Page 10

nine

Griff

Griff tried to suppress his annoyance as he strode out the front of the Sanjarkan National Treasury.

Nathaniel’s healing poultice had worked wonders, and after a good night’s rest—albeit in a known criminal’s secret hideout—he’d been ready and eager to follow up on the new lead they’d acquired from Bald Locke.

The sooner he got to the bottom of this business with the void orb and returned to his usual duties, the better.

Especially given the company he was currently forced to keep.

“So, how did ‘doing things by the book’ go for you?” Cal asked, flashing a smug smile as Griff slipped into a nearby alley.

The thief lounged against the wall, wearing yet another face and body.

This one was a middle-aged woman dressed in merchant robes.

He hadn’t bothered to alter his voice just now, and the effect was disconcerting.

Griff suppressed a grimace.

“The Treasury have a policy against sharing private account information, even to members of the Watch. Something about concerns over compromising a merchant’s business. I’d need an official writ from a magister to supersede that.”

“Of course you would.” Cal sounded a touch too pleased about that fact.

“Which you can’t do since you’re trying to keep this investigation under wraps. I told you we should’ve done things my way.”

This time, Griff couldn’t hold back his sigh.

Despite Cal’s odd behavior last night, he’d eventually brought back food as promised.

And since then, he seemed to have returned to his usual irascible self.

Griff would’ve much preferred working this case with another inspector.

Still, he supposed he owed Cal at least some credit for sticking around as long as he had.

It was more than he’d have expected from a thief, especially when Griff had been in such a vulnerable state yesterday.

“It’s always worth the effort to obey the law,” Griff said.

“It’s what keeps society functioning.”

Cal gave a derisive snort.

“Maybe for people like you.” He crossed his arms and raised a brow in challenge.

“Does that mean we’re calling this done, then? If so, it’s been nice working with you, Inspector.”

Griff briefly considered slapping the pacifier cuff back on Cal’s wrist. Maybe that would keep him in line better.

Trust be told, he probably should’ve done that anyway before they left that morning, just to be safe.

But after everything they’d been through, it had felt wrong.

Sure, and your reluctance has nothing at all to do with the brightness of his aura…

or his crooked grin.

Ignoring the unwelcome thought, Griff forced himself to play nice.

“I said it was worth trying to obey the law.” Memory of the void orb’s foul magic elicited a grimace.

“But in this case, I suppose we can make an exception. Walk me through your plan again.”

Cal smirked.

“It’s simple. I’ll pretend to be a Sanjarkan lord with an account here. That should get us through to the back.”

Griff frowned.

“But won’t they check to make sure your information matches their records? Where do you plan to find an appropriate noble to impersonate?”

An odd expression flitted over Cal’s face, and he waved a hand.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it handled.”

Griff didn’t like that one bit.

He almost removed his glasses to check Cal’s aura before deciding against it.

The thief had had plenty of chances to betray him so far and hadn’t.

Perhaps he’d earned a tiny modicum of trust.

“Fine,” Griff said.

“That gets us into the back. And once we’re inside? How do we find the records we need without the bankers catching on?”

“Easy—one of us buys time for the other to figure out who Bald Locke’s mysterious benefactor is.”

“How do we distract them?”

Cal shrugged, rolling his eyes.

“Surely, you’ve heard of improvising before, Inspector. Or is that a bit too close to lying for your tastes?”

Griff ignored the jab.

Cal’s plan was fairly basic, but he supposed that was good given how little time they’d taken to prepare.

Usually, he’d have spent a week, maybe longer, prepping for an operation like this.

But he couldn’t afford that luxury—not when his every instinct screamed at him that the void orb was part of some deeper conspiracy.

“What about the wards?” he asked.

They’d taken some time earlier that morning to scout the bank out.

Griff had scanned the front antechamber with his aura-sight while Cal swapped between various throwaway disguises to case the joint.

While Cal had declared the security disappointingly lax—a small squad of protectors stationed by the door the only threat—Griff had detected a set of runeflame wards infused near the door leading to the back.

While he hadn’t been able to tell exactly what they did, it was a safe bet they were designed to defend the vaults from magical intrusions precisely like Cal’s duskflame disguise.

Cal flashed Griff a broad grin and shoved off the wall, striding toward the mouth of the alley.

Shadowy duskflame flickered across his skin, leaving rippling flesh in its wake.

By the time he’d reached Griff, he looked like the average clerk, complete with a mousy face and wired spectacles.

“Leave the wards to me,” Cal said in a high, nasally voice.

“I just need you to keep the protties distracted long enough for me to do my thing. Give me a couple minutes to get into position. Then, follow me inside.”

Griff nodded, but Cal was already whistling as he strolled out of the alley and headed across the courtyard toward the steps leading up to the Treasury’s arched entrance.

Griff stared after him until he was certain Cal had made it inside safely, then took a few steadying breaths to calm his pulse.

