He stayed in the shadows, watching until they passed. It was as easy for him to wait in the alley as it was for him to pace along the street, but on the street at least he was moving. At least he was doing something.
Attacking the Captain had been a dangerous plan from the beginning. Gavin should’ve known better than to have rushed in there without more intel. But the information that Desarra had provided and that Wrenlow had corroborated suggested it was reasonable.
He leaned back, watching the street. She was to meet him soon.
It was a dark night. No moon. No stars. Hints of clouds drifted across the sky. The only light came from the few street lanterns. In this section of the city, there wasn’t generally a need for more.
The crowd of people was the only grouping that he had seen since coming out here. Every so often, there would be a single person making their way, usually stumbling. Never anything more. Even the constables didn’t patrol at this time of night.
He lost track of how long he’d been waiting. His attention peaked when he finally saw a shadowed cloak moving along the street. Erica.
She’d promised she would come alone, but then again, she had also claimed she was looking for a boy. And had said nothing about him—or her—being a sorcerer. As she moved along the street, Gavin stepped out of the alley and joined her.
She jumped but calmed herself quickly. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. I didn’t know if I had given you enough time.”
Erica looked just as lovely as she had when he’d first seen her. Her green eyes were a little darker in the night, and the cloak hid the figure Jessica had teased him about.
“I’m here,” he said.
“Did you find him?”
Gavin studied her for a few moments. “I found him.”
“He was there? Was he… was he hurt?”
“No. But you should know that extricating him from the fortress was harder than we had anticipated.”
“I told you I was willing to pay. You were the one who named the price.”
Gavin grunted. “I did. And you were also aware that it wasn’t the kind of job I normally take.”
Was that why she had hired me? Could it have been that she wanted the assassin, not that she wanted me to rescue the boy—girl?
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“You knew what kind of work I normally do.” They paused at a street intersection, and he turned to face her. “I’m starting to wonder if you hired me for that specific purpose.”
“I wanted my son back.”
“Really? Describe him to me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Describe your son to me. I want to make sure I brought the right person out of the fortress.”
“He’s about ten. Wispy brown hair. He has delicate features, sharp cheekbones, a pointed nose. A little rosiness to his cheeks. You can’t miss him. There’s even a single mole right here.” She pointed to her left cheek.
That could have described Alex. Of course, it could have described many people in Yoran. Many of them had the same wispy brown hair, along with the fine, almost delicate features that Alex had.
“Any other distinguishing characteristics?”
“What is this about? I thought you’d found him. That’s why I came to meet you.”
“I just want to make sure that I did the job you hired me to do,” Gavin said. He placed his hand on the hilt of the El’aras dagger. “I think I told you when we first met that I’m typically hired for different purposes.” He watched her. “At the time, you said you didn’t know what those were, but I wonder if you know more than you’re letting on.”
“Gavin?”
“What were you really after?”
“Where is my son?” She raised her voice, and there was something almost panicked about it.
He was tempted to believe her. Part of him wanted to believe her, but he didn’t know if he should. Perhaps that was his mistake in the first place. He had believed that she was a mother searching for a lost son, and he hadn’t even given as much thought as he should’ve to the possibility of who she might be and what she might be after.
“You came to the Dragon looking for a specific person,” he said.
If she’d come to the Dragon for Gaspar, it might have been different. Even a thief might’ve been better for the job than an assassin. At the time, Gavin had thought it was simply a case of a rumor of a name, but it had to be something different. Perhaps something more. He should have thought more about it before now.
Gavin had been used by others over the years, and for the most part, it had worked out for him. He hadn’t killed anybody going to the fortress. Nothing had been done that couldn’t be undone. Only, he had attacked the Captain. If the Captain learned who he was and decided to come after him, he’d have to deal with a different set of consequences. With him connected to power within the city, he had the potential to be dangerous.
“I came because I heard you were skilled. All I wanted was somebody capable of getting my son. I figured it needed to be somebody with enough talent for that.”
The panicked sound in her voice picked up, and yet this time there was something else within it that troubled Gavin even more—almost as if she were acting.
Now he was suspicious.
He held onto the El’aras dagger, but he didn’t withdraw it.
“There are probably stories about me within the city,” Gavin said. “And if you leave Yoran, there are definitely stories about me and about the person I’ve been in those places.” He leaned forward and held her gaze. “You hired an assassin to find your son.”
He looked for some sign of shock.
