Kaz cracked opened the door. They both stopped short.
Over Kaz’s shoulder, Wylan saw a little girl standing on the landing, leaning on the neck of one of the massive gray dogs. She had to be about five, her toes barely visible beneath the hem of her flannel nightgown.
“Oh Ghezen,” Wylan whispered.
Kaz stepped out into the hall, pulling the door nearly shut behind him. Wylan hesitated in the darkened office, unsure of what he should do, terrified of what Kaz might do.
The girl looked up at Kaz with big eyes, then removed her thumb from her mouth. “Do you work for my da?”
“No.”
The memory came at Wylan again. I’m a good man. They’d ambushed the clerk coming out of the Menagerie and hauled him to the top of the lighthouse. Kaz had held him by his ankles and the clerk had wet himself, screaming and begging for mercy before he’d finally given up Smeet’s whistle commands. Kaz had been about to reel him back up when the clerk had started offering things: money, bank account numbers for Smeet’s clients, and then—I’ve got information on one of the girls at the Menagerie, the Zemeni.
Kaz had paused. What do you have on her?
Wylan had heard it then, that low, dangerous note of warning. But the clerk didn’t know Kaz, didn’t recognize the change in the rough scrape of his voice. He thought he’d found a wedge, something Kaz wanted.
One of her clients is giving her expensive gifts. She’s keeping the money. You know what the Peacock did to the last girl she caught holding out on her?
I do , Kaz said, his eyes glinting like the edge of a straight razor. Tante Heleen beat her to death.
Kaz— Wylan had attempted, but the clerk kept talking.
Right there in the parlor. This girl knows she’s cooked if I tell. She sees me for free just so I keep my mouth shut. Sneaks me in. She’ll do the same for you, your friends. What ever you like.
If Tante Heleen found out, she’d kill your Zemeni , said Kaz. She’d make an example of her to the other girls.
Yes , the clerk gasped eagerly. She’ll do anything you want, everything.
Slowly, Kaz began to let the man’s legs slide through his grasp. It’s terrible, isn’t it? Knowing someone holds your life in his hands.
The clerk’s voice rose another octave as he realized his mistake. She’s just a working girl , he screamed. She knows the score! I’m a good man. I’m a good man!
There are no good men in Ketterdam , Kaz said. The climate doesn’t agree with them. And then he’d simply let go.
Wylan shuddered. Through the crack in the door, he saw Kaz squat down so he could look the little girl in the eye. “What’s this big fellow’s name?” Kaz said, laying a hand on the dog’s wrinkled neck.
“This is Maestro Spots.”
“Is that so?”
“He has a very fine howl. Da lets me name all the puppies.”
“Is Maestro Spots your favorite?” asked Kaz.
She appeared to think, then shook her head. “I like Duke Addam Von Silverhaunch best, then Fuzzmuzzle, then Maestro Spots.”
“That’s good to know, Hanna.”
Her mouth opened into a little O. “How do you know my name?”
“I know all children’s names.”
“You do?”
“Oh, yes. Albert who lives next door and Gertrude on Ammberstraat. I live under their beds and in the backs of the closets.”
“I knew it,” the girl breathed, fear and triumph in her voice. “Mama said there was nothing there, but I knew it.” She cocked her head to one side. “You don’t look like a monster.”
“I’ll tell you a secret, Hanna. The really bad monsters never look like monsters.”
Now the little girl’s lip trembled. “Did you come to eat me? Da says monsters eat children who don’t go to bed when they’re told.”
“They do. But I won’t. Not tonight. If you do two things for me.” His voice was calm, almost hypnotic. It had the coarse rasp of an over-rosined bow. “First, you must crawl into bed. And second, you must never tell anyone you’ve seen us, especially your da.” He leaned forward and gave Hanna’s braid a playful tug. “Because if you do, I’ll slit your mother’s throat and then your father’s, and then I’ll cut out the hearts of all these sweet slobbering hounds. I shall save Duke Silverhaunch for last so that you will know it’s all your fault.” The little girl’s face was as white as the lace on the neck of her nightgown, her eyes wide and bright as new moons. “Do you understand?” She nodded frantically, chin wobbling. “Now, now, no tears. Monsters see tears and it only whets their appetites. Off to bed with you, and take that useless Maestro Spots along too.”
She skittered backward over the landing and up the stairs. When she was halfway up, she cast a terrified glance back at Kaz. He raised one gloved finger to his lips.
When she was gone, Wylan slipped out from behind the door and followed Kaz down the steps. “How could you say something like that to her? She’s just a child.”
“We were all just children once.”
“But—”
“It was that or snap her neck and make it look like she fell down the stairs, Wylan. I think I showed remarkable restraint. Move.”
They picked their way past the rest of the dogs still flopped down in the hallway. “Incredible,” Kaz said. “They’d probably stay like that all night.” He blew on the whistle and they leapt up, ears pricked, ready to guard the house. When Smeet returned home, all would be as it should: hounds pacing the ground floor; office intact on the second floor; wife snoozing comfortably on the third floor, and daughter pretending to do the same.
Kaz checked the street and then waved Wylan outside, pausing only to lock the door behind them.
They hurried down the cobblestones. Wylan peered over his shoulder. He couldn’t quite believe they’d gotten away with it.
“Stop looking around like you think someone’s following you,” Kaz said. “And stop scurrying. You couldn’t look guiltier if you were performing the role of Thief Number Three in a penny play on East Stave. Next time walk normally. Try to look like you belong.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time.”
“Of course not. Keep your collar up.”
Wylan didn’t argue. Until Inej was safe, until they’d gotten the money they’d been promised, he couldn’t make any grand ultimatums. But there would be an end to this. There had to be, didn’t there?
Matthias gave a high birdcall from the other end of the street. Kaz glanced at his watch and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it wildly. “Right on time.”
They rounded the corner and slammed directly into Cornelis Smeet.
M atthias kept to the shadows, watching this strange play unfold.
Cornelis Smeet tipped, losing his footing, hat sliding from his nearly bald head. The boy who had run into him stepped forward, offering assistance.
The boy was Kaz, but he was not Kaz. His dark hair was mussed, his manner flustered. He kept his eyes averted, his chin tucked into his collar as if hopelessly embarrassed—a green youth, respectful of his elders. Wylan hovered behind him, shrunken so deeply into his coat Matthias thought he might actually disappear.
“Watch where you’re going!” Smeet huffed indignantly, resettling the hat on his head.
“Terribly sorry, sir,” Kaz said, brushing the shoulders of Smeet’s jacket. “Curse my clumsiness!” He bent to the cobblestones. “Oh dear, I think you dropped your wallet.”
“So I did!” Smeet said in surprise. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Then, as Matthias watched in disbelief, Smeet opened his billfold and drew out a crisp five-kruge bill. “There you are, young man. Pays to be honest.”
Kaz kept his head down but somehow managed to convey humble appreciation as he murmured, “Too kind, sir. Too kind. May Ghezen be as generous.”