“It was a really big farm.”
“And you could continue your music lessons,” said Wylan.
Now Alys’ eyes were positively sparkling. “With Mister Bajan?” Her cheeks pinked; she bit her lip. “Perhaps it would be best. For the baby.”
I n the gathering evening gloom, they walked to Van Eck’s house together, Kaz leaning on his cane, Alys leaning on her maid’s arm. The streets were eerily empty. Occasionally, they would see stadwatch and Jesper’s heart would start to race, wondering if their trouble was going to start all over again. But now that Van Eck and Pekka had been so thoroughly discredited, the stadwatch had bigger problems to grapple with, and the outbreaks in the Barrel had given the gangs plenty to occupy them. It seemed the city’s citizens, both lawful and unlawful, were seeing to themselves, and were content to leave Jesper and his friends in peace.
But none of that mattered to Jesper. He just needed to know his father was safe. He was tempted to go to the bakery, but he couldn’t risk being followed.
It put the itch in him, but for now he could resist it. Maybe using his power had helped. Maybe he was just giddy off the fight. It was too soon to try to untangle it. But tonight at least, he could vow not to do something stupid. He would sit in a room fabrikating the color out of a carpet, or take target practice, or have Wylan tie him to a chair if he had to. Jesper wanted to know what happened next. He wanted to be a part of it.
No matter the scandal that had touched the Van Eck name today, the lanterns had still been lit in the windows, and the servants happily opened the door to Alys and young Mister Wylan. As they passed through what looked like the dining room but seemed to be missing a table, Jesper glanced up at the huge hole in the ceiling. He could see straight through to the next floor and some very fancy woodwork.
He shook his head. “You really should be more careful with your things.”
Wylan tried to smile, but Jesper could see he was all nerves. He moved from room to room warily, occasionally touching a piece of furniture or a spot on the wall briefly. Wylan was still pretty banged up. They’d sent to the university for a medik, but it might be a long while before anyone was able to come.
When they reached the music room, Wylan finally stopped. He ran a hand over the lid of the pianoforte. “This is the only place in this house I was ever happy.”
“Hopefully that can change now.”
“I feel like an intruder. Like any minute, my father’s going to barge through that door and tell me to get out.”
“It will help when the papers are signed. Make it feel more permanent.” Jesper grinned. “You were pretty amazing back there, by the way.”
“I was terrified. I still am.” He looked down at the keys and played a gentle chord. Jesper wondered at how he could have mistaken Kuwei for Wylan. Their hands were completely different, the shape of the fingers, the knuckles. “Jes,” Wylan said, “did you mean what you told my father? Will you stay with me? Will you help?”
Jesper leaned back on the pianoforte, resting on his elbows. “Let’s see. Live in a luxurious merch mansion, get waited on by servants, spend a little extra time with a budding demolitions expert who plays a mean flute? I guess I can manage it.” Jesper’s eyes traveled from the top of Wylan’s red-gold curls to the tips of his toes and back again. “But I do charge a pretty steep fee.”
Wylan flushed a magnificent shade of pink. “Well, hopefully the medik will be here to fix my ribs soon,” he said as he headed back into the parlor.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” said Wylan, glancing briefly over his shoulder, his cheeks now red as cherries. “I’d like to make a down payment.”
Jesper released a bark of laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good. And no one was even shooting at him.
The cook laid out a cold supper and Alys retired to her rooms. The rest of them sat together on the steps that led down to the back garden, watching the strange sight of the sun setting over the near-empty Geldcanal, waiting. Only the stadwatch boats, the fire brigade, and the occasional medik’s boat could be seen gliding along the water, leaving wide, uninterrupted ripples in their wakes. No one ate much. They were all on edge as they waited for night to fall. Had the others made it out safely? Had everything gone as planned? There was still so much to do. Kaz kept perfectly still, but Jesper could sense the tension in him, coiled like a rattler.
Jesper felt the hope in him ebbing away, ground down to nothing by his worry for his father. He explored the house, paced the garden, marveled at the destruction wrought on Van Eck’s office. Since when did the sun setting take so long? He could tell himself his father was fine as much as he wanted, but he wouldn’t believe it until he saw Colm Fahey’s craggy face for himself.
At last night fell, and a long hour later the big bottleboat slid up to the dock at Van Eck’s elegant boathouse.
“They made it!” Wylan whooped.
Kaz released a slow breath. Jesper grabbed a lantern and the champagne they’d been chilling. They bounded across the garden, tore open the door, and streamed into the boathouse. Their greetings died on their lips.
Inej and Rotty were helping Kuwei from the bottleboat. Though he looked rumpled and shaky, and his shirt hung open to reveal a chest still spattered with pig’s blood, he was in one piece. Jesper’s father sat in the boat, his shoulders slumped, looking wearier than Jesper had ever seen him, his freckled face creased with sadness. He rose slowly and climbed onto the dock. He clutched Jesper tightly and said, “You’re all right. You’re all right.”
Nina remained in the boat, resting her head on Matthias’ chest. He was laid out beside her, his eyes closed, his color ashen.
Jesper cast Inej a questioning look. Her face was tearstained. She gave a single shake of her head.
“How?” Kaz said quietly.
Fresh tears gathered in Inej’s eyes. “We still don’t know.”
Wylan retrieved a blanket from the house and they spread it in the corner of the boathouse, then Jesper and Rotty helped lift Matthias’ massive body out of the boat. The process was awkward, undignified. Jesper couldn’t help but think the Fjerdan would have hated that.
They laid him down on the blanket. Nina sat beside him, saying nothing, his hand clutched in hers. Inej brought a shawl that she tucked over Nina’s arms, then crouched silently next to her, head nestled against her shoulder.
For a while, none of them knew what to do, but eventually Kaz looked at his watch and signaled silently to them. There was still work that required their attention.
They set about converting the bottleboat. By ten bells, it needed to look less like a merchant’s canal shop and more like a bodyman’s sickboat. They’d remade crafts many times, using the base of a single vessel as the skeleton for a flower barge, a fishing vessel, a floating market stall. Whatever was necessary for the job. This was an easier transformation. Nothing had to be built, only stripped away.
They lugged the flats of bottles into the house and tore up the top part of the deck to eliminate the storage compartments, making the boat wider and flatter. Colm helped, working side by side with Jesper as they’d done back at the farm. Kuwei drifted between the garden and the boathouse, still weak from his ordeal.
Soon Jesper was sweating, trying to focus on the rhythm of the work, but he couldn’t shake the sadness in his heart. He’d lost friends. He’d been on jobs when things had gone wrong. Why did this feel so different?