6. Cal #2
Cal realized the inspector still wasn’t wearing his glasses. Did that mean he was reading Cal’s aura right now? An uncomfortable tremor scoured his back at the notion. It left him feeling far too exposed.
After a long, interminable moment, Griff closed his eyes again and gave a weary nod. “All right.”
Cal felt certain he must have misheard. “All…right?”
But Griff nodded again. “All right, I’ll remove the cuff.” A brief grimace flickered across his face, perhaps from a flash of pain. “I know a Sunseeker sage you can go to—someone who will help and be discreet about it.”
The inspector rattled off an address. Then, with a strength that must have rivaled that of the Immortals, Griff forced his eyes back open and shifted in bed to raise a trembling hand. “Here, give me your wrist.”
Cal could hardly believe his luck. The inspector must be more out of it than he’d realized. Or just that desperate, if he was willing to risk his quarry like this.
A large part of him still expected some sort of trick as he held out his wrist. But true to his word, Griff unhooked the cuff’s clasp. His trembling hand, along with the unbound cuff, fell back to the sheets.
Cal stared down at the bracelet, rubbing his freed wrist. So much for all his scheming to get out of it. With a rueful shake of his head, he started for the door.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, make yourself at home.”
Rain drizzled over the streets, the storm clouds from earlier finally breaking. Standing outside his ramshackle house in the rocks, he pondered his current predicament.
Somehow, miraculously, he’d wriggled his way free of another jam. He had the void orb in his tattoo, and the inspector hunting him was out of commission. Now would be the perfect opportunity to bolt.
With his ability, he could easily flee Derimay on one of a thousand different boats to a hundred different towns up and down Allaria’s coast. It would be the smart thing to do, now that the secret of Blackjack’s ability was out.
He’d miss the reputation he’d garnered here in Derimay, sure, but he’d earned it once—he could do it again.
Almost against his will, his gaze was drawn to the closed door behind him…
and the inspector who lay dying in the bed inside.
Griff was the one wrinkle in that plan. So far, the inspector had proven true to his word.
He’d trusted Cal enough to carry out his scheme with the Brotherhood, and even to remove his cuff.
In a weird way, it made Cal yearn to be worthy of that trust, as silly as that sounded.
Maybe he really does intend to let me go once this is all over.
Unsure whether he was being noble or stupendously idiotic, Cal set off down the street toward the address Griff had given him.
It was away from the docks in a nicer section of the city—one Cal had frequented often on jobs.
Rich enough to have plenty worth stealing, but not quite so rich that they could afford the kinds of guards or magical protections that would give someone like Cal trouble.
It was much quicker going without a wounded inspector slowing him down. The light rainfall didn’t bother him. He’d experienced far worse in his time on the streets. You didn’t know true misery until you’d struggled to keep warm in a broken barrel during a storm.
As he hurried down alleys and across rooftops, keeping off the main street by force of habit rather than any real need, he kept picturing Griff huddled in that bed, blood caking his side and a pained grimace marring his face.
I’ll at least visit this sage and bring Griff back the medicine. I owe him that much. Then, I’ll be on my way.
Turning a corner, his thoughts lingering on the inspector’s intelligent brown eyes, he glimpsed a flash of color from the corner of his vision. He whirled toward it, his breath catching.
For the briefest moment, he swore he spotted Kelsith’s familiar patchwork cloak billowing in the wind. But when he focused on the spot, it was gone. Everything was silent save the light patter of rain over stone.
Cal stared at the spot, then hurried over to check: nothing there. No signs of anyone else but him.
Frowning, he quickened his pace. As he did, he shifted his form, adopting a new duskflame disguise as a random laborer. He probably should’ve done that sooner, but he’d let himself get distracted. Still, better late than never.
When he reached the given address, he found a pleasant estate set back from the road. Though the grounds were surrounded by an iron fence, the gate stood open. Familiar fluttering banners marked this as the residence of a Sunkeeper sage, welcoming all in need.
