Chapter Text
10 Kaz
The sun shining through their bedroom window woke him. Dust motes hung suspended in the air like specks of gold. The summer heat would become abyssal in a few hours. Kaz had hung the DeKappel on the opposite wall. Filling the house with things he knew she favored rendered the long hours of Inej’s absence almost bearable.
Inej was back now, he realized, and the last vestiges of sleep left him. She’d picked up her parents, Nina and Hanne, before she’d gone past Kerch to collect Colm. Kaz turned on his side. She looked younger when she was sleeping. More like the girl he’d taught how to fight and less like Captain Ghafa. Her face was mushed in her pillow, and she’d hugged another against her chest. Kaz wondered if she’d done so to keep herself from reaching for him.
Her hair was a wonderful mess. Kaz touched her crown with his fingertips. Nothing bad happened. He released a breath and leaned closer, careful not to justle the bed too much. Inej still smelled like the sea. He let this feeling wash over him, so saccharine it would’ve made his younger self scoff. For a second, he entertained the notion that any part of him deserved any part of her. It was the same as believing in magic, he supposed, he’d become too jaded over the years; still the boy inside of him held on to a tiny piece of hope.
Kaz took a strand of hair between his fingers and slowly tickled the ends over her nose. Inej scrunched up her nose and blinked awake. Kaz didn’t try to hide his mischief, but tugged at her hair, not enough to hurt her, just to irk. Jesper had been right: it could be fun, if they allowed it to be.
“You’re looking lively, this fine morning, Mister Brekker,” Inej said and stretched out her limbs. His mouth went dry as he watched Inej’s throat bob as she swallowed.
“Why wouldn’t I, waking up to such lovely company?” Kaz asked and let go of her hair.
Inej buried her face in her hands and groaned, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“It got me this far.”
A dull noise from somewhere inside the house was heard.
“You’d want to get up before your mother decides we look malnourished and in need of a banquet.” Kaz would not admit to it, but he’d missed the rumble other people made since he’d moved out of the Aery. Their guests were a welcome distraction.
Inej let out another groan, “Why did I bring them again?”
“So, I could try to convince them we lead ordinary civilian lives, while we watch Jesper swirl Wylan around on the dancefloor?”
“The wedding,” Inej said, followed by another illegible comment. Kaz had been afraid the months spent apart would resurrect the walls between them. But his body remembered. They’d slept next to each other. While they had done so on the road or stakeouts, it had never felt the same as sharing a bedroom inside their own home.
“Not until later. We’ll have breakfast before we head over to help them get everything ready.”
Kaz wrapped a strand of her hair between his fingers again, smooth like silk, familiar.
“What are you doing?”
“Reacquainting myself,” Kaz admitted, and drew a tentative line over her clavicle with his index finger. She shuddered. Just to be near, to be close like this, which had been unimaginable for so long was almost better than the kisses.
They got interrupted by a knock on their door. Kaz abruptly sat up against the headboard and Inej suppressed a giggle.
“Inej pahi, you better help me make breakfast before your Papa burns down your kitchen,” Kaz detected the barely contained glee in her mother’s accented voice. The Ghafas had warmed up considerably toward him after four years of being a known constant in their daughter’s life. Though being kept mostly in the dark about Kaz’s and Inej’s dealings didn’t hurt.
“We’ll be right there, Mama,” Inej shouted so loud it made Kaz wince.
“Don’t dawdle,” the Suli woman reprimanded before they heard her retreat from the door.
“Do you regret getting an extra guestroom now?”
Kaz shrugged, “Be glad that was your Ma, if Nina had woken up first, she would’ve walked right in without knocking.”
Inej made a face and sat up. As they got ready together, they took their time to steal glances at each other. Inej got dressed in a dark blue lehenga and a matching gold embroidered choli. Kaz’s three-piece suit toned well with her outfit with its golden cufflinks, a pocket square, and tie of the same sapphire blue. Kaz watched as Inej let her knives disappear under her clothing. It’d been too long. While he’d been separated from her for far longer stretches of time, it never got any easier as Kaz had hoped.
“Will you do my hair?” Inej asked, wrapped her shoulders in her dupatta, and sat down on the bed.
