Chapter Text
Over the next few days, Inej again found herself without a heading. She hadn't seen Kaz since the morning he tried to teach her to pick a lock. A few of the usual suspects around the Slat were also missing. Maybe they were away on a bigger job for the gang. So, she tried to keep herself busy by honing the skills she'd been taught.
She practiced knife throwing in the morning when the light was best. She leaped over railings and scaled walls in the afternoon and ran until her lungs hurt. At night, she tested herself to see how far she could make it away from the Slat by keeping in the shadows. If a lamp was lit outside a shop, she climbed up around the building to avoid the warm cast of light it threw out onto the street. When someone crossed over a bridge carrying a lantern, she hung off the side, toes skimming the surface of the canal, until they passed.
It was the first time she had really seen the city of Ketterdam.
To the visitors of the Menagerie, the exterior of the building only looked like a a gilded cage, but to the girls employed there, it actually was one. In all the months she was kept captive there, Inej had escaped the premises only once, but she hadn't gotten very far before she was hauled back and beaten within an inch of her life.
Now, from the rooftops, she withheld the city in all its uneven, beautiful, stinking glory.
No two corners of Ketterdam were the same. The Geldstraat reeked of old money, of merchers who were born into wealth and lived only to make more of it. Their homes were stately and grand and the streets were spacious and bright. Adversely, the edge of the warehouse district was where the poorest in the city lived in tiny tin-roofed huts that were barely standing. Inej didn't particularly like either of these areas, but she visited them all the same so she could learn the city better.
Inej wanted to see it all. At first, the bustle of the city was almost too much to take in. There were so many people that it was no wonder that the houses were jam-packed together and crowded with as many residents as the structures could hold. She was glad that she was able to take to the rooftops and speed past the crowds, figuring out the fastest routes around the city and finding shortcuts that she would have never noticed from street level. It was lonely work, but she liked being left to her own devices. And she could feel herself getting stronger.
One evening, just before she was about to head out for another night of traversing the rooftops and hiding in the darkness, she noticed Kaz looking down at her from the second-floor landing of the Slat. He caught her eye and tilted his head up the stairs. It was an invitation.
Inej knew better than to snub him, so she went where she was called.
It was getting late, meaning the Slat was absolutely packed with people. She maneuvered around throngs of them on the stairs, cautiously watching the back of Kaz's head as he slowly ascended the steps. He reached the third floor and entered the only door at the top. No one ever followed him there unless they were specifically asked. Still, Inej followed him through.
“Shut the door.”
It was the first time she had been in Kaz's attic room. She didn't know what she had expected, but it hadn't been a tiny room with a precariously slanted ceiling and a ramshackle desk covered in stacked piles of paper. She thought being higher up in the gang would have given him a better standard of living than the rest of them, but apparently not. There was no luxury here.
He stepped in front of her and locked the door with a key.
Inej instantly recoiled in fear and her heart began to pound. Memories of the Menagerie came flooding back. She remembered the men who had come to her chamber and demanded everything from her. They had bought her, so they believed they were free to do whatever they liked to her. But Kaz had made it clear that Per Haskell hadn't bought her, at least, not for the reasons she imagined. He hadn't said anything about himself. It had been stupid of her to believe anything Kaz had told her. Naive. Why else would a man bring her to his bedroom?
She couldn't breathe. She took a step back and bumped against a chair. She was trapped again. Of course this place would be no better than the Menagerie. How could she have thought any differently? Everything could be bought and sold in this wretched city. And everyone.
“Now, pay attention,” Kaz was instructing. He hadn't turned back around to face her. Hadn't seen the panic and fear in her eyes.
Inej's eyes flitted back to the door handle and with a jolt, she saw Kaz's hands holding his picks. His bare hands. All at once, Inej's mind stopped whirring. The horrible memories faded from her mind and air once more returned to her lungs.
Kaz hadn't brought her to his room for anything... like that. He was still just trying to teach her the intricacies of lock picking. She would have laughed in relief had the sight of his gloveless hands not been so completely shocking.
She stared at his bare hands working at the lock on his own door, unable to focus on what his fingers were actually doing. She'd heard the rumors flying from every nook and cranny in the Slat and many a member of the Dregs. They loved to speculate wildly about Kaz's hands when he wasn't around to overhear them. It was sort of a running joke among the gang. Usually, the drunker they got, the more outlandish and unbelievable their stories became.