He was probably just nervous about the mission.

Breaking into a bank was decidedly outside his usual wheelhouse.

But desperate times, and all that.

Or maybe it’s a certain thief that has you so flustered.

That was a dangerous thought—one he couldn’t afford to dwell on too deeply right now.

Deciding that enough time had passed, he strode toward the Treasury.

He kept his face carefully blank, his steps purposeful: a protector on a mission.

The Treasury building presented an imposing sight.

Wooden columns carved to resemble winged Celestials watched over the entrance while more columns in the shape of various sea creatures lined the antechamber.

Enormous silken tapestries in shades of blue and green hung along the walls.

Engraved seashells coated the floor, leading to a row of arched teller windows along the far wall.

A pair of double doors sat beside them, leading into back offices and the Treasury’s vaults.

Griff gave the grand room no more than a cursory glance before removing his aura blockers and striding purposefully toward the nearest protector.

Cal should already be there somewhere near the doors, where Griff had detected the wards earlier.

As he caught the protector’s eye, he flashed his badge.

“Excuse me, can I have your attention?”

The protector eyed him, as did several of his nearby compatriots.

Most, however, ignored him, their drooping auras signifying boredom.

It looked like he’d need to be a little more forceful if he wanted to hold their attention.

“That means all of you!” he barked, raising his voice to a near bellow.

More eyes turned to glare at him, and he caught a few flickers of angry red amid their auras.

Better that than apathy if it meant them focusing on him.

“Thank you,” he continued.

“I have reason to believe that a dangerous criminal may be hiding in this area. Your cooperation in apprehending them would be most appreciated.”

The protector nearest Griff gave him an unimpressed look.

“Sounds like your problem, not ours, Inspector. We have our own duties here to attend to.”

Griff swept a pointed look over the antechamber.

At this time in the morning, there were barely any other patrons—hardly enough to conjure more than a faint pressure behind his eyes from their overlapping auras.

“Seems to me like your duties would survive without you for a few minutes. If you’d all gather up near me, I can give you the criminal’s description so you can help me scout the area.”

Another of the protectors narrowed their eyes.

“You’re that hot-shot inspector, aren’t you? The one that made all the papers?”

There were some grumbles from the other protectors at that.

Far from being impressed, that seemed to make them even more sullen, their auras darkening like ash.

Griff muffled a sigh.

Great. It figured that the protectors assigned to this sort of rote guard duty wouldn’t exactly be the cream of the crop.

Still, at least if they were glaring at him, they weren’t paying attention to what the other patrons—Cal included—were up to.

He was searching for what to say next when a familiar voice called out, “Inspector Denton! What a pleasant surprise.”

Griff whirled, his eyes widening a fraction when he spotted High Commander Pern emerging from the doors to the back.

He wore a crisp uniform laden with medals, his electro-baton strapped to his waist. His aura was mostly a fierce orange, its barbed shape suitable for someone used to fighting.

Sasha followed at his side, his own aura a touch drearier and more restrained.

“High Commander,” Griff said, startled.

“What are you doing here?” Muffling a wince at his careless words, he snapped a belated salute.

“Forgive me, sir. That is none of my business.”

The High Commander chuckled, coming to a stop before him.

Sasha hovered a few paces back.

He flashed Griff an encouraging smile that gave him some heart.

“It’s fine, Inspector,” the High Commander said.

“Just attending to some Pentarchy business. Believe me, I’d much rather be back in my office.” His smile faded as he swept his gaze over the gathered protectors.

“Did I hear you issuing orders to these protectors?”

Griff’s stomach roiled.

Merciful Light, he hadn’t intended to involve the High Commander of all people in this mess.

What would he think if he knew what Griff was about to attempt…

and with who?

Still, he saw no other option but to stick to his story.

“That’s right, sir. I have reason to believe a fugitive may be hiding nearby. I was trying to procure their assistance scouting the area outside for anything suspicious.”

High Commander Pern nodded.

Then, he turned toward the protectors, his voice crisp.

“Well? You heard the inspector. I suggest you listen up!”

That finally snapped the protectors to begrudging attention.

Beneath the High Commander’s watchful eye, Griff related the fake details he’d prepared ahead of time.

When he was finished, the protectors flashed High Commander Pern hasty salutes and hurried past. They funneled out the door until only Griff, the High Commander, and Sasha remained.

“Sorry about that, Inspector,” High Commander Pern said.

“I’ll make sure to speak with their captain to ensure that kind of thing doesn’t happen again.”

“Thank you, sir,” Griff said, bowing his head.

He expected the High Commander to depart.

His nerves flared when he lingered instead, dropping his voice.

“Any news yet on the Siren’s Call case? As you can imagine, I’m under significant pressure to catch this… Blackjack.” High Commander Pern grimaced as he said the name, like he’d tasted something sour, and his aura throbbed.

Griff shook his head even as guilt soured his stomach.

Merciful Light, he hated lying to his superior officer like this.