“It would be my pleasure,” Kaz said and took the offered comb. While he braided her hair, Inej checked in with him on what still needed to be done for their house. They had exchanged letters and telegrams while she’d been at sea or port, but the more important things had had to wait for a face-to-face conversation. Kaz, Jesper, and Wylan had taken care of Avercamp and Swanzee while Inej had been away.
“Botan found van Houden’s hiding place,” Kaz eventually said as he fixed the last ribbon and let her braid fall to her back.
Inej’s eyes sparked.
“What do you want us to do about her?” Kaz probed when Inej didn’t answer and placed his hands against her shoulder blades. With the summer heat, her body ran hot under the elaborate stitching. His pulse throbbed inside his palms. Skin to fabric to skin.
“I’ll be home once the frost settles into the Wraith’s sails. I like the idea of a last hunt before business quietens down by the end of the year.” Inej’s voice had never held as much steel as his spider as Captain Ghafa’s did as she spoke now. They’ve both traveled far to get here.
Kaz whispered Heleen van Houden’s whereabouts against her ear. Though Inej hid it better than him, they were both creatures of revenge. Inej turned around to secure his arms around her waist. Slowly, slowly, she got up on tiptoes to brush her lips against his.
“I look forward to it,” Kaz murmured against her parted lips, before he chased her fervor. Kaz held her close without trembling. Inej’s body molded against his. Soft in unexpected ways. She wasn’t walking the wire. He wasn’t sinking. It was more than he could ever have imagined.
Kaz watched Inej over breakfast, let her laughter fill him up with light. Nina and Hanne stumbled in before the skillet bread got cold. They gathered their things in haste and took off shortly after.
Jesper looked like he was about to vibrate out of his sharp saffron suit when he opened the door for them. He’d drawn a line of kohl around his gray eyes which focused his gaze into a thunderstorm.
“Hurry, before Wy sees you and gives you ten different chores to finish before the hour,” Jesper hissed as he pulled them over the threshold of the Van Eck house.
“I just want things to look nice. It’s tradition,” Wylan’s protestations were heard from somewhere inside the house.
“How’s everyone’s favorite couple holding up?” Nina stage-whispered to Colm as they walked through the house to get to the garden. They had erected a large tent. The hired staff had already laid out the cutlery. Judging their stressed-out expressions, Kaz gathered the preparations were running behind schedule.
“Jes is two seconds away from a meltdown, and Wylan, well, see for yourself,” Colm replied between gritted teeth.
Next to the long dining table sat an assortment of large disorderly flower vases with a variety of freshly cut blossoms, where Marya and Wylan were having a heated argument about what flowers to pick for the table bouquets and garlands. Inej let out a low hum as she took in the flowers on display. Kaz was well aware of how much Inej had been looking forward to that particular Kerch tradition. Fabrics and colorful paper were expensive, using flowers as festive decorations was relatively affordable throughout all the social classes of the island. Friends and family would gather and arrange whatever they thought suitable for the eloping couple. A whole language lay hidden behind each flower and color. Inej had wanted to learn more about their symbolism ever since she’d known Wylan and Jesper wanted to take part.
Nina came to the rescue by folding Wylan into a crushing embrace. Kaz suppressed a smile. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed his friend: Nina, who was brash and boisterous but gentle and funny too.
“You look marvelous, Wy. You have to tell me who tailored your suit so I can pay them a visit before we leave. Hanne would look so handsome in a similar cut,” Nina said with a bright smile and patted Wylan’s hip. He brushed furiously but was distracted enough to step away from his mother. Nina winked at Hanne and Kaz rolled his eyes.
Kaz walked closer and let his gloved fingers flutter over the two bouquets Marya and Wylan had tried to put together. Pretty, but crooked and disproportioned in places. It would not do. He exchanged a look with Wylan in a silent request to do better. The groom pursed his lips and nodded.
“I know you prefer knives,” Kaz said and offered Inej some geraniums. She took them with a smile. His long fingers returned to the flower vases and plucked at a yellow tulip, remembering Matthias, and the infinite fields of his childhood. A second tulip was the color of spilled blood. Its petals shone like waxed paper, too delicate for his gloves to brush against.
