Page 129 of Rule of Wolves

“I can change,” said Jesper. “I’m extremely adaptable.”

They followed Wylan and Jesper across a cluttered parlor strewn with musical instruments in various states of repair and a desktop littered with what looked like tiny piles of gunpowder. Through the tall windows, Zoya glimpsed a garden and a woman painting at an easel, and beyond her the slow-moving gray waters of the Geldcanal.

The house had the starchy lines and precision of any rich merchant household in Ketterdam, but it felt as if it had been taken over by a combination of circus performers, street hooligans, and mad scientists. The dining room table was laden with paints and newly strung canvases as well as what seemed to be the bits and pieces of some kind of chemistry experiment.

Zoya picked up a swatch of fabric that looked like the color had been bled from it. “Is there a Fabrikator living here?”

“A friend of ours,” said Jesper, throwing his lanky frame down in a chair. “An indenture who likes to pop by for meals. Quite the sponger.”

“Has he never been trained? The work seems rudimentary.”

Jesper sniffed. “I thought it had a certain rustic elegance.”

“No,” said Wylan. “He hasn’t been trained. He’s stubborn that way.”

“Independent,” corrected Jesper.

“Pigheaded.”

“But stylish.”

Kaz rapped his cane on the floor. “And now you know why I don’t visit more often.”

Jesper folded his arms. “No one asked you to visit more often. And I don’t remember issuing an invitation for lunch.”

“I have a job that requires both of your skill sets.”

“Kaz,” Wylan said, carefully collecting some of the half-full glasses around the room. “We’d prefer not to do anything illegal.”

“That’s not strictly true,” said Jesper. “Wylan would prefer it, and I want to keep Wylan happy.” He paused, unable to hide his interest. “Is it illegal?”

“Highly,” said Kaz.

“But the pay is excellent,” offered Nikolai.

“We don’t need money,” said Wylan.

“Isn’t it glorious?” Jesper sighed happily.

Kaz smoothed a gloved hand over his lapel, looking at no one. “It’s for Inej.”

Wylan set down the dirty glasses. “Why didn’t you say so? What do you need?”

“To break into the base at Rentveer and misappropriate a very large supply of titanium.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Jesper, clearing a space on the table, as Wylan rolled out a long sheet of paper beside a map of the Kerch coastline. “Their security is terrible.”

Nikolai raised a brow. “Mister Brekker led us to believe the job was nearly impossible.”

Zoya scowled. “He wanted to drive up his rate.”

“Thank you, Jesper,” said Kaz sourly.

Jesper shrugged. “What can I say? I have a naturally honest disposition.”

“And I have a golden top hat,” grumbled Kaz.

“If you did, I would borrow it,” said Jesper. “Now, the first question is how we move that many pounds of metal.”