Cyran had used a poison on him that had taken away his magic, even though he wasn’t aware of it at the time. That was what he needed now.
Could Cyran have suspected that I had some magical tendencies?
He left her sitting in the chair and kept an eye on her as he headed toward Cyran’s cabinets. He hadn’t spent much time searching through them. They were empty, but he doubted that Cyran would’ve left them completely barren. He wouldn’t have had the time. Gavin searched through the cabinets for anything useful.
If only he had paid more attention during Tristan’s training when it came to poisons. He’d been so much more focused on honing his fighting techniques. There wasn’t anything in the cabinets he could use.
He dragged her to the back room. Cyran’s home was small and compact, but it was a sorcerer’s lair. There had to be something more here. He searched the home, looking all around him for a reason that Cyran would have wanted to have this place.
When he reached the rug along the floor, he paused.
He’d looked everywhere else. Why not beneath it?
He rolled up the rug, and a small trapdoor caught his attention.
Gavin smiled. He flipped the door open, and stairs led down into the darkness. There weren’t any lanterns here, and he suspected that was because Cyran wouldn’t have needed them. As a sorcerer, he would’ve had some way of casting his own light.
Gavin lifted her over his shoulder and started down the ladder. When he reached the bottom, complete darkness enveloped him. He wasn’t able to see anything other than the faint light overhead.
He continued forward, feeling his way slowly. When he took a few steps, the floor started to glow. The tension within him faded. That was useful magic.
A narrow hallway led to a small corridor. When he reached the door at the end, he paused. The door was made of iron, and there were symbols all across it. Gavin tested the handle, finding it locked.
He set the woman down. “How do you open this?”
“I’m not going behind a sorcerer’s door.”
Gavin tested the door again, resting his hand on the handle. Gaspar might have known. If only he were here.
Maybe he could be.
Gavin tapped on his enchantment. “Gaspar, if you can hear me, I need you to come to the edge of the city to Cyran’s home. There’s a trapdoor in the back room. Go down into it, and you’ll find me.”
There was silence. It was possible Gaspar didn’t have the enchantment on him at the time. Finally, there came a crackling.
“Why?” Gaspar asked.
“Because Erica is an enchantress. Or a sorcerer. I don’t really know.”
There was a brief moment of hesitation, and then Gaspar said, “I’m coming.”
Chapter Twelve
Gavin looked at Erica and held out the El’aras dagger. The home was dusty and old; long since abandoned. He had not spent much time here ever since chasing Cyran from the city, though perhaps he should have investigated it.
“That’s an interesting blade you carry,” she said.
“It is, isn’t it?”
“I heard there was an El’aras infestation within Yoran.”
“Infestation? I think you might need to be a bit more careful using terms like that. If you know anything about the El’aras, you would know that they would be a little touchy about such an insult.”
“I know more than you can ever imagine about the El’aras.”
Gavin frowned at her. “Do you?” He knew almost nothing about her. He needed to use this time and this opportunity to find out more. There was something more about her than what he had seen so far. He suspected she was not a mere enchantress. If she were, she’d be much more uncomfortable with everything that had gone on. It suggested to him that she truly was a sorcerer, though he had never met a sorcerer quite like her. She had magic and enough skill to heal herself, which suggested immense talent.
“What do you want with this girl?” he asked.
“It’s not what I want with her. It’s what someone else wants.”
“The Maker of Chains.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Why?”
Gavin had so far chosen not to reveal that the girl had magical ability. He didn’t want to release that information quite yet. That had to be held back until Erica proved she knew something. She might already know the girl was magically gifted.
“Who do you think she is?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter who I think she is. It matters who your Maker of Chains thinks she is.”
“As you can already tell, he feels that she is somebody important. By providing her to him, you will have done a great service. Would you not want to do a great service on behalf of the Maker of Chains?”
Gavin leaned back against the wall. “Should I want to?”
“Yes. You should very much want to.”
“I’m done working for mysterious employers,” he said. “And sorcerers.”
“We had a deal. I might not be who you thought me to be, but you agreed to the terms.”
“I agreed to the terms when you were a mother looking for a missing son. And if you heard anything about the El’aras infestation, as you call it, then you would know that there was a sorcerer acting within Yoran at the same time.” He watched her face, and she showed no expression. “You are in his chamber.”
“This is the lair of an active sorcerer?”
He shook his head. “Not any longer.”
“Interesting,” she said softly, some of the edge in her tone shifting.
“I defeated him. He’s gone from Yoran.”
“I’m well aware that there are no sorcerers currently active here.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” she said.
He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “With all of your potential and all of your talent, you still don’t know?”
Gavin stared at her. “Consider me uninformed.”
“It’s more than just being uninformed. I would say you’re ignorant.”
“Careful. This ignorant person was the one who managed to incapacitate you.”
“Even the dumbest can get
