The slats buzzed. Kaz looked up and out the open door to his domain. The same name over and over, Wraith. When the Dregs said it, they lacked the heavy edge and replaced it with a breathy wonder. Like speaking it too harshly would bring catastrophe and otherwise they could be excused as if in prayer. Kaz often prayed to the barer of that name, though he scarcely admitted it to himself, and he used her given name: Inej.

She was afforded the space that she'd earned with brass knuckles and knives. No one slapped her back or even extended more than a handshake. Most didn't even do that, just halted mid-air and switched to an awkward wave. He didn't remember getting to his feet, just did it, with his cane still at his desk, he'd made the fifteen steps unaware of the throbbing. The temporary suspension of his pain receptors snapped to reality when he saw the grim and determined line of her lips, the small furrow of her brow. This was not a happy homecoming.

He glanced around for Curry, the messenger assigned to fifth harbor. The boy's soul task was to bring news of certain boats, captains, sailors directly to the slat. But the kid was out of breath and behind Inej pushing to get through. Curry's thin twelve-year-old frame passed like a sheet of dirty paper through the smallest gaps. He panted, bent over in front of Kaz.

"The Wraith docked."

"When?" Kaz pulled his watch from his vest pocket.

"Just the ten that the run took me."

"Then how'd the captain beat you here?" Kaz challenged, prepared to backhand the boy, and worse, if he lied.

"She came ashore on a different vessel about twenty minutes ago," Inej crossed the buffer that always existed between the banter and Kaz's office door.

"What business then?" Kaz stepped sideways and waved her in. He left Curry unaware of the beating he'd just been spared.

The pain surged like a floodgate releasing all that he hadn't felt in his adrenaline fueled rush to the doorway. He hopped a little and let the door close. He leaned back against it, eyes closed and focused on breathing for just long enough that Inej noticed.

"Injured?"

"Nothing more than usual," he assured. "What business, captain Ghafa?"

"Mr. Brekker…" she started, playful and with a smirk, but quickly dropped the slight act and delivered her news. "I've got a ship to sell, fast. And I need to restock my munitions, supplies, water."

"The ship got papers?"

"You know it doesn't."

"I've never brokered in vessels before."

"You bought one, I figured you could figure it out. Ten percent."

"No papers… Fifteen."

"Steep for a friend."

"Anyone else would be twenty-five." Inej chortled short and breathy. He added, "How fast you want it gone? It'll dictate the price."

"Fast as you can. Two days?"

"Two days, fifteen percent?"

"The deal is the deal," Inej confirmed.

"The deal is the deal," he nodded once, affirming his side. Then he took a tentative step and hobbled back to his desk. When he crossed by her, he passed just a foot in front of her. He felt her hand on his stomach and paused. Another hand tilted his head to look at her.

"Business concluded," her hand stroked the stubble on his chin and pulled his eyes onto hers. "I've missed your face."

"Likewise," he let the grin pull at his lips hoping it would bring a mirrored smile onto hers. His lips parted exposing his white teeth when he was right. "You safe? The supplies should have lasted longer."

"I had more successes than anticipated. The food, the munitions, just didn't last."

"I suppose that is one measure of your good fortune. Two days?"

"The ship was part of a fleet. We gotta get lost on the blue or cause an incident. I'm not sure we can pull off another roust. I thought you'd like to keep fifth harbor canon ball free?"

"Preferably." Kaz needed to sit, stretch his leg, and ease the muscles that were cramping from his poor posture. He settled for leaning against the desk, leg out stretched and grabbing the table top with both hands. He pressed up and let his hips sag down, gravity pulling a stretch along his back. The bones cracked into place.

It was always awkward when Inej first got back. They struggled with proximity and the lack of practice of being in each other's company. The resistance to relaxing, relinquishing armor, and with just two days, he doubted the effort needed would pay off. He wondered if she'd be in front of him if not for the second ship. She'd been into and out of the harbor without paying him any attention at least three times in the last year. He didn't take it personal, it was her business how much she dealt with demons on and off the water, so he said. Only he did take it personal, deeply personal.

"Come to Wylan's?"

"Does he have new art to steal?" Kaz flexed an eyebrow up. She tilted her chin down and the scolding look made him smirk. "Of course, I'll always accept an invitation to the Van Eck residence. What time?"

"Can you leave with me now?"

"Are we going by air or by ground?" Kaz reached back for his cane and used it to catch the brim of his hat off the hook on the wall.

