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Inej didn't get much time to think. During the day, she was always busy, training harder than she'd ever trained before. She didn't want time to think, because if she did the horror would overwhelm her and she'd never stop thinking, lost in the dark mazes of her own mind. So she didn't stop moving, learning to survive on moments of adrenaline and desperation. It was easier that way.
But sometimes, when she was perched out on a roof, cold and tired but free, free, free, she thought about second chances. She thought about all the people she'd never got to say goodbye to, counting and naming them like she would her saints. Her father, teaching her the language of the skies. Her mother, soothing her when she fell just a little too far. Her entire family, gathered below her, a row of shining faces as she stepped out into the night, tightrope dancing beneath her--
With those memories came others. She couldn't escape them, she knew that by now, so she let her mind carry her right to the end of that part of her story, and with it, to the mystery that was Kaz Brekker.
He was a puzzle, a conundrum, a paradox. Young and old, hunter and hunted, vengeful and detatched. The Barrel's coldest lord, and it's most brutal fighter. Dirtyhands.
But people are always full of contradictions. Look at her, the bird with broken wings, trying, always trying to fly free again, but unable to get off the ground. No, that was not what lead her to consider Kaz Brekker. It was his interest in her.
Inej knew what desire looked like, and this was not it, not exactly. She wondered what had prompted him to rescue her, for a rescue she considered it. What potential had he seen in her desperate eyes, heard in her shaky whisper?
She wondered if, deep down, Kaz Brekker was lonely.
She wondered if, deep down, she was too.
***
She had a strange relationship with the Dregs. She'd almost forgotten how to interact with other people, and the underworld of Ketterdam was not an easy world to be thrown into, even at the best of times. They were disrespectful, yes-- constantly-- but of her abilities, not of her right to exist. Not like Tante Heleen and the clients of the Menagerie had been. Inej was happy to prove her skills again and again, make them believe in her, if that was what it took.
If felt liberating, in a way. She would not be the scared girl who was taken by slavers, she would not. She would be fast, silent, dangerous-- she would make them fear her, the Wraith of the shadows, faster than darkness and twice as deadly.
***
The roof she was stationed on was small, tucked away behind higher towers. It was warm, a summer's evening from a dream, and the city was bustling, but up here it was silent.
Across from her sat Jesper Fahey, best sharpshooter in the Dregs, apparently. Inej had never seen him in action, but he looked it-- his hands kept skating across the mother-of-pearl handles of his guns, obviously intimately familiar with them. It seemed to calm a little of the restless fire that burned in his soul.
She hadn't really talked to him before tonight, but she was curious. She'd seen him looking at her sullenly, looking away when she made eye contact. She had an idea why, but she wasn't going to ask. That wasn't how she played.
They waited.
"Who are you?" Jesper asked suddenly.
"I'm the Wraith," Inej replied calmly, "Inej Ghafa."
"I know that, I mean--" He shook his head, as if in disgust at his own inability to find the right words. "Why are you here? What do you do?"
Something unspoken cut through his words, something almost... hurt. What does Kaz Brekker see in you? His question, unvoiced and yet crystal clear, made her suddenly feel she understood a lot more about Jesper Fahey.
"I can show you what I do," she offered. "If you'd like." He nodded, slightly warily.
"See that flower, up there, in the window box?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"Watch." She took three steps back, and easily caught onto the stonework of the tower. That was the best thing about Ketterdam. It was made of old, grey stone, and the cement-- cheap and badly made to begin with-- had been quickly eroded by the harsh sea winds. It was child's play to climb the tower, and pick a flower from the little box.
"Saints," Jesper said, as she jumped down the last five feet and landed gracefully, the flower still perfectly intact. She handed it to him, and he took it without hesitation.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought-- well, it doesn't matter. I was wrong. That was incredible." He looked at the little flower with awe. "I've never seen anyone climb like that, and I know some damn good thieves."
She bowed her head at his praise. "I know what you thought," she said dryly. "Everyone thinks it. It's not true. I'm not Kaz's pet. I'm not anyone's pet, not any more."
"Any more?"
She sighed. "The Menagerie."
He nodded understanding, and quietly left the topic alone. She hadn't quite mastered the art of keeping the pain off her face at that name yet.
"Can you use those knives of yours?" he asked.
She slid them from her sleeves. "I can."
"Fear the Wraith," he said. "Is there anything you can't do?" His smile was teasing, but with a flash of genuine admiration now.
"Oh, you'd be surprised. Can't cook decent waffles," she said, mock serious. "Can't dance to Rotty's jigs. Can't shoot particularly well. Doing all three together is a disaster."
He laughed, easy and infectious. "Well, not sure about the first one," he said, "But I can teach you to dance to Rotty's jigs. And, also--" He shrugged, trying to look casual, but failing, ever so slightly. "If you want to learn to shoot... I've got plenty of spare time."
"Thank you," Inej said, and meant it. Kindness wasn't easy to come by in Ketterdam, and she suddenly wondered where Jesper was from. "I could teach you to climb. It just takes technique, really. I think you'd be good at it."
"Deal, Ghafa." He grinned, and Inej felt like, maybe, she'd made a friend. When he