Cal frowned up at the house as he approached the front door. It looked rather large compared to other Sunkeeper clinics he’d seen. The sage must operate out of his living space. Did that mean he had a family here with him too?
Like the front gate, the door stood open.
From what Cal knew of Sunkeeper customs, that meant he was supposed to walk right in.
A short hall led past several closed doors before opening up into a kind of living space.
Rather than the usual arrangement of furniture, however, it contained a bed in the middle, with a workstation along one wall and rows of chairs positioned along the others.
A young girl sat on the bed, her little legs dangling off the edge and swinging back and forth.
An older woman Cal took to be the girl’s mother sat in a nearby chair while an older man stood beside the bed.
Dressed in the white and gold silks of the Sunkeeper sect, he had a hand pressed to the girl’s chest. His eyes were closed, and golden dawnflame pooled around his fingers.
Tendrils of the magic flickered over the girl.
“Take a seat and I’ll be with you in a moment,” the Sunkeeper grunted without opening his eyes.
Griff’s pallid face and blood-soaked side flashed before Cal’s eyes, and Cal stepped toward him. “It’s urgent!”
“So are all of my patient’s woes,” the Sunkeeper said. He opened his eyes and stepped back from the girl, the golden dawnflame on his hand fading. “How are you feeling?” he asked her. “Any pain or issues moving it?”
The little girl flexed her left arm. She opened and closed her fingers, then extended and twisted the arm back and forth before grinning up at the Sunkeeper. “Nope, it’s all better. Thanks, mister!”
Hopping down from the bed, she darted past Cal toward the door, then peered back toward the woman. “Now can we go, Ma? I promised Lucile I’d meet her at the park.”
“Just a moment, hun.” The woman approached the Sunkeeper. Tears stood out in her eyes as she bowed her head. “Thank you so much, honored one. If there’s anything we can do for you—”
“Nonsense,” the man said gruffly. “You know we don’t accept payment for using our gifts. It’s part of our oaths. I’d tell you to make sure she’s more careful, but…”
The woman let out an aggrieved sigh. She shook her head fondly as she glanced at her daughter. “But we both know it wouldn’t do any good. Thank you again, honored one. Hopefully this time it’ll be longer before we need to return.”
Cal watched as the woman and her daughter moved past him down the hall. When he turned back to the Sunkeeper, he found the man examining him with narrowed eyes.
“So, tell me, what is it that’s so urgent? You look fine to me…if a bit on the scrawny side.”
Scrawny? Shoving down a flare of indignation, Cal said, “I’m not here for myself. Griff sent me.”
He’d hoped the name would mean something to the Sunkeeper. Sure enough, his entire demeanor shifted in an instant. If Cal had thought him gruff before, it had nothing on the disapproving scowl he wore now.
“Of course he did. What did Griffin do now?”
Griffin. He was definitely going to have to remember that one.
After a brief moment to gather his thoughts—and filter his tongue—Cal said, “He suffered an accident in the line of duty. Nothing too serious: just a minor a wound on his side. I tried to wrap it for him, but there was a lot of blood. He said you’d be able to give me something to help.”
He’d expected the Sunkeeper to ask more questions and was already figuring out how best to avoid some of the more sensitive subjects. But to his surprise, the Sunkeeper simply pressed his lips together into a thin, disapproving line.
“It’ll take me a few minutes to prepare a poultice.”
The Sunkeeper turned and, without another word, strode from the room. Cal stared after him uncertainly. “Should I take a seat?” he called.
The Sunkeeper returned with a case full of vials. He set it down on the workstation in the corner and began pulling out stoppered ingredients. “Sit, stand, it doesn’t matter to me. As long as you stay out of my way.”
Pleasant fellow. I see why he and Griff are friends.
Cal sank into the nearest seat. It was surprisingly comfortable. At least this curmudgeonly Sunkeeper cared enough about his patients to do that much.