The Stone Wolf (The Chain Breaker Book 4), D.K. Holmberg [psychology books to read txt] 📗

As if a dozen lanterns had suddenly been lit, the darkness faded, and everything in the room became clear. Including the body lying on the floor in the center of the room.

Gavin darted over to Desarra, her dark hair splayed out around her. He touched his finger to her neck and let out a relieved sigh when he felt a pulse.

He slipped his arms underneath her and carried her to the plush sofa that was angled toward the hearth. She moaned softly but didn’t awaken.

She needed help. She needed healing.

Worse, he now worried that Olivia might have gotten involved in this as well.

Gavin tapped on the enchantment, hoping that Gaspar would have it on instead of leaving it inactive. “Gaspar, if you’re listening, Desarra needs your help. And a healer.”

There was a moment of nothing, and then a slight crackle.

“I’m coming.”

Chapter Nine

Gavin searched the home for any signs of Olivia, but he didn’t expect to find anything. He figured that, given what he had seen and how Desarra had been incapacitated, there would be nothing else here.

Gavin found only a few enchantments in various states of creation, the carvings along the enchantments incredibly skilled. They were certainly nothing that would make him believe that Olivia was still here.

After surveying the home, he returned to the living room just as the front door opened and Gaspar hurried in.

“Are you here, boy?” Gaspar hissed.

“I’m here.” Gavin realized that he’d still been wearing the enchanted ring that gave him enhanced eyesight. He made his way to a table, lit a lantern, then slipped the ring off his finger.

Gaspar blinked a moment before darting over to the sofa where Gavin had set Desarra down. He stroked the side of her head, tracing his fingers through her hair. “What happened?” he asked without looking up.

“I got here and found her lying on the floor.”

“She doesn’t look injured.”

Gavin had taken a chance to run his hands along her, looking for any sign of injury. That wasn’t his skill set. He knew how to assess for minor injuries and could bandage certain wounds, but anything more than that required a healing touch that he didn’t have—especially because the types of things he’d done for Tristan involved harming, not healing.

“She has a pulse. She’s breathing.”

Gaspar turned to the door, and Gavin glanced over to see Imogen standing there. She had on a black cloak, the hood of it pulled up and concealing most of her face, and her hand rested on the hilt of her slender sword.

“I sent for a healer,” Gaspar said.

“I’m sure we can get one of the enchanters to help,” Gavin said.

“Maybe.” Gaspar continued to stroke Desarra’s hair. “But I don’t know if we need an enchantment or if we need something more here.” He settled himself down on his knees and used his free hand to hold one of hers. “We’re going to get you the help you need,” he murmured to her.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said. “About all of this.”

“You think this is your fault?”

“If Tristan is involved, then it is.”

Gaspar opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but clenched it back down and shook his head. “As long as we figure out what he is after, none of that matters.”

“He’s after me and the egg. Power. Who knows what else?”

Gaspar turned his attention back to Desarra. Gavin waited for a moment, then slipped through the door, back out into the night.

That was what this was about, after all. Tristan was after him, not anyone else. They had been used against him. Wrenlow. Olivia. And now Desarra was injured. The longer he stayed in all of this—the longer he remained in the city—the more likely it was that other people would be used against him.

He touched the dark egg again before tracing his thumb over the piece of paper folded up in his pocket. That was what he had to do—go to Nelar, face Tristan, and get Wrenlow back.

But not quite yet.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was some reason that Tristan had gone after Wrenlow. Doing so forced Gavin out of the city, and he couldn’t help thinking that was exactly what Tristan wanted. In leaving Yoran, Gavin would be abandoning it—and whatever Tristan was after.

If it was the dark egg, then Gavin would secure it before leaving. He didn’t dare bring it with him. If something happened to him while he was gone, he couldn’t stand the idea that he would be responsible for someone else acquiring it and potentially releasing that dangerous magic upon the world.

But if there was some other reason…

Tristan had known about the sorcerers’ lairs. That thought kept coming back to Gavin. This wasn’t about enchantments. There were some of those in the lairs, but there was something more too. Maybe whatever it was had been tied to understanding how the dark egg worked, but was that all it was? There had been the dead sorcerer, but Tristan wouldn’t have needed proof that the dark egg worked.

Which suggested to Gavin that there was something else here. And maybe not even in the lairs. It could simply be within the city.

Yoran was important. It had to be, considering all the magic that Gavin had encountered in his time here. There was too much power that had flared through here for it to just be a coincidence.

And until he had Wrenlow back, Gavin wasn’t sure he would be able to figure out that reason.

He made his way through the city and entered the tunnels to one of the old sorcerers’ lairs, watching for any signs of glowing in his El’aras dagger as he went. He needed rest, and then it would be time for him to go.

Before anybody else got hurt.

He reached the connecting corridor that brought him to the cavern beneath Cyran’s home. As soon as he opened the door, he glanced behind him, worried about what he might uncover. But there was no movement in the shadows, nothing to suggest