Sapphire by the Sea

Chapter 6 | COLFAX

Chapter 6 COLFAX

Colfax had felt out of sorts for weeks. More than once, he’d woken in a cold sweat. Dreams of fiery spirits and a girl with shiny black hair had plagued his nights. Lack of sleep, he reasoned, had caused his forgetfulness, his mild vertigo. Either he was working too much or thinking too much. Unfortunately, he couldn’t manage to do less of either.

Serving King Eviliv had its perks, but it didn’t offer nearly the freedom he’d been hoping for. Ever since King William of Terrapese had threatened to invade Viltresor and take the land he viewed as rightfully his, Colfax’s tethers had tightened even more.

Even though he’d escaped his former life—something few managed—and his family had a comfortable existence, Colfax’s insides itched. He didn’t like being tied to the king’s whims. Or anyone’s, for that matter. The concept of duty didn’t calm his qualms as it did for most of the guard. Especially when he’d had to kill. That had only happened once over the last five years, a clean record by comparison, but it stayed with him. He saw the man’s face every night before he went to sleep, and every morning when he woke up, it was the first face he thought of. Even before his wife, Gwen’s.

Colfax Caprico might have been a thief in his former life, but he’d never used violence until he’d started working for the king. Successful thieves were invisible. Scarring or killing marks led to capture. And Colfax had never been caught.

The quiver at his feet mocked him. It looked delicate, almost innocent, but when he had to let an arrow fly—meant to injure enough to slow its recipient—it always found its target. The bow and arrows were a weapon, yes, but they were just wood and metal without him. A pile of materials. He was the true weapon. He often wondered if, in accepting his position, he’d just traded one evil for another. That was the kind of thing that kept a man up, kept his mind company in the winter cold as he stood on the raised platform overlooking the castle gate.

There wasn’t much else to see, really. The threats from King William had proved, so far, to be empty. The two brothers often quarreled over their divided lands, but nothing real had ever come from it.

“Duty change,” Timaeus said in his melodic voice, shaking Colfax from his daydream.

“Evening, Tim.” Colfax breathed in the refreshing air, clearing the last of his thoughts. “Nothing to report. Even the stars haven’t dared to make an appearance.” In his spare moments, he liked to study constellations. It gave him a bit of hope that as big as the universe seemed, maybe there was a chance that things would work out for him after all.

Timaeus leaned his head back, his rusty hair spilling like silk behind him, and stared up at the sky. “Do you ever hope for a bit of action, just to break up the monotony? Anything to shake the boredom.”

Colfax shook his head and removed the bracer from his arm, handing it to his colleague. “Nah. I prefer the quiet.” He patted Timaeus’ shoulder with a gloved hand. “Have a good watch. I hope you see something interesting.”

He could have gone home, snuggled up next to Gwen, and tried to sleep. But his mind was restless, as it was most nights after a dull shift. Too much time to think and idle hands always got the better of him. So after bidding Timaeus good night and folding his cape—the only signifier he served the king—into his coat pocket, he instead headed toward town. His feet carried him automatically to his favorite tavern, a shanty-looking place called The Trove. Whatever he told Timaeus and Gwen and himself, Colfax went stir-crazy on these boring nights. His fingers tingled at the thought of stealing something. Though he hadn’t lifted anything in over five years and there was nothing to take and he wouldn’t dream of stealing from Nadida, the proprietor, even if there was, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets, anyway.

The tang of lemons reached his nose before he opened the weathered door. That was one thing he appreciated about the place. Other taverns always smelled like stale beer and sweat, but Nadida took pride in keeping their place clean. Colfax waved toward the counter when he entered. “Hey, Nadi.”

They nodded to Colfax, their copper bangs sliding over golden-brown skin into large, round eyes as they poured ale with both hands from metal pitchers.

Before Colfax had even sat down at his favorite table, the round one in the back corner, a barmaid slid a glass mug across his table, leaving a wet trail in the wood.

“On the house, Nadi says. They say—and I’m only passing this along because I was told to, sir—you look like you could use it.”