“He has a skin condition,” one of them had said. “It's horrid unsightly. Even he can't stand the sight of it.”
“That's not true! It's because he's allergic to the sun. If his skin sees daylight he'll immediately break out in hives. That's why he always wears a hat and coat if he's out during the day.”
“No, no, his hands are possessed to kill anyone around them. It's like they've got a mind of their own! His gloves were made by a fabrikator who fused them to his skin so they'll never come off and reawaken the curse. If you think he's ruthless now, you better hope you're never around him if his gloves come off!”
But from what she could see, Kaz's hands looked relatively normal. He had finished with the lock and was now waiting on her expectantly.
Inej cleared her throat, trying to find her voice again after her moment of panic. “Can you show me just one more time?”
He obliged her, locking the door once again and beginning to work at it again with his picks. It came so easy to him, as if he had done it a million times. He probably had. The lock clicked open again and Kaz glanced back at her, questioningly. Inej was running out of excuses to avoid the lock any longer.
“Now you try,” he insisted.
He removed the picks from the lock and handed them to her. They were still warm from the heat of his fingers. She mentally debunked another rumor she had heard about Kaz being cold-blooded. For all his cruelty, his blood ran as warm and human as the rest of them. She stepped forward to the door and Kaz moved aside to observe her technique from a distance. Maybe he thought the space would put less pressure on her this time.
Inej took a deep breath, as if preparing to dunk her head underwater, then began to work at the lock. She took her time, strengthened by the fact that Kaz was halfway across the room and not breathing down her neck to scrutinize her every move. She kept tension on the wrench and poked cautiously upwards, trying to feel each of the pins sliding up as they clicked into place as if a regular key had kept them there. A few minutes later, the bolt remarkably slid open.
“I did it!” She exclaimed in delighted surprise. She looked back at Kaz with a triumphant grin on her face.
“Good.” It was a rare word of praise, even though it was the barest minimum he could have said. His expression was mostly unreadable as ever, but she could have sworn she saw a satisfied glint in his eyes for just a second. “Now do it again.”
And after that, Kaz kept her around more often.
The jobs started simply enough, as if Kaz was attempting to break her in slowly. She joined him the next night for a stakeout on a mercher mansion. They'd sat on an adjacent roof, passing a long glass between them, waiting for the man inside to make a move. But nothing happened and when the horizon began to lighten, they headed back to the Slat, famished and yawning. Maybe he had been testing her to see if she could stay up all night and keep her concentration during a slow, but necessary job. But she'd had more than her share of all-nighters at the Menagerie. It was no test at all
When Kaz needed to collect money that Per Haskell was owed, he took her with him. Most of the men they visited gave up whatever money they could when Kaz darkened their door. Those who couldn't were left bleeding and spitting teeth. It wasn't pretty, but at least he hadn't ordered Inej be the one to hurt them. When he met members of rival gangs for parleys, he stationed her on the rooftops, just as a precaution. If he was gathering information on a particular member of the merchant council or the head of a big company, Inej accompanied him for hours of doing nothing else besides simply watching.
It came as a shock to realize how boring some of their jobs could be. She thought being in one of the famous gangs of the Barrel would mean shootouts every night and coming home with a split lip or bruised knuckles every morning. A few weeks after being at Kaz's side, she realized she'd spent more time perched on a gabled rooftop keeping her eyes trained on rich merchers than she'd spent doing anything else. But that was because spying required patience and knowing the right time to make a move, as Kaz had told her. He had a reputation stained with blood and violence, but that was only a small fraction of what he did on a daily basis. Most of his time was spent meticulously planning out upcoming jobs and giving orders to the rest of the Dregs. Sometimes, he almost seemed... normal.
At first, it was shocking to catch Kaz doing something mundane, like eating toast and drinking coffee, or sneezing when he opened a dusty book. Those were parts of himself he kept hidden, though it would seem like the most normal thing in the world to anyone else. It was just part of his mythology. The rest of the Dregs had built him up to the point that he seemed like a mysterious, shadowy character in a tale told around a campfire. She had even heard these types of rumors about him from the girls at the Menagerie. Kaz Brekker was a tale told so often that the story changed with every retelling so it had become impossible to decipher what was true and what was embellishment. Sometimes it was hard to remember he was just as human as she was.
