He had to break free.
I have an enchantment.
He pulled it out of his pocket and slipped it onto his wrist. He kept the enchantment on him, though never used it because he tried not to become reliant upon it. It was too dangerous for him to do so.
He drew upon its power and turned to see whether he could escape in some fashion. Everything seemed to slow. The combination of strength and speed was enough that Gavin wondered if he would be able to overwhelm the sorcerer. He brought his arm around, chopping it through the sorcerer’s arm.
There was a satisfying crack as the sorcerer’s arm shattered. Gavin staggered back, suddenly freed from his grip. He raced across the room, grabbed his sword, and spun, but the sorcerer was gone.
Light exploded in the room. Gavin clutched his chest, trying to steady his breathing.
Everything hurt.
He noticed a hint of pale white glowing along his blade.
Gavin looked up and saw Davel Chan. The constables filled the entire front space of the Dragon. A dozen or so men all had swords unsheathed, and all were dressed in the simple gray jacket and pants of the constables. Even Davel held a sword, something Gavin had not yet seen him fight with, but he suspected a man of his station had considerable skill.
Davel turned to Gavin with a tight smile. “Now. About the egg.”
Chapter Twelve
Gavin sat in a chair near the hearth. He clutched his chest, trying to breathe through the pain. He was accustomed to handling pain, but what he now felt was something different—as if his bones had been shattered but, at the same time, as if they were also knitting back together and healing.
He didn’t know if it was something he was doing, whether he had some enhancement naturally that would allow him to recover, or whether it was something that was tied to what the sorcerer had done to him. He’d always healed fast.
He held on to the sword. Gavin had refused to sheathe it, even after there was no evidence of the sorcerer attack here. He kept the enchantment on as well.
Wrenlow sat across from him. His face was bruised, and a trickle of blood ran down from his nose that he hadn’t completely wiped away.
Jessica looked unharmed. Gavin supposed that he should be thankful for that. She had been injured enough times because of him.
“He was after you,” Wrenlow said as Gavin approached. “I tried to get word to you, but he attacked before I had a chance.”
Gavin shook his head. “You did well.”
“They sealed us after that,” Wrenlow said, looking over to Jessica. She was quiet, but the longer the sorcerer had been gone, the more she seemed to be coming around. “It was like they put up a blanket of darkness over us.”
Jessica nodded. “I couldn’t see anything. I could barely hear anything. Only muffled sounds.”
“And the fighting,” Wrenlow said.
Jessica frowned and nodded. She swept her gaze around her again before settling on the constables nearby. “I don’t like having the constables around here,” Jessica said.
“I don’t either,” Gavin said, “but I don’t know that we have much choice in the matter.”
“We could tell them to leave.”
“Do you think they would?”
“You have an agreement with them,” she said.
Gavin shook his head. “I had an agreement, but I don’t know if that’s been modified now that Davel had to save me.”
Had Davel not come, Gavin had little doubt that he would have succumbed to the sorcerer. He would have been taken from here, tormented and killed. Given that Gavin had stabbed the sorcerer twice, the man probably wanted revenge.
Gavin got to his feet, feeling shaky. He needed rest.
The door opened, and Davel strode in, followed by three constables. His gaze darted around the tavern before settling on Gavin. He made his way toward where Gavin sat near the hearth, grabbed a chair, and took a seat across from him. The other three constables took up positions at each door around the room.
“I suppose I should thank you,” Gavin said.
“That is generally what one does when their life is saved,” Davel said, smiling tightly.
“You knew they were here.”
“As I said, I recognized there was a sorcerer’s presence in the city.”
But Gavin didn’t think he knew about that Captain. “You weren’t aware of it when Cyran was here.”
Davel’s brow furrowed. “No. I’m not exactly sure why that is, only that he managed to conceal his presence from us.”
Gavin flicked his gaze toward where he had been attacked. “I have a feeling this one doesn’t think he needs to hide.”
“Probably not,” Davel said. He fell silent, and he stared at the crackling logs.
Lighting a fire was the first thing that Jessica had done after the attack. Well, almost the first thing. She had cleaned up the tavern as well as she could, tipping the chairs back into place, moving the tables back where they belonged. Thankfully, she and Wrenlow had been trapped and held by the sorcerer in one corner, and as soon as the attack started and the sorcerer turned toward the constables, the two of them were able to sneak into the kitchen and hide.
Gaspar hadn’t been there.
“Who is he?” Davel finally asked.
“I don’t know much about him. He called himself one of the Fates, though the only thing that I’ve been able to determine about the Fates is that they somehow lead the sorcerers. I came across him the night before when he killed the Captain.”
That elicited a slight raise of the brow. Not much more than that. “That one preferred to risk more than he should.” He shook his head. “No, the Fates don’t lead the sorcerers,” Davel said, sighing. “It’s worse than that. Much worse. They control them. The Fates have guided the sorcerers for as long as I’ve been aware of it.”
