There was still one more.
He popped up and swept his gaze around.
Where are they?
They had to be somewhere inside still. As he looked around, he saw no signs of movement.
“Get over here, boy,” Gaspar said.
Gavin looked over toward the door. Gaspar swung a pair of blades in front of him, trying to fend off one of the enchanted attackers that was blurring toward him.
“It looks like you’ve got this taken care of,” Gavin replied.
Most of the time, enchanted individuals didn’t blur into nothingness the way that these had. They had to be heavily enchanted or had an unfamiliar enchantment that permitted them to do so.
“Just give me a hand,” Gaspar said.
Gavin started forward, but the person he had knocked out—or had seemingly knocked out—grabbed at his foot, tripping him. He stumbled, twisting at the last moment, and crashed into the person across from Gaspar.
He heard a gasp.
Blood dripped down Gaspar’s blades, which were plunged into the belly of the young man who stood across from him.
“Dammit,” Gaspar said.
Gavin looked down at the boy. He was probably no more than sixteen or seventeen. Young. Bleeding heavily.
Gavin had killed dozens and dozens of times over the years. He viewed it as a part of life. Death was not something he normally feared. Still, in the time that he’d been in the city, he was killing less often than normal and even looked for reasons not to kill. Partly that was a desire to find some other aspect of work, but partly that was because he had come to realize that his skills could be put to use in other ways.
This was the first person he’d killed since the Mistress of Vines.
“It was you or him,” Gavin said.
It was the expected response, and the kind of thing that Tristan would’ve said to him when he was training, but saying it now—and to Gaspar—felt hollow to him.
He hadn’t needed to kill.
Ever since dealing with Cyran, Gavin had tried to avoid it. There was nothing gained by hunting people down throughout the city. Not if he wanted to stay here, and surprisingly, he continually debated whether he wanted to stay in Yoran.
“No, it wasn’t, and we both know it.” Gaspar turned to the door. “Just open the damn door.”
He focused on the place of power buried deep within him and called to it—his core reserves. It was something that he had once believed was just tied to additional strength he could access, but he had come to learn was more than that. Magic, probably. He tried not to think about what that meant.
As he called that power up, he filled himself with it and slammed into the door. It exploded with a thunderous crack.
“At least you were useful for that,” Gaspar muttered, heading inside.
Gavin followed him, ducking down to get inside the doorway. As soon as he did, he realized why it was so heavily protected.
“Enchantments,” he whispered.
“That’s right. Some damn fool thought to sell them here.”
Gavin looked back. “Whose are they?” This wasn’t the kind of thing to be the work of Zella and her enchanters. Gaspar would have said something otherwise.
“Don’t know,” Gaspar said, looking over at him. “I caught wind of someone attempting to move them.”
That could mean literally moving them or selling them. Either wouldn’t be good. “Who?”
“Another thieving crew in the city.”
Gavin started to laugh. “So you decided to get there first?”
“It was about making sure we didn’t have hundreds of enchantments flowing through the city,” Gaspar said.
“There’s more to this.”
Gaspar looked over to him. “Of course, there is more to this. We’ve been through what we have over the last few months, and you even need to ask?” He looked over to the enchantments. “Especially after what we dealt with coming from the Captain.”
“What are you going to do with them? I’m sure Zella would take them.” She’d probably know how to figure out what each of these enchantments did.
“I’m sure she would. I’m thinking of a different approach. I’m going to destroy them,” Gaspar said. “I’m not leaving this for the constables, and I’m not leaving this for some other fool. The others don’t need this stash.”
Gaspar set something down on the center of the floor. It started glowing; a pale orange light radiating off it. It pulsed slowly and gradually increased in the frequency.
“Just a little something that will take care of all of this.”
Gavin just shook his head. “You do realize that Desarra—”
“Don’t you get her involved in this.”
Gavin backed out of the doorway, ducking low.
Even though there were all these enchantments in the room, there was no point in protecting them without having some way to test them, determine what they were, and catalog them.
What do I care if Gaspar destroys all of them?
Maybe it’d be better to have less magic available within the city. The last thing he wanted was for more magic to fill the city. He had already seen just how dangerous Yoran could be with magic, and in his mind, it was better for it to be gone.
Gaspar backed out and motioned for Gavin to move. “Are you going to help me drag these two out of here?”
“I already did what you wanted me to do,” Gavin said.
“You don’t get to pout on a job.”
“I’m not pouting. Usually when I involve you in a job, I fill you in on all the details. And yet, when it comes to your jobs, you don’t even give me the same courtesy.”
“My jobs don’t deal with killing people.”
“And my jobs haven’t either.”
He and Gaspar held each other’s gaze, and neither looked away.
“We better get moving, unless you want to see what that enchantment will do,” Gaspar said finally.
Gavin flicked his gaze toward the open door. The pulsing from the item that Gaspar had set down continued to intensify. “I can imagine what will happen.”
“Then we’d better get moving.”
