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.