It was also a fact that she had to remind herself of after she witnessed him shatter the windpipe of an unfortunate man who couldn't come up with the kruge he owed Per Haskell. With blood spattered across his face, Kaz hadn't looked so human at that moment.
The first time Inej ran with his crew on a big job, Kaz had only told them the barest minimum of his plan and then left immediately to put it into motion. Inej felt woefully unprepared and tapped her foot against the ground in annoyance while the rest of the crew waited in a narrow alley, perfectly at ease.
“He could tell us a little more about what we're actually supposed to be doing here,” she grumbled to Jesper, who was leaning against a brick wall, hands on his revolvers.
But the sharpshooter just grinned. “That's Kaz's way. Just trust him. He knows what he's doing.”
“Trust him?” She asked incredulously. “How can you trust him? All he does is lie and swindle people and steal!”
Jesper shrugged. “Not to us. At least, not when it's in our best interests. Just be glad you're on his side in all this.”
“Trust,” she snorted again. “Trust him blindly and stupidly.”
“Well, I don't think you're any of those things, Inej,” a low voice rasped from above her.
Inej gulped like a fish and looked up to see Kaz peering down at them from an open window of the storehouse they were loitering next to. He wondering how much of her conversation with Jesper he had overheard.
Kaz let his gaze linger on her a moment longer, just to watch her squirm uncomfortably. Then he shifted his attention to the rest of the group.
“The Razor Gulls should be here any minute. Everyone know what they're doing?”
Barely, Inej thought as the rest of the Dregs gave their affirmations.
“Let's get to it.”
“No mourners!” Jesper called as he turned and loped away.
“No funerals,” the rest of the crew responded.
Inej cocked her head at the strange exchange. It wasn't something she'd heard from any of them before, but then again, she had only accompanied Kaz on solo jobs so far. She made a mental note to ask Jesper about it later. It didn't exactly seem like an uplifting way to say farewell.
As the rest of the crew scattered, Inej sized up the building in front of her and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Then she stepped back and took a running start at the wall. Keep your momentum going, yelled Sepp's voice in her head as she launched herself upward and caught hold of a metal signpost swinging from the side of the storehouse's neighboring building. Her muscles strained from the effort, but she was able to hang on long enough to swing forward against the window grating on the second floor. She had actually done it! Raised voices from the storehouse made her squash down her small victory and she held fast to keep her position on the ledge. Now all she had to do was wait for Kaz's signal.
The minutes crept by until suddenly she heard Jesper whooping from around the corner and a blast of rapid gunfire. It was quickly answered by return fire and Inej clung tighter to the ledge in a desperate attempt to flatten into it. She flinched as the fight moved closer and a stray bullet pinged against the brick only a few feet away from her. That did it. She needed to move now or she'd be peppered full of holes; signal from Kaz be damned.
But at the exact moment she prepared to leap to the next window ledge, Kaz's gloved hand appeared from a crack in the window above her and pushed out a tiny burlap bag. She had to pivot midair to snatch it as it fell, but secured the bag into her grasp by its drawstring and one outstretched index finger. And then she was falling.
Luckily, a Ghafa always landed on her feet.
Inej ducked into a roll to break her fall, just as she would when landing a flip off the swings. But instead of standing in a bright spotlight with her arms up to a burst of applause, she took off sprinting through the narrow alleyways before anyone was the wiser. She heard the explosion of loud voices behind her as the host of Razor Gulls flung open the windows to see where the bag had fallen, only to be met with an empty stretch of cobblestone street. By the time they reached the ground floor, Inej was already three streets away, feet barely seeming to touch the ground as she flew through the Barrel to the appointed rendezvous spot.
Her breath had only just begun to return to normal when she heard the familiar thunk-thunk-thunk of Kaz's cane upon the pavement as he came into sight on the underpass of Goedmedbridge where Inej was waiting.
He reached out for the loot before even greeting her. Inej tossed the tiny bag to him without a word.
“That went well,” he remarked, pouring out the contents of the bag and beginning to count silently through the sea of shining pearls that flooded into his hands.
She wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not. She had nearly missed the bag when he had pushed it out the window. That had been the whole point of the job and she had almost thrown the operation by not trusting his timing. It was a lesson she wouldn't need to learn again. Even when Kaz's plans seemed impossible and too reliant on chance to work out, it always ended up right in the end. She should have known better. He'd been doing this a lot longer than she had.
Inej also wondered if he had been offended by the comment she made before the crew had taken their positions. She wondered if she should even care.
