The Fates of Yoran (The Chain Breaker Book 3)

by D. K. Holmberg

  “I have seen something similar.”

  “They encouraged it here. They even had a connection to the Academy that trained them. The students worked just as hard as their masters to fight for power.”

  Gavin knew there were outposts in many cities. He had seen them enough times to know. Most of the time, the outpost served as a place for the society members to reside, but there were other places where the outpost was used to consolidate power.

  And then there was what he had uncovered in Yoran.

  Three sorcerers. The Triad.

  That couldn’t be a coincidence. Gavin had found three sorcerer’s lairs. All three of them were connected, which suggested that, if nothing else, whatever he had encountered had been intentionally created. There had been the El’aras symbols on the doors, symbols that had suggested a different sort of connection and a different sort of power.

  Could those lairs have been part of the Triad? Was that why the Fate had come?

  “Yes, three,” Davel replied. “There were others in the city, though they served the Triad. After a while, they decided they didn’t want to serve the Triad anymore and that it was time to overthrow them. Thus began the Sorcerers War. It was a brutal time. Those without magic—and within Yoran, that was almost everyone—were at the mercy of the sorcerers. The Triad claimed they were trying to hold their position, wanting to fight to ensure the safety of the others, but…”

  “Go on,” Gavin said.

  “Does it even matter?”

  “A little bit.”

  Davel sighed. “The sorcerers who served the Triad found themselves fighting a losing war. They began to brutally attack others in the city. They thought that doing so would call the Triad out into the open, but even when they did, there was nothing they could do.”

  “That’s why the enchanters and the constables began to work together,” Gavin said.

  “That’s part of the reason. We wanted to protect those without magic. Considering how few people had it, we thought we needed to offer some element of safety.”

  “Why you?”

  “Because we’d always served.”

  Gavin shook his head. “You had always served… You were serving the Triad.”

  Davel glared at him for a moment, and then his expression softened. “We were, though we didn’t do so happily.”

  Gavin started to smile.

  “What?” Davel said.

  “This is all about you paying penance.”

  “This is not about penance.”

  “It’s certainly not about a desire to protect,” Gavin said.

  “You don’t know anything about what happened then.”

  “No, but I can imagine. And seeing the way you reacted, I have a pretty good idea.” Gavin stared down at the metal. “So the constables and the enchanters began working together, and then the constables decided they wanted to take over—”

  “After the enchanters decided they were going to betray us.”

  Gavin looked at the jade egg. Every time he thought he understood what had happened in Yoran, he found out something new. Some new piece of history; some new information that changed everything for him.

  Gaspar had never spoken of any of that.

  What role did Gaspar have in all of this?

  Gavin didn’t fully understand the politics of Yoran these days. The sorcerers had led in the city up until twenty years ago, and the enchanters and the constables had worked together to push their influence out. When it was over, the constables had turned on the enchanters.

  Now the constables, and Davel Chan, essentially ruled in the city, though there had to be more to it.

  “Who do you serve now?”

  Davel watched him. “There’s a council that leads the city.”

  “And what’s your responsibility with that?” The constables had a significant role in the city, but it was one Gavin hadn’t taken the time to fully understand.

  At first, Gavin wasn’t sure if he was even going to answer, but his mouth tightened into a thin line, his frown deepening. “I sit on the council.”

  At least that answered part of the question for Gavin.

  But it didn’t explain everything.

  They had the Triad, and they had the Fates.

  What if the Fates wanted revenge?

  “If the Triad ruled in the city, I have to believe they were subservient to the Fates,” Gavin said.

  “Possibly,” Davel said.

  “You already considered that.”

  “I would have imagined you had as well.”

  “Given how little I know about the history of Yoran, I don’t know that I could have,” he said, staring at Davel.

  The two men held each other’s gaze, and then Davel looked away, turning his attention back to the egg.

  “The enchantments have allowed us to keep the influence of the sorcerers at bay. Over the last two decades, we’ve been safe, protected from anything the sorcerers think to do. Even the Fates.” Davel lifted the egg, then took one end of the metal and wrapped it around the egg. He started from the bottom and worked quickly to wrap the metal around its entirety.

  Curiosity overwhelmed Gavin. He wanted to know more about the enchantments. Not only how the egg worked with them, but how Davel managed to use it to create them. If he understood that, maybe he could use it himself.

  “What do you have to do with it?” Gavin asked.

  “We have to bind the metal to the egg. There’s a transference of power.”

  “How?” Despite himself, Gavin couldn’t help but feel curious about what Davel was doing.

  “There is a certain intention to it,” Davel said.

  It likely involved a use of magic.

  Gavin glanced down at the sword. The blade had stopped glowing, so whatever smoke and energy he had detected above seemed to be gone.

  Davel continued wrapping the metal around the egg, and then he stopped. He pressed his hands on either side of it, squeezing for a moment. Gavin watched him out of curiosity, but he also watched the sword because of a suspicion he had. There came a flare of power along the sword. It was brief, and when it was done, Gavin knew that the enchantment had taken hold.

