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[yourvenicebitchhh]

DEKAPPEL HEIST PART THREE of three

He left, and Inej turned her eyes to the task ahead. Thanks to this godsend of a window, they were bypassing alarms, guards and who knew what else. The climb was easy, the tastefully jumbled stone exterior assured that. She fidgeted with the window screen for a few seconds before vaulting through. Moving quietly was like a second nature to her, so Inej silently found a corner around the doorframe to wait in, listening carefully for the sound of Van Eck's departing footsteps.

She seemed to be in a teenager's room, albeit one that hasn't been used in a long time. Dust adorned the exposed surfaces, leaving a musty smell in the air. Several music stands with hastily folded sheet music stood like statues in haphazard spots. On a large piece of drawing paper lay expensive charcoals snapped in half, perhaps in anger or maybe with age.

Inej pondered vaguely what she was doing at three bells in the morning in a mercher’s private residence. You doubt my ability to lift three paintings in one night? Kaz and his ambition always sent her to the craziest of places, but now she wondered why she followed his ridiculous plans. Three paintings. What would her Saints say? Inej was almost ready to grab the half-completed drawing from underneath the charcoals and call it a night when she heard the click of fine shoes on wood.

As the sound grew fainter and her ears picked up on the faint murmur of voices from floors below, she slipped around the doorframe, fluid as water. The door to the right, Van Eck’s office, was locked with the same Fabrikator insignia as Kaz had known it would be.

Inej slipped the insignia from the light load on her back. Smooth and shaped like a large coin, the metal grooves on one side of the key aligned perfectly with the recesses on the lock. She wasn’t as smooth as Kaz - she had just snagged the jack of diamonds from the pile of cards when his gaze was fixed on her; his razor-sharp focus seemed to waver for just a moment whenever that happened - but in a few seconds, she heard the telltale cranking sound. Now she drew lockpicks, tucking the insignia away.

Inej had never been good with locks, much to Kaz’s annoyance. Whenever he commented on this, she always asked him what good the duo of them would be if she fulfilled both her talents and his. Clumsily, she slid the slim bits of metal into the hole at the bottom of the lock. She poked and prodded its inner mechanisms, but it would not relent to her, not the way locks surrendered so easily to Kaz.

“That nasty piece of Barrel filth!”

Inej whirled. The irked voice was floating up from the landing below. She listened with dread as the stairs creaked under someone’s weight. Van Eck was coming back to his office.

She clenched her teeth, whispered a prayer, and slunk into the dark as his balding head appeared over the zenith of the staircase. He was fuming, striding angrily up to his door. She watched as he unlocked it, sidling into his shadow while it swung open.

Never underestimate the overconfidence of men.

Van Eck walked into his office.

Inej slunk in behind him, a shadow in his own.

The door banged shut, loud due to the heavy latch that slammed back into place. Getting out that way would be impossible unless he left as well. Van Eck was tearing through the drawers of his desk, scrambling to find paper and ink for a letter. He began writing furiously. Inej moved to the little outlet of the room that the painting was in. Kaz had given her the interior details of the office, but it was the Saints she had to thank for Van Eck’s back facing her.

Hanging next to a portrait of some elderly man was the DeKappel. She quickly and silently removed the painting from its hanging spot, grateful again for its position. Seeing it closely now, she knew it was a depiction of the Fold, beautiful and terrible all at once. In the meadow next to it, caravans of Suli people were barely visible among tall flowers. Inej traced her finger across the ebony hair of the only distinguishable person. DeKappel had painted this oil watching her people in front of him, juxtaposing simple, unbothered life with the rash ambitions of man.

Van Eck threw down the pen, standing up with his letter and storming out of his office. Inej exhaled a breath of relief in the quiet. The painting wasn’t too big, small enough to carry and to fit through the window above Van Eck’s desk without being tarnished. She had one last thing to do: emptying the package on her back before she did just that. She passed the painting to Jesper, who was waiting gleefully below. He hefted it to the barge and started to untie it from the dock.

Hanging delicately from the window ledge, Inej surveyed the room for a moment. With the painting stowed safely away on their boat, all was left as it had been, except for the place where the DeKappel had hung for one short day. They’d taken something, then left the same generous present in the other mansions too, courtesy of Jesper.

Each mercher’s expensive art had been replaced by a dirty sheet with a crudely drawn picture of a crow.

____

At four bells, Inej and Kaz were back in his office, him in his chair and her slumped against the window. They’d spent many nights like this, fueled by adrenaline and ignoring exhaustion. Tonight was no different, except for the three DeKappels in the corner.