Finally, Inej could take the uncomfortable quiet no longer. “Kaz, I-”
“Save your breath, Wraith,” he said easily. He didn't sound angry at all. He poured the pearls back into the bag and pulled the drawstring taut. “I don't care what you or anyone else in this city think of me. As long as you do your job, you'll hear no complaints from me.”
“I didn't-”
“Just know this: I'm not out to get any of us killed if I can help it. My loyalty is to the Dregs. That includes you along with anyone who does a job for me, every dealer at our tables, every errand boy I hire for running messages, and every street thug who's thrown a drunk out of the Crow Club. All of you are my responsibility. It's not a position I take lightly.”
“And if you can't help it?”
“Then it'll be my own mistake and bad judgment. It'll be on my conscience, not any of yours.”
Inej had assumed, like many of the Dregs and their enemies alike, that Kaz Brekker didn't have a conscience. Perhaps he did after all. She wondered if all the terrible things he did actually bothered him. Did the crimes he committed and the violence he dealt out ever keep him up at night? Was that the true reason he never slept?
Somehow, she doubted it. She hated to think that someday she might become as bitter and unaffected as he seemed to be.
-
The first time Inej killed someone, it had been an accident.
Per Haskell hadn't ordered the kill. Kaz hadn't suggested it.
She had been running with the Dregs for just over two months. It had been a routine meetup for an exchange of information. There hadn't been any reason to expect trouble.
Kaz ran books for horse racing outside Ketterdam where the air was cleaner and there was more space for racetracks and open pastures. The wealthy merchants of the city liked to spend their weekends at the track to escape the daily bustle of the crowded streets and throw their money around carelessly. Their wives accompanied them to make social connections and be seen in their finery. Less fortunate pigeons attended the races to try to wager a bit of coin and hoped it paid off. It seldom did.
Kaz had worked out a deal so that the top three racing stables in Kerch sent their daily breeze times for every promising horse directly to himself every week before the stakes races on the weekends. Because of all the inside information he received, Kaz gave the best odds, so he took in the most bets. Other gangs tried to run books for the races, but setting odds required a great deal of mathematical skill that other Barrel thugs just didn't have. Kaz knew how to adjust his odds and always balanced his books so that he profited regardless of the race's outcome. It was knowledge that far exceeded most grunts in rival gangs. And they hated him more because of it. They were always trying to get access to the information Kaz paid for weekly, hoping it would make their own books appear more favorable to gamblers looking for a wager. No one had managed to get the drop on him yet.
Every week, the three runners met with Kaz a few blocks away from the wharf where the passenger brow boats came up from the inland towns of Kerch. They handed over the horses' workout times and Kaz handed each a fat wad of kruge. It was a simple exchange that had run like clockwork for months. Inej and another Dreg or two accompanied Kaz for the hand-off and then they'd all jump a gondel back to Ketterdam.
But on one particular night, there had been another spider hiding in the corner of a dilapidated storehouse. Inej had been watching the scene unfold from high above Kaz and Swann, the bruiser chosen to accompany him, as she usually did.
Inej had just watched the documents and money being exchanged, paying no attention to what else might be creeping in the shadows. As soon as Kaz slipped the information into his coat pocket, she let her concentration slide. The important part of the night was over, and she slid easily down a drainpipe back to solid ground as soon as the runners slipped out of sight to return to the docks.
That was when Inej spotted the quick reflection of light off a shining blade appear from the second floor of the storehouse. A girl, looking to be no older than Inej herself, was leaping through the air for Kaz, brandishing a long knife.
Inej reacted before she could even think, pulling a throwing dagger from her sleeve and hurling it up at the girl with as much force as she could muster. The girl plummeted from the sky, knocking Kaz to the ground with her, her long knife skidding across the cobblestone street and coming to rest at Inej's feet.
Swann was yelling and pulling the bloodied girl off of Kaz as Inej reached their side, her heart in her throat. Kaz was unwounded, but the girl... Inej had meant to strike her in the shoulder to disable her dominant hand, but she was still leaning control and accuracy with her new weapons. Her dagger had struck the girl right between the ribs and ruptured her lung instantly.
Inej had possibly saved Kaz's life that night. But she had taken a life in order to protect him. A fair trade-off, any member of the gang might say. The thought that lives could be exchanged so easily made her sick.
