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fourteen

Cal

It was after dark by the time Cal finally followed Griff out of the gala.

They’d remained late, well past when the other guests had begun to depart.

But Griff had wanted as much time as possible to mingle with the members of the Pentarchy, as well as to observe them from afar, taking notes on everything from their demeanors to who they spoke with throughout the event.

Cal had met them all before, at least in passing, and tonight had done little to change his initial disdain.

The High Chancellor might be the worst of the lot, but even those like the High Scholar or High Judge who professed to serve the public good above all else reeked of selfish arrogance behind their self-righteous veneers.

If they were so desperate to do good, why did they turn a blind eye to orphans like him growing up abandoned on the streets while they hosted lavish parties for the Sanjarkan elite?

Sanjarka might pretend to be a free republic, and it certainly had its benefits over places like Nalax or Khordan.

But true equality remained a distant dream.

Hence why he rarely felt a lick of guilt robbing people like those in attendance tonight for all they were worth.

As they threaded their way out of the crowd, Cal glimpsed something from the corner of his eye that tickled the back of his mind.

But when he turned for a closer look, whoever it was had vanished.

He frowned to himself.

What was it that had drawn his attention?

Something about how they’d carried themself?

His first thought was that it was Kelsith spying on him.

The thief had made no secret of tailing Cal around the city.

But would he really be so bold as to infiltrate a private gala hosted by the Pentarchy?

Unlike Cal, he couldn’t alter his appearance at will.

He shook his head as they exited into the night air, blessedly cool compared to the warmth from so many bodies packed inside the ballroom.

More likely, it was just a trick of his imagination.

After a night full of schmoozing and careful observation, his brain was ready for a break.

Griff was a solid, comforting presence beside him.

Some crazy part of him longed to reach out and snag the inspector’s arm, though of course that would be ridiculous.

And not just because he still wore his Lord Heneford disguise.

Last night had been a mistake.

It was one thing to flirt with the inspector and admire him from afar.

But now Cal couldn’t get him off his mind.

Despite his best efforts to act normal, all he’d been able to think about all day was how much he wanted to do it again.

Leaning in a bit closer to Griff than strictly necessary, he said in a low voice, “So, any guesses who our culprit might be?”

Griff stiffened.

“Not here. Wait until we’re home.” He cast a furtive gaze about them, even though Cal had already checked to make sure no one was within earshot.

Annoyance flared in Cal.

Griff had been irritable and jumpy all night—all day, really.

When he’d come upon Cal speaking with the High Scholar, he’d looked about ready to tear Cal a new one.

At first, Cal had assumed Griff was just nervous about confronting the Pentarchy.

Now, though? He was beginning to suspect the problem might run deeper.

Maybe I’m not the only one who regrets last night…

“What is with you?” Cal asked.

“You’ve been acting weird all night.”

“It’s nothing,” Griff said.

“I’m just tired.”

Cal narrowed his eyes.

“I may not be able to read auras, but I can tell when I’m being lied to. Something’s wrong. Just tell me.”

Griff sighed, his jaw tightening.

“I told you at the start of the night to stick close. You shouldn’t have gone to speak with the High Scholar without telling me.”

“Why not? You ran off after the High Merchant and High Commander! Shadow and shade, don’t you trust me not to mess anything up for five minutes on my own?”

When Griff hesitated a beat too long, realization struck.

Cal shuffled a few paces from Griff and slowed, staring at the inspector.

Hurt squeezed his chest. “That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t trust me.”

“What?” Griff slowed as well, turning to him with what looked like genuine surprise.

“Of course I trust you. That wasn’t the problem.”

“Oh?” Cal cocked a brow.

“Then what was? Because right now, it feels like you wanted to keep me on a tight leash. Regretting taking that cuff of me, Inspector?”

Griff winced at that, but Cal was too angry to feel guilty.

He’d thought they were past this by now.

Cal could’ve walked away at any time.

If Griff didn’t want him here, he’d gladly do so.

Surprise gripped him when Griff shook his head.

“It’s precisely the opposite. I was worried something might’ve happened to you. This is a dangerous case, and after last night, I…I realized how much I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The raw confession in Griff’s voice hit Cal like a blow to the chest. Neither of them spoke as they resumed walking back toward Griff’s apartment.

Cal’s thoughts returned to the previous night, and for a single fleeting moment, he allowed himself to imagine more.

More shared nights, more heated kisses.

A life full of more than the empty challenge that had been his sole purpose for far too long.

But of course, it was only a dream.

Last night might’ve been incredible, but they didn’t belong together—they couldn’t.

Griff was an inspector, dedicated to helping others.

And Cal was a thief who stole things.

There would never be any more .

