself.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about this,” Gavin said.
“I’ve promised I would keep her secrets.”
“And you have, but it’s time we know a little bit more about some of her secrets. Especially since we are here on her behalf.”
“Just watch, boy, and maybe you can figure out some things.” Gaspar grunted. “Maybe you could even learn some things.”
As Gavin stared, watching the fighting as they danced around, he knew that Gaspar wasn’t wrong. They were all expert sword fighters. And yet, he had a feeling that Imogen was slightly better.
Slightly better against greater numbers was not always enough, though.
There was a pattern to her fighting that Gavin could follow. One of the lessons Tristan had wanted him to master was how to observe fighting styles and ensure that he could learn from them. There were always techniques to take from somebody else, especially one’s enemies. And Imogen had much he could learn from.
She darted between a pair of attackers, then spun, whipping her blade around. She jerked the hilt of it toward the temple of one of the women, crashing into her head and forcing her down.
It left three.
They faced Imogen directly and forced her back.
Gavin was tempted to step in, but knew he could not. If this was some sort of test, he couldn’t intervene. It was difficult to stand aside and just watch, especially as he had come with her to help. He stared at the moving shadows and studied the quick movements of each of the attackers as they came at her.
Imogen lunged forward, slipping her blade into the nearest attacker, and then darted back. When the other two converged toward her, she threw herself at the closest one. It was a risky maneuver, which reminded Gavin of his own fighting style.
She tumbled into one of them, her hilt landing in their forehead, and she finally rolled to her feet. The other two were almost upon her when Imogen lunged outward, managing to deflect both of them with her blade.
As she did, she parried one attack, sent another away, and then darted forward. Her hilt whipped from side to side, connecting with both of them.
Then they were down.
She stood, sweeping her gaze around at the others, and then with a flourish, she sheathed her blade.
Another figure separated from the shadows across from them. Gavin hadn’t even seen them. The figure was dark-haired and reminded him of Imogen, though more muscular. There was an air about him, a quality that left Gavin frowning, trying to understand what it was. Maybe power, maybe something else. Either way, he noticed Imogen’s tension.
“Come, Imogen, First of the Blade.”
Chapter Twelve
Gavin tried to gauge Imogen’s reaction but saw nothing other than the tension in her shoulders that faded quickly. She gained control over herself almost as rapidly as he would have.
She glowered at the man’s back, though. There was some history between them, though Gavin couldn’t imagine what it was.
He looked to Gaspar, who kept his gaze locked on Imogen. Deep lines of worry crinkled his eyes. Ever since leaving Yoran, Gaspar had been increasingly concerned about her.
Now it was time for Gavin to worry for her too.
He had no idea whether they should really follow this person. The man was younger than Gavin, possibly even the same age as Imogen, with inky black hair, dark eyes that blended into the night, and the same pale skin that he saw from everybody else in the city. He swept his gaze around the other fallen attackers, his mouth pressed in what looked to be disappointment.
“What now?” Gavin asked Gaspar. “Will he take us to find information about the hyadan?”
Gaspar shot him a hard look. “Be quiet.”
“All this was so that we could come here and find—”
“I know what we are here for, and I’m telling you to be quiet,” he growled. “You need to be patient. The entire reason we’re here is so we can find information, but you have to trust that Imogen will play this the right way.”
They started forward and made their way toward the slums, heading deeper into them. Gavin continued to sweep his gaze back and forth, watching the streets and everything around him, looking for more information about the man leading them.
Imogen kept her focus straight ahead of her as she moved quickly. Though she had her sword sheathed, she had one hand resting on its hilt, ready to move at any moment.
Gavin glanced at Theren. His smile had faded somewhat, though not entirely.
“You aren’t quite as excited now?” Gavin asked.
“I’m curious.”
“Not concerned?”
“You saw what happened there,” Theren said.
“I didn’t realize you would be worried about a sword fighter like that.”
“It’s not a matter of worry, it’s more a matter of recognizing that superior numbers often can overpower superior skill. Even you have to know that, Chain Breaker.”
The man stopped in front of one of the slums. This section looked slightly different than the others, only in that it was made of stone rather than wood. The stone constructs seemed more secure the farther they went, but some of the buildings were crumbling, even though they were made of stone.
Gaspar stayed quiet, his focus and concentration fixed straight ahead of him, though Gavin knew he wasn’t simply staring. This was Gaspar, after all, and he paid attention to his surroundings. He would be watching everything.