“As long as you’ve been aware of it?” Gavin was surprised that word of the Captain’s death didn’t hit Davel any harder than it had.
“Yes,” Davel said. “We understand the dangers of magic in the city, and we take great pains to ensure that we are prepared for the possibility of any further attack. If the Fates are involved, so are all who serve them.”
“From what you say, all the sorcerers serve them.”
Davel shook his head. “If we have one of the Fates within Yoran, then we are in far more trouble than I realized.”
“And you attacked one.”
“There was always going to be a fight if one of the Fates was here,” Davel said.
“What do you know about them?” Gavin shifted on the chair, and he moved the sword. He needed to know if what Zella had shared with him was true or not. It probably was, but there might be gaps in her knowledge.
“Every rumor you’ve heard is probably true,” Davel said. “The best solution is to offer them whatever they want so that they leave.”
Don’t let him have it.
“You think that’s all it will take?” Gavin laughed softly. “My experience with people like that is that even when they get what they want, they don’t necessarily leave. They’re here for a reason, and someone with that much power likely has a reason that brought them here—one that might pose a danger to all of Yoran.”
“As if you care about Yoran.”
“I care about several people here,” Gavin said. As he said it, he knew it was true. This despite everything he kept telling himself about needing to leave Yoran. “And myself.”
“That’s all you care about,” Davel said.
Gavin shrugged. “I’ve never claimed otherwise. In fact, I have been quite clear that the only person I am concerned about is myself. When it comes to an attack like this, I’m not willing to stay here and suffer.”
And he couldn’t hand over anything to the Fate as he didn’t have anything. Could he have followed someone other than the Fate out of the Captain’s fortress? The attack on the Captain had been brutal, and he couldn’t imagine anyone not a sorcerer handling him—and his people�
��like that.
He had to figure that out.
The Fate had been near the sorcerer’s lair.
“I stabbed the Fate twice,” Gavin went on. “The second time should have been enough to kill him. I carved through his belly, up into his chest, and he pushed my sword away as if it were nothing.”
“They supposedly have diamond-hard skin, and it’s impossible to even get a knife into them.” Davel glanced down at the sword. “What is that weapon?”
Gavin took a seat and held the sword over his lap, and he glanced down at the blade. “It’s an El’aras sword, at least as far as I can tell. It’s a little bit different than the dagger I have.” He pulled the dagger out from the sheath and held it out. “This one I took off of an El’aras.”
“Not the sword?”
“Not the sword,” Gavin said.
“But how do you know it’s an El’aras blade?”
“I don’t. At least not necessarily. But it reacts the same as the dagger. It glows when there’s magic used around us.” Gavin stared at the sword for a moment, then twisted it in place. “Besides, it has something else about it that makes it more likely to be an El’aras blade. This writing,” Gavin said, motioning to it. He held the sword out.
Davel leaned close. His mouth was pressed together in a tight line, and after studying it for a moment, he sat back in his chair. “I don’t know if it’s an El’aras sword. I have heard that even the El’aras cannot kill one of the Fates.”
“I doubt that’s true,” Gavin said. “I have some experience with the El’aras, and their sword fighters are quite skilled.”
“I’m not doubting the skill of their fighters. All I’m saying is that the Fates have incredibly hard skin.”
“Magically enchanted,” Gavin said.
“Possibly.”
“Then maybe there’s something that we can do to counter that.” If they were going to have to deal with the Fates, then they needed more than an equal footing. “Do you think the egg can create an enchantment like that?” he asked.
“It’s possible.” Davel looked up. “Enchantments can only be created by those who understand them. We have to find someone who has the necessary knowledge.”
He understood what Davel was getting at—he wanted to know where the enchanters were.
“I don’t think I can help you,” he said.
“You can help. You’re just choosing not to.”
Gavin looked down at the sword again, noting the symbols on the blade. If it were more than just the El’aras blade, then what was it? He had found the sword beneath Cyran’s home. Within his lair.
Another sorcerer’s lair.
And it had been protected. Almost as if it were something dangerous.
Of course, the sword would be. Gavin had seen how dangerous it could be, but that didn’t mean it was anything other than an El’aras sword because even that would be dangerous.
Only, an El’aras sword wouldn’t have been kept within a protective barrier.
The Fate had been after something.
Could it be the sword?
“Gavin?” Jessica asked.
He glanced over. “I’m thinking.”
“Think more quickly,” Davel said.
Gavin turned toward him, gripping the sword and suppressing the frustration within him. “Don’t tell me what I need to do.”
Davel smiled. “That’s the attitude you’re going to need with them.”
“You don’t know them,” Gavin said.
“I know them well enough. I understand the danger we face when it comes to the Fates.”
Gavin glanced down at the sword. Somehow, it was important.
He thought about the sorcerer’s lair. It wasn’t only that the sword had been found there, it was also how the sword had been used to help him move from one place to another within the lair.
Gavin wasn’t about to give the sword to the Fate.
Which meant he needed help—the constables’ help.