“I have a question for you,” she said.

“Enlighten me.”

“What have you done?”

His gloved fingers twitched. “I’ve partaken in some mischief, that’s all.”

“Van Eck was furious! What were you doing when you left?”

“If you must know, I was buying sugar.”

“Sugar?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“I’ve never seen you drink coffee anything other than black.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “Not for my coffee.”

“For your warm personality, then? Saints know you could use it.”

“If the Saints knew what I wanted, it wouldn’t be sugar I’d be receiving.”

Inej regarded him witheringly. “Tell me what you’ve done, Kaz.”

Kaz’s lips quirked. He was clearly enjoying the epilogue of his DeKappel heist. “Did you hear there was a shipment of sugar coming in from East Ravka, a day after our paintings?”

“I hear most things in this city, except anything ever pleasant from you.”

“Only my demons hear the pleasant things, so you’re not alone. Fifth Harbor is the destination of many Ravkan exports. We received the paintings, and we were supposed to get the sugar as well. It’s from some special crop, and transport was expensive, so the Dregs should have gotten a fat sum for it. Where do you think my sugar shipment went?”

"Second Harbor," said Inej. "To the Dime Lions."

"Yes. The Dime Lions got the two thousand kruge from the Council, and they have my sugar."

"Your sugar?"

"If a shipment of sugar that worthy goes missing, the perpetrator can sell the sugar to someone else for much more than two thousand kruge."

"But the Merchant Council has records of your shares in Fifth Harbor."

"Yes, and of the Dime Lions' in Second Harbor."

"So if you steal the sugar from Second Harbor, it'll look like the Dime Lions did it." Something slid into place in Inej's brain. "That's why you let Jesper paint a crow on the sheets. It looks like they framed us. The missing sugar, plus the robbery, pins this squarely on them." She leaned forward. "You let the Dime Lions take the painting and sugar shipments."

"I did. I was right when I said every stock in this city was in jeopardy - they were, for two days."

She nearly laughed. "The Dime Lions will pay through their noses for this."

"Pekka Rollins will be scrambling for a few months."

"Then you were at the harbor tonight?"

"I was. The sugar was sold to the Shu Han before it even left Ravka,” Kaz told her. "As soon as the ship docked in Ketterdam, the sugar was sent to them via South Kerch in return for about six thousand kruge."

"But how didn't the merchers notice the shipment was empty yesterday?"

"It wasn't. I had it replaced."

"With regular sugar, then."

"Too expensive, and the Ravkan grains are much smaller."

Inej remembered the full salt and sugar shakers she had bought two days ago. He had used them for the comparison. We're filching off rich people. "Salt."

"Yes. Van Eck and the rest of them finally noticed tonight."

Inej marveled at Kaz's ability to make you believe you were about to win when in reality you had just plunged into his trap. "Speaking of Van Eck, there's something you need to know.” She glanced over at the uncovered paintings, leaning against each other and the wall like cards. “Why did I break into his house on my own?”

“Are you asking whether I doubt your competence?”

“I am aware of my competence. Why…” Inej hesitated. She had questions, and she deserved answers. “What was the need to grab the third one when two was enough?”

Kaz’s eyebrows rose. His eyes glinted like he was enjoying this, not like she’d just questioned his meticulous planning. “Was there something wrong with the third one?”

Inej narrowed her eyes. “It’s a custom, but you knew that. There’s no canvas on the back. It was done for someone specific, then Van Eck bought it from him, which means there’s clear records of the purchase. If we sell this, it’s a direct link from him to us, and the humidity is ruining the paint. So I’m asking again, why did we go through the trouble of stealing this one if we can’t sell it?” She looked at the DeKappel she had lifted from right off Van Eck’s wall, at the texture of the flowers, the deep expanse of black slashed across the background, the highlights in the Suli woman’s hair. She looked back.

Kaz was also gazing at the third painting. “Well, I rather like it.”

Inej's lips twitched in a smile. “Profitable night, yes?”

He looked at her then, and she was startled by the infatuation in his stare. She realized then, it was all a serious game to him. Like a fixed deck of cards, where distracting a mercher had been one small step in something much, much larger. Soon, he would flip a card and send them tumbling into another scheme. He played like he had lost once long ago, all points stolen away at the very last moment - but now he had come back for revenge. Inej only wished she knew what would happen when he won.

A smile flitted across his face. "Yes."