He met Nina’s gaze, her smile frozen on her face. She gave a curd nod. Small, insignificant to everyone else.
“Kaz, are tulips your favorite flowers?” Inej asked, and Nina looked away. The moment gone. But she had given him something, Kaz realized, the same permission to remember, he had sought out with the remaining Crows over the last years.
Inej clutched the offered geraniums to her chest like other girls would hang on to jewelry. He could not keep her waiting. Kaz stepped back from the vases and lowered his gloved hands.
“Men don’t have a favorite flower,” Kaz said and gave Marya and Wylan’s attempted flower arrangement another critical look.
“That’s absolute rubbish,” Wylan disagreed.
“Enlighten me, dear Wylan, what’s yours?” Kaz deflected and watched Inej swirl the red geraniums at the stem.
Wylan blushed and opened his mouth, “Sunflowers for Wylan van Sunshine,” Jesper cut in before Wylan could answer.
Marya promptly took a few by the stem and offered them to Wylan to be added to the attempted bouquet. While Jesper continued to flirt, Wylan added jurda blossoms for him. Going with their intuition, Wylan put the supposed symbolism of the blossoms aside as they each got to choose something. They decorated the long dining table and hung up the garlands inside the tent.
When they were finished, they got ready to leave the house for the Stadhalle. Before Kaz and Inej went to catch up with the others, Inej put a tulip through the bottomhole on the lapel of Kaz’s suit, the rim of its petals were so dark they almost appeared black, but down in its center a smidge of the faintest pink hid.
“There’s a fungus that infects the bulbs that produces these fractal patterns,” Kaz explained to her.
“How come you know so much about tulips?” Inej asked with a frown.
It would be easy to lie, easier than telling the truth. He started walking to catch up with the others, who were already getting inside the coaches that would get them to the Stadhalle.
“My family didn’t just grow corn,” Kaz explained, trusting her to keep up beside him.
Inej didn’t get to answer, as Marya told them to hurry, but he could feel her questioning gaze the whole duration of their ride.
The sun had reached its highest point when they went inside the Stadhalle. The heat was stifling and Kaz was glad the Kerch had merged zealous bureaucracy with religious ritual. An attorney held the short ceremony and gave Jesper and Wylan’s union Ghezen’s blessing. From his vantage point behind Jesper, Kaz saw him fidget with his fingers. So nervous, and at once stilled when Wylan laid his hand over his before they kissed.
The grooms and their witnesses signed the needed paperwork. For an instant, Kaz’s gloved hand hovered over the line where his signature needed to go. His greedy little heart knew Jesper would never belong to him as when it had just been the two of them against the rest of the city, before Inej, Fjerda, before Wylan. His friends had given Kaz more than he could’ve asked for, and Ghezen knew he asked for much. Shouldn’t he give something back in return? Jesper had needed honesty. It neither felt like a sacrifice nor an admission to his own weakness to sign the document with Kaz Rietveld.
Inej watched over his shoulder. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. The urge to reach for her hand was there but out in the open, under the watchful gaze of strangers, it felt wrong to follow his new instinct.
“A truth for a truth, Kaz?” Inej asked as they walked behind the newly wedded couple down to their coaches. She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the blazing sun.
“What is it?” Kaz replied, his mind filing away the minute details around them. He’d never seen Wylan smile so openly in a day, had never witnessed Jesper become so grounded through a simple look or touch by his new husband. It was easy to imagine the same equilibrium between Inej and himself.
“If we ever get married, I want you to take my name,” Inej said, low enough so Nina and Hanne wouldn’t overhear.
“It’s not that bad,” Kaz argued with a frown.
“It doesn’t suit you,” Inej decided and shook her head with an expression like she had tasted something sour. Kaz was fluent enough in Ravkan by now to understand her when she pulled his name apart in translation: “Riding field. Don’t tell me you also bred horses.”
“No,” he said and laughed loud enough Nina’s and Hanne’s heads turned.
“Inej Rietveld doesn’t have the same ring as Kaz Ghafa. It’s not like you’d use the name when you do business anyway, and people refer to me as Captain Ghafa of the Wraith.”