But it wasn’t like he could turn Cal over.

“Not yet, sir. I’ll let you know as soon as I uncover anything.”

High Commander Pern nodded.

“Good. Keep up the good work, Inspector. I sense great things in your future.”

With that, he finally turned to leave.

Sasha trailed after him, flashing Griff another friendly smile and salute as he passed.

Griff returned it, puffing out a relieved breath.

Thank the Light . Carrying out a bank heist had seemed like a poor enough plan when it was a room full of protectors they had to contend with, let alone the leader of the entire Watch.

Once he was certain the High Commander was gone, he allowed his gaze to sweep over the room in search of Cal.

A hint of worry trickled through him when he saw no one over by the wards, nor anyone he recognized as Cal’s last disguise.

Had Cal run into some problem or had to swap disguises?

Another thought gnawed at the back of his mind, persistent despite his attempts to dismiss it: what if Cal had taken this chance to run and leave him high and dry?

“Ah, Inspector! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. The Goddess herself must smile upon us!”

Muffling a groan, Griff turned to see Lord Heneford ambling over.

The elderly noble was dressed in the same embroidered finery he’d worn to the theater two nights ago and had the same affable grin.

Griff tried to keep the impatience out of his tone as he inclined his head.

“Lord Heneford. I’m afraid I’m rather preoccupied at the moment with—”

He trailed off, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the noble’s all-too-familiar aura.

Lord Heneford’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in.

Even after recognizing the aura, Griff almost recoiled in shock when Cal’s voice came out of Lord Heneford’s mouth.

“See? I told you I had it handled.”

He threaded an arm through Griff’s and tried to pull him toward the teller windows in the back.

For a moment, Griff was too stunned to protest. Of all the nobles Cal might choose to impersonate, he’d picked this one?

“Why pretend to be Lord Heneford? Do you know him?” As Griff’s initial shock faded, the pieces clicked into place.

Yanking his arm free, he glared at Cal.

“Hold on. It was you that night on the balcony talking to me, wasn’t it? Merciful Light, did you rob the vault right under my nose?”

Cal gave a low chuckle.

When he spoke, his voice had reverted back to Heneford’s drawl.

“Oh, I’m not pretending to be Lord Heneford: I am him. And I’d already robbed the vault long before then. I just stuck around to watch the show.”

Griff’s mind reeled as Cal resumed guiding him forward.

Despite the small crowd, only one of the teller windows was open, resulting in a short queue.

Cal took up position at the back of the line.

He shot Griff a wink.

“By the way, thanks for that tip about the wards. Knowing their precise configuration and location made them much easier to disable. We make a good team.”

Griff huffed at that.

Secretly, though, he had to admit there was some truth to that.

He’d certainly had worse partners than Cal during his years in the Watch.

As they awaited their turn, Griff found himself sneaking furtive glances at Cal.

Even with the Heneford disguise, there were still glimpses of the real Cal beneath in his manner…

and the brightness of his aura.

It was hard to believe that such a prominent figure was really Cal in disguise.

How many more such identities had he accumulated over the years?

“You know, if you can build a fake identity like this, it means you could find the same success as yourself,” Griff said.

“You could be a real merchant or lord instead of playing one for pretend.”

Cal didn’t break character, though Griff caught the slight stiffening of his shoulders to match the new tightness in his aura.

“Perhaps. But why in the Void would I do that when this is so much more fun?”

Despite his teasing tone, his aura gave him away.

Griff didn’t call him on it.

It wasn’t really any of his business.

Besides, they had more pressing matters to focus on right now.

They reached the front of the queue, and their hands brushed as they stepped forward.

The brief contact sent a tingle rippling up Griff’s arm.

He subtly shifted away as Cal beamed at the attendant.

“Hello, my dear. I’m here to check on the status of my holdings.”

“Of course, sir. May I have your full name and account number?”

While Cal rattled both off, Griff let his gaze wander over the room, searching for any troubling auras.

But the protectors had yet to return, and none of the other patrons seemed to be paying them any mind.

So long as Cal had disabled the wards, they should be in good shape.

Once the teller had verified Cal’s information, she called for another attendant to take them into a private office.

Griff held his breath as they approached the warded double doors.

He puffed it out once they passed into the back without Cal’s enchantment fading.

Step one of their plan had gone off without a hitch.

While Griff would never have admitted it to Cal, he couldn’t deny that he felt a hint of the same thrill Cal must at a successful job done.

He’d take good old-fashioned police work any day.

Still, he could see how this feeling of defying the odds might become intoxicating.

Especially to someone born with few other opportunities.

By the Light, am I really trying to justify grand theft right now?

He must be s pending too much time around Cal if he was beginning to view that sort of criminal behavior as understandable.

He wasn’t supposed to enjoy breaking into the Treasury, even if it was for a good cause.

The sooner they tracked down that account information and figured out who was behind all this, the better.