15. Griff
fifteen
Griff
Griff didn’t know what to do after Cal’s abrupt departure.
He’d debated going after him while his aura trail was still fresh but had ultimately decided to give Cal his space.
Cal would return when he was ready, and Griff trusted him to keep the void orb safe.
If he was going to betray Griff, he could’ve done so long before now.
And if he doesn’t come back? If he vanishes into the night and you never see him again?
The thought had made Griff’s hands tighten around the edge of the kitchen table.
In that case, he’d know where things stood between them.
Cal would get his free pass, just as Griff had agreed at the beginning of all this.
And once this business with the void orb was over, their investigation complete, Griff supposed he’d resume his hunt for Blackjack. Everything back to normal.
He was just finishing reluctantly brewing a pot of Razakethi coffee for a much-needed energy boost despite the late hour when he heard the front door opening. He tensed as Cal’s familiar aura strode into the kitchen, unsure what to expect after the way he’d fled earlier.
Cal’s current disguise shimmered away to reveal his drawn face and dejected gaze. “It’s gone,” he said. His aura, dimmer than usual, gave a faint quiver.
Griff frowned and took a sip of his coffee, wincing as the too-hot liquid scalded his tongue. He set the steaming cup aside, then leaned against the table. “What’s gone?”
“The void orb.”
Griff froze at a sudden spike of alarm. He barely registered Cal brushing past him and beginning to pace about the small room. His aura’s quiver escalated into a full-on churn.
After a moment, Griff found his voice. “Gone? How?”
Cal paused, his footsteps hesitant. With his back to Griff, he said in a low voice. “My old mentor. Kelsith. I ran into him during my walk, and he stole the relic out of my thief’s mark while I was distracted. I was nearly back here before I noticed it was missing.”
Surprise tore through Griff, along with a deeper sense of concern. “I thought you said you hadn’t seen him in years. You’re still in contact with him?”
“Not really.” Cal ruffled a hand through his hair, still not looking at Griff. “He sort of turned up after we left Bald Locke’s. He’s been…uh…following me.”
Griff didn’t like the sound of that one bit.
Nor did he like the fact that Cal had waited this long to tell him.
If this had been happening since their run-in with the Brotherhood, that meant it had been over a week.
Perhaps Cal still didn’t trust him as much as he’d assumed.
Dull disappointment thrummed through him at the thought.
For now though, he forced himself to set the matter aside.
Dealing with the missing void orb was far more pressing than his hurt feelings.
The mere memory of that brief flash of its corrupting magic he’d felt chilled him to his core.
If it was out there again, Derimay was in danger.
They needed to retrieve it before anyone got hurt.
“Show me where you lost it,” Griff said, his voice all business.
Cal met his eyes, his expression uncertain. Then, he nodded mutely and started back toward the door. Griff followed him outside into the night.
The wind had begun to pick up, another storm brewing. They were common this time of year in Derimay, and it wasn’t long before the light patter of rain enveloped them. They traveled in silence. Cal led the way, his head bowed and aura shriveled.
It pained Griff to see the thief so out of sorts, his usual brightness so frayed. But he didn’t know what to say right then that would make it better. Right now, it was the void orb that most preoccupied his thoughts: the orb…and what might happen should they fail to recover it.
Eventually, Cal slowed to a halt after scaling onto the rooftop of a closed shop. Griff stopped beside him, huffing a little from the exertion. He wasn’t as spry—or as young—as Cal, and climbing onto the roof had taken more out of him.
Cal made a jerking gesture with one arm. “This is where it happened.”
Raising a hand to shield his eyes from the rain, Griff focused on his aura-sight and peered about the dim rooftop.
His pulse quickened when he spotted a violet haze hanging in the air like the cloying scent of rot.
He shuffled closer to better study it, the hairs on his arms standing on end from the pervasive sense of wrongness that seeped from it.
He circled around the spot, searching for a trail. The one he’d followed from The Last Drop to Cal had been hard to miss, even hours later. Yet here, he could find nothing. It was as if it had been washed away by the rain.
He puffed out a frustrated sigh. “I can sense the void orb’s aura from when he stole it from you. But then it just disappears. He must’ve had some means of transporting it without leaving a trace.”