[yourvenicebitchhh]

DEKAPPEL HEIST PART TWO of three

"Three DeKappels?" said Jesper incredulously. "to Visser, Meyer, and Van Eck?"

Kaz gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "That's three merchers the Dime Lions have their teeth in."

"Since when did merchers accept money from the gangs?" Inej asked.

"Times are changing," said Kaz bitterly. He'd have to reevaluate the stocks he held at the Exchange. They could be usurped from him if the dirty Council was paid the right price by any of the gangs. "Every damn share in this besotted city is in jeopardy."

It was the second night of the infuriating heat wave. Kaz's veins were unusually fraught, his patience ran out and his temper unchecked. The cheap clock on his office wall chimed its off-key tune marking twelve o'clock.

"Get to the door, Jesper," Kaz snapped irritatedly.

"I was going," Jesper said sullenly, shutting the door behind him.

Kaz barely registered the look of what might have been hurt on the sharpshooter's face as he got up to pour himself a drink. He slammed a dusty glass onto his cluttered desk and filled it halfway. He threw it back and drained it to the bottom. He poured another one and flung his coat and jacket onto the bed, then slumped in his desk chair.

Inej had moved silently to the window sill. "Bad business on the East Stave again tonight, Kaz," she said quietly, watching the people below.

Kaz took a sip of whiskey. "Look down the street, Inej."

He heard her exhale. "Bad business at the Crow Club."

Kaz's response was the thud of the glass on wood. His leg pained him worse in the cold than it did in the heat, but stress did nothing to alleviate that tension either. Agony was shooting up his taxed muscles.

Inej was still on the sill, gazing outside. She looked like a saint when she sat like that. She should keep sitting like that. But now she was getting up and pouring her own drink. There, a few sips down. Now she was balanced easily on the edge of his desk, despite the drink.

"You know what we need?" Kaz said.

"Business?"

"Money.''

"Lots of it."

"Let's steal a painting."

Inej pushed her drink away. "Kaz, no."

"Yes. Let's steal a DeKappel."

She met his eyes. "Everyone in Ketterdam knows fully well you're a thief. Committing every sin to prove it is unnecessary."

"I want a painting, Inej."

"Buy one."

"But you said I'm a thief. What good is a thief who doesn't steal?"

She looked away, exasperated, and Kaz immediately regretted his words. He gazed at the girl, the phantom poised a few feet in front of him. He wanted to touch her just to see if she was real.

Kaz slid a leather covered hand into one pocket and pulled out a packet of cards. He flipped the deck face up and fanned it out.

Inej turned her head back to him at the sound.

He squared up the deck in his left hand, thumbing four cards over to his right. He showed these to her: the ace of diamonds, the king of clubs, the queen of spades, and the jack of diamonds. "The merchers make a profit the same way we do. They watch and wait. They invest and reap. They steal and they con, Inej, they just do it under a title to justify it." He showed her the seemingly same four cards in his right hand, but this time revealing four aces. "These are the same merchers who exchange human bodies, exploit children, and swindle countries for their personal gain. And the rats have the gall to call it trade."

Kaz flipped over the four cards again, showing four kings this time. "At least I know I'm a thief." In the second it took Inej to blink, he had the set of queens added to his hand. "Let's steal a painting. A DeKappel. Only the best for you, my queen." He set the four kings and four queens down on the desk.

Gingerly, she picked up the king of clubs and queen of spades. "What is this Kaz? You show me a card trick and feed me pretty words and you expect me to go along with your wishes?"

Kaz swept the remaining cards away in annoyance. He was about to take a gulp from the whiskey bottle when she spoke again.

"I know the merchers are cruel men. I know firsthand, Kaz." She set down three cards. somehow Inej had gotten ahold of the jack of diamonds. He almost laughed. Of course. If there was anyone in the world who could have seen around his sleight of hand and done a number on him, it was the Wraith.

"Let's go on a heist," she said.

The fog in Kaz's mind seemed to ebb away. For the first time in weeks, his head space was clear, beautifully, blissfully clear - save for the diabolical plans in formation.

____

Inej watched Kaz find Jesper at his post. At two and a half bells after midnight, Jesper looked exhausted from filling in as the role of a barker.

"Jesper."

"Yeah, boss?"

"We're on a job. I need you." It was Kaz's version of an apology.

"Not the painting?'

"Three."

"Three DeKappels, boss?"

"Three hundred thousand kruge if we’re lucky."

Jesper's smile could have lit all of the Stave. "Does this mean I'm off the door?"