People refer to you as Sankta Inej, Kaz swallowed the remark. It was still a nickname she particularly despised. Kaz was looking forward to discovering more of Inej’s little quirks, her ideas, likes, and inexplicable dislikes in the years to come. It felt good to know she was comfortable enough around him to speak her mind about the smallest things.
“So, we’re in agreement?”
“It would appear we are,” Inej raised her eyebrows at him and smiled. The corners of his mouth lifted. Suli weddings could go on for days. Kaz wondered what kind of ceremony Inej might prefer, because one day he’d get to propose. He knew it with the same certainty the moon called for the tide.
“Very well, my darling Captain Ghafa,” Kaz interlinked his arm with hers. He could feel how Nina’s gaze prickled at the base of his neck as she reassessed them.
The congregation left for the real celebration of Jesper and Wylan’s union. More friends and colleagues of the couple arrived after them at the house. At dinner, Kaz seized the opportunity to catch up with Nina and Hanne. He hadn’t seen Nina since the Ice Court and letters were a poor substitute for real conversation.
Something about Hanne made Kaz’s instincts perk up. There was a story there, a secret left undiscussed in letters and open to probing now that Kaz had Hanne and Nina at his investigative nature’s mercy.
“Let it slide for now,” Inej whispered next to him and kicked his good leg under the table. She’d read his minute expression and followed his gaze like a nautical chart. Kaz pinched her knee under the table in repayment.
“I won’t.”
“I know,” Inej said sotto voce and took a sip of her chilled wine.
Nina brushed her napkin against her lips and leaned back in her seat.
“Since when do you guys do that,” Nina gestured with her fork between them. Kaz froze where his gloved index finger and thumb were still on Inej’s knee. From Nina’s vantage point above the tabletop things had to look incrementally more exciting.
“I told you-” Inej began while Nina took another bite of her waffles.
“And I want to hear it from him,” she replied while Kaz masked his face in annoyance and took a steadying breath. Sweat dampened Kaz’s stiff collar and made his gloves feel rubbery. He wanted Nina’s approval, he could admit as much inside his head, but that didn’t mean he invited her judgment of every aspect of their relationship.
“You’re snooping,” Hanne said and patted Nina’s leg, mirroring them.
“A while,” Kaz swallowed his pride.
“Really?” The way Nina looked at him made his skin crawl; it cut right down to the bone. Her doubt was justified, he’d brushed Nina off whenever she’d started snooping around for the latest gossip. Being scrutinized like that, on a day like this, where he was surrounded by strangers and hadn’t planned any moves in advance made it difficult to not immediately lash out at her.
“Nina,” he began with no idea how to finish. Kaz was saved by the bell, when Wylan and Jesper signaled the musicians to get ready for their first dance.
Nina gave Kaz a look that meant she wasn’t done discussing the matter. They finished up their desserts, before they got up and gathered at the center of the garden to watch Jesper and Wylan’s first dance as a married couple.
Colm ran around with a handheld camera, setting up picture after picture with a manic grin on his face that made his relation to Jesper become even more evident. Marya, who’d held bravely on until now, started crying. Alys patted her shoulder while they watched Jesper guide Wylan through a few elaborate swirls. They looked enraptured with each other. Wylan, who bashfully fumbled his way through most of his social engagements, and hid his smiles like he was afraid someone might steal them, beamed up at Jesper, as he guided them over the freshly cut lawn.
Anika grabbed Inej’s hand and dragged her to the dancefloor. Kaz was content to watch from the sidelines for a while. They’d be up for hours, and he needed to give his leg as much of a rest as possible. Kaz fiddled with the tulip on his lapel and looked around for the familiar faces of his gang. He knew everyone in attendance, even liked some of Jesper’s and Wylan’s mundane friends.
Clouds started to gather on the horizon, low and stifling. It made him feel like they were sitting in a conservatory. More and more people were tempted to dance. Keeping his distance was getting increasingly difficult as time passed, and the drinks kept coming. Kaz trained his eyes on Inej, Wylan, and Jes. When Nina came up next to him, he pretended not to notice.
“You’re looking out for them.”
“They’re our people, Zenik,” Kaz drawled and took a sip from his drink, the condensation of his glass made it feel like he was holding onto a dead fish. While most Kerch stuffed their calendars full of parties and outings in summer, Kaz wished for cool reprieve. He was cooking in his suit. Jes and Wy had already pulled off their jackets and rolled up their sleeves.
