As she moved, she inventoried the crew Kaz had brought with him: Dirix, Rotty, Muzzen and Keeg, Anika and Pim, and his chosen seconds for tonight’s parley, Jesper and Big Bolliger.

his teeth white against his dark skin. He had yet to give up his rifle, and the silhouette of it across his back made him resemble a gawky, long-limbed bird.

“Of course he is,” said Kaz. His voice had the rough, abraded texture of stone against stone. Inej always wondered if he’d sounded that way as a little boy. If he’d ever been a little boy. “Then why come here tonight?”

If only Anya’s eyes were blue like the sea or green like an emerald. Instead, her eyes were brown—lovely, dreamy … melted chocolate brown? Rabbit fur brown? “Just tell her she’s got skin like moonlight,” his friend Pieter had said. “Girls love that.”

If only his mustache would come in. It definitely felt thicker than yesterday.

He was better off being spontaneous anyway. He was surprised to see the glass-paneled doors to the Grisha workshop open. More than the hand-painted blue tiles in the kitchen or the mantels laden with potted tulips, this workshop was a testimony to Hoede’s wealth. Grisha indentures didn’t come cheap, and Hoede had three of them.

scanning the shadows near the Exchange for signs of Black Tip spies.

Too busy strutting around in stupid purple uniform.”

Councilman Hoede was about as high placed in Ketterdam government as a man could be. The kind of man who could make a career.