“That would be Char.”
Gavin frowned. “His name is Char?”
She took a step toward him. Power surged, tight and painful along Gavin’s skin.
He held his hands up. “Listen. I didn’t do anything to him. Well, maybe I threatened him a little, but then I did pay him.”
She cocked her head to the side, and she tapped something on her fingers. An enchantment. The smoke pressed upon her, and the dark-haired woman pressed the Toral back. They shared a look that almost made Gavin smile. It was one of warning to the Toral. And it seemed to work.
She let out a soft sigh and turned her attention back to Gavin. “Char sent word I was to find you. He told me what you did. And what you were after.”
She’d come looking for him.
No, not him. For the ones Gavin had gone after. His friends.
Gavin looked over to Wrenlow. The fighting in the wagons. The sounds Wrenlow had heard. The fact that there been nobody there after he’d broken out. All of that seemed to fit together.
“You incapacitated his attackers,” Gavin said.
“I wanted to find these people you spoke of,” she said.
“Because you thought I’d be willing to trade for them?”
“I knew you’d come for them.”
She’d been waiting for him.
She had helped Wrenlow. Gavin had seen that. And there was what her friend had said—and felt—about her.
This wasn’t a violent sorceress.
She was powerful, but not evil.
And maybe she hadn’t been used by Tristan the way he’d come to think.
She still wants the dark egg.
Or the t’ranth. Whatever that happened to be.
He touched his sword.
It couldn’t be that. She would have tried to take it from him during their first confrontation. Or their second. Even the third, when he’d been unable to do anything against her power.
“We’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here. I think maybe the two of us can help each other.”
The other woman behind her continued to send the smoke swirling around her. It was an impressive use of power, and it was something so different than what Gavin had seen before. He’d never seen smoke magic like this.
“Your friend can come forward as well,” Gavin said.
The sorceress glanced behind her, whispered something, and the raven-haired woman stepped toward them. She was dressed all in white. Gavin had a sense of heat coming off her, something he couldn’t quite place, but it was an impressive energy. She kept her eyes on the ground, though the power around her suggested a significant energy.
“What kind of magic do you have?” he asked.
“She’s not going to tell you,” the Toral said.
“Then what about you? You’re a sorcerer and a Toral, but I’m not quite sure who has gifted you their power.”
That seemed to matter. It was something Anna had said, some aspect of serving as a Toral that seemed to make a difference. Gavin needed those answers.
“Where is the t’ranth? I know it’s in the city. I feel it.” She frowned. “Not as well as I did at first, though.”
It had to be the dark egg. “Before we go into that, who told you I have it?”
“Ceran.”
It sounded so much like Cyran that Gavin doubted it was a coincidence.
Could she be working for him?
“I think the two of us need to talk,” he said.
Gavin looked along the street, and he continued to hold power through him, but he didn’t want to keep doing that. If they were to attack, he didn’t want to be trapped here, forced to keep summoning his magic. He had more of the sh’rasn powder and could use that to strengthen him, but that was a last resort.
She regarded him for a long moment before finally nodding. “Where do you suggest?”
She already knew how to find him. She’d already defeated him once. And he had a feeling she was withholding attacking him now.
It was a gamble. All of this was risky, and until he understood what she was doing, what she was after, and why she was working with Cyran, he needed to play this out.
“I know a place,” he said.
As he started off, Wrenlow grabbed his arm and forced Gavin to look at him. “Are you sure that’s a good decision?”
“No,” Gavin said.
“Just so long as we’re on the same page. I am not sure Jessica is going to care much for that.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“You could take her to the constables,” Wrenlow suggested.
Gavin considered it. That was not a terrible idea. Davel Chan, at least, had enough experience working with magic and enchantments that he and the constables might be able to help if she attacked again, but he’d be putting them in significant danger. But at the Dragon, there were only a few people there, and they had already faced these two before.
Gavin shook his head. “If it comes down to that, we will, but for now…”
Wrenlow nodded. They walked through the streets, and Gavin made a point of keeping his eye on both the Toral and the smoke woman until they reached the Dragon. At the door, the smoke woman ran her finger along the dragon etching on the door.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“It’s a tavern. Called the Roasted Dragon,” Wrenlow offered.
She looked back, and a bit of smoke swirled from her hand, tracing into the door. Gavin felt uneasy. The kind of power she had, the magic he detected from her, was unlike anything he’d ever seen before. At least with the Toral, Gavin had faced her before and had come away alive. In the case of this woman, he had no idea whether he would be able to face her and survive it. She was obviously powerful.
“What do you think, Eva?” the Toral asked.
So I have one name at least.
“This is not protected,” Eva said.
The Toral relaxed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.
Eva ran her hand through her dark hair. Something metallic pierced her palm. It looked like an enchantment, but blood surrounded it. Smoke trailed from the blood, then swept outward, circling around her—and