For his part, Theren made no effort to hide the fact that he was sweeping his gaze from side to side, looking everywhere around him, and checking for anything that might be there.
“All I’ve seen are people watching us,” Gavin said.
“I have noticed the same,” Theren said.
“Nobody like Imogen.”
“No other of the Leier,” Theren agreed.
“As I said, none of them are truly Leier,” Gaspar whispered. “Only those from her homeland. This is something else. Muvarth. They were the original inhabitants of the city. Trained in their methods, but less in some ways.” He glanced at Gavin, who s
hook his head. He hadn’t heard anything about those people, except what Imogen had mentioned about the temple. “The Muvarth have a trace of magic, or were rumored to. Not enchanters and not sorcerers, but something different.” Gaspar shrugged. “Imogen taught them as much as she can reveal, but those who come from her homeland have been trained since a young age to master the sword. It’s why none are her rival.”
Gavin glanced over to Theren, wondering if that was true or not. He’d seen the El’aras fight with swords, the quick movements that had required him to focus on his core reserves in order to slow down the fight. Would Imogen be able to hold her own against them?
He imagined Theren feeling intrigued enough to test it, but he also imagined Imogen having no interest in revealing her capabilities. There was no reason for her to do so.
“I don’t know much about them,” Gavin said.
“I thought the great Chain Breaker knew everything about all different fighting styles,” Gaspar said.
“Fighting styles, but not fighters, though I’ve faced somebody like her before.”
“Like her, or one of the Leier?”
“Like her,” Gavin said, thinking back to the warehouse attack and how Cyran had used a woman who had reminded him of Imogen to fight. Only, she hadn’t carried a sword, so maybe she wasn’t the same.
“There are others who are like them,” Theren said, “but not the same. I didn’t always live among the trees. When we were on the slopes of Yilthain Mountain, clans of the Leier lived there.”
“Clans?”
“They live as family groupings—or they did. It’s unusual to see them in the city like this.” He nodded to Imogen. “They must’ve had a reason for coming here, but…”
As Theren trailed off, Gavin studied Imogen. There had to be a reason, and whatever it was happened to be significant enough that she didn’t want to talk about it.
But Gavin thought she needed to. He had to know what was going on here so that he could understand what he had gotten himself into.
“What reason?” Gavin asked.
“It’s nothing, boy,” Gaspar said.
He shook his head. “It matters.”
Gaspar looked over to Theren before turning his attention to Gavin. “She left her homeland. She intends to go back eventually, or I think she does, but she left for a reason.”
“Her bond quest,” Theren said.
“That’s right,” Gaspar said. “She came out here because of the hyadan. Chased the danger. Willingly risked herself. And now…” He shook his head again. “I think she thought she was nearly done with it.”
“With the hyadan, or this bond quest?” Gavin asked.
“A little of both.”
“What does it mean when she finishes her bond quest?”
“That’s something she has not shared,” Gaspar said. There was concern for Imogen in his voice.
Imogen and the man talked quietly to each other, and Gavin tried to listen in but could not. Gaspar stared straight ahead, saying nothing. They hadn’t moved away from this stone section of the slums.
“Why aren’t we going in?” Gavin asked Gaspar.
“I get the feeling he’s trying to decide what to do with us. It’s been a while since she’s been here. Maybe too long.”
“Right, but if these are her people…”
“Coming from a place and having it as your people are different matters,” Gaspar said. “And I would think you understood that.”
Finally, the black-haired man started forward into one of the darkened slums. Imogen glanced back to Gaspar, and they shared a look. Their expressions were unreadable, though Gavin wondered if perhaps they were communicating in more than just knowing glances. They did share an enchantment of some sort, a way for them to speak, similar to the way the El’aras spoke to each other. He looked down at Gaspar’s hands, but they weren’t moving. He didn’t see anything out of Imogen either.
“Are you sure about this?” Gaspar asked Imogen.
“Yes,” she said.
They stepped into the building ahead.
Gavin reached into his pocket, drawing on the enchantment to help his eyesight. He wasn’t about to go into some darkened space without being able to see—not with somebody he did not know, and not without better understanding what was taking place.
As he strode forward, he called on some of his core reserves, letting that power flow through him. Everything lightened, but it didn’t help. He was still surrounded by the stone, still surrounded by darkness.
“It’s a tunnel,” Theren said, chuckling. “Reminds me of my home.” He glanced over to Gavin, then shrugged. “Well, my first home. We don’t have anything like this in the forest.”
“No, because you have the trees,” Gavin said.
