The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3

by Holmberg, D. K.

  There was another shadow out in the night, though this one was far more difficult for him to see. Gavin had learned that Gaspar wasn’t the most skilled thief in their makeshift crew. Imogen was.

  She was deadly quiet. It was as if she practically floated above the ground, an enchantment carrying her forward. Gavin had yet to uncover her secret, but he was sure that there was one to be found. If it was simply that she was naturally that skilled, he didn’t know if he would be disappointed or impressed.

  “Is she ready?” Gavin asked.

  “She’s always ready,” Gaspar said.

  Gavin nodded, counting on Gaspar to have seen it. It would be beneficial if Imogen had an enchantment that they could use to talk to her as well, but the El’aras enchantment was made only for three-way communication. If only he’d taken the time to request something more.

  He still could, he realized. Anna had given him a token as a means of reaching her and summoning her, but Gavin was loath to use it for something that was not an emergency. He had no idea how she would respond—or if she would. It seemed he should wait for a time when he actually had the need. There might be others who could help anyway. Given what Davel Chan had said about enchanters in the city, they could find one to help create an additional earpiece for them.

  “Then we should go,” Gavin said.

  He darted across the street. The movement was as quick as he could make it without dipping into his core reserves of power. Gaspar was waiting for him. The old thief was swift, and he moved almost faster than Gavin did when he didn’t tap into those reserves.

  Imogen stood further along the street, though she wasn’t going to break in quite yet. She would wait.

  “Are you in position?” Gavin whispered to Wrenlow.

  “I’m here.”

  “You always wanted to come out on a job.”

  “I wanted to be a part of a job, but I’m not sure that I wanted to be a part of this job.”

  Gavin smiled to himself again, imagining Wrenlow sitting on the rooftop two streets away. Not that Gavin would blame him. There was something to be said about spending time out in the middle of the night with nothing but the darkness as a companion, uncertain of what might happen.

  He glanced over toward the building. He knew that Wrenlow wouldn’t be able to see much from there, but his focus would be watching the street, not seeing beyond the wall. Still, for this job, they needed as many eyes as possible.

  Gavin glanced over at Gaspar. “Are you ready?”

  “I’m ready as I will be.”

  “If you want to stay behind, I’m sure Imogen would be more than capable.”

  “She most definitely would be, but I’m not letting you drag her into this.”

  “You don’t even know what’s going to happen,” Gavin said.

  “I have a fairly good idea about what will take place. Knowing you, whatever plan we have will fall apart, forcing us to fight our way out.”

  “If that’s the case, then I might prefer to have her with me. Especially since the only reason I’m here is because of you.”

  Gaspar glared at him. “If there’s a fight, you’d definitely want to have her with you. I’m here to make sure the plan stays on target.”

  Gavin started to laugh but stopped when he realized Gaspar wasn’t joking. Of course, he wouldn’t be. In Gavin’s experience, Gaspar rarely joked, and certainly never about anything like this.

  They reached the wall surrounding the fortress. Desarra had given them the plans they needed, Wrenlow had confirmed it through his sources, and now…

  Now it was Gavin’s turn.

  “Are you ready?” he asked Gaspar again.

  “You don’t need to ask a thief if he’s ready. I’m always ready.”

  “I never know. Given your age, I thought maybe you fell asleep.”

  Gaspar scowled at him. Gavin chuckled, scrambled up the wall, and dropped over to the other side. He immediately rolled, kicking and twisting so that he didn’t land in the bells trees.

  When he got to his feet, he hissed into the enchantment, “Careful. The trees are dangerous.”

  Gaspar rolled off the top of the wall and landed next to Gavin, completely avoiding the bells trees. “I noticed. I was impressed you were able to twist out of the way. I thought maybe I’d need to inoculate you after you carved yourself up on those bells trees.”

  “When did you notice them?”

  “I saw the trees out there when we were scouting. Figured you caught sight of them, but these days, I don’t even know how much you see. For a man as skilled as you claim you are, I have a hard time thinking that you’re really as dangerous as you want me to believe.”

  Gavin just laughed softly. These days, he didn’t feel that dangerous either. “You could’ve warned me.”

  “Warning you takes the fun out of it. Besides, I still like to test just how skilled you are.”

  Gavin shook his head. “You were testing me.”

  “Everything’s a test, boy.”

  It sounded like something Tristan would say.

  Gaspar nodded toward the fortress. “Keep moving. Now that we’re inside, we don’t want to linger. Your friend will be able to tell us if there’s anyone coming, but we have to act quickly.”

  “Are you still able to hear us?” Gavin whispered to Wrenlow.

  “I still can hear you. It sounds a little bit off, but that might just be the way you’re talking.”

  Gavin hesitated. Something sounding off usually meant that there was magical interference. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t anything to do about it now.

  He started forward through the beautiful garden. There were many different flower beds, all adorned with blooms of different colors—roses, tulips, daisies, among others. The fragrances filled the air, giving a beautiful vibrancy to this place. Bells trees dotted the inside of the wall, a prized possession of many upscale homes in Yoran. Gavin suspected that most of the homeowners grew them for their supposed luck or for their beauty, and that very few of them used them defensively because of their razor-sharp leaves. In a place like the fortress, however, the trees very well could’ve been part of a defensive plan.