"Better than that. You're on Geldstraat, tonight."

Inej crept around the gutter of the Crow Club and hopped to the ground of the back entrance where she waited for Kaz and Jesper. "Three paintings?" she asked them indignantly.

"You must not know me very well," said Kaz. "When you steal one thing, it’s an endeavor. When you steal two, it’s because you want to. When you steal three it’s just to show you can."

She shot him a disapproving glare. Typical Kaz, withholding the full extent of his thoughts and revealing it only when it pleased him. "And you don't suppose selling three DeKappels would be conspicuous?"

"Oh, Inej," said Jesper, “Ketterdam sees me every day. You think she can’t handle conspicuous?”

"No," Inej responded, "it seems I am the only one who cares for our safety."

"You doubt my ability to lift three paintings in one night?" Kaz asked.

"No," she said again. Why was she reluctant? Was it that the DeKappels were Ravkan? That they were landscapes of home? Was she really that partial to art? Or that she just wasn't eager to steal? Inej pulled her hood over her hair. "I doubt whether your ego could handle it."

Jesper snorted. "His ego is just as expansive as his greed."

"Infinite," conceded Inej.

"Never underestimate the overconfidence of men," said Kaz as they climbed into a rowboat. "With the right amount of zeal and cheating, we can easily accomplish this."

"With the right amount of cheating, we can accomplish anything," Jesper snorted.

"And the locks?" Inej inquired, ignoring the arrogance of her companions.

"Leave that to me," said Kaz.

"No Grisha for the job, or am I the only watch?" asked Jesper. "I hear there's one at the House of White Rose. No demo either, so my ravishing looks must be enough."

"Not this again,” muttered Kaz. “A Ravkan Heartrender at the White Rose, but we won't need her, not for this job."

They moved quickly over the waters, the dust and grime of the Barrel vanishing as they grew closer to the wealthy districts. Kaz explained the plan in his usual fashion - disclosing the least amount of information in the most infuriating way. They tied the boat to a miraculously clean dock.

Inej dismounted, the package strapped to her back incongruously throwing off her balance in a way that was perceptible only to her acrobat mind. The first house was on the left, daffodils sprouting merrily in the front yard. She followed Kaz to a window on the bottom floor, trusting his ample knowledge of the security in all of Ketterdam. She saw Kaz direct Jesper to the same gazebo she'd been in last night, to keep a trusted eye on the street and a steady hand on his gun.

Kaz's delicate gloved hands reached out and slid over the intricate lock at the side entrance of the mansion. "Fabrikator made," he said.

Inej glaced worriedly at him. She knew better than to doubt his skill, but Fabrikator locks required more than just ability to crack. They contained magic. This explained the quick trip he had taken before they'd gone to rescue Jesper from his post.

Something like a stamp appeared in Kaz's palm. "Fabrikator locks are just complicated latches. Extremely easy to pick, if not for the pulley system that lifts the latch. Nothing but a Fabrikator enchanted insignia can budge that pulley."

"Where did you get one?"

"I know every official locksmith and every undercover lock pick in this city. The hard part wasn't finding the insignia - it was determining which of these idiots weren't selling counterfeit ones without even being aware of it."

"Well, did you tell them they were fakes?"

"Of course not."

Kaz's hands passed over the lock on the door. Inej heard a cranking sound, then saw the flash of metal picks in his hands as the door popped open.

She was in and out in under three minutes, her package one-third lighter. Together, they carefully carried the sheet-wrapped painting to the boat.

The process was repeated at the gardenia house, the only difference being the size of the painting.

At the tulip decorated house, Kaz didn't unlock a side door. He left her in front of an obviously unlocked second floor window. "This is Jan Van Eck's house. The man is more prudish than the rest, so his painting is already hung up to be kissed in his office. It's the room to the right of this one. Enter through this window; it appears he doesn't know it's unlocked. Use the insignia to open the office door, then use the picks to finesse the lock. It's very simple, I've taught you this one already. Like I said, never underestimate the overconfidence of men."

Inej nodded, though she found one flaw with Kaz's words. "He's in his office," she pointed out. "I can hear him moving."

"I know," Kaz said. "He's so devoted to his piousness he's not yet asleep like a good little mercher. In ten minutes, you'll hear him leave. At that moment, you'll have exactly four minutes before he renters his office. Be at the barge with Jesper by then."

Inej breathed out. "Okay."

"If all goes well, send Jesper to bed and meet me in my office. We need to fence these as soon as possible."