Nina shook her head, “You’ve changed a lot, you know.”
“I’m still the bastard you know and despise.”
Nina let out a laugh, “Aww, you’ll always have a special place in my heart, Kaz.”
Kaz didn’t talk for a while but was content to finish his champagne. Nina let out a sigh. It was a game they’d play all day. It felt like going through his closet and putting on a suit jacket he hadn’t worn in a while. He’d remember why he’d chosen the cut and why he liked to wear the piece in the first place.
“You and Hanne have plans to elope as well. Will I have to address you with a royal title soon?” Kaz said. A cool breeze was picking up and darker clouds gathered on the horizon. He flattened his tie. The hair at the nape of his neck was plastered to his skin with sweat.
“Better not, your Fjerdan is terrible.”
“Liar, it’s good enough to make people do what I want on the other side of the world,” Kaz said and put down his empty glass, before he picked up a new champagne flute from a passing server, mostly to have something to steady his hands.
“Sadly, it doesn’t take much with politicians these days,” Nina said and let out another laugh. Kaz followed her gaze to where Hanne was attempting to teach the Crows what looked like a stiff traditional Fjerdan court dance. Inej’s lehenga billowed in the sudden wind that had picked up.
“All these blushing brides and handsome husbands,” Kaz began, testing the waters, “a man could get ideas.” Kaz watched Inej throw back her head and laugh as she almost collided with Wylan on the dance floor.
“Ideas are nothing but pending actions, Brekker,” Nina replied, before she pinned him down with her gaze, “I’m the Corpsewitch. I’ll make you regret ever laying eyes on her, if you hurt her.”
“Promises, promises,” Kaz said and took a sip of cool champagne.
The first drop of rain hit his head. Dark spots appeared on Nina’s light dress.
“I certainly didn’t miss island-weather,” Nina said and looked scornful at the low-hanging clouds. Electricity hung in the air, ready to shatter with the first strike of lightning.
“We don’t all fit under the tent,” Kaz said over the low rumble of thunder in the distance.
“Don’t look so glum. A bit of rain might sober everyone up,” Nina replied and Kaz snorted.
A few people screamed and even more threw their hands over their heads and started running for shelter like headless chickens. The sudden downpour that followed was one only an island in summer could produce. Inej, Wylan, Jesper, and Hanne looked flush from the exertion of dance and drink, when they caught up with Kaz and Nina. They swiftly crossed the yard to shelter under the tent.
Water dipped down Kaz’s hairline and into his collar. He suppressed a shiver.
“Hey,” Inej said when their bodies brushed against each other. The air was so humid under the tent roof it stuck in a sheen to Kaz’s face and under his gloves.
Someone staggered against his shoulder from behind in their hurry to escape the rain. Inej steadied him with an iron grip around his arm. A child started to wail. Beetja, the little bug. Alys began to make hushing noises at her. Kaz tightened the grip around his cane. Jesper and Wylan were loudly complaining about the weather. Jesper’s sharp elbow dug into Kaz’s side.
The rain wouldn’t let up. Suddenly it became harder to breathe.
Inej had no saints for drowned men and still she kept him afloat when the floodgates opened inside his mind. Contrary to what Kaz let Inej believe, he had studied her saints with an odd sense of curiosity. Faith eluded him. Kaz learned about Saint Vladimir the Foolish who had allegedly built the sea bridge to Os Kervo and drowned for his efforts. And he knew about Sankta Ursula of the Waves who sailors’ wives prayed to so their husbands would return safely home. Yet there were no saints for the drowning, those people like him who were forever gasping for air, lost at sea.
One day Kaz had realized he had lived longer without Jordie than he had lived in his company. At merely eighteen. And time could not be stopped. Jordie and he were two lines that would not converge again, forever drifting apart, onward and onward, between remembrance and forgetting.
Jesper laughed and his elbow dug against Kaz’s spine. Kaz couldn’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Not on a day that meant so much to the people he loved. He squeezed his eyes shut.
“Talk to me,” Kaz said to Inej. A chill settled into his bones. His shoulders pulled in.