They had left the poor girl bleeding and gasping for her last breaths in the abandoned alley. Inej had wanted to stay to make sure the girl's accomplices found her body, but Swann called her a stupid fool and hauled her back in the direction of the river.
“D'you want to be there when the rest of her crew shows up? You'd be giving yourself away as the one who done it! Better they know nothing so you don't have a target on your back.”
“But we can't just-”
“We can and we will,” Kaz rasped, wiping a handkerchief across the back of his neck when the girl had bled on him. He balled it up and pitched it into the river. “And we're not waiting for a gondel either. Swann, cut that rowboat free. We're getting back to the Barrel now before any Stadwatch arrive.”
Inej stared blankly into the night as they rowed back towards the city limits, the weight of what she had just done beginning to settle on her shoulders like a heavy yoke. She had really killed someone. Ended a life just as simply as snuffing out a candle.
Kaz hadn't thanked her for having his back. Maybe thank you wasn't in his vocabulary. Maybe he didn't want to assume responsibility for her first kill, thinking that it was something she was proud of.
Their small group returned to the Slat in silence, discomforted by the strange ending to the usually-routine job. Kaz had disappeared into the darkness without a word the moment they docked and Inej didn't see him again for the rest of the night.
She retreated to her room immediately, avoiding the curious glances from everyone in the Slat. All who heard her sobs through her bedroom door that night just walked quietly past and shook their heads, remembering their own first times.
There would be no sleep for her that night. Inej didn't even bother trying. She didn't remove her vest or shoes or lay down to stare at the ceiling in the darkness for hours. She just planted herself in front of her window and gazed out it, watching for lights in the narrow glimpse of the harbor that she could see. For all that had just happened, her mind was strangely blank. The thoughts would come later, but for the moment, there was only a numb emptiness.
When the sky began to grow light on the horizon, Inej gave a small start and rolled her sore shoulders. The tiny room suddenly felt suffocating. She needed fresh air. So, she flipped the lock on her window and crawled out and up.
The roof of the Slat was one of the familiar places she had carved out for herself in the past two months. Not many people had the skills to get to the roof so it was usually quiet and empty up there. She liked Ketterdam at this hour when it was silent and still. But she couldn't appreciate it today. The city might have been quiet, but her mind was beginning to grow loud and roar with disapproval and shame. She tried to pray, to atone, but couldn't find the right words. What do you say to your gods when you know you have done something unforgivable? Was it right of her to ask for forgiveness at all, even though it had been an accident? This time might have been an accident, but judging by the tales told by the rest of the Dregs, it would be the first accident of many more to come. That was a given in this line of work.
Was she strong enough to continue on this way?
Inej rubbed a sleeve across her eyes when she heard him coming. She didn't have to look behind herself to know who it was. The uneven gait was unmistakable, even when he was clamoring over the roof.
“Leave me alone, Kaz,” she said, her voice still wavering unevenly. He was the last thing she needed right now. As a lieutenant in the gang, he probably had a body count higher than she could imagine. It made her skin prickle. She didn't want to think about it.
Kaz ignored her, of course, and joined her on the rooftop anyway. At least he kept his distance. For a long time he didn't say anything at all.
“Everyone will tell you it never gets easier to kill,” he said finally, staring at the morning flush beginning to spread across the sky. “It sounds more profound that way, but it's also a load of shit. Anything gets easier the more you do it.”
“Is that supposed to be helpful?” Inej asked incredulously. She wasn't stupid enough to think he was trying to comfort her. If anything, his words had the opposite effect. They made her feel even worse. She didn't want killing to feel easier. She didn't want to kill at all!
Kaz fell into silence again, possibly realizing he had said the wrong thing.
In the distance, the crows began to wake up and make their presence known. They didn't have the lovely voices of the songbirds Inej used to hear every morning when she awoke in the caravan. These birds sounded clamorous and demanding, like they were angry at the sun for waking them up, not celebrating the new day like cooing morning doves and larks. They sounded like a bad omen.
“Inej, do you still want to do this?” Kaz asked quietly. “Be part of the Dregs?”
“What other choice do I have?” She asked, staring straight ahead. Kaz had told her it was her choice. That she could join the Dregs officially once she was ready. But where else did she have to go at this point? What was the alternative? Return to the Menagerie and suffer every night at the hands of stronger men until she lost herself completely?
“You have a hundred other choices,” Kaz said, as if it was obvious. “You could leave this place on a ship tomorrow. Stow away. You're good enough at keeping hidden and you can sneak past anyone. You could manage it. What's stopping you?”