She looked pointedly at his leg."You fit to make the walk?"

He glared at her when she fetched his coat from the back of the door.

"Keep up," he called, pressing through the throngs barely giving them time to part. His throat clenched at the shock of pain that swirled on every step, but weakness wouldn't due in the Slat's main room.

Out of the Slats and away from any prying ears, Inej tucked her hand into the crook of his arm like a proper lady might. Kaz fought the urge to pull away and stayed his course. He mulled on the pull of her body with each lurching, uneven step he took. And he liked it. He liked better imagining them doing it all the time. Inej, the queen of the barrel, him the king, a pair striking fear stronger than the threat of reprisals. Only she was commander of a different cause and a different sector - seeking her own retribution and justice. Justice wasn't a word that he could abide by with the same pristine morals she applied. Of all the people in the world, Inej made him feel so small, insignificant, and out of place. More so as she walked arm in arm with him through East Stave.

"One more thing, before we get there, and I don't need your help," she clarified for him before continuing. "One of the girls is staying. I don't know where to take her and she won't get back on the boat."

"And she's staying?"

"With Wylan and Jesper, but I was hoping you could, you know, throw her some protection if she wanders."

"There's limitations."

"Just, say you'll look out for her if she ends up in the Stave."

"As best I can. But a person makes their own choices, some of them very, very bad."

Inej hummed in the back of her throat and they pressed on.

.

.

"Does she speak Kerch?" Kaz looked the girl over from the hallway.

She, this unnamed, frail creature, perched by Wyland's mother watching her paint.

"I don't know. Looks maybe Kerch," Jesper followed Kaz's attention and performed his own examination.

"Could be Zemini…" Wylan interjected, while the girl was darker skinned and had the tight curls often attributed to the Zemini, she wasn't so dark as to make them certain.

"I've tried Zemini. Doesn't seem to faze her." Jesper shrugged and tapped his fingers on his elbow.

"Could ask her in every tongue we know. Between us that's a fair few," Wylan suggested, as if they all hadn't attempted different phrases on their own.

"She hasn't said a thing. Just sits like that and watches. The whole way on the boat just sat at the rail. She even slept on deck when it wasn't raining," Inej said.

Wylan chewed the outside of his thumb.

"Are her cords cut?" Kaz asked.

"No scars," Inej said.

"So what do we do?" Wylan asked.

"She's no good on a boat and I do t know where to take her if she won't say. I was hoping she could recover her, with you."

Jesper stiffened and his hands went to his hips though his guns were stored elsewhere, the motion was a habit he couldn't drop. He asked, impatient, "With us? For how long?"

"I'll return in a couple months," Inej said.

"And what do we do with her?" Wyland pulled the thumb out of his mouth like he'd just noticed he was chewing it. He wiped the spin on his trousers and tried to look a little less a mess.

"I don't know, be her friend? Take care of her? Be kind to her?" Inej suggested, almost scolding.

"Best you can do is review any contract she's offered. Keep her from dying in the brothels." Kaz shook his head in disbelief.

"Kindness isn't his strong suit," Jesper stated the obvious.

"I guess she could stay with us. Mother seems to like the company," Wylan said.

"How do we know we can trust her in our house?" Jesper countered, his hands, again, hunting for handles at his hips.

"Bring her to the Slats. We need a cook," Kaz said. They all turned and looked at him, alarmed, "She should earn her way like everyone else. Besides, if I'm to keep an eye on her, she needs to be where I have eyes."

Inej looked between Wylan and Kaz.

"You can't be serious? In the slats? Someone will violate her."

"Not if I say she's off limits. And if they do, I'll take their hand." Inej didn't doubt Kaz's ability to inflict violence, she just hated that it could only be doled out in hindsight. "I swear, Inej, no one will touch her."

"Well, if that isn't love," Jesper took a breath and excused himself to find fresh air outside.

Inej glanced between her choices and knew Kaz could only protect the girl in his house and Wylan was the same. Only if she found herself in trouble it would be in Kaz's territory.

"I don't know if she cooks."

"If she can't she'll be an improvement. But the only room I have is yours."

"You keep a room for me?" Inej asked, chuckling.

"Of course. You're part of the Dregs, aren't you?" Kaz turned on his heels and stepped through the hall, "Bring her tomorrow."

"Where are you going? We haven't eaten yet," Wylan called after him.

"I gotta go sell a boat," Kaz descended the stairs with extra weight on the banister.