  “Did you do it?” he asked softly.

  Davel set the egg down, and he carefully began to remove the metal that he’d wound around it. “It’s done,” he said.

  “What enchantment did you make?”

  “I wanted something that would allow me to know whether there is magic used around me.”

  “Interesting,” Gavin said.

  Davel looked over. “Not all of us have an El’aras dagger—or sword.” He held out the metal, and then with another squeeze, he pressed the metal together and formed a bracelet.

  Gavin was reminded of the bracelet he now wore. Olivia had done something different when making enchantments. She had used her own power, through her connection to her magic. This was something else, though if Gavin was right, there was more of an element of magic to it than what he suspected Davel understood—or probably believed.

  Davel began to wrap another band of metal around the egg. He worked quickly and then pressed his hands on either side of it. As before, the sword surged with a bright white glow. This time, it was also met by a surge of white light from the new enchantment that Davel had made. When it was done, Davel began to peel the metal off the egg again.

  “How long have you known?” Gavin asked.

  “How long have I known what?”

  “That you had magic.”

  Davel paused, and he looked up at Gavin. “What was that?” He asked it slowly, dangerously.

  “With what you’re doing. Obviously, you have to have some magic for this to work.” Gavin tapped on the table, pointing to the egg. “I suspect much of it comes from the egg, but for there to be a purpose behind it and for the egg to know just what you want to do, there has to be magic within you.” He held Davel’s gaze. “How long have you known?”

  “I don’t have magic. The magi
c comes from the egg.”

  Gavin smiled and shrugged. “If that’s what you prefer to believe, but I don’t think that’s quite right.”

  “And you are some expert on magic?”

  “Not an expert at all. I am, however, familiar with magic, and I have felt it used around me enough times that I can recognize when it’s used near me now.”

  And he was certain of what he detected. He was certain Davel had been using magic, even though he claimed he hadn’t been. As far as Gavin knew, the power Davel had been using was enough to pulse outward, pushing with considerable force and energy. It didn’t surprise him that Davel would have a connection to magic, only that he didn’t acknowledge it.

  Davel began to wrap another band of metal around the egg. He pulled it from the spool, and he pressed his hands on either side of it. As it surged with white light, all the other enchantments began to glow softly.

  “That’s the egg,” Davel said.

  “If you say so,” Gavin responded. He’d once doubted his own magical ability, so he understood how difficult it could be to learn you had magic.

  Davel continued making enchantments, working quickly. After a while, he shifted techniques, winding the metal around the egg in a different fashion. Gavin frowned as he did, trying to make sense of what Davel was doing.

  “Is this a different enchantment?” Gavin asked.

  “A little different.”

  “You aren’t still trying to make one to detect magic?”

  “No. I’m trying to contain it,” Davel said.

  “How?”

  “There are certain enchantments allowed to hold magic. There is something about the enchantment that repels magic used against it.”

  That would be useful, if true. Gavin could easily imagine having an enchantment that would repel an attack. He could use that if sorcerers were to come at him.

  “I would like an enchantment like that,” he said.

  “I didn’t have the sense you wanted enchantments.”

  “Generally, no. But if you have something that can repel magic…”

  “It’s not so much repelling magic. It’s a matter of containing it.”

  “It sounds like it’s all about intent,” Gavin said.

  Davel looked down. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “All I want is something that can keep magic from hitting me. Do you think you can make anything like that?”

  Davel opened his mouth as if he were going to object, but then he closed it and began to wrap some of the metal around the egg again. He worked slowly this time, deliberately, and he turned the egg from side to side as he did, focusing on it.

  There came a hint of a soft light glowing from Gavin’s sword, though he didn’t see nearly the same glow from the enchantments now resting on the table. Either the sword was better attuned to the use of magic, or Davel somehow prevented his use of magic from being revealed. After a moment, he pressed again, and the sword surged with a white light.

  Davel glanced over at him, shaking his head.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Gavin said.

  “You didn’t have to.”

  Davel peeled the enchantment off the egg, and then he squeezed. As before, there was another surge of light. The enchantment constricted, forming a bracelet. Davel held it out.

  “Will this repel magic?” Gavin asked.

  “Probably. It won’t contain it, though, so if that’s what you want, I would have to form something else.”

  “Is that how that one would work?” Gavin pointed to one of the enchantments that had been set on the table, one that probably allowed Davel to confine magic.

  “That’s how it should work,” Davel said.

  “Interesting.”

  Davel ignored him, and Gavin stood back, watching him work. He had a practiced hand. Gavin could imagine Davel down here, creating enchantments, working one after another.

  “If you had all of these enchantments, then what happened to them?” Gavin asked.

  “I’ve told you what happened to them.”

  “No, you said that they were destroyed.”