She raised her eyes to meet his coal-black ones, grim as ever. "No mourners."

"No funerals."

[yourvenicebitchhh]

DEKAPPEL HEIST PART ONE of three

Late spring in Ketterdam is awful, tepid from the lingering rains as winter's clench refuses to slacken on the climate. Tonight was one of the worst of these sweltering evenings, the humidity dragging into the late hours.

Twelve o'clock in the Barrel drew the largest crowds as today yielded to tomorrow, candlelight and torches lighting the staves and those in the flocks of people drawn to the excitement. Only a few thin streams of masked and unveiled tourists flowed south towards the slums, heralded by barkers shouting empty promises.

"Slacking lot today, eh, Kaz?" commented Jesper from his position in a corner of the bar.

"The lot is the lot, their worth doesn't trouble me so long as they throw their gold at us." Kaz frowned. "The weather is drawing the pigeons away from the clubs and inside the pleasure houses."

"Is it not sweaty enough on the West Stave already?"

Kaz's frown deepened. "Inej isn't here tonight. watch the door. If the crowd doesn't improve by the half hour, go out to West Stave with Anika and start running your mouth."

Business was sour this time of the year at the Crow Club. Even the prospect of riches did seldom sway against the weather as the masses preferred to stay indoors or with indentures rather than try their luck at the tables. The few that ventured into gambling dens were scraggly homeless folk, drunkenly siphoning their change into gang coffers or nursing drinks at the bar.

Kaz flipped up the collar of his coat, curled his fingers around his cane, and made his way to the door. He noted the number of empty tables, the singular dealer by Makker's wheel, and the lone barkeep whom Jesper was chatting up instead of getting to his post.

Kaz's thoughts revolved around figures on paper, assurances of what could have been, shares and stocks, scams and schemes, the bloody money spread over his dirty, gloved hands.

The south Barrel was severely scarce of people. He knew Inej was on the Zelverstraat, purchasing supplies for half-formed plans that existed only in his mind and hers. He waited under the cover of a ramshackle awning. In just under two minutes, the outer edge of his shadow widened. He was almost surprised that Inej actually had a shadow, but he knew better than that. Even ghosts had shadows, though you couldn't always see them.

"You're two minutes behind, Wraith," Kaz remarked. "What's interrupted your precision?"

"Your ridiculous demands," said Inej. "Full salt and sugar shakers? Really? Where is that job, a sweet shop?"

"No," said Kaz as they started to walk. "We're filching off rich people. Merchers have the good fortune of frivolous things such as good crockery."

Inej shook her head. "Crockery." She passed the rest of the items to Kaz, who stowed them deep in the pockets of his coat. They took a rowboat east along the canal toward the Gelder District. Kaz didn't even have to say the word reconnaissance; there was a mutual understanding much like telepathy that allowed them to understand each other.

On the Geldstraat, Kaz and Inej surveyed the lines of expensive mansions and manicured yards. One of the rare places you'd find near-quiet in Ketterdam at midnight - Kaz took solace in these peaceful moments spent with Inej. They tucked themselves in a gazebo on someone's lawn, letting the night do the job of hiding them away. They often spent hours at a time on jobs like this, following whims of Kaz's or whispers Inej had caught, working in autonomy.

Tonight they were watching painting imports. The Ravkan shipment was originally intended to land in Fifth Harbor, a price was to be paid to the city, and a steep tax percentage handed to the Dregs. But a misunderstanding, or more likely a bribe from a competitor had caused the ship to dock in Second Harbor. It had taken Kaz all but a moment to notice, a minute to trace the check to the Dime Lions, and even faster for him to pledge furious retribution. Inej tailed the musclemen all the way to the Crow Club where a few lagers (heavily watered down, because Kaz snatched every cent within reach) and candied words from Jesper yielded the street of delivery.

Kaz was itching to know which merchers had accepted coin from a lowly gang with an expensive painting hanging in balance. Of course, money was money, and who was he to discriminate against where it came from…

"That's a DeKappel!" Inej whispered.

Kaz remained silent. a DeKappel from Ravka was easily worth fifty thousand kruge, maybe a hundred. Whoever had bought these paintings were extremely wealthy men. He and Inej watched carefully as the men hefted three paintings, all identified as Ravkan DeKappels by Inej, to three separate houses on Geldstraat - one with daffodils, one with gardenias, and one with tulips. The day, along with the Wraith's skills, would reveal which of these hardy flowers had braved the weather to belong like one other object to which affluent man.