  When they reached the outer edge of the fortress, he paused to look over at Gaspar, who stood on the other side of the doorway. Gavin nodded. Gaspar slid over and twisted the lock, which didn’t budge, and then began to pick at it. He worked quickly, his nimble fingers activating the lock, throwing the door open far more rapidly than Gavin would’ve been able to do. He would’ve used brute force if he was doing this job on his own.

  Of course, Gavin knew better than to do this job solo. Though he had worked alone for a long time, there was something about a job like this—going into a massive fortress and taking this kind of gamble—that called for support.

  Gaspar stepped inside. Gavin unsheathed his El’aras dagger and followed. It didn’t glow—a good sign. Once inside, he quickly scanned their surroundings.

  They were in a massive entry hall. Swords lined the walls, all of them exhibited in a way that looked decorative but also deadly. They were made of steel, and they gleamed with the faint light of the single lantern still lit in the entryway. The marble floor displayed an image that seemed to be an incomplete map of the region, which emphasized Yoran’s position in all of it.

  “Nothing subtle about this,” Gaspar whispered. “Given what we’ve figured out about the layout of this place, your target is likely to be on the third floor. Get moving.”

  “Not my target. Our target. Remember why I took the job.”

  “I remember. Let’s get the boy.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m your support, and that’s it. Helping you find your way through this. Not fighting, if that’s what you’re asking about. I’m the thief, remember?”

  “I’m heading toward the rooms that look like they could hold this boy. You notify me if you see anything,” he said, tapping the enchantment, “and maybe intervene if there’s someth
ing coming my way.”

  “I’ll consider it,” Gaspar said. “Get moving. Don’t want to be here longer than we have to be.”

  Gavin shook his head but started up the stairs. They had as much of a floor plan as they were able to obtain. It had taken time on Wrenlow’s part to confirm the details of the floor plan, and that had been cobbled together from people who had been here before. Desarra had done it in a day, which left Gavin with questions that Gaspar preferred not to answer.

  Despite the double-checking they did ahead of time, there were aspects to the plan that weren’t quite right. The door they came across was a few paces away from where they believed it would be, and the landing was slightly larger than they had anticipated. Much of their intel came from someone else’s recollection, and building a map on that was difficult.

  “How does it look?” Wrenlow asked.

  “I wish you could see what I can see,” Gavin whispered.

  “You could’ve asked her for a better enchantment.”

  “I can only imagine what she would’ve said if I’d suggested she needed to improve the type of enchantment she was willing to give us. It’s a wonder that—”

  “You two need to be quiet,” Gaspar hissed.

  “There’s no one here,” Gavin said.

  “You have no idea who might be listening. Do you think you’re the only two who have an enchanted way of speaking?”

  Gavin froze. He hadn’t given much thought to that possibility before, though he probably should have. Knowing what he did of Yoran and the way that people presumably hated magic, he’d found a surprising amount of it throughout the city. Some of it was obvious, but not all. There were aspects to some of the enchantments he’d seen here that had caught him off guard.

  “Let’s just say you and Desarra did a great job,” Gavin said into the enchantment.

  Gaspar shot him a look of irritation at the mention of Desarra’s name.

  “Thanks,” Wrenlow said.

  Gavin hurried up the stairs and turned the corner, then paused on the third level. He wasn’t far from where he needed to end up. He looked all around him and counted the doors. He worked his way along and marked them off.

  The sound of footsteps came toward him.

  “Gaspar?” he whispered into the earpiece.

  “Not me,” Gaspar responded.

  Gavin spun and found himself face-to-face with what he assumed to be a soldier from his silence and fighting stance. He guessed that this man was skilled with a blade, but there was a difference between skill and skill.

  Gavin had skill.

  He twisted, turning the dagger upward and forcing it away. He jammed the attacker on the side of the head with the hilt of his dagger, which knocked him toward the ground. The man didn’t pass out from the blow. Instead, he spun his leg. Gavin jumped over it, flipping in the air and landing a kick. His boot connected with the side of the soldier’s head, knocking him unconscious.

  Gavin glanced down. He couldn’t leave him here. An unconscious body would raise questions if another patrol came out, it would rouse the entire guard.

  He hoisted the soldier. “Which rooms are empty?” he whispered.

  “How am I supposed to know?” Wrenlow said. “The reports we had didn’t give us that information. Desarra gave me the layout, and I confirmed it. That’s it. We weren’t able to determine which rooms were empty and which were not.”

  “I need to know which ones you think might be empty.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “Gavin—”

  “You need to just tell me which one you think is empty.”

  “Maybe the third one,” Wrenlow said. “The others should all be bedrooms.”

  Gavin dragged the soldier down to the third room and leaned his head against the door, listening for a moment. There was no sound from the other side, so he tested the door and gently pushed it open.

  A closet.