By the time they emerged into Griff’s cozy apartment, Cal had resolved to reclaim the easy banter they’d had before.

Best if they kept things light moving forward.

It was safer that way.

“There, we’re back,” he said, collapsing into a chair at the table with a contented sigh.

“Now can we talk about the case?”

Griff settled in across from him.

“Unfortunately, my aura-sight wasn’t able to offer much insight. Our questions were too indirect. Still, I can’t help but wonder whether the situation with Nalax might be related.”

Cal lightly tapped his fingertips against the thief’s mark on his chest as he considered.

“What does any of that have to do with the void orb?”

“I’m not sure. But it seemed to be the subject on everyone’s minds, and the timing seems too coincidental to ignore. Perhaps one of the Pentarchy is collaborating with Nalax to use the void orb in some sort of attack.”

“Or seeking to stoke tensions further,” Cal noted.

“The Pentarchy definitely seem the sort to try to twist any situation to their advantage.”

Griff frowned at that, but he offered a reluctant nod.

“While we still don’t have a clear motive, if this really is about Nalax, the High Commander and High Merchant seem the most likely suspects. They’ve been at odds on the issue for quite some time and are the most passionate about the outcome.”

Cal grunted his agreement.

“Personally, my gallants are on the High Merchant. He stands to profit the most from more open trade with Nalax. If anyone’s a Nalaxian agent, it’s him.”

Griff nodded.

“Never trust a man only in it for the coin.”

Cal stiffened, a stab of hurt lancing through him.

That one struck a little too close to home.

Despite the lump lodged in his throat, he forced a smile.

“Right.”

Griff glanced at him, and only then seemed to register what he’d said.

His eyes widened. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” Cal said.

He waved his hand with a shrug.

“If anyone would know, it’s me.”

Griff’s chair squeaked as he rose and stepped toward Cal.

He rested a hand on Cal’s shoulder.

“You’re not like that. I know you aren’t.”

The softness in Griff’s voice mixed with his gentle touch was suddenly too much.

Cal lurched to his feet, shrugging off Griff’s hand in the process.

His chest felt far too tight.

“I need some air,” he said.

Desperately pretending not to notice Griff’s hand reaching for him, he darted outside and away from the apartment, his heart pounding.

Only once he’d put a couple blocks between them and flared duskflame to shift into a throwaway disguise did he finally begin to calm.

Eternal Dark, why hadn’t he walked away when he had the chance?

No matter what Griff claimed, Cal knew he’d never see him as more than a thief.

Not really. And no matter how much Cal acted otherwise, it was too late now to lie and pretend he didn’t care about the inspector.

Even if whatever lay between them was doomed to end in heartbreak.

He knew he should probably suck it up and head back.

They had more findings to discuss, along with the next steps of their investigation to plan.

But he couldn’t bring himself to return and sit beside Griff, knowing there was a distance between them he could never breach.

So instead, he found himself wandering the nighttime streets.

Many people—perhaps most people—would’ve been nervous, darting through darkened alleys and across shadowed rooftops.

But this was when Cal had always felt most at peace.

Alone and unseen, there was no one to judge him or find him lacking.

Or at least, there shouldn’t be.

“Enjoying your midnight stroll?” Cal’s head jerked up to find Kelsith perched atop a narrow wall running alongside his current street.

“I was,” he said, continuing to walk past. “I find the quiet peaceful.”

Kelsith didn’t take the hint.

Jumping nimbly down from the wall, he landed beside Cal and fell into step with him.

“You seem tense. Let me guess—trouble with your inspector?”

Kelsith’s voice contained only mild concern without even a hint of smugness.

Still, Cal’s muscles tightened.

“That’s none of your business.”

Kelsith’s shrug only irritated him more.

“It was bound to happen. Like I told you, the two of you are like oil and water. Sooner or later, I knew he’d turn on you.”

“What do you want, Kelsith? Why are you following me?”

Kelsith gave him a lopsided grin.

“You looked so sad and pathetic, wandering the streets alone. I couldn’t just leave you like that. So, I figured you might appreciate a job. Something to help you remember your roots.”

Cal wasn’t fooled by Kelsith’s seeming nonchalance.

Kelsith had taught him everything he knew…

including how to hide his true intentions behind a smile.

For Kelsith to have found him while disguised like this meant the thief had been tracking him for some time.

Likely, he’d been staking out Griff’s apartment, waiting for a chance to approach.

Still, no matter how suspicious Cal was of Kelsith, he had to admit the prospect of a job right then was Void-cursed appealing.

It might be just the thing he needed to take his mind off of Griff.

He opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated, picturing Griff’s reaction if he found out.

It seemed like a betrayal of his trust to return to thieving.

Then again, Griff had known all along who he was, and Cal had never made him any promises.

