“I see.”
“I’ve been growing complacent,” Gavin said.
The fight the night before had made that abundantly clear. He hadn’t drawn upon the skills he knew he had, and there was only so much he could do practicing with Wrenlow or fighting against common street thugs. What he needed was somebody who would pose a real challenge.
He needed to be prepared for Tristan. Which was why he needed Davel.
Davel had proven he was skilled and knew various fighting styles, but Gavin also needed Davel’s willingness to use enchantments so Gavin could test himself.
“I might be convinced to do that,” Davel said. “When would you like to do it?”
Gavin looked over, and the other fighters had stopped to talk to each other. “Why not now?”
Davel chuckled. “Very well. I warn you, I won’t go easy on you.”
“No one ever has.”
Chapter Six
Gavin groaned as he stretched his muscles. He had sparred with Davel Chan for several hours, longer than he’d expected Davel’s interest to hold. It had been useful for Gavin, but he had no idea whether Davel felt the same.
Still, Gavin had been pleasantly surprised by Davel’s talent. He had used enchantments, but not nearly as many as Gavin thought he would have. It’d given Gavin the first real sparring session he’d had in quite some time. And now he was tired.
He hadn’t used his core reserves during the fight, intentionally avoiding doing so. Even when Davel had struck him the first time and pain bloomed in his arm where he’d punched, Gavin had avoided doing it.
He wanted to be challenged the way Tristan would have challenged him, and he wanted to make sure he could withstand that kind of violence, to be ready the next time he faced Tristan. It was the entire reason he’d come to the constables’ barracks.
Gavin remained convinced that all of this was some sort of test. Davel’s explanations about what had been going on within the city, the other incursions that had attempted to press magic on Yoran, had done nothing more than reinforce that belief. And if that was the purpose behind it, Gavin had to question what more they might find.
What other tests did Tristan have in mind?
Any others that Tristan might attempt would likely be magical, but perhaps it was a mistake to think that way. As far as Gavin knew, any tests Tristan tried might not be magical but simply tied to the kind of power Gavin possessed.
He followed through the streets, sweeping his gaze along the buildings. He tapped on his enchantment. “Wrenlow, if you’re there, I’d like to visit with you.”
He waited a moment, but there was no answer. He passed a pair of men who glanced in his direction, and Gavin flashed a smile at them, making them turn quickly and head away from him.
The city felt different today. That might only be his imagination, but perhaps there was an urgency to it that had not been there before.
Could others have detected the magical intrusion?
He had little doubt that the people were attuned to it, at least in some ways. They had dealt with magic over the years, and many would likely do anything to ensure that they didn’t have to face it again.
A small child scurried past him, chased by three others. They shouted before blending into the crowd in front of him.
Gavin paused. What would happen if he couldn’t protect Yoran the way he intended? He had to push those thoughts away.
Wrenlow still wasn’t available. Gavin had expected that when he’d finished sparring with Davel, he would hear from Wrenlow, mostly because he anticipated that Wrenlow would want to find him again.
Gaspar hadn’t dropped onto the enchantment either. That wasn’t altogether surprising, though. Gaspar rarely chimed in unless he was on a job with Gavin, which didn’t happen these days.
A test.
Gavin couldn’t get past that feeling.
He slipped along the street and found the forest stretching out in front of him. Gavin didn’t go into the towering trees often these days, though not out of fear. It was more because he suspected that doing so would separate him from the city more than he wanted, as if going into the trees would create a division he needed to avoid.
Gavin made his way forward and slowed when he caught sight of Cyran’s house. It had been a sorcerer’s residence even before Cyran had taken it over. Gavin paused on the far side of the street from the house, sweeping his gaze along. In the distance, a pair of constables patrolled. He nodded to them, though neither seemed to notice him.
Gavin walked up to the door and paused. Each time he came here, he tested for any sort of magic he might detect. He still didn’t have a full grasp of his understanding of magic, only that the longer he worked with his core reserves, the more he became attuned to the magic he had, along with the magic that existed around him in the city. That had to matter.
He didn’t feel anything this time, but it didn’t stop him from hesitating.
Tristan had come here.
Not only that, but he increasingly felt that Tristan had been the one to send Cyran.
There was too much that seemed to overlap, and though Gavin wasn’t entirely sure why Tristan had been interested in Yoran—at least, not before he managed to unearth the dark egg—he still felt as if he needed to know.
Cyran had come here for something. Maybe it was only for the sorcerers’ lairs, but there could’ve been something more.
Gavin waited for a moment, then another, to see if anything would reveal itself, wondering if Tristan had brought another attacker here.
No other tests.
Some part of him was a little disappointed that there was nothing, though he knew he shouldn’t be. He stepped inside.
“What are you after?” Gavin whispered. He stood in the middle of the room. Everything in Cyran’s home had been picked over, and nothing