Gavin shook his head. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
He grabbed the first man that he’d taken down and flung him onto his shoulder, while Gaspar dragged the other one, leaving behind a trail of blood.
A massive explosion tore through the warehouse, and then it was sucked back in. It left nothing more than rubble behind.
They had barely gotten outside in time.
Gavin stared at the remains of the building. “I could use one of those.”
“I’m afraid there are no more,” Gaspar said. “That took me a long time to coax out of them.”
Them.
The enchanters.
Gaspar was working with them. Not that it surprised Gavin.
“Here,” Gavin said, dropping the man on the ground. “Now that I’ve done what you needed, it’s your turn. You get to deal with them.”
Gaspar shot him a hard-eyed stare, but Gavin ignored it, striding away and leaving Gaspar in the street.
“What was that about? Are either of you hurt?” Wrenlow asked.
“That was him using me.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Wrenlow asked.
“You do realize that he can listen to us.”
“I do. I just think that your reaction was—”
“Just stay out of it.”
Chapter Two
Gavin leaned on the wall of the bakery across from the Roasted Dragon, looking at the entrance. A dragon carved into the door always caught his attention, the streetlight reflecting off the surface making him think of stories of dragons from his childhood. Only stories. There were terrible creatures in the world, but no dragons.
He could go in. Hell, he should go in. At this point, he didn’t know if he wanted to, though. Maybe his frustration stemmed from how Gaspar had used him, or maybe it stemmed from what Gaspar
had said to him. He wasn’t sure.
The door to the Dragon opened, and Wrenlow stepped out.
Gavin blinked in surprise. He had muted the enchantment, not wanting to listen to Wrenlow in his ear any more than necessary, but he hadn’t been expecting Wrenlow to disappear on him. He figured his friend would’ve waited for him in the Dragon.
Where was he going?
Wrenlow hurried through the streets, sweeping his head from side to side the way Gavin had taught him. That was about all that Gavin had managed to teach him to do so far. Wrenlow had learned to watch for any pursuers, though he was doing it in a half-assed way. There weren’t many people out at this hour, though enough that Wrenlow had to maneuver around a pair of drunks staggering through the center of the street, a pair of lovers leaning on each other, and a group of five men, probably up to no good.
Wrenlow was heading toward the center of the city.
Gavin snorted. The longer he watched, the more certain he was that he didn’t know what Wrenlow was doing.
What would Gaspar think of it?
Thankfully, Gaspar was a bit preoccupied right now and would remain so until he dealt with the other thieves they had dispatched. Well, the other thieves that Gavin had dispatched. Gaspar had been silent until Gavin had muted the enchantment as well.
Gavin hurried forward to see just where Wrenlow was going and caught sight of him turning a corner. Wrenlow was heading toward the Captain’s fortress and a row of manor homes.
Gavin whistled three times in quick succession.
Wrenlow spun, darting his gaze to either side of him. He shifted his stance and looked like he was ready to fight.
A lot of good that would do him. At least in that stance.
Gavin really needed to keep working with Wrenlow. The boy wasn’t going to be able to defend himself if it came down to it. There had been some training, but not as much as what Gavin knew he needed to make him competent.
“Gavin?” Wrenlow said, hurrying toward him.
“What are you doing out here?”
Wrenlow ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “I just came to check on something.”
“And what would that be?” Gavin asked.
“I came to check on…”
Gavin glanced toward Desarra’s home. As soon as he’d started following Wrenlow, he’d known where his friend had been heading. “You can say it. If you’re going to pursue her, then you can say it.”
He held Gavin’s gaze, then pulled his enchantment out of his ear. “You knew?”
Gavin grunted. “Not sure how I couldn’t. Why are you sneaking away like this?”
“I’m not…” He shook his head and sighed. “Fine. I’m sneaking. Obviously not well. I don’t want Gaspar to know,” Wrenlow said.
“Because you don’t know if he would approve? It’s not like Olivia is his daughter.”
“Mostly because of Desarra. I don’t want to anger him too much if I…” Wrenlow shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.” He grinned, and the ink stain on his cheek twitched just a little bit.
Gavin tapped his own cheek, miming where Wrenlow needed to wipe his face. Wrenlow licked one finger and scrubbed at his cheek until the stain was gone.
“You should’ve looked in the mirror before you came over here,” Gavin said.
“I just knew that the job was over, and he was going to be busy, and I figured…”
“You figured that you would take the chance to visit her without him around to question you.”
Wrenlow shrugged.
“Does Desarra know?”
“She knows I’ve sent letters to her sister.”
Gavin started to smile before shaking his head. Of course it would be letters. With Wrenlow, that made sense. Gavin had never been one to court through writing, though he had never been one to do much writing in any regard. Typically, either he found someone who liked him and wanted to be with him, or he didn’t. That had been the case with Jessica when he’d come to the Roasted Dragon.
“What was your issue earlier?” Wrenlow asked. When Gavin didn’t answer right away, Wrenlow laughed softly. “I know you, Gavin. I know there’s something going on. Whether or not you want to admit it is another matter.”
