Page 51 of The Thief's Mark

“Naturally. A good magister recognizes that laws must change alongside the society they are meant to represent. And you, Griffin—you would have been agreatmagister. Speaking of, have you given any more thought to what I said at the Siren’s Call?”

Griff had to admire her persistence, no matter how much it frustrated him. “My answer remains unchanged, High Judge. I am perfectly content in my current work.”

“But your mother—”

“What my mother would or would not think isn’t my concern anymore, and itcertainlyisn’t yours.”

He met the High Judge’s stare, the air growing tense between them. Before it could erupt, however, Cal inserted himself into the conversation.

“You know, I once dreamed of becoming a magister myself. Didn’t have the mind for it, though. I have nothing but the highest respect for what you do.”

High Judge Septima furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry, but do I know you? You look familiar.”

Cal sketched a quick bow. “Lord Heneford, at your service. We met briefly at the theater, though I daresay I’m not important enough to make an impression on such an esteemed personage as yourself.”

Griff was astonished to see the severe High Judge actually smile. “Nonsense—we are all equal in the eyes of the law.” She started to turn back toward Griff, but before she could resume their argument, Cal cut in again.

“If I could have a moment of your time, I’d love to hear your perspective on the recent smuggling epidemic.”

That seemed to catch the High Judge’s attention. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cal feigned surprise. “Really? My own contacts in the port authority warned me it was getting quite out of control. Rumor has it that the Brotherhood has been ramping up their operation. And not just the usual illicit fare either: dangerous magical artifacts, even ones tainted with voidflame.”

Thank the Light for Cal’s quick thinking to steer the High Judge away from her usual rhetoric. As Cal spoke, Griff focused on the High Judge’s aura, watching for any shifts that might signify strong emotions or attempts at deception.

High Judge Septima frowned at Cal. “Such rumors have not yet reached my ears. If true, that would be serious indeed. Please, tell me everything you’ve heard.”

Griff wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed at her lack of a reaction. Her aura barely shifted, the vibrating blue hues Griff caught attributable to curiosity. Either she didn’t know anything about the void orb still safely stashed in Cal’s thief’s mark…or she was a master liar.

Griff watched and listened for a while longer as Cal chatted with the High Judge, keeping an eye on her aura. Still nothing. Raised voices drew his attention, and he turned to glimpse High Commander Pern and High Merchant Teodoro having a heated discussion nearby. From what he could make out of their roiling auras, whatever they were talking about had them both riled up.

A moment later, the High Merchant threw his hands up in the air and stormed off, practically shoving his way through the crowd. His aura churned with streaks of furious red and violet. Excusing himself from Cal and High Judge Septima, Griff hurried after him.

“High Merchant, wait! I need to speak with you!”

At first, Griff thought the High Merchant would ignore him and keep walking. Then, he skidded to a halt, whirling toward Griff as Griff caught up with him.

“Whatever Pern sent you to say, don’t waste your breath. I’ve made my position quite clear.”

Griff did his best to focus on the High Merchant’s roiling aura as he replied. “The High Commander didn’t send me, sir. I just wanted to—”

“Save it, Inspector!” The High Merchant’s aura writhed like a nest of tangled serpents as he tugged furiously on his mustache. “People like you and Pern are all the same! You’d sooner see this city drown in a sea of blood than accept the possibility of change. I’ve had my fill of warmongers for the night. Now, get out of my way!”

Shoving past Griff, High Merchant Teodoro stormed off through the crowd, vanishing through an archway.

Griff stared after him, thoroughly confused. What in the Light had all that talk of blood and warmongering been about? He hadn’t been able to sense much from the man’s aura except his rage, which had seemed genuine enough. Could this have anything to do with the void orb?

He debated pursuing the High Merchant in search of answers before deciding to let him go for now. Tonight was about gathering intel, nothing more. He didn’t want to risk pushing things too far. Perhaps he could learn more about the argument from the High Commander.

Squinting in a vain attempt to tune out the sea of auras, he retraced his steps through the crowd. Thankfully, High Commander Pern hadn’t moved from his spot off to the side of the chamber. Griff had almost reached him when Sasha stepped in front of him.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Sasha said. “With the mood he’s in, he’s as likely to fire you as he is say hello. Unless it’s urgent, best to leave him be.”

Griff glanced past him to where the clearly agitated High Commander was pacing in place, then turned to Sasha. The protector’s pale aura jittered in fits and starts. Griff didn’t blame him for being on edge—not after the argument he’d just witnessed.

“Thanks for the head’s up, but I’ll take my chances.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sasha muttered as Griff stepped past him, approaching the High Commander.