He didn’t owe the investigator anything.

Turning to Kelsith, he met his eyes and gave a firm nod.

“All right. I’m in. What’s the mark?”

Kelsith grinned.

“Follow me.”

With a faint trickle of trepidation, Cal did just that.

The master thief led him down the shadowed streets, moving so swiftly and quietly, even Cal struggled to keep up.

They didn’t travel long before they reached a modest estate surrounded by a walled yard.

Cal didn’t recognize the name—likely one of the countless merchants who’d struck it rich here exploiting others.

Kelsith held up his arm.

The enchanted rope there uncoiled itself and slithered up the wall until it reached the top, anchoring itself in place.

Kelsith started up without a hint of hesitation.

After an experimental tug to make sure it was actually secured, Cal shifted his disguise to a black, skin-tight tunic with a matching mask and followed.

The job Kelsith had chosen proved to be a simple, run-of-the-mill break-in.

They scaled the wall with little effort, dropping to the lawn beyond and easily evading the handful of patrolling guards.

There was nothing protecting the house itself save a basic ward, which Cal swiftly disabled via his thief’s tools.

He hesitated inside, taking in the dark halls, but Kelsith seemed to already know where to go.

He led the way up a flight of stairs toward a master bedroom nestled in the back.

Cal tensed when Kelsith eased open the door, but the inside appeared empty, the bed unused despite the late hour.

Its owner must be away—probably why Kelsith had chosen it for this impromptu heist.

Cal was surprised at how easy it was to fall back into old habits.

He and Kelsith had done enough jobs back in the day that they could practically anticipate what the other would do.

Working in tandem without needing to speak a word, they split the room in half to search for valuables.

Kelsith proffered a small sack for them to dump in anything they found.

There were a few odds and ends that might be worth something, and a small reserve of gallants and sestas kept in a drawer beside the bed.

But the real jackpot was a collection of jewels.

Kelsith held up a ruby necklace and flashed Cal a triumphant grin under his mask, which Cal returned.

Shadow and shade, how careless could the owner be?

She hadn’t even tried to conceal her jewelry, leaving her collection out in a case on the dresser where anyone could walk in and find it.

They were just finishing up when soft footsteps sounded from the hall.

Kelsith’s eyes widened behind his mask.

He fell into a crouch, drawing a dagger with one hand while raising his other arm with the enchanted coil of rope.

He looked more than ready to hurt whoever interrupted them.

The sight conjured a tremor of unease in Cal.

Stepping forward, he hurriedly gestured Kelsith back to hide in the corner.

Then, he called on his duskflame, letting the shadowy energy surge over him and alter his appearance.

He’d just finished transforming into a butler’s crisp suit when the door opened.

A maid stepped inside.

When she saw Cal, she let out a quiet yelp and stumbled back.

Cal raised his hand, flashing her an apologetic smile.

“Excuse me, miss. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

The maid took a moment to recover, clutching at her chest. “By the Goddess! I didn’t think anyone was supposed to be up here.”

“The mistress didn’t want to make a fuss,” Cal said, thinking quickly.

“If you don’t mind returning in a few minutes, I should be finished by then.”

“Finished?” A hint of suspicion crept into the maid’s voice.

She shifted a step back toward the door leading into the hall.

“What exactly are you doing in here?”

“I’m afraid I’m really not supposed to say,” Cal said.

The maid puffed out her chest. “Fine. If you won’t tell me, you can explain yourself to Mrs. Gremmel. I’m sure she’ll love to know what a man was doing in the mistress’s private quarters so late at night.”

She turned toward the door.

Feigning panic, Cal said, “All right, all right! I’ll tell you. Just…please, keep it between us. The mistress didn’t want word getting out.”

As he’d hoped, the prospect of such juicy gossip clearly appealed to the maid.

No doubt the entire staff would know about whatever he said by morning.

But that wouldn’t matter to him and Kelsith—they’d be long gone by then.

“I’ll keep it secret,” she said eagerly.

“I swear.”

“Well…” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, prompting her to shuffle closer to hear.

“Before she left, the mistress noticed that one of her skirts had been thoroughly chewed on. She suspects a rodent infestation. She tasked me with searching her room for any signs and setting out traps before she returned.”

The maid’s eyes widened.

Her gaze darted nervously around the room.

“Rodents?” Each step carried her back toward the door.

“In that case, perhaps changing the sheets can wait until morning once you’re done.”

Cal barely had a chance to bid her good night before she was out the door, her steps hurriedly retreating down the hall.

He puffed out a breath, unable to hold back his grin.

A low chuckle came from behind him, and he turned right in time for Kelsith to clap him on the back.

“Well done, Faces! There’s the quick-talking rogue I know and love! We’d best get out of here quick before she has a gaggle of servants up here hurling poison.”