“The trees. They get too high above the ground sometimes. Some even like to live there.”
Gavin shrugged. “I haven’t been to an El’aras city.”
“They are beautiful, even the ones difficult to tolerate.”
“I didn’t realize any of them were difficult to tolerate,” Gavin said.
“You would be surprised. If you had to live in the trees, swaying with every gust of wind, you might find it more challenging than you preferred.”
They followed Imogen and the man down the tunnel. Gaspar stayed right in front of them.
“Why did you leave?” Gavin asked Theren.
“I didn’t have much choice. Our people were forced out.”
He hadn’t heard of that happening to any of the El’aras recently. He was surprised it would still be taking place at all.
“It was a long time ago,” Theren said.
Gavin regarded him. He had no idea how old Theren was, but because he was El’aras, he could be impossibly old. Or he could be young. He looked young, but his fighting prowess must have taken time to master, and he doubted that Anna would have trusted just anybody to protect her. Maybe Gavin had underestimated how old Theren was.
“How were you forced out?” he asked.
“The same as these people, I suppose,” Theren said, his voice soft.
“By sorcery?”
“As my people have been over the years.”
“I’m sorry,” Gavin said.
“Why would you be sorry? You had nothing to do with it.” He shrugged. “You learn to move past it. That’s what they teach us, anyway. Recognize the gifts we’re given and the opportunities we have. Embrace those opportunities, and take advantage of what each new day gives us.” He laughed hollowly.
Theren hadn’t moved past what had happened to him. Not that Gavin could blame him, though. If he were forced out of his home, he might feel much the same way.
But then, Gavin had experienced something similar. He’d been forced away from his home, compelled to take on a role he had never wanted. At least, not one that he had ever known he had wanted. He didn’t really know what he would’ve done or been had he not been taken in by Tristan all those years ago, long before Gavin knew what was going on.
He watched Theren, and realized that maybe there was more to the El’aras man than he had suspected. Maybe that was what Theren was getting at. He wanted Gavin to recognize that he’d suffered as well.
They reached an end point in the tunnel. The walls were close, though they were able to walk side by side. Gavin had to duck his head somewhat to keep from brushing it against the tunnel ceiling. The stone had a strange odor to it, something that was a mix of rot and moisture.
A door in front of them opened. Light illuminated the tunnel as soon as it did.
Gaspar stood with his gaze fixed straight ahead of him, and Gavin held one hand on his El’aras dagger. He unsheathed it slightly and looked down at the blade, but didn’t see a glow. No magic here, then.
But Gavin didn’t know if he would even notice any magic from Imogen or her kind, whatever they might be. He certainly hadn’t detected anything from her before. When he had fought alongside her, the blade hadn’t glowed. She might have som
e ability, but if she did, it was natural like that of the El’aras—not anything she could control.
Gavin followed the rest and pushed up behind Gaspar. “This is unusual,” he said.
“We need to find the keystone, and Imogen wouldn’t have brought us here if she couldn’t still detect it. I don’t know how well she can feel it, though,” Gaspar said.
“You have your own enchantments. Can’t you ask her?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing, boy?”
“She hasn’t answered?” Gavin asked.
“All of this has been difficult for her,” Gaspar said. “But no, she hasn’t answered.”
That put Gavin even more on edge.
He looked at his surroundings. “And all of this is part of some temple?”
It was the strangest temple he had ever seen, but he hadn’t spent much time in many places of worship over the years.
“It’s old,” Gaspar said.
“Like you.”
Gaspar glared at him but fell silent.
As soon as they headed through the lightened section, Gavin debated pulling off the eyesight enchantment, not sure he needed it any longer. But he decided to keep it on his finger, ready for the possibility that darkness might engulf them, or that the light might reveal something else hidden within it.
The tunnel widened, and they started heading down. At first it was a gentle slope, but the farther they went, the sharper it declined. Then they reached stairs.
The steps were wide enough that they could all go down together, though the man in front led them forward and Imogen stayed behind him. Gaspar caught up to her and leaned close to her, whispering something, but she shook her head.
Theren chuckled. “What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on her shoulder.”
“What?” Gavin said.
“You’ve never heard that one? It means I’d like to hear what they’re saying. She looks upset, and your man looks like he’s trying to find out something she’s wanting to keep from him.”
“I think he’s trying to get something out of her, but I don’t know if he’s going to be able to do so with Imogen. Not if she wants to keep it to herself.”
The Paper Dragon (The Chain Breaker Book 5) Page 15