The Chain Breaker: Books 1-3

by Holmberg, D. K.

  He waited for Gaspar to argue with him, but he didn’t.

  That didn’t explain what Gaspar had been doing in the time since he’d left the constables. Those would be questions for another time.

  “What about you?” Gaspar asked.

  “I have to finish my other job.”

  “You can’t give it back to them,” Gaspar said.

  “I don’t know what I can do. I’m not so sure the enchanters need to have it either. Not after what they were willing to do.”

  “Their families suffered for it.”

  “They did, but…”

  Gavin didn’t know what to do or say, only that he felt as if the jade egg was too powerful to leave to those within the city. They’d already proven they didn’t have the right mindset to handle power like that.

  “Just work with them,” Gavin said.

  “Will I see you back at the Dragon?”

  Gavin glanced over, and he stared for a moment. “I don’t know.”

  He walked away, and when he reached the wall, he quickly jumped to the top of it. Gaspar still looked back at him, and Gavin didn’t have anything he could even say.

  “What do you want me to do?” Wrenlow asked, creeping along the wall toward him.

  Gavin crouched in place a moment. “I want you to do what you want.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You don’t have to be a fighter,” Gavin said. “I never asked that of you.”

  “I know—”

  “And some of the things we’ve faced are beyond even my ability.”

  “That’s why you need me.” Wrenlow shrugged. “You might not always see my value—”

  “I know your value,” Gavin said softly.

  “But you need me. Others. You can’t do this alone. You don’t have to be alone.” He held Gavin’s gaze without flinching.

  Gavin smiled. “You’re right.”

  “Am I?”

  He nodded. “Now get away from here before the constables show up and decide they need to pull you in for questioning.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Gavin smiled. “Deal with the constables.”

  He scaled down the wall, and once he was in the street, he worked his way around until he found a pair of constables on patrol.

  Gavin headed straight toward them. “Call Davel Chan.”

  The two constables turned and advanced on him. “What did you just say?” one of them said.

  The fight was quick. Gavin darted toward the first of the constables and drove his fist into his midsection. The man bent over slightly, and Gavin jammed his open palm into his forehead, knocking him back. The second one darted toward him, and Gavin swept his knife hand around, catching him on the side of the neck. Neither would be seriously injured. He crouched over the first man he’d knocked down.

  “Call Davel Chan.”

  He waited, but not for long.

  * * *

  There had to be a dozen constables coming toward him. Gavin remained near the edge of the street, watching the coming patrol. He remained hidden and ignored the rest of the constables. It wasn’t until he caught sight of where their leader was hiding that he stepped forward.

  Gavin crept up to him and nodded.

  “You really prefer to take a dangerous approach,” Davel Chan said.

  “I figure it’s the only way to get a hold of you.”

  “You could do so without calling attention to yourself.”

  Gavin shrugged. “I figure you’ll take care of things for me.”

  “What do you need now?”

  “I’ve completed the job.”

  “You have the egg?”

  Gavin nodded. “I have it.”

  “Here,” Chan said, grabbing a pouch and tossing it at Gavin’s feet.

  Gavin lifted it and glanced briefly inside to check to make sure the gold crowns were there.

  “This is where you’re supposed to give it to me.”

  “It was destroyed,” Gavin said.

  “What?”

  “That was what the others wanted. They destroyed the egg.” He flashed a sad smile. “Unfortunately. I know how much you wanted the egg, but I couldn’t preserve it.”

  Chan narrowed his gaze. “That wasn’t the agreement.”

  “The agreement was that I recover the egg. Which I did. Then it was destroyed.”

  “You don’t want to make an enemy of me.”

  “And you don’t want to make an enemy of me. You see, I’ve been trying to figure out just what’s been going on. You’re the one who’s been selling enchanters to the Captain. It had to be somebody who had the position and authority to make a bargain. If others in the city were to learn that, I think there would be an uproar. The constables were allowing enchanters to stay here?”

  Davel Chan glared at him. Gavin kept one hand on the sword, waiting to see if it might glow. It didn’t. With the enchantments he now possessed, some of which were borrowed from the Mistress of Vines, he wasn’t nearly as concerned about his own safety as he had been when he’d faced Davel Chan before.

  “You don’t need to keep going after them,” Gavin said.

  “That’s our responsibility.”

  “Perhaps it once had been, but no longer.”

  “Why?” Chan asked.

  “The enchanters were your allies. It’s time for you to start treating them that way.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  “Then you’ll make an enemy of me.” Gavin turned a dark eye at him. “I’m quite certain you don’t want that.”

  “I thought you wanted money so you could leave the city.”

  “Perhaps I did earlier. Now I don’t.”

  “I’ll consider your suggestion,” Chan said.

  “That’s not good enough.”

  “What you’re asking is impossible.”

  “About as impossible as enchanters being enslaved by the Captain?” Gavin shook his head. “I think there are many things that are possible. You just have to have the right attitude about them.”

  Chan glowered at him. “It might be best if you leave the city.”