Despite his best efforts to remind himself that he no longer cared what Kelsith thought, the compliment sent a warm feeling fizzling through his chest.

They listened for more servants on the way out but didn’t encounter any more issues.

Soon enough, they’d made it back across the yard, up the wall, and down the other side.

Kelsith waited to speak until they’d traveled several blocks and used his enchanted rope to scale onto the roof of a closed shop.

“Ah, nothing like a good robbery to get the blood flowing!” Kelsith opened the sack, dumping its contents onto the roof.

“Let’s see what we got.”

Cal watched as he began deftly sorting their loot into two piles—separate shares for each of them.

Staring at the assorted jewels and other valuables, Cal caught an odd glint in the moonlight.

He crouched down, sifting through his pile until he held up a silver locket studded with gemstones.

It had a small engraving on the back:

To my dearest sister.

May they always watch over you.

Cal’s gut clenched as he carefully opened the locket.

Inside was a tiny portrait of an older man and woman.

Cal didn’t recognize them, but given the context, he assumed they were probably the parents of the woman who owned the house.

His hand shook as he let the locket drop back into the pile of loot.

Whatever lingering thrill he’d felt from the successful job faded, replaced by a sickening sense of shame.

“I don’t want it.”

Kelsith paused, glancing up at him.

“Don’t want what?”

“My share. You can keep it all.”

Kelsith frowned, his brow furrowing.

“That’s not how this works, Faces. We’re partners now. That means we split the haul, fifty-fifty.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want it.”

Kelsith’s eyes narrowed on Cal’s face as his hands stilled over his share of the loot.

“You know they can always buy more, right? People like them always can.”

That’s what Cal had always told himself.

Eternal Dark, he’d thought essentially the same thing about the people at the gala earlier that night.

For all he knew, the minor lady they’d just robbed had been among those in attendance.

But his time spent with Griff had already begun to alter his perspective.

Kelsith had always been more ruthless than him, willing to take on any job for the right price.

But that divide seemed starker than ever now.

Stealing simply didn’t have the same thrill it used to.

If he was honest, it hadn’t for quite a while.

Tonight had been an amusing diversion, but it didn’t hold a candle to how he’d felt the past week working alongside Griff on something that actually mattered.

Recalling Griff’s confidence in him that he could do more, be more, he was suddenly filled with shame.

Perhaps he didn’t owe the inspector anything…

but that didn’t mean he didn’t owe himself to strive for a life he could be proud of.

When Cal still didn’t move to take his loot, Kelsith scowled.

He shoveled both piles back into his sack.

“Fine, have it your way.” His scowl faded as he held out his hand.

“But you’ve got to admit, we still make an amazing team. Come on, Faces—give us another chance. I’ll even let you pick the jobs from now on: only targets you approve of. What do you say?”

Without a hint of hesitation, Cal shook his head.

“No.” He stood, gazing down at his former mentor.

“Sorry, Kelsith. I wish you well, I really do. But I’m done with that life. For good.”

He expected Kelsith to get angry.

He braced himself for an argument, or even for Kelsith to attack.

But to his surprise, Kelsith simply nodded, looking sad.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Even if I am disappointed.” Cal flinched when Kelsith stepped forward, but it was only to wrap him in a loose embrace.

He patted Cal on the back.

“I guess this is goodbye. Take care of yourself, Faces. And hey, who knows? Maybe you and that inspector of yours will defy the odds.”

Kelsith pulled back.

Flashing Cal one last parting smile, he gave him a sloppy salute and, sack in hand, leaped from the rooftop.

Cal stared after him for a time, an overwhelming rush of emotion freezing him in place.

This felt like closing the chapter on a huge part of his life.

Yet while there was melancholy, there was also an enormous sense of relief.

He didn’t know exactly what happened next.

All he knew was that this life wasn’t for him—not anymore.

He’d outgrown it. And it was past time he returned to Griff and saw their investigation through to the end.

Feeling lighter than he had in a long time, perhaps ever, he began his trek back through the streets toward Griff’s apartment.

It wasn’t until he was nearing Griff’s street, anticipation for seeing the inspector again building in his chest, that his fingers strayed absently to the thief’s mark containing the void orb.

Usually, he could sense when something was stored in the magical tattoo, a slight tingle spreading down his hand, along with a mental image of the object.

Yet as his fingers brushed over the spot, he felt nothing.

Sudden, sharp dread seized him.

Dashing toward the nearest streetlight, he tore open his shirt, peering down at his exposed chest. But he already knew what he’d see.

The void orb was gone.

And so far as he was aware, there was only one other person alive who knew where his thief’s mark was and how to activate it.

Kelsith had betrayed him yet again.