The World of Myth - Samuel Hayne - Faro’s Ring Part One

There had to be more to the box than Nick was seeing. The thief turned it upside down to look at the bottom. Something inside moved and there was a distinct metallic, clinking sound. He gave the box another shake; there didn’t seem to be any visible way to open the wooden container.

“Fuck this goddamned thing. I want what’s inside,” Nick grumbled. With a wicked smile suddenly creeping across his face, Nick lifted the box over his head and hurled it at the sidewalk. The wood splintered into shards on impact with the pavement. Lying in a puddle between his scuffed, black Gucci shoes was a ring. The thief bent down and picked up his treasure. A gold band with a single setting, the ring held a small stone as blue as an Egyptian sky.

Nick wiped at his face with his free hand, covering his eyes. He took a deep breath and decided not to hurl the ring across the plaza. The ring was worthless to him. It wasn’t like cocaine that he could cut with baby powder and sell here and there. He could only sell the ring one time. It would fetch a beefy price on the underground market, but it was a rare item and could be linked to Faro. Gazing down at his feet, Nick noticed the ring had a small paper tag tied to it with a thin string. The tag had yellowed with age and the black ink had faded, but the writing was still legible: '#249 Arkham Alley.'

“Arkham Alley?” he asked out loud. “I know that place. It's a few blocks south of Market Street.”

A black car slowly cruised east on McAllister Street. Its headlights cut an eerie blue path through the misty street, giving Nick an impression of the car having an aura of blue flame. Three men, standing along the sidewalk, did not seem to notice the vehicle as it drifted by them. Ducking behind a tree for cover, Nick watched as the car stopped beside the oblivious men. Nervous sweat formed on Nick’s upper lip, wetting his neatly trimmed moustache. He thought he recognized the car as one of the Cadillac’s from Faro’s fleet. Nick needed to get moving before they saw him. The ring fit easily onto his left ring finger and Nick thought that a better place for his treasure than his jacket pocket.

He jogged the two blocks over to Market and Ninth Street and attempted to hail a cab. None stopped for him. It seemed the bars on Market Street had closed their doors for the night. Crowds of laughing, rowdy people filled the sidewalk. Nick floated through the after-hour traffic, crossing without delay.

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