Jess locked gazes with Thomas, and Thomas gave a rolling shrug. A very German sort of move, and it made Jess feel a slow burn of satisfaction. This could work. He nodded to Thomas.
"Acceptable," the other young man said. Looking at him, Jess could suddenly see the Scholar he'd one day become-sure, centered, deliberate and calm, and sharply intelligent. A great man, if they survived this. "I will make you a list of what we need."
Beck laughed. It sounded barren. "You may make all the lists you like, my boy. We have what we have, and you will make do, as we all must. I will write to your father, Brightwell. If there is something you need that can't be crafted here, we'll send to him for it. He might feel inclined to gift us with it, if he knows his son's life is at risk with the rest of us."
Maybe. Jess's brother Liam had died dangling from a noose in London and was buried in an unmarked grave as a nameless book smuggler. Da could have saved him. Da hadn't bothered, because getting caught was, in his world, a mortal sin.
Jess was caught, too. The trick was letting Beck think he wasn't.
It seemed the agreement had been reached, and Jess allowed his shoulders to relax just a little . . . and a little too soon, because Beck suddenly said, "One more thing. You're aware that Captain Santi once commanded troops outside these walls?"
"Did he?" Jess asked. And shrugged. He wasn't about to answer that. He'd hoped that Beck didn't know the identities of the many, many High Garda captains who'd camped out there in the dark.
"He is to sit with my guard captain, Indira, and map out for her everything he knows of the Library camps. Troop strengths, placement of tents, routines. Everything."
He's not going to do that. Jess knew it instantly. Santi might turn his back on the Library, but betray other High Garda? Never.
The next instant, he thought, But he might like the chance to lie his head off about it, though. And so he let a second pass before he said, without any change of tone or expression, "I'll pass along your request."
"It wasn't a request."
Jess stared back without saying anything. There was something about Beck that reminded him, strongly, of his father. It wasn't a happy comparison, and he had no issue at all waiting the man out. He knew his father got impatient when faced with silence.
And sure enough, so did Beck. "I'll expect his attendance in the morning," Beck said. "Tell him to report to Indira. If he isn't there at dawn, he'll be dragged along in chains."
"Everyone except us will be with you here tomorrow," Thomas said. "The Scholars and Morgan will begin to translate these books. And that earns the bread we take from you, yes?"
"Your soldier girl-Wathen, is it? Wathen is of no use to me," Beck began, and Thomas cut him right off.
"Squad Leader Glain Wathen is Scholar Seif's personal guard. She stays with her. Protocol."
That was a truly excellent lie, and Jess had to admire it; he'd simultaneously made Khalila mysteriously important and given Glain status, too. Beck might have some information, but surely not enough. They only had to work around his preconceptions.
Beck let out an offended little huff and tugged his jacket down. "Protocol!"
"Consider that it's for your own protection," Jess said. "One of your men insulted Scholar Seif, and she's not in a forgiving mood."
"If Seif is so touchy, she can stay in her cell!"
///
Thomas suddenly clapped shut the book he had open in his hand. It was a shockingly loud sound, and he got to his feet in the startled silence. "She is properly addressed as Scholar Seif, and if you want your books translated, you need her above all the others," he said. "Your man laid hands on her. Don't ever do it again."
"Oh, threats now? You must fancy yourself dangerous," Beck said.
Jess raised his eyebrows and looked at Thomas. "Do we?"
"Occasionally," Thomas said gravely.
For the first time, Beck lost his temper. He slammed both hands down on his desk, sending papers scattering. "This is not a matter for your amusement, you spoiled children! You think it's easy to keep my people safe, fed, housed, and warmed with the Library bombing our city with regularity? Now, shut up and appreciate my forbearance, or you might not enjoy quite such special treatment in the future!"
Jess opened his mouth to reply but shut it when Thomas shook his head. Best to let him have this, he realized. We have what we need.
Thomas bowed, the picture of calm. He made it seem easy. "Thank you," he said.