Inej could come and go as she pleased. She did not need to be crawling the walls of the Van Eck mansion. She did it anyway, neither to get anywhere nor to slip away. Because she loved climbing up high and feeling the fresh air on her face. Because it was fun.
She turned cartwheels on the roof and skittered down, swinging herself about.
The weather was crisp and clear, and the city was relatively quiet. Maybe that was because the city was always relatively quiet in Geldstraat after the Barrel. Maybe it was quieter than usual with the threat of plague. Whatever the reason, Inej enjoyed it.
"Give it back!"
She edged along the brickwork carefully now as she approached an open window.
"Come get it!"
Jan Van Eck's study was not, she imagined, a place one usually heard voices raised in fun. Inej peered in.
"This is childish, Jesper!"
Whatever Jesper had in his hand, Wylan was making a sporting effort to retrieve—but Jesper had strength and height on his side. Judging from the glance he gave the furniture, Wylan was seriously considering climbing onto the desk to get… whatever it was. He was dressed better today. Inej guessed someone had noticed his unfortunate apparel yesterday and taken in some of his old clothes. Merchants really did live in another world.
Inej smiled at the two. She had liked Jesper before. He always had a knack for finding the one unsmiling person in the room and drawing them into the party. He had struggled with his weaknesses, but knew his strengths, knew he was good in a fight and always had an eye on his friends in a dangerous situation. For every time she had looked too long at Kaz and thought too much how she wanted to be noticed for more than her skills, Jesper had been there to remind her she was seen and valued.
Wylan—that was complicated. Long before Wylan saw Inej, she followed him through the Barrel, collecting information for Kaz, reporting back little of use: a sullen, skittish boy who sometimes smiled at nothing and ducked his head when he caught himself doing it.
Impractical as Wylan was, Inej had thought she would watch him starve to death before she found anything helpful to report to Kaz. He was a soft, thoughtful, useless creature. He would share what little food he had with bedraggled strays and beggars like he didn't realize he was half of each. She had seen him speak up for children when he saw a parent raise a hand in public and the child flinch away, the sort of thing most people knew to just turn away from.
"He'll die before he does something useful," Inej had told Kaz. "He's no use to you as a corpse."
"If he's half as pretty as you say, he'll manage."
She hadn't liked that Kaz, knowing what had been done to her, so casually consigned someone to that fate. Anyway, she had only mentioned his appearance to stress that he was soft.
"I don't think so. He doesn't seem to know how to talk to anyone."
"Men don't always need them to talk."
The look in her eyes must have said that was too awful. She hated Kaz being so cavalier about terrible things. She hated him reminding her about them and seeming to suggest that it ought to be accepted. That's life.
"Boys die every day in the Barrel, or swallow their pride and survive. Why should this one be so different? Because of his daddy's money?"
Inej hadn't said anything, but she thought, No, Kaz. Because you made me care about him.
Wylan and Jesper weren't entirely dissimilar. They were different: Jesper was charming, confident, quick with a joke. On a job, Jesper was independent and efficient while Wylan did good demo work when told to. But they were both clever boys tripping over their weaknesses and poorly concealing their kind, large hearts in a rough world.
As a couple, they were… strange. They reminded her of her cousins when she heard them laughing and whispering together at night. A part of her felt envy. Wished someone had been there to preserve her innocence the way Kaz preserved Wylan's. Wished Kaz could reach out to her the way Jesper would to Wylan. Wished Nina were here, because if she were up whispering and giggling into the night, there was no one else she would be with but Nina…
Mostly she was happy for them.
Inej, in a smooth movement, hauled herself onto the windowsill, leapt onto the desk, then hurled herself over Jesper's head, snatching his prize from his fingertips before he realized what was happening. She landed in the doorway.
While the boys stared for a moment, Inej examined the token. She recognized it: a lapel pin with a fat ruby.
"Hey," Jesper objected.
Inej grinned. "Come get it," she said.
Then she took off running.
Jesper stood a chance at catching her on even ground; he was long-legged and tireless. Which meant she needed a way to take this chase off the ground. She took the corners without slowing, hurling herself at and off the walls to keep her lead time, judging her advantage by the sounds of footsteps and objections behind her.
Inej couldn't remember the last time she had this sort of fun.
She paused at the top of the stairs, looking down the hallway. She was controlling her breathing too carefully to genuinely laugh, but there was a carefree grin on her face that made her eyes sparkle. It turned to a winner's smirk when Jesper came around the corner.
She gave him until halfway down the hallway, which was when Wylan stumbled into the hallway as well, red-faced but giving the game his best effort. Then Inej hopped on the bannister and slid down to the first floor.
Once more turning to gloat, she saw a significant piece of her advantage slip away as Jesper leapt over the rail halfway down and headed full-tilt at her. She turned, ready to run—and crashed into a maid, sending a basket of laundry flying.
A moment later, Jesper skidded to a halt a few feet away.
"I'm sorry, miss," the maid said, a wince in her voice.
"Please don't be."
How had she bumped into someone? But she knew. She had been playing, focused on the game, not the placement of her feet on the solid ground.
Which is when Wylan arrived, out of breath.
"Is everyone… okay?"
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see your friends there, Mister Wylan."
Wylan waved off the apology. "Don't be," he said, puffed for a moment, then, "We weren't… paying attention."
"You're in terrible shape," Inej muttered.
"My ribs are bruised," was Wylan's retort.
The three of them helped pick up the fallen laundry, earning surprised looks from the maid—this wasn't how merchants and their guests were meant to behave themselves. Whether it was the rowdy game or helping pick up the laundry, she wasn't sure. Both, probably.
