Page 4 of The Thief's Mark

That elicited a chuckle from Griff. After dealing with the Pentarchy all night, he found the eccentric old man just the breath of fresh air he’d needed.

“Hey now, don’t try to pull a fast one on me,” Griff said with a grin. “I assure you, I will get to the bottom of it.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt. You must leave all of Derimay’s criminals quaking in fear of your name!”

“Now you’re the one who exaggerates.” Griff shook his head, smiling. “I’m just one man, doing his part to make the city a safer place.”

Lord Heneford gave a theatrical bow. “For which I and my compatriots are immensely grateful. Congratulations, by the way, on solving your latest case. All those poor Khordanite nobles, forced to live in fear of exposure…” He clutched his cane to his chest for a moment before shrugging. “Though of course,they wouldn’t have been so vulnerable to blackmail had they not had so many secrets to hide.”

Griff furrowed his brow. “Are you suggesting that they had it coming?”

“Of course not! After all, we all have our secrets.” Lord Heneford’s blue eyes gleamed, and he leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Speaking of, any other monumental cases in the works, Inspector? The quality of the gossip is the only reason I bother accepting these invitations anymore.”

Griff’s lips twitched with amusement as he shrugged. “Nothing worth discussing. This blackmail case ate up most of my time for the last few months. Now that it’s over, there are plenty more awaiting my attention.”

“Oh, no doubt. It seems like there’s always trouble of one kind of another afoot these days. Still, thank the Light we haven’t had to contend with open rebellion. Why, look what happened in Ilthabard to our north! Surely you havesomejuicy tidbit to share. What about your hunt for Blackjack?”

Mention of the infamous thief instantly set Griff back on edge. That was one case he was never eager to discuss, no matter how often it haunted his thoughts.

“Sorry to disappoint, my lord. But I can’t discuss any ongoing cases with the public. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course, of course,” Lord Heneford said. “My apologies, Inspector. I didn’t mean to pry. But in my line of work, you can understand why the hunt for Derimay’s most elusive thief might be a matter of personal interest.”

Griff jerked a stiff nod.

“In any case,” Lord Heneford continued, “I have complete and utter faith in you, Inspector. I’m sure you’re closer to catching that rascal than you think.”

Before Griff could muster a reply, the lights abruptly went dark. Worried murmurs and shouts erupted all around them on the balcony. Griff had his revolver out in an instant, scanning the vicinity for any hints of danger.

“What is it?” Lord Heneford said, his drawling voice laced with fear. “What’s going on?”

“Stay here,” Griff ordered, ignoring the man’s questions. “I’m sure everything will be all right.”

Leaving the friendly investor there, he returned to Sasha and found him speaking with the small squad of protectors that had been standing guard outside. Though he didn’t possess a Vantoric pistol like Griff, he had his standard-issue baton drawn, the enchanted metal crackling with electricity. He looked up at Griff as he approached.

“Any idea what’s going on?” Griff asked.

“Not a clue,” Sasha said. Griff could barely make him out in the darkened theater. “The Void-cursed lights are all powered by Vantoric runetech. Maybe the controls malfunctioned?”

Griff frowned at that. Vantoric runetech used runeflame to power fantastical inventions. In his experience, it rarely failed without a reason, and certainly not on so grand a scale.

Something was wrong.

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

“We have this area secured. Go see if you can hunt down anyone who knows what’s going on.”

Griff nodded. “Be back soon.”

Slipping past Sasha and the protectors, he made his way into the hall. It was even darker here than on the balcony, barely any ambient light trickling in from outside. Taking a steadying breath, he reached up and removed his aura blockers, bracing himself for the sudden rush of auras.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad out here in the hall. Behind him, however, he could sense the thousands of latent auras from theaudience, each a swirling burst of color waiting for him to focus on it.

Tucking his glasses in his coat pocket, he started down the hall. He moved slowly, his pistol at the ready with the barrel pointed toward the floor. He scanned the hall as he went, but didn’t spy anything suspicious.

A pair of approaching auras suddenly bloomed ahead of him at the end of the hall. Both flickered in agitation, writhing with bright, hectic streaks of orange. He paused, crouching down to wait for them to approach.

He relaxed when he recognized the auras’ owners as the pair of protectors he’d seen patrolling the floor when he first arrived. “Don’t attack,” he called, rising slowly to make himself known to them. “I’m an inspector with the Watch.”