“You can let it drop.”
“I will,” Wrenlow said, “but that doesn’t change that something was bothering you. Or still is bothering you.”
Gavin saw movement down the street. He caught a glimpse of Olivia—her long brown hair, her pale blue eyes, and her pale-yellow dress that swished as she moved. She hurried away from her home before moving past two gray cloaked constables patrolling at the end of the street.
Gavin nodded toward her. “It looks like there’s your chance.”
“I’m sorry, Gavin. Really, I am. Why don’t we talk about this later?”
“Why don’t we.”
“When I get back, I’ll keep digging for other jobs. I know we’re having a little trouble with them,” Wrenlow said.
“We don’t need any.”
“Isn’t that why you have me around? I find jobs for you. We take them. We complete them. And then—”
“I know what the situation is,” Gavin said.
“I’m sorry.” Wrenlow shifted, turning so that he could look toward Olivia before glancing back at Gavin. “I really should be…”
Gavin nodded. “I know. Go to her.”
Wrenlow grinned a goofy, lopsided grin, and Gavin noticed another ink stain on his other cheek. Wrenlow darted off, hurrying to catch up to Olivia.
Everything kept conspiring to keep him here.
First, Gaspar was including him in his jobs, where Gavin had always been the one to summon the old thief into his jobs. Now, Wrenlow was getting caught up with a romantic interest that would be difficult for him to leave. Even Gavin’s relationship with Jessica was complicating things. They claimed they were keeping it casual, but Gavin had not chased anyone else since coming to the city, and as far as he knew, neither had she.
This was unusual for him, and it might be the source of his discomfort. There was an odd nature to finding a balance but struggling with it as well. He was used to staying in a place for a little while, but then moving on. That was how he’d maintained his focus over the years. His edge.
He’d been in Yoran for some time now. Long enough to start to set down roots. Long enough that he was comfortable. But comfort brought complacency—a lesson that Tristan had taught him, but it was also a good one. If nothing else, Gavin understood he could not get complacent. He could not get too comfortable. But if he were to stay, what kind of work would he end up doing?
When he had first come to the city, the jobs had been plentiful. Most of them had been done on behalf of Cyran, but not all of them. Lately, he hadn’t had any jobs. The only task he really had was to protect the jade egg from the constables and to ensure the enchanters weren’t pursued.
Gavin glanced in the direction of the Captain’s fortress. Maybe it was time for him to pay the man a visit. If enchantments were moving throughout the city the way that Gaspar had uncovered, he needed to have words with him. Enchantments shouldn’t be so freely flowing like that. It was a danger, but maybe not for the same reason that Gaspar feared. It meant that the traditional power in the city had started to shift. Gavin had been around too many places where similar things had taken place and knew the dangers in a power vacuum.
He headed away from the manor houses and away from the Captain’s fortress, looking out at the darkened forest. There was a period in his life when he had spent considerable time wandering through forests. This had been another part of his training, but strangely, the memories from before his training were the ones that always stuck with him. He recalled the trees, a cozy home, and the warmth of a fire. All of that filled him with a feeling that he missed out on something, though Gavin could not tell what it was. Some aspect of his childhood, perhaps.
Gavin made his way back toward the Dragon. Every so often, he caught shadowed sig
ht of constables patrolling. He smiled to himself when he saw them. Now that he knew their secret and understood that they had enchantments they liked to keep hidden from the city, Gavin felt as if he had a certain sort of power over them.
As he neared the Dragon, he realized that somebody was trailing him. It was a strange instinct, an awareness of somebody tracking him, but Gavin had honed those instincts over the years. It had kept him alive countless times, and he needed to be careful.
Other than the fight earlier in the day, Gavin hadn’t sparred all that much recently. Work with Wrenlow wasn’t terribly challenging for him. He had to be careful not to kill Wrenlow at times.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t continued his training. He always kept his skills sharp by working through all of the movements and forms, but what he really needed was a good sparring session—a fight with somebody as skilled as he was so that he could continue to progress and challenge himself.
The enchanted attackers had given him some of that. Not enough, though. Maybe having somebody trail him gave him a different kind of opportunity. At least he could try to discover why they were trailing him.
He started making a wider circle. As he did, he realized that it wasn’t his imagination. There was a dark cloak. A hood pulled up over the cloak. A strange limp. Was there somebody else with them? He didn’t see anybody, but that wasn’t to say they weren’t there.
Gavin switched back around, following the flow of the crowd. He moved carefully, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention to the fact that he had picked up on them but wanting to get a better glimpse of them.
His pursuer had disappeared.
Balls.
Either they had caught him paying attention to them, or he had simply lost sight of them. Regardless, Gavin was growing complacent. Just the thing he’d started to fear. He needed a job—something that was his job and not Gaspar’s, and not one given to him only to use him as the Chain Breaker.
The Fates of Yoran (The Chain Breaker Book 3) Page 2