  “The enchantments don’t last indefinitely. Over time, the power within them fades. They have to be recharged—or remade. We found that remaking them seems to be more effective for holding on to power longer.”

  Gavin glanced down at the enchantment he wore on his wrist. “How quickly do they fade?” He knew enchantments faded over time. The stronger the magic user, the longer they would last, but it was a general rule and not anything predictable.

  “If they lasted indefinitely, people would carry enchantments forever.”

  Gavin reached up, touching his ear. The enchantment had been made by the El’aras. In the time that he’d had it, he hadn’t noticed any fading, but maybe that was why it wasn’t working quite as effectively. Only, the enchantment that he initially had, the one that he and Wrenlow had worked with for all those years, never seemed to fade.

  “I would imagine the egg would allow you to create incredibly powerful enchantments.”

  “Oh, now it’s the egg again, not me?” Davel asked, pausing as he wrapped more metal around the egg.

  “Only because you said so,” Gavin said, smiling.

  “The egg has power, but again it’s only enchanter power.”

  “I would think the enchanters would have much more capability of adding power to things.”

  “It’s still not the same as a sorcerer placing it. A sorcerer might be able to place power that will remain with an item for years. Decades. Sometimes even longer.” Davel looked down at the metal, pulling it off the egg. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a sorcerer to place enchantments like that. Which means we have had to rely upon the egg to continue placing them.”

  Gavin grinned, yet he still didn’t say anything to him about how, even though they didn’t have a sorcerer, they did have an enchanter—Davel.

  Gavin could see that Davel had magic every time he surged power through himself, creating each enchantment. He didn’t even need the egg to do it. When he squeezed the end of the metal together, it created an additional enchantment to it. Gavin started watching the sword and noting how it glowed periodically, but each time it did, a hint of power surged from it—but nothing more than that.

  Finally, Davel was done with the spool of metal, and he grabbed another one. As he started to unwind it, Gavin noticed his blade glowing more brightly.

  “What are you doing?” Gavin asked him.

  “I’m not doing anything. I’m preparing.”

  Davel wasn’t doing anything with the enchantment.

  Gavin turned his attention to the door behind him and groaned. “I thought you said the barracks have protections around them.”

  “They do.”

  Gavin could feel something, but it was not only that, but it was also the way the blade continued to glow brightly. Davel said it wasn’t him, which meant something else. Something worse.

  “Then I think we have a problem.”

  “What kind?”

  “A sorcery problem.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The blade continued to steadily glow as Gavin gripped the sword. He focused on his core reserves, trying to reach for that power, but didn’t want to draw on too much and risk wasting that power before he needed to use it. He had no idea what was going to come. If the Fate was willing to attack the constables’ barracks, then the sorcerer truly was fearless.

  Gavin hurried over to the table and grabbed the jade egg. Then, on a whim, he grabbed a spool of metal and stuffed it into his pocket. Surprisingly, the spool wasn’t very heavy. It was efficient that the small, narrow bands of thin metal wrapped around the spool could simply be unwound to create each enchantment. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was another way to create enchantments that might be more effective.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Davel asked.

  “Well, I figure if we’re going to be attacked, we might as well keep the jade egg
away from the sorcerers. And if we need to make another enchantment, why not have your supplies?”

  Davel frowned, then hurried over to a cabinet, pulled out two more spools, and stuffed them into his pocket before joining Gavin. They both stood in front of the door.

  “What do you think?” Davel asked.

  “I think it’s time for us to test whether or not your enchantment repels magic.”

  Gavin pulled open the door. A wisp of smoke slammed into him but then bounced away. He smiled. “Seems like it works.”

  He whipped the sword around, drawing on his core reserves of power. If the smoke wasn’t coming from one of the sorcerers, then it was still something that served them.

  “The sword isn’t doing anything,” Davel said. He had a similar repelling enchantment, and the smoke wasn’t getting any closer to him—but it also didn’t allow him to do anything else.

  If they couldn’t carve through the smoke, they needed another option.

  “We need to trap it,” Gavin said.

  “It’s a good thing I made another enchantment.” Davel pulled out an enchantment and threw it onto the ground. It was shaped something like a silver bowl, with spiraling patterns worked around the surface.

  Gavin wasn’t sure what to make of that. Typically, an enchantment had to be close to a person, in contact with skin, to use the power within it. He didn’t know what purpose Davel would have by tossing it on the ground. There wouldn’t be any way for him to use that power, to summon the energy within it.

  And without that…

  The smoke slammed into Gavin’s enchantment again, which repelled it. He continued swinging his sword, but it was as if he were trying to cut through the wind. He could do nothing to the smoke to harm it, but maybe he didn’t have to.

  If the enchantment on the ground worked by needing to have contact with the smoke, then maybe all Gavin had to do was to find a way to force the smoke closer to the enchantment. He swept the blade around, trying to move the smoke toward the trap.

  “You need another one,” Gavin said.

  “That one will work,” Davel said.