“Why don’t we start with something more basic?” Gavin said.
“Basic how?” Davel asked.
“I think we need to better understand just what the egg can do.”
Davel looked at him for a moment before shaking his head. “No.”
“You don’t want me to know?”
“I don’t have a problem with you knowing, but I have a problem with what you intend to do when you understand it.”
“First you want me to work with you on using the egg to create enchantments, and now you’re telling me no?”
“I’m not going to have you arm yourself with enchantments,” Davel said.
Gavin flashed a bright smile. “Seeing as how I’m the one in command of the egg, I don’t know that you get to choose that.”
The only problem with it was that he would have to get to the egg. That might be a challenge. For all his taunting of Davel and offering him an opportunity to access the egg, Gavin had secured it in a way that would keep it safe and ensure that no one else could reach the egg unless he allowed it. Now he didn’t know whether that was going to be easy enough for him to accommodate.
“I’ll return with the egg, and you bring your enchanter-type people here,” Gavin said.
Davel looked around the tavern. “Here? You would have us place enchantments inside this place?”
“Hey!” Jessica said.
“I agree with her sentiment,” Gavin said. “What makes you think this is any less effective than your constable barracks?”
“There are requirements within each place where the enchantments are placed.”
“What sort of requirements?”
“The kind that ensures a certain stability. I’m not going to walk you through this. It will take far more time, and if you’re going to secure the egg and bring it back here, then we can talk about it at that time.”
“We can talk about it now,” Gavin said. “Because if I’m going to bring the egg to you, I want to know I’m going to be safe. I want to know that anything I might do for you will be safe.”
“It’s not a matter of safety. It’s a matter of having the necessary focus of the magic,” Davel said.
“You don’t think you can have that focus here?”
“There will be too many distractions.”
“What kind of place do you need?” Gavin asked. “Other than your barracks.”
“Short of having access to a sorcerer’s lair, we need a place devoid of any influence.”
Gavin hadn’t known the lair's purpose before, but the idea that it would prevent any magical influence from escaping did make sense to him. He didn’t know if that would be necessary, though. He wasn’t willing to go to the constables’ barracks, which meant that he would have to come up with a different solution.
“I might have a place that we can use,” Gavin said. “When I return, I’ll tell you. But only you.”
“That’s not going to work,” Davel said.
“Why not?” Gavin asked.
“I have to tell someone.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“No,” Davel said.
“Good. I don’t trust you either. I suppose that makes us even when it comes to working together.”
“You’re a strange man, Gavin Lorren,” Davel said.
Gavin flashed a smile. “Get whoever you need ready and bring them here.”
Davel got to his feet, and he made a small motion with his hand. The other constables followed him out of the tavern.
That left Gavin with Wrenlow and Jessica.
He hadn’t learned what happened with Gaspar and Imogen. They’d been gone for a while. The only thing he could think of was that they were off on some job. Likely something to help protect Desarra and Olivia. That seemed to be Gaspar’s greatest concern these days.
“Are you really going to work with the constables?” Jessica asked.
“If it will allow us to make some enchantments, I think I need to.”
“Then I need to make
sure the tavern is secured.” She got up and headed to the kitchen, leaving Gavin to have a chance to talk to Wrenlow alone.
“This Fate already took something from the Captain and was after something else. Maybe the sword.” He described to Wrenlow what he’d discovered in the lair, and his friend grew increasingly unsettled, shifting in his seat. “As much as I hate to think this way, I’m going to have to take on the Fate.” Going up against a powerful sorcerer again didn’t sit well with him, but at this point, he didn’t know if there was any alternative. “I’d love to have your help.”
“You know you’ll have it.”
“I might need your focus, too.”
He didn’t want Wrenlow angry with him, but he would need Wrenlow’s connections. Besides, the Fate had proven he knew how to find Gavin—and those he cared about.
Wrenlow watched him. Finally, he leaned forward, rested his hands on the table, and shook his head slowly. “I don’t like it, but I also don’t like the idea of leaving powerful sorcerers like that to terrorize the city.”
“I’m not sure it’s about terrorizing so much as it’s about finding something they want,” Gavin said.
“Maybe that won’t be their intention, but their presence in the city would be,” Wrenlow said. “We know what sorcerers can do. Even if they don’t mean to cause harm, they always seem to manage to do it.”
Gavin crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at the blade. Wrenlow was right, which was part of the reason that Gavin tried to avoid sorcery.
Now he was far more entrenched in it than he ever had been before.
Was it all because of Yoran?
Maybe it was all because of Cyran.
He sighed. “Let’s start with one thing at a time.”
He didn’t want to rely upon enchantments, but Gavin wasn’t sure he would have much of a choice.
“I’m going to get the egg. She’s going to be busy getting the Dragon back in order,” he said, looking over to where Jessica moved the tables back into position, “so I’ll hurry back.”
“You don’t think the Fate will return here?” Wrenlow asked.
The Fates of Yoran (The Chain Breaker Book 3) Page 13