Colfax nodded. “Thanks.” He raised the glass toward Nadi and flipped a pewter coin into the barmaid’s hand. She pocketed it in the satchel draped across her high-necked tunic. Her long flowy pants swished as she moved to one of the long tables to serve a loud group of people Colfax recognized as traders. They didn’t give her any trouble, which didn’t surprise Colfax. Despite their professional reputations as unsavory characters, the group that landed at The Trove held themselves to a certain code of personal honor. People were respected, children protected, and promises were sacred. They didn’t come to The Trove to brawl or to flirt, and if one of them even looked like they were about to start trouble, Nadida would have them out on the cobbles before they could say “treasure.” They might be thieves and the like, but their moral compasses didn’t point straight to Hell.

Halfway through his pint, still ruminating on his life decisions and listening to the low rumble of the crowd, a wiry man slid into the chair across from Colfax. Salt and pepper curls peeked out from beneath his furred hood. It wasn’t a very clever disguise, but then again, cleverness had never been his strongest attribute.

“What are you doing here?” Colfax asked in a low whisper.

Ever since he’d been caught in a scandal two years ago, Gehry had kept a low profile. And for good reason. Thieves believed in paying debts. And they had long memories.

“Business,” Gehry said, sucking his teeth and flicking his gaze away. Colfax rolled his eyes.

He knew the man was baiting him, but he played along. “Oh? Anything interesting?”

Gehry leaned over the table and ran his thick, beige finger through the ring of condensation. “You might say that.” That familiar edge of danger in his voice sparked something in Colfax. A warning bell telling him to get out before he wished he could. It was easy to underestimate Gehry by looking at him. But Colfax wasn’t a fool. Not anymore, at least.

“Well, good luck with it.” Colfax downed the rest of his drink, now warmer than he liked, and stood, smacking the table with his hand. “Good to see you, old mate.”

“Wait, wait. I think you’ll want to stay a moment longer.”

“Why would I want to stay here and talk to you when I could be home with my wife?” He ignored the voice in his head that said he could have gone home an hour ago, and despite his better judgment, he was just a bit curious as to why Gehry had chosen now to surface. And at The Trove, of all places.

“Fair point, my friend. But I think Gwen would wait a bit longer”—he dropped his voice to barely a whisper—“if you came home with the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I don’t do that anymore. I’ve got a respectable job and a comfortable life now.”

Gehry laughed, a throaty cough of a sound. He’d never smoked a drag as long as Colfax had known him, yet it sounded like smoke was all he’d done. “And yet you spend your free time here among the scoundrels.”

Glass shattered. A plume of laughter blossomed in the tavern.

“Sorry, Nadi,” a large man called out. He slapped a few coins on the bar, looking sheepish as he grabbed the dustpan and broom off the wall and headed back toward his table, waving off his friends’ teasing.

“Good ale, clean place, and, usually, no one to bother me. Can’t think of a better place to spend an evening.”

“I know you better than that, Caprico. You may get to sleep next to a roaring fire and feast on pheasant and game, but you’re still the same restless soul I met in that alley twenty years ago. You weren’t built for sitting still.”

Colfax’s fingers twitched as he gripped his empty glass, as if agreeing with Gehry. Traitorous little beasts. But he wouldn’t let them win. “It’s what I’ve chosen.”

Gehry smirked and leaned closer. “How nice to have a choice.”

Colfax sat back down and sighed. He’d known Gehry for two decades, longer than anyone else in his life. Sadly, Gehry was the longest relationship he’d ever had. He’d put Colfax up and fed and clothed him when Colfax was just a lost nineteen-year-old with a chip on his shoulder. The older man had looked out for him over the years. Colfax knew he’d gotten lucky with his offer from the king. And he knew what it felt like to be stuck. The least he could do was give Gehry his ear for a few minutes.

Gehry’s gold eyes sparked. He relaxed into the chair, a new air of confidence circling him. He signaled the barmaid for two pints, and when Colfax tried to protest, he said, “Trust me.”

“Well, don’t wait on the drinks. What is this secret you’re jumping out of your skin to tell?”

“A job.”

“I figured as much.”

“A rare stone. I have a buyer willing to pay handsomely for it.”

“Viltresor is eyes-deep in gems. What’s so special about this one?”

Gehry fiddled with the dirt under his fingernails. “Power, of course. Magic. It’s supposed to be one of the most powerful in the world.”

It wasn’t that Colfax didn’t believe in magic. He did. His own wife practiced. Gazing globes littered their home like socks without a match. But he didn’t concern himself with it further than that. He hadn’t been blessed—or cursed, depending on who he asked—with that kind of ability, and that was fine by him. Life was simpler that way, he thought. “Sounds like quite the job.”