Wylan cleared his throat and gave Inej a meaningful look.
"I apologize," she told the maid. Inej had been the one to crash into her. "So does Jesper."
"What? Why does Jesper?" Jesper said.
"You were chasing me."
"You were running!"
Wylan gave him that same look.
"I apologize, too."
Wylan nodded, then scooped something up from the floor—his father's lapel pin that they had been using for a game of keep-away.
"Doesn't count as winning, Coppercurls," Jesper said, reaching out to tweak one of those curls.
"Feels like it," Wylan retorted, grinning. "Everything's all right, isn't it, Jette?"
"Y-yes," the maid—Jette—replied. "Thank you for asking. I should take the wash."
"I'm sorry we delayed you."
Once she had gone, he looked between his friends and told them: "Honestly, you are guests!" Then he burst out laughing, one hand going to his bruised ribs and the other to his pocket because this would be an excellent time to retrieve the lapel pin, if Inej were so inclined.
Jesper looked to Inej, then grabbed Wylan by the waist and tossed him over his shoulder.
"Hey!" Wylan objected. "Cheater!"
"Inej, get the pin!"
"Let me go!"
"Get the pin!"
Inej wasn't entirely sure how it happened. She went for the pin. Wylan jerked against Jesper's hold, successfully freeing himself and crashing into Inej, both of them falling against Jesper, and suddenly they were all three of them in a giggling tangle on the floor.
Jesper said, "Oww."
Inej gave his knee a gentle punch. "Get off me."
"Don't tell Kaz you had to say that."
"Inej?" Wylan asked, when the majority of the laughter had died down.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry I didn't prioritize the indentured Grisha."
"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you about it."
She didn't regret raising the subject. Wylan didn't know what he was doing running a merchant house and that wasn't his fault, but someone needed to give him pointers. She did regret mentioning his father that way. They were nothing alike. She had told him that once before.
"Shake hands," Jesper told them.
Wylan had to extract a hand from the mix of limbs and bruises, but after a moment, he offered Inej a handshake. She accepted.
"Good. I'm proud of you both. This would be an excellent time to celebrate with waffles."
They didn't.
They celebrated by extracting themselves from one another and going back to the office to look for the papers of indenture. She noticed Wylan holding his side as they went. Glutton. He'd never had friends before and didn't know how to moderate play to what his body could handle, how to stop when he hurt.
When she had been here last, lifting the DeKappel with Kaz, Inej was focused on accessing the office and taking the painting. She had given little thought to the paperwork. She and Jesper waded through it while Wylan stood by the window, fiddling with the lapel pin.
There was probably sense to the filing system, in Van Eck's mind, but Inej didn't see it. He kept a book of tidily scripted notes, all dated and chronological; his most recent bills of lading; one ledger was dedicated to mediks' reports about Alys's pregnancy.
"Merchling," Jesper said, and motioned him over.
Inej peered at the paperwork in front of him. It didn't seem the most relevant to her, an account of a ship that recently went down, but maybe he saw something she didn't. Sitting still did not suit Jesper and he was standing at the desk for now, his papers nearly upside down from Inej's perspective.
Wylan jammed his hands in his pockets and came over.
"Did you find them?" he asked.
Jesper wrapped an arm around him. "No, but you were sad over there and now you're here with me."
"'With you' is the opposite of sad." Wylan sounded like he had been trying to tell a joke but accidentally said the truth.
Inej focused hard on the papers in front of her. She wasn't sure when these two had shifted from growling and retorts to saying things like that to each other. Wylan and Jesper were starting to sound like Nina and Matthias—a thought that struck hard.
When they still hadn't tracked down the papers and the morning was nearly worn away, Wylan excused himself: "Inej, I have to see my mother."
"I understand."
She truly did. She would give anything for that chance and did not fault Wylan for leaving the search for the Grisha indenture papers—especially as he was unable to help. It would probably more productive without the distractions, anyway. She had learned a good deal about the Van Eck shipping empire, because it seemed like every few minutes Jesper had another question about something unrelated to the indentures.
"I'll go with you," Jesper said.
"You don't have to do that."
"I know," Jesper agreed, "that's what makes me so perfect."
It wasn't an uncommon sentiment from Jesper, but between his tone and the rush of blood to Wylan's face, Inej knew it was a joke between the two of them now.
"Part of it," Wylan said. Turning to Inej, "Do you have plans for the afternoon?"
She didn't, so Jesper wrote a letter to Cornelis Smeet asking for copies of the Grisha indenture papers. He was sure to have them. It was a task Inej was pleased to take on. Wylan wasn't a part of the slaving industry, but the concept of indentures still sat badly with her.
Ketterdam was quiet that day.
Fear of the plague kept anyone who could afford it indoors. The Barrel would be teeming less than usual, but still busy, Inej knew. Her mind went to Kaz. He would be planning something, he always was. Something new. Building something to burn. A part of her thought leadership of the Dregs had been his end goal. A bigger part knew better. Kaz never ran a single game at once.
Inej walked rather than climbed, because she could. What a nice reason to do something: because I can. She had not abandoned common sense, of course. She carried her Saints with her, the Saints in whom she placed her faith and the metal Saints for more practical situations.
At first, she wasn't certain why today felt so different. Relief, maybe? The past weeks had been mad ones. Or was it just the difference?
No, she realized. She was on this errand because Wylan had asked. They were working together to figure things out. In fact, this had been her idea.
It was the first day Inej Ghafa walked the streets of Ketterdam without carrying a debt.