“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. Having 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 he
arth 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 enchantment 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.
“Well what?”
“Are you going to talk about this?”
“I told you, when he comes around,” Gavin said, nodding toward Wrenlow’s sleeping form.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t really know what to make of it.”
“Gavin—”
“Whatever’s happening might be dangerous,” he said, then took a bite. “I don’t know enough about it to be able to say with any certainty, but from what I can tell, there are dangerous sorcerers in the city. One of them killed the Captain, probably to take an enchantment.”
Jessica sighed. “These days, there always are sorcerers.”
He looked over to her. “But that hasn’t always been the case, has it?”
She frowned, shaking her head. “No.”
“Even though Yoran is not a place of magic, it seems like magic has converged upon it.”
Wrenlow started to stir, coming around and groaning. His lean face was clean-shaven today, and his pale blue eyes flicked from Gavin to Jessica for a moment before settling back on Gavin. He had a smudge of ink on his shirt, and there would likely be some on his fingers. Wrenlow always buried himself in his books. He took notes on all the different informants he’d gathered, coordinating them and trying to keep them organized. It was something that Gavin very much appreciated.
Wrenlow looked up. “Gavin?” he asked, squeezing his hand over his ear. “Are you still there?”
“I’m right here,” Gavin said. Wrenlow’s voice was loud in his ear, but it was also coming from across the room, creating a strange effect.
Wrenlow blinked and looked at Gavin. “What happened?”
“Well, it seems as if there is at least one incredibly dangerous sorcerer in the city, maybe three of them, and from what the enchanters tell me, they’re powerful.”
“You went to the enchanters?”
“I needed help, and I went to them to give me a chance to get away.”
“I tried to send word to them, but…”
“You sent word to them?” Gavin asked.
Wrenlow nodded. “I figured that if anyone could help you with the sorcerer, it would be the enchanters, but I didn’t realize you were dealing with more than one sorcerer.”
“I didn’t know I was either.” Gavin took another bite of bread, chewing slowly. “We need to go back and look at everything we’ve done since coming to Yoran. Now with the Captain dead, I’m starting to become concerned about everything that’s happened.”
“Why?”
Gavin cocked his head at Wrenlow. “You need to wake up more. Your mind isn’t working.”
“My mind is working quite fine,” Wrenlow said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “I just don’t really understand what you’re getting at.”
“Think about the jobs that we’ve had most recently. Cyran. The El’aras. The Captain and the Mistress of Vines. Now there’s more than one sorcerer here, one of them incredibly powerful.”
“You escaped from the most powerful sorcerers in the world?” Jessica asked, pulling the chair over and turning it toward him.
“I had help,” Gavin said.
“If they’re that powerful, then you shouldn’t have been able to escape.”
“Like I said, I had help.”
“We need to get Gaspar involved,” she said.
“He’ll probably hear about it from the enchanters anyway.”
Gavin finished eating, leaned back in the chair, and looked over at the fire. His mind raced, working through the jobs he and Wrenlow had done in the time they’d been in Yoran. Many of the jobs had been straightforward, but they’d all been on behalf of Cyran. What Gavin knew about Cyran was that he had been trying to gain power, wanting to improve his position.
Gavin had been tasked with removing the Risen Shard, but not only that. Cyran had hired him to remove other threats throughout the city. There was a merchant, and Gavin had believed that he had been smuggling children from the city, forcing them into slavery in the south. It was a reasonable conclusion based on the information that he and Wrenlow had managed to acquire at the time, but now…
What if there had been something more to it?
Even something as obvious as that should have been left him questioning.
Gavin had removed another man who had some sway in the city. A wealthy businessman, though even now, Gavin still didn’t know what he had been involved in. Maybe that was a mistake. He should have questioned more. He should have tried to understand everything that he was asked to do.
What if Cyran was somehow looking for something to impress the Fates?
Gavin wouldn’t know without contacting the El’aras. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a marker. He flipped it over in his hand, twirling it on his palm.
“What are you doing?” Wrenlow asked, coming closer.
&nb
sp; “Think about it,” Gavin said. “In the time we’ve been here, with all of the magical goings-on that we’ve dealt with, there seems to be one connection.”
“What connection is that?”
“Me.”
He squeezed the marker. Anna had given it to him as her way of allowing Gavin to summon her for help, though he’d never attempted to use it. Maybe now was the time. Only, the moment he did, he would bring the El’aras into the city. He doubted Anna and the El’aras would move quietly—or discreetly. The El’aras lived beyond the borders of the kingdom, beyond any of the free cities. They staked claim to lands outside of the forests, mostly because it was safer for them. Too many people viewed their magic as dangerous, which it was.
Is that what I want?
He slipped the marker back into his pocket. Jessica visibly relaxed.
“What is it?” Gavin asked.
“Nothing. It’s just… the last time they were here…” She swept her gaze around the Dragon, her hand clenched to her belly, where she still had the scar from the attack. Her eyes settled back on him.
“It’s not going to be the same next time,” he said.
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about them.”
“I know enough,” Gavin said.
She shook her head. “You only think you know enough. When it comes to the El’aras and the kind of power they possess, I don’t think anyone can truly know.”
Gavin kept his face neutral. He was at least part El’aras, though he had no idea what that meant for him. And he never would’ve believed it were it not for the El’aras visit and discovering that he had this magical connection to some deep part of himself.
Perhaps Jessica was right. There was no way for him to know the El’aras. Not without calling them back.
Gavin got to his feet and started to pace. “I need to know what they took from the Captain.”
“And like I said, you need to reach out to Gaspar,” she said.
Gavin stopped in front of the fire, staring at the flames.
Maybe he did need to go to Gaspar, who had contacts that he could use. Contacts that might be necessary. Not only that, but Imogen came with Gaspar. He needed someone not afraid to help him take on a sorcerer.
The Fates of Yoran (The Chain Breaker Book 3) Page 8