Both Stillwater and Gunnar know that Peregrine must be the expert the gang is using. The chafing on his ankle is red-raw, and they have not allowed him to eat much either. It might take a while for him to recover at Abbot Kamil’s healing shrine.

Stillwater heads over to the chain and sees that it is welded on to Peregrine’s foot. Walking over to the table, she snaps off the rusty metal leg and slips the chain off.

“That will have to do for now,” Stillwater calls out. “Lone, could you come up here?”

Hearing footsteps, Lone’s face appears. “Well, I do not see that every day.”

“How is Pela going, Halfy?” Gunnar asks.

With a small grunt, Lone says. “She is fine, just something weird that happened. I will have to ask Way later.”

Letting that drop, Gunnar gives Peregrine a potion. “Drink this. It will not taste nice but will help with the pain.”

Peregrine nods and drinks it down, grimacing. “You’re right, not nice.”

“We’ll take you to Abbot Kamil’s shrine now. Later there might be someone coming around to ask questions,” Stillwater says, still holding the table up.

Dr Young nods, and his eyes droop. “We need to move him now,” Gunnar says.

“Solo, grab the doctor, and I’ll follow as soon as you all leave.” Stillwater gestures to the table with all the chemicals bubbling.

They all move out, with Peregrine in Lone’s arms. Stillwater picks up the leg and shoves it under the table. She would prefer to smash everything here, but that would not be a bright idea. Being around WayWocket all these years has been a great learning experience.

Below, Gunnar is directing Pela, and Ripple is stretching and yawning. “Time to go. The first stop is the shrine and then off to Klaus’ house,” Stillwater says, joining them. She pauses. “We will drop off Pela at the Hall on the way.”

🔹️🔹️🔹️

After dropping off Peregrine at the shrine, Pela at the Hall and picking up WayWocket, the Rejects head towards Klaus’ shop on Storage Street, just north of the docks. Gunnar relays what happened and the state of the doctor to WayWocket.

Way cocks his head. “See, see, I told you. The poison will seep into your body and cause harm.”

Gunnar nods his agreement but turns, hearing a ruckus behind him. Ripple and Caw are running around, playing with each other. Gunnar yells out, “Oi, you two stop that.” Then WayWocket notices the commotion and joins in. “Bloody typical.”

Lone and Stillwater see the incident and both laugh, allowing the stress of the last encounter to flitter away. The road to Klaus’ warehouse isn’t too busy as it is late afternoon, the sun dipping beyond the skyline. A few rainclouds are hanging around, but a brisk breeze is pushing them away.

Lone interrupts the silence. “I am glad it did not rain today. It would have made this a miserable day.”

Stillwater nods, her mind returning to Lone hugging Pela. Gunnar senses the mood. “’Cos it wasn’t going to rain, idiot Halfy. Still a few weeks off until the kick off to rainy season.”

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Stillwater lets the insult slip, even though Lone looks at her, hoping that she’ll step in. He then retorts, “I know that. I was just making small talk.”

“Hmph, couldn’t you think of a better small talk subject, white-bred?” Gunnar sneers.

Stillwater again ignores the exchange, realising that they’ve arrived at the storefront. “We’re here. No insults in front of our employer.”

Gunnar chuckles under his breath. Lone sighs and they enter the store, leaving Ripple, Caw and WayWocket to play outside. A small bell announces their entry, the room scented with musk and freshly cut oak and maple.

“Such beautiful pieces, aren’t they?”

A low timbre voice carries from behind a curtain. Pulling it aside, Klaus appears in a leather apron with a hammer and chisel at his belt.

“Master Handwerk, we have discovered who was forging the cutlery,” Stillwater declares.

Looking pleased, Klaus exclaims, “That is fantastic news. Give me one minute and I’ll grab a notebook.”

Nodding, he returns and hands the notebook over to Stillwater. She starts to write down all the information, the people involved and the location of the forge used to make the new alloy cutlery.

“Just wondering,” Klaus says, looking at what Stillwater has written, “do you happen to know the person or people who stole and replaced the silverware?”

Gunnar steps in. “Unfortunately no, but I would tell the Count to keep an eye on the docks as they must be planning to smuggle the silver out soon.”

“A pity. Could your alchemist come back later, so we could talk about this alloy? With a few adjustments, we could make it a newer but cheaper alternative to silverware,” Klaus says gleefully, clapping his hands together.

After a nod from Stillwater, Lone goes over to the door and opens it. “Hey, Way, we need you in here.”

WayWocket is nowhere to be seen, but his voice can be heard from under the fur pile of Ripple and Caw. “I am here, coming.” He appears from beneath the cat and dog, smiling from ear to ear. “Pure needs me.”

Lone shakes his head. How does he always know? “Yes, she does.”

They have become used to his nicknames. Dawn is much better than Lone Solo. The small, crazy gnome skips up to Stillwater and says, “I am here, Pure Heart. What is the boggle?”

“Klaus would like to know how to make the alloy safe, as it has promise for mid-range cutlery,” Stillwater explains.

Cocking his head, WayWocket’s tone drops. “I have a few ideas if, on top of our fee, you become my patron. I will develop this metal for your use only.”

Klaus’ eyes light up, the others are forgotten. “What would you need to set this up?”

Scratching his cheek, WayWocket replies, “A lab near you, chemicals and other materials. I figure that they are just dipped in silver and allowed to drain. A small fraction of their yield. My idea needs more specification.”

Spitting on his hand, Klaus holds it out. “Done!”

WayWocket does the same and shakes Klaus’ hand, but afterwards pours ethanol onto his palm.

Stillwater steps forward. “This is beyond the scope of the job. You offered five thousand slips, and either myself or Lone were to arrange a meeting with a high official for you to relay the information.” She glances at Gunnar, who mouths ‘patents’. “With the patents for this alloy, you owe the Rejects another two thousand slips” she continues. “With the lab, which we will guard when off the job, I ask for one hundred slips a week for each of us and four hundred a week for Way. Do you agree?”

A grimace crosses Klaus’ face. “Fine, seven thousand now, one hundred for you guarding the lab and four hundred to WayWocket.”

Gunnar steps forward. “One hundred for each of us to guard, which will be the three of us.” He turns to WayWocket, “How long will it take?”

Way looks up, thinking. “Three months and I have the choice to buy the lab from you at the end.”

Everyone nods. “I’ll have a Blue representative come over with the contract tomorrow,” Gunnar says, “but we’ll take the seven thousand now. And we’ll get you that meeting with the Count a day or two from today.”

Klaus' eyes widen in surprise. “The Count? A day or two?”

“This is important,” Stillwater says. “He should be the first to know, and we’ll make sure he knows it was your idea and your information we worked off.”

Klaus heads over and opens a safe in a secret trapdoor, pulling out stacks of slips. WayWocket walks over with his bag and puts all the money inside. The bag appears virtually empty, but the team know it is a magik bottomless bag made by WayWocket himself.

Everyone smiles, handshakes all around, and the Rejects head back to the Hall to celebrate.