“The biggest take I’ll ever broker. Worth a whole new life, I’d wager.” Gehry looked down his pointed nose, eyes barely visible beneath his hood, but Colfax understood his meaning.

“I told you, I’m retired.”

“Just hear me out. Once you find it, it should be easy.”

Colfax laughed out loud, sure Gehry was just messing with him now. “What? You don’t know where it is?”

“Well... not exactly.”

Colfax stood. “That sounds like quite the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into, my old friend.” He flipped the barmaid a pewter as she set down the ale he wouldn’t drink and turned to leave. Gehry grabbed his arm, uneven fingernails digging into the thick fabric of his shirt.

“Listen, listen. I know it sounds ridiculous. I do know the general location. A sapphire worth your freedom is no laughing matter, Caprico. Think of your family. Don’t they deserve more than stone walls? Don’t you?”

The weight of Gehry’s words fell over him, freezing his body. Colfax’s heart pounded.

He’d asked himself the same thing over and over and over again. Of course they deserved more. He’d even begun to think he did, too. But not like this. He’d given up that life. And anyway, he was a thief, not an explorer. Emphasis on the was.

But... what if?

“I’m afraid to ask, but what the hell? How much?”

Gehry flashed his fake silver teeth. He drew a folded piece of paper from his cloak and handed it to Colfax, smiling widely. “They’re good for the money.”

Colfax’s fingertips tingled holding the paper. If they’d already drawn up a promissory note, they were certain someone would take the job. Which meant someone else might take this money, and his family’s chance at a different life, right out from under his nose. The sounds of the crowded tavern dimmed to a low hum as he unfolded the note and glimpsed a number he never could have imagined. That much money was intangible, like catching a star.

He should walk away. He should shove the note back, down the ale Gehry hadn’t even offered to pay for, and walk away. Go home to his wife and two sons and never think about Gehry again. He should. But his fingers, starved for so long, tasted freedom. So he asked. “Who else have you told?”

“Well...” Gehry sipped his ale. Foam clung to the scruff above his lip.

“Just tell me.”

“Just you, for now. I thought of you straight away when the offer came along. I know what this could mean for you.”

“What’s your commission?”

“With a sum this big, I’d say thirty percent is fair.”

Colfax snorted. “You’re delusional. Especially if I’m going to be the one risking my neck out there and you’re waiting here safe and sound. I’m not saying yes, not even saying I’m considering it, but you’d be hard-pressed to get more than fifteen percent from anyone with a brain.”

Gehry spat on the floor and rubbed it with his boot. Nadi gave him a hard look from across the bar. Gehry pretended not to notice and pulled his hood lower. “I’d hardly call my position safe. My buyer will require constant management. If things don’t go as planned, I’m the one answering for it. So.” He straightened up taller in his chair. “For you, I could go down to twenty-five percent.”

Colfax thought it over, calculating in his head. He couldn’t. What would Gwen say? What would she tell Nolan and Palo? How could he be absent that long from the guard?

It was a fruitless thought experiment, but he couldn’t stop his mind from turning it over. He tried to give the note back to Gehry, but his hand wouldn’t release. It clutched the potential as strongly as his heart. He was already imagining a new life, a new home surrounded by grass and lemon trees and open sky and not even the slightest whisper of the name Eviliv.

No. He couldn’t take it. He’d promised Gwen he was done. Promised himself.

But if he did... what was the most he was willing to sacrifice?

“Twenty percent, and I’ll consider it.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But there it was. An offer. A betrayal of trust. And, finally, mercifully, a way out, for good. The tightness in his chest unfurled. His fingers stilled, pleased with the potential.

He tried to swallow the irony that to create an honest life, he’d have to do one more job. His intentions were good, he told himself. If this worked—and it had to work—it would be the last time he acted dishonorably. After that, he could become the man Gwen believed he was. The man he wanted to be.

“Seems fair,” Gehry said, taking a loud gulp of his ale. He held out his hand, and they shook. “That’s more than I expected to get out of you. You always were my toughest bargainer.” He reached into his pocket again, this time producing a full-sized sheet of parchment. “I trust you remember how this goes?”

Colfax nodded, accepting the contract. “I’ll need to read it over.”

“As any good businessman would.” Gehry guzzled the rest of his pint and stood. “Bring it back tomorrow. It’s good to be working with you again, Colfax.”

“I can’t say I feel the same. But if this works out, we’ll both be better off for it.”