Kaz had been impressed with the sketches. “You think like a lockpick,” he’d told Wylan. “I do not.” “I mean you can see space along three axes.” “I’m not a criminal,” Wylan protested. Kaz had cast him an almost pitying look. “No, you’re a flautist who fell in with bad company.” Jesper sat down next to Wylan. “Just learn to take a compliment. Kaz doesn’t hand them out often.”