“Tulips, Kaz? I wonder what my Papa will say when I tell him I know my man’s favorite flower.”
He opened his eyes and let his gaze drop to the middle distance above Inej’s shoulder. He needed to focus on the presence of his Crows, the solid earth below his feet.
“You can ask him right away, he’s standing over there,” Kaz indicated the direction with a stilted nod. Over the commotion of the guests, the downpour, and the panicked ringing inside his ears he could barely make out his own reply. No one else seemed to have noticed his anxiety. Kaz was a master at pretending, on going unnoticed while his thoughts slipped. Too much practice, he supposed.
“But I can’t distract you from over there, Shevrati.”
“I’m sure you could think of something.”
Inej laughed and tugged at his cuffs until he started moving. His steps felt hollow, like the ground underneath had turned to cotton. Cold water ran down his face in rivulets.
“Where are we going?”
Inej guided him with a hand between his shoulder blades. Kaz schooled his face in easy indifference. He did not need to start a rumor that could potentially threaten his authority, if others saw. Of all things to go wrong today, it had to be the weather. Maybe the Council of Tides was taking it out on them.
“Someplace dry,” Inej answered as they reached the back door of the house. He stumbled over the threshold. The metal of his cane was slippery under his grip.
Inej pulled him along. He pressed his back against the kitchen wall. Squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, while he tried to even out his breaths.
A server brushed past them.
“Kaz?” Inej angled her body to shield him. Both her hands went to his shoulder. To the uninformed observer, it would look like she was steadying herself instead of the other way around. The server closed the door behind them with a bang. Kaz pulled out of Inej’s grip. He swallowed the apology on the tip of his tongue. Nothing would be gained by it.
Beetja let out another wail. Kaz winced.
“Follow me,” Inej said. When they reached Wylan and Jesper’s study, they could no longer hear the people outside. The only noise was the rain against the windowpane.
“Kaz, are you worried Jesper will no longer spend time with you now that he and Wy are married?” Her voice filled the space between him and the rest of the world.
“He reminds me too much of Jordie sometimes. They’re… fickle.” Kaz gestured with his hands.
Inej gave him a disapproving look, run that by me again.
“It’s hard to look at Jes when he’s this happy. They laugh in the same manner, using their whole body.” It wasn’t easy to explain, even though they had shared similar conversations.
In the end, it always felt good to talk about Jordie. What he’d been like. His jokes. How he had taken care of Kaz, brought him hot chocolate, and teased him like only a brother could. It helped to recall him as more than a nightmare but a whole flawed thirteen-year-old boy. Jordie deserved his love. He deserved to be remembered by more than one person. Kaz couldn’t shove him aside and hide him away, when he remained such a big part of his being.
Kaz had surrounded himself with good people, with family. On days like this, he could accept them, almost believe his presence wasn’t a detriment, a poison that seeped into everything his marred hands touched. Maybe on another day like this, he could start to forgive Jordie for leaving him behind. Kaz wasn’t alone anymore, not as frightened, not as broken. It no longer choked him to think of forgiving himself too, for not having been awake when Jordie had passed, for being unable to save him. Kaz imagined he had fewer regrets than most men of his caliber for taking this path. He would learn to live with them.
“You remember him well,” Inej said.
He remembered his old family by ribbing Jes, by looking out for him. By taking his coffee like his Da had done, black but with a spoonful of honey. By taking Wylan out for endless cups of hot chocolate. By putting flowers onto Inej’s nightstand like his Da had done when his Ma had fallen ill. He had his past and his present ties. Kaz wouldn’t drown, wouldn’t sink, or shipwreck. Some days the joy outnumbered the hurt.
“Thank you for letting me remember it all,” Kaz said and stepped closer. Inej didn’t move, in her infinite patience, with her own sense of precaution. Kaz put his arms around her.
“Thank you for letting me try this too,” Inej whispered against his chest. Kaz leaned down to brush a kiss against the top of her head.
“The deal is the deal.” Slowly, the vice around his chest loosened. The panic subsided and the world around him grew in size. The rain would stop in a while, and Kaz would take her hand and rejoin the others to look at the fireworks Wylan had put together.