  “I’ll consider it,” Gavin said. “When all of this is stable.” He had no idea how long that would take, but he felt as if he had to stay now. The enchanters needed his protection. For now. They didn’t need an assassin, but there were other ways to use his skills. He had friends here now.

  Wasn’t that enough?

  “Just consider?”

  “I need to ensure you aren’t going to continue what you’ve been doing. Once I’m satisfied with that, then you might find that I leave the city.”

  “I might find that.”

  “You might,” Gavin said, shrugging. “Or you might find that I continue to eliminate your constables. I think we both know how that will go.” He glanced back at the dozen or so constables behind him. “I could start now, if you would like.”

  “I don’t think you’d find it as easy as you believe.”

  “Are you sure? I’m certain I could change the dynamics in the city in a much different way. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that.”

  “No,” Chan said.

  “Then you leave the enchanters alone.”

  A hint of tension in his arms left Gavin thinking he might attack, but then he relaxed. “Fine. They are not to practice openly.”

  “Have they been?”

  Chan stared at him, and the blank expression gave Gavin the answer that he needed.

  “Now I’m going to go, and I don’t expect to be followed. If I am, you’ll find yourself down several constables. Oh,” Gavin said, pausing as he backed down the street, “you will leave the Roasted Dragon alone.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “The consequences will be the same.”

  Chan continued to glare at him, and Gavin only shrugged, heading away.

  Gavin was tired and needed to sleep, and he had to find a place where he could do so safe
ly. Until he knew what Chan might do, the Dragon wasn’t going to be safe for him. Given what he’d done to the other enchanters and what he’d done with Gaspar, Desarra’s home wouldn’t be safe for him either.

  His feet guided him to Cyran’s home. By the time he snuck inside and went down the trapdoor to the lair, he was exhausted. He used a hint of the core energy to pull the door open, and then he sealed it closed behind him. Once inside, he sank to the ground, resting just inside of the door and pulled out the egg to look at it.

  All of this for the egg.

  He’d been in the city too long. Longer than he had intended. Longer than he’d ever been in one place since leaving Tristan’s training. Now he didn’t know if he could leave yet. The enchanters needed him.

  Here he had come to the city for work, looking for jobs that might have a level of danger but that would permit him a level of freedom. Instead, he found himself caught up in something different. Worse.

  I might be the breaker of chains, but what chains are they?

  Gavin couldn’t help but feel that the chains he’d broken inside of Yoran were around the entirety of the city. He had no idea if he had freed the people, or if he had unleashed something worse.

  The Fates of Yoran

  Chapter One

  The warehouse in the distance was better lit than Gavin preferred—more than what was necessary for a job like this. He pressed his back against the stone building nearest him. It was a tavern that would normally be boisterous, but it was quiet for probably the same reason Gavin and Gaspar were there.

  “Are you going to stay there, boy, or are you going to get moving?” Gaspar asked.

  Gaspar hadn’t given Gavin much insight about the job, only that it was something important to him. That alone was probably enough for Gavin to agree to take the job, but for whatever reason, Gaspar had preferred to keep it more secretive than Gavin thought necessary.

  Gavin looked across the street to where Gaspar flattened himself against a different building. The only part of the old thief that stood out was his shock of silver hair and his flat gray eyes. Otherwise, his faded gray cloak helped him blend in. The building Gaspar concealed himself against was a general store that sold supplies, though it was one Gavin had never visited before.

  “I don’t tell you what to do on my jobs.”

  Gaspar grunted. “You tell me often enough. Like you know better than a man who’s worked on the streets for his entire career.”

  “You worked on the streets as a constable,” Gavin said in a whisper. The enchantment that permitted them to speak to each other made the words carry easily, so he knew Gaspar wouldn’t struggle with hearing his taunt. “How long were you a thief?”

  “Careful, boy.”

  Gavin shook his head. Gaspar, despite his age, had good eyesight. Hopefully, he would see Gavin’s annoyance. He had to suppress it. None of his annoyance was really Gaspar’s fault. It was the situation. Staying in Yoran.

  The choice had been his, but there were times when it felt otherwise.

  “Will the two of you just get going?” Wrenlow’s voice broke in between the two of them.

  “Stay out of it, kid,” Gaspar said.

  “You don’t need to talk to him like that,” Gavin said.

  “My job, my talk. Now we’re going to do this quietly.”

  Gavin looked at the warehouse. It was a low stone building with a flat roof, and it occupied nearly the entire block. He stared at it, but they hadn’t seen any movement since their arrival. Gavin hadn’t expected to. Gaspar had scouted well enough, and as far as he knew, Imogen had taken care of anyone who might be watching.

  “I don’t know why you really need me for this anyway,” Gavin said. “You already have your muscle.”

  Gavin still didn’t know what Imogen was capable of doing. She was a skilled sword fighter—one of the most skilled he’d ever encountered—but he didn’t think she had magic. Maybe enchantments, but he hadn’t been able to determine whether she had any on her.

  “I said quiet,” Gaspar growled.

