Page 32 of The Thief's Mark

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Cal

Food.Calscoffedashe donned a fresh duskflame disguise and made his way away back onto the streets. It had been a poor excuse, but it was the first thing that sprang to mind to get him the Void out of there.

He darted down a familiar alley, mostly just wandering for the sake of it. He had no real destination in mind. At least the rain had stopped, though it remained overcast.

Eternal Dark, it was stupid enough that he’d gone back for the inspector at all instead of fleeing the city while he could. But bonding with said inspector while massaging lotion into his side? That was a step too far.

So what if Griff had shown him a scrap of common decency? Or if he felt some fleeting empathy for the investigator? He was still an officer of the law tasked with hunting Cal down. Still determined to toss Cal behind bars the instant he had no further use for him.

A single honest conversation didn’t change any of that.

Cal scowled at a discarded pile of rubbish choking the mouth of an alley. He veered around it, kicking at some of the scraps scattered about the cobbled street.

And what the Void had been up with that comment Griff made about making more of his life? Probably just the inspector playing mind games with him. The Void-eater probablywantedhim to feel guilty enough to turn himself in and repent.

Well, the joke was on him! Caldidenjoy his life, no matter what the inspector thought. And he was Dark-cursedgoodat it, too. Void take Griff for thinking he knew the first thing about him or his life!

So his thoughts went, churning around in circles, for the next hour as he meandered through the familiar streets. He shifted disguises several times, just in case Bald Locke and the Brotherhood were out looking for him.

When the sun began to sink below the horizon and the fresh ocean air had calmed his jagged nerves, he started heading back. That Sunkeeper had been rigorously clear with his instructions, and as annoyed as Cal was at Griff’s presumptuousness, he didn’t intend to let the medicine he’d procured go to waste.

After a brief internal war with himself, he made for the nearest evening market he trusted to have food that hadn’t gone bad. He’d only intended to pick up enough for a single meal—it wasn’t like Griff would be staying around long enough for more once he mended. But somehow, he ended up lugging two large bags stuffed full of enough food to fend off their hunger for a week.

Best to be prepared,he told himself. Griff might not be there long, but Cal needed to stock up to lie low for a bit anyway until all this business blew over. And if Griffdidend up sticking around for a few days, well, at least they wouldn’t starve to death.

He turned down a narrow side street back toward his cliffside house. Despite his foul mood, his instincts were keen as ever,and he didn’t miss the hint of movement he caught from the corner of his eye.

Someone was following him.

Years of practice kept him from showing any visible reaction. He continued on his way at the same quick pace he’d had before, his mind racing.

Most likely it was a Brotherhood thug. Bald Locke didn’t seem the type to learn his lesson easily. Though how he could’ve found Cal so quickly while he was disguised eluded him. Did Locke have some way of tracking him? Or maybe they’d found his safe house?

A small knot of worry for Griff tightened in his chest at the thought. He quickly stifled it. The inspector’s safety wasn’t his top concern. He needed to look after himself first.

He followed another street for a bit before it abruptly veered to the left. The instant he was out of sight, he stashed his grocery bags behind a rubbish bin—they were too identifiable. He could swing back around for the supplies once it was safe. Then, he shifted his appearance to that of a beggar with a flare of duskflame.

Affecting a limp, he hobbled down the alley and exited onto one of the main streets in this section of town that paralleled the docks. It was late enough that there weren’t too many people out, but there were still enough for him to blend into the sparse crowd.

Rather than head straight back home, he looped around for a while first, hoping to catch a better view of whoever was following him or else lose them for good. As he went, he swapped disguises several more times until he felt certain he’d confounded any potential tail.

Just to be safe, he turned off onto a side street and feigned a drunken stumble against the wall to give him an excuse to glance back. Shock rippled through him when he caught a hintof a flapping cloak as someone ducked out of view into a nearby alcove.

It could have been a coincidence, but Cal’s instincts screamed otherwise. Whoever this was, they were good. Likely a professional like him. Bald Locke clearly hadn’t wanted to take any chances.

Well then, time to switch things up.

Picking up his pace, he continued down the side street until he reached an intersection. The instant he’d turned the corner, he ducked into the darkened entryway of a closed fishing shop. Huddled against the wall, he called upon his talent to alter his appearance so that he was dressed all in black to blend in with the shadows.

Then, he waited.

His tail was cautious, Cal had to give them that. Eventually, however, Cal heard the soft scuff of footsteps nearing. When he saw the outline of a passing figure, he lunged from the shadows, aiming a brutal kick at their shins.

But the figure seemed ready for the maneuver, countering it with a tidy block. Same with each of Cal’s follow-up strikes. It was almost as if they knew exactly what Cal would do before he did himself.

Something swept Cal’s leg out from under him, though he hadn’t seen the figure move their legs. His pursuer followed him to the ground, deftly pinning his arm beneath his side.