The sorcerer didn’t lift the pouch. “If you believe so.”
Gavin tapped the table. “If you find your Toral friend, I would like to speak with her. That’s all. I just want to have a conversation so I can find out what she knows about the man she’s working for.”
The sorcerer frowned for a moment but then nodded. “I told you that I will see what I can do. As long as you leave and stay out of the city.”
“I don’t intend to return for a while.” Gavin chuckled. “And if I do, I can assure you that you won’t see me.”
He headed down the hall and greeted Gaspar as he came out of the room, walking slowly but moving more quickly the longer he was on his feet. Imogen stayed at his side, one hand on the hilt of her sword and her gaze flicking all around her, as if she expected one of the sorcerers to jump out at them at any moment.
It was enough to make Gavin smile, but he knew better than to grin at her. She was too dangerous.
They reached the desk with the sorcerer again, who had gotten to his feet and held the pouch open in front of him. “This is too much. I thought you said you weren’t going to pay the flat fee and the daily rate and the—”
“I paid you what I think your services were worth. And if, for whatever reason, you decide you can share what I asked with your Toral friend, then so be it.”
Gavin had no idea whether the man would do that, but since he had threatened the sorcerer, he figured he should at least leave on better terms. What did it matter if he offered a few more coins than what the services should have cost? Gaspar lived, after all.
“I don’t need your bribe,” the sorcerer said. He hefted the pouch and tossed it back at Gavin.
Gavin caught it in midair, then slammed it back down on the table. “It wasn’t a bribe. It was payment for services rendered. You saved my friend, and that has value. Now, if you decide you want to do something to save my other friends, tell your Toral friend to find me. She’ll know how.”
Gavin turned his back on the man, guiding Gaspar out of the outpost and into the street. The sun was starting to set, which made it a terrible time for them to leave, but he understood Gaspar’s desire to get out of the city.
“Do you really think it’s wise for you to anger a sorcerer?” Gaspar said. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough trouble with sorcerers in the past?”
“This one helped you,” Gavin replied.
“He did, but was it because he had no choice?” Imogen muttered.
“Partly,” Gavin said. “But I’m not going to feel bad about that either. He helped. That’s all that matters.”
They carefully made their way to the edge of the city, slower than Gavin would’ve preferred, but he had to give Gaspar the chance to walk on his own. There was a part of him that was tempted to tease him, but he knew better than to do that. Especially given everything that had happened so far and how Gaspar wouldn’t take the teasing all that well. When they neared the outskirts, the stone creatures came toward them, as if they had been summoned.
Gavin looked over at Gaspar. “Are you ready for your ride back?”
The old thief shook his head. “I would rather do anything else.” He glanced over at Imogen, who fixed him with a glare. “But it seems I’m being told we need to return.”
“We do,” she said.
“Fine,” Gaspar said. “And if I bleed internally while we’re jostled by these damn stone wolves, then it’s on you.”
“You won’t bleed,” Imogen said. “Unless I shove my sword in your back.”
Gaspar chuckled as he climbed onto the wolf. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Try me.”
They headed off, the stone creatures racing with the strange gait they had. As they hurried across the ground, following the road stretched between Nelar and Yoran, Gavin tried to settle onto the creature’s back and get as comfortable as he could. There wasn’t any way for him to really relax at this point, though.
He looked over to see Gaspar clutching his stone wolf, arms wrapped around it and legs strapped on either side. He had his jaw clenched and his face worked in concentration. The intensity in his eyes told Gavin all he needed to know about how hard this was on him and just how much he struggled.
Gavin had to be cautious with him and get Gaspar back as quickly as they could. They stopped to camp, no one speaking much, other than Gaspar and Imogen sitting off to the side of the campfire, murmuring to each other. Gavin glanced over, and there was a part of him that wished they would include him in their conversation, but he understood their reluctance to do so.
They awoke early. Gaspar was moving less gingerly, and they climbed atop their stone golems and began the rest of their journey back to Yoran.
It was late by the time they reached the outskirts of the city. Yoran was mostly dark, though there were enough flickering lights in some windows for Gavin to see by. He had been tempted to reach for his enchantment to augment his eyesight a half a dozen times along the road but had refused to do it.
He followed the others into the city, and when they reached the Dragon, Gaspar climbed down from his wolf. Imogen did as well.
“Are you coming in?” Gaspar asked.
Gavin looked at the tavern entrance. “Not yet. I need to make my own preparations.”
“For what?”
“For whatever might come. This isn’t over, and until I understand what it’s about, I don’t know what we need to do.”
And maybe there was nothing he needed to do. Maybe this was only about figuring out whatever the Toral was after, providing it to her, and getting Wrenlow and