“Well... my contract?”
“Yes,” he admitted, carefully. “Your contract.”
Maybe Kaz hadn't expected her to be so truthful. Any hardened criminal wouldn't give a damn about a contract and would do whatever was in their best interests. But Inej felt indebted to Kaz and the Dregs. He had seen potential in her and given her a chance. But what was he to her, really? What were the Dregs to her? Just a bunch of misfits conning one after another to survive.
“How did you join up with the Dregs, Kaz?” She asked, suddenly very curious about his own reasons. Most people didn't dream of joining a street gang. The members all just somehow ended up there. It was more like a last resort than something they aspired to.
“I was born into the Dregs,” he deflected her question easily. “Right there,” he pointed a gloved finger at the Slat's grimy chimney stack. “I came right out of the first floor fireplace, screaming and covered in soot.”
In spite of her foul mood, Inej let out a breath of laughter. “Do you ever tell the truth about anything?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Inej didn't respond, her face slowly returning to sullen and introspective. Kaz's slight smirk slipped off his face and he cleared his throat.
“Inej, a girl like you could-” he stopped himself and started over. “You have talent. You're... worth scores more than what Heleen Van Houden would have you believe. Whatever you want to do will be your decision. I'm not going to make any choices for you.”
It was the most honest declaration she had ever heard from Kaz. At least, it seemed like he was being honest as he could be. He might not have had much experience with truths.
Inej didn't know if being a part of the Dregs was the right thing to do. She was adrift in a country she did not belong to. Even if she could somehow find her way back home, would it ever feel right again? It couldn't, not after all she had done. How could she face her parents? How could she tell them what she had been forced to do at the Menagerie, what she had already done in the Dregs? She had killed a person. There was no going back now.
Maybe one day she could live for something more. One day she might be able to forgive herself for what she had done. One day she would be able to leave this city and never return.
But for now, this was the life she would live. So she would to commit to it. There was no other option. Not today.
Bravely, she raised her face and turned to look directly at Kaz.
“I'm staying. I'm going to join the Dregs.”
Kaz looked at her for a long while, assessing her courage, her conviction, and the scant sliver that remained of her hopefulness. She was still green, but she already showed promise and ten times more skill than any other spiders crawling the walls of Ketterdam. This investment was going to pay off, he could tell. As long as the Barrel didn't break her first.
Inej was still looking at him as the sun cast its first rays across the city, setting her alight in the brilliant sunlight. For a moment, Kaz seemed to be looking at someone else entirely. The girl, heartbroken by her own heinous deeds suddenly vanished, replaced with someone confident, determined, and absolutely awe-inspiring.
This girl is someone special, he thought, the voice soft and muffled inside his head. It was a voice Kaz had not heard in a very, very long time. He filed the thought away and cleared his throat.
“Then we're lucky to have you.” He reached into his coat and pulled something out, then tossed it to Inej. “Here. For you.”
She caught the blade out of the air and turned it over in her hands. It was a small thing, but sharp and deadly. Just like her. The dagger she had been using was unbalanced and beginning to tarnish already. It was cheap, not something made to last. This blade looked like quality. It must have cost Kaz at least a few weeks of what she'd make in the Dregs. She slipped the knife into a holster attached to her trousers.
“I'll pay you back.”
“Don't bother. It's a gift.”
Inej cocked her head in surprise. Kaz didn't give gifts. He hoarded kruge like a dragon hoarded treasure in its lair. Every coin and bill was counted, stacked, and redistributed accordingly, or put into the vault for later. This was... a very odd thing for him to do.
“Thank you,” she said slowly. When he didn't respond, she turned around to face him, but found that he was already gone. She was beginning to realize that this was typical Kaz behavior - to simply vanish when he had no more to say. A slight smile crossed her face. He hadn't been trying to make her feel better this morning, but somehow he had succeeded anyway.
She sighed and turned her face back to the bright morning sun. Maybe she should try to get some sleep after all, if only for an hour or two. For some reason, now she felt like she could actually manage it. She touched her hands to the hilt of her new knife, satisfied with its slight weight on her hip. She gave a final nod to the sun, then slipped off the roof and crawled back to her room, finally overcome with weariness.
It was time to rest. She would meet the rest of the day when she woke. And somehow, she knew the future wouldn't look as bad.
END.