  At least there was that. He could leave the guard here. If the man awakened, then he would raise an alarm, but Gavin hoped he would be gone by that time. Gavin wondered if he might be able to jam the door closed, but there wasn’t time.

  He closed the door and leaned on it as he looked along the hallway.

  Which room do I need?

  If only Desarra had said more, though Gavin had a nagging suspicion that she knew more than she was letting on. It was too bad Gaspar had never let him question her.

  Once he chose a room, Gavin and Gaspar had to be ready. They were bound to raise an alarm. He scanned the doors and picked one.

  He darted forward along the hall to the door. He paused, resting his hand on it and listening, but he heard nothing. He didn’t even feel anything on the other side. Gavin twisted the handle and pushed it open.

  Two guards stood stationed at another door. They were dressed simply in gray mail and leathers with a short sword sheathed at their sides. One of them carried a crossbow, which would be beneficial if they were able to get to it in time. One of the men had a long, hooked nose, and the other had a scar on his neck. They looked rugged, as if they had been through a scuffle or two. Still, Gavin didn’t fear going through them. He’d been around men much rougher than that before.

  This was nothing but an antechamber. Gavin slipped in and closed the door as the guards turned their attention to him. He flashed a smile.

  Their speed surprised him. Not El’aras quick, but still quick. Enchanted quick.

  He twisted and spun in a Sudo move before dropping. He drove his fist toward one soldier’s stomach, and the man wrenched out of the way, avoiding his blow. Gavin jumped and tried to land a kick, but their enchantments allowed them to back up more rapidly than he could move.

  Both men carried short swords. Gavin wasn’t interested in killing them. Not unless he found they’d done something to the boy. Still, if it came down to him or them, he’d have to choose himself. It was the choice he’d make every time.

  He focused on his core reserves and called upon that power. As it bubbled up within him, he exploded toward the nearest of the men. When the soldier swung his blade, Gavin struck it down using the El’aras dagger.

  The blade bounced harmlessly away from Gavin, clattering to the stone floor. Gavin twisted, punching up and catching the man underneath the chin, sending his head ricocheting back. As he slowed to the next movement in this pattern, he swept his leg around toward the other soldier.

  He was gone.

  Gavin spun and found the man standing behind him. That was quick.

  Wrenlow chirped in his ear, though his voice was muted. Gavin ignored it as best as he could, and if there’d been time, he would have silenced him altogether.

  He jumped and kicked off a wall, landing with the man across from him.

  The small size of this room gave Gavin—and his dagger—somewhat of an advantage. He didn’t have to deal with the overall length and difficulty of a sword. Within this space, a dagger was much more useful.

  He ducked low and drove his fist forward. The swordsman was quick and cut him off. Gavin rolled to the side, popping up to feign an attack before dipping back down. As he rolled again, the other soldier caught his ankle.

  Shit.

  Gavin kicked away, but his rhythm had been thrown off. The first attacker was waiting and swung, and his sword cut into Gavin’s back. He pushed the pain away, though his mind processed it. It was a fairly deep wound, and if the sword had struck him in the right way, it was possible that it had punctured his lungs.

  He tried not to think about what had happened. Even if it were a punctured lung, Gavin had to keep fighting through it. Thankfully, he healed quickly. If he survived.

  When he spun again, he twisted his foot. Pain surged in his back from the movement. Fighting through the pain was an exercise of mental strength. Gavin’s training had helped him learn how to ignore such pain, and even now he recognized how to push it to the back of his mind, but he had to be careful. One of the detrim
ents to that kind of training was that he often didn’t know just how seriously he’d been hurt.

  The swordsman watched him, as if he knew what Gavin was going through. Gavin focused on the core strength within him again and then burst forward. The sudden violent nature of that attack was enough to throw his attacker off guard. He darted forward, weaving through movements, and he stabbed the dagger into the man’s shoulder. His sword dropped to the ground. Gavin finished the movement by bringing his knee around and slamming it into the man’s face. The soldier crumpled.

  Gavin panted for a moment and had to gather himself. When he was ready, he turned toward the door. There was no sound on the other side. He’d made plenty of noise, and anyone outside the room would have heard him, but it didn’t seem as if there was anyone there. He tested the door and then pushed it open.

  The sleeping chamber was enormous and looked nearly as large as the dormitory where he had first trained with Tristan. That had housed two dozen boys and girls of his age. This was a single room, with a single bed that was massive enough to fit three to four people in it. A silky canopy curved down above it. This room was much nicer than anything he had ever seen.

  Who slept in a place like this?

  It was quite formal—fancy even. It didn’t fit into the rest of the fortress’s decor.

  Gavin moved inside. There was an emptiness to the room that felt hollow, as if he had missed something. He had no idea why he felt that way, only that he believed it to be true.

  He headed back toward the antechamber for a lantern, and the El’aras dagger started to glow.

  “Balls.”

  “What is it?” Gaspar whispered through the enchantment.

  “Magic. And a lot of it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Gavin backed toward the door and quickly tried to survey everything around him. There had been a guard in the hallway, two in the antechamber, and now there was another one here in this room.

  He just hadn’t seen them.