This wasn’t a random theft or a spur of the moment decision—Kelsith had come prepared. Which begged the question, what exactly did he want with the void orb? Was he working for someone else or on his own?
Griff turned to Cal. “Any idea how your mentor learned about the void orb or why he would want it?”
Cal shrugged, looking as miserable as his drooping aura. “No idea. He never once mentioned it. I had no idea he even knew about it.”
Griff frowned as another thought occurred to him—one he probably should’ve considered far sooner had he not been so distracted by the void orb’s disappearance.
“If he didn’t approach you about the void orb, then what did he want?”
Cal licked his lips, avoiding Griff’s eyes. “He, uh, wanted to team up again. To do a job together.”
Griff stared at him through the sheen of rain, incredulous.
“Is that where you’ve been for the past few hours?
” When Cal hung his head, Griff couldn’t hold back his disappointment any longer.
“Seriously, Cal? We’re in the middle of a critical investigation that might implicate a member of the Pentarchy, and you left to go rob some innocent person?
” He shook his head. “I thought you were better than that.”
Cal whirled, and Griff almost stumbled on the slick rooftop at the intent fury contorting his expression. “Am I? What makes you so sure of that? You barely know me!”
“Your aura—”
“Void take my aura!” Cal strode forward so he was right in Griff’s face. His aura swirled with regret and anger as he jabbed a finger into Griff’s chest. “I’m not the person you want me to be, Griff. Like it or not, I’m a thief. That’s what I’ve always been…and maybe that’s what I’ll always be.”
Staring down at Cal practically pressed against him while the rain misted down around them, Griff felt some of his own anger cool. He reached up and rested his hand on Cal’s accusing finger. Cal’s eyes widened as he spoke.
“You’re right, Cal—that is what you were. You were Blackjack, and Lord Heneford, and who knows how many other people before that. But you don’t need to let them define who you’ll be tomorrow.”
Cal jerked back as if struck. Tearing his hand free of Griff’s grip, he stared at him. His aura lashed and curled in a tumultuous storm echoing the storm darkening the sky overhead.
“I…I’m sorry for losing the void relic,” he said softly, hanging his head. “Good luck with the rest of your investigation.”
The thief spun and darted toward the edge of the rooftop.
A flare of panic raced through Griff. He had the sudden, abrupt premonition that if he let Cal leave this time, he’d never see him again. “Cal, wait!”
He tried to move to stop him, but his foot slipped on the wet stone, and Cal was too quick. By the time Griff had recovered his balance, Cal was gone, vanishing into the night.
Griff stared at the edge of the rooftop amid the pattering rain. Merciful Light, how had everything fallen apart so quickly?
Just last night, they had seemed so close to cracking the case: to unraveling this conspiracy and unmasking the mastermind behind it.
Now, the void orb was gone, along with his erstwhile partner, and he felt no closer to figuring out which member of the Pentarchy was behind this than he’d been before the gala.
His thoughts strayed back to Cal, his vision refocusing on the edge of the roof where he’d vanished. It would be so easy to let Cal walk away like he had Amelie. To go back to his regular life focused solely on the investigation at hand, free of any distractions or complications.
But the thought left him hollow. He wasn’t ready to let Cal go—not yet. Maybe not ever.
And by the Light, he wasn’t ready to give up on this case either.
Determination straightening his back, Griff strode to the edge of the roof and peered down at the street below. Squinting his eyes, he strained his aura-sight.
Most people’s auras didn’t leave enough of an impression for him to read once they were out of sight. But Griff had felt oddly attuned to Cal’s aura from the first moment he’d seen it. That connection had only grown this past week as they spent more time investigating together.
He puffed out a relieved breath when he spied a faint streak of kaleidoscopic colors lingering in the air. Following it like a thread, he descended from the roof and allowed it to guide him through Derimay’s back streets, his hand hovering near his revolver in case he encountered any trouble.
The light drizzle of rain soon turned into a torrent. Griff ignored it, undeterred. An entire gang of Brotherhood enforcers could’ve been sneaking up on him right then, and he probably wouldn’t have noticed. All he had eyes for was that thin streak of bright color.
Eventually, he found himself climbing onto another narrow rooftop. Cal sat huddled beside a short wall that extended around the edge of the roof. Rain cascaded over him as he stared out over the city. Though from the distant look in his eyes, Griff doubted he was really seeing it.