  He leaned forward, and then he scurried across the street, moving far more rapidly than Gavin would’ve given him credit for. Gaspar was older, though Gavin hadn’t learned how old. He had served as a constable for several decades, lost a wife, lost his job, and taken up thieving.

  Gavin didn’t know much else about him. He called Gaspar old, but the man really wasn’t that much older than him. Gavin just looked young. He always had. Some days he felt older than he was, though that was mostly a weariness from everything he’d gone through. Since defeating the Mistress of Vines, he had more free time.

  Gaspar reached the warehouse entrance, slipped out a lockpick set from his pocket, and made quick work of opening a side door. He disappeared inside.

  “You’re in. Now what?” Gavin asked.

  “Now you follow me, you damn fool. Did you forget the plan already?”

  “I was just testing to make sure that you remembered it. You’re getting up in years, so how am I to know whether or not you’ll remember all of these things unless I question it?”

  Gavin darted forward. As soon as he did, a flowing movement came from the side. He twisted, dropping low, and reached for his dagger. The dagger was El’aras made and filled with a strange sort of power. It glowed when magic was used around him.

  Thankfully, it didn’t glow now.

  Whoever approached was not using magic. Not an enchanter, though he still wouldn’t put it past one of them to attack. After what had happened with the Mistress of Vines, Gavin remained uncertain about the enchanters and what they might be willing to do.

  “Where are you, boy?”

  “Quiet,” Gavin hissed.

  “Now you want me to be quiet?”

  Something sped toward him, faster than Gavin could track, but he had trained for scenarios just like this. He rolled to the side and popped up, doing so in the fighting style of Kor. It was a loose sort of stance, but it lent itself well to this type of challenge. He reacted in exaggerated movements, which helped against a much quicker foe.

  If he was right, then his opponent would be quite a bit faster than him.

  He smiled tightly to himself, resisting the urge to reach for the enchantment stuffed in his pocket. It remained there, untouched, where it would stay.

  Gavin had no interest in drawing upon the enchantment for speed and strength, though he could imagine Gaspar’s irritation in learning that he chose not to use something that would grant him a bit of an advantage.

  Why use it when I need to keep myself sharp and spar?

  It had been far too long since he’d had a worthy foe.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We have company,” Gavin said quickly.

  He rolled sideways again as the blur of movement came toward him. He darted after it, swinging low and coming back up, then tumbling off to his side in the same exaggerated manner that was designed to catch somebody who was faster than him. There was always somebody faster and stronger and better, but knowing different styles allowed him to overcome any deficit he had.

  According to his old mentor, Gavin had plenty of deficits, despite Tristan trying to beat them out of him.

  The blurring movement came straight at him again, and he brought his fist around in a rapid shift of direction. The suddenness of it seemed to catch the person off guard. Gavin punched, and then the person became visible.

  He was young, probably no more than eighteen or nineteen, and skinny. Not the kind of person that Gavin would ever have expected to have trouble with normally.

  Gavin slammed his open fist into the attacker’s throat, knocking the wind out of him. He quickly searched and found what he was looking for wrapped around the boy’s neck.

  An enchantment.

  He looked up quickly but didn’t see any sign of other attackers heading toward him.

  “Are you coming?” Gaspar snapped at him.

  “I told you to be patient,” Gavin said.
/>   “You told me to be quiet.”

  “And you’re not being either.”

  He hurriedly finished checking the man and found no other enchantments on him. The one Gavin had retrieved seemed to be a reasonably powerful enchantment for speed, though perhaps not for strength. Not the way that Olivia had made Gavin’s enchantment. Too bad for this boy that he hadn’t added an element to help him recover.

  Gavin dragged the young attacker off to the side of the road, propped him up against the wall in the alley, and then looked toward the warehouse. He could just make out Gaspar’s outline looking out through the cracked door, peering at him.

  “You can get going,” Gavin said.

  “Not without you.”

  “You still haven’t explained why you needed me on this job.”

  He looked over to the fallen boy, shaking his head. If it was only somebody like that, Imogen likely could’ve handled it—maybe not as neatly as Gavin and probably bloodier, though sometimes bloody was necessary. But Gaspar or Imogen could’ve done the job.

  “I’m not a thief,” Gavin said.

  “I don’t need a thief. Now get moving.”

  Gavin inched along the wall, moving deliberately and watching. Now that he knew there was one enchanted attacker, he had to ensure that there wasn’t going to be another. He didn’t want to get caught up in whatever was taking place here.

  “Keep your eyes open,” he said to Gaspar.

  “My eyes are open.”

  “What’s going on there?” Wrenlow asked.

  “Maybe you should be out here,” Gavin said.

  “I’d like to, but Gaspar didn’t want my help.” Wrenlow didn’t even bother to hide the note of disappointment in his voice.

  “You’re better off inside,” Gaspar said. “Stay by the table. By the books.”

  “He’s better doing what he’s good at,” Gavin said.

  “Would you stop talking,” Gaspar muttered.

  Gavin laughed softly. “You’re just mad that he’s sweet on Olivia.”

  Gaspar grunted. “We are not talking about that.”

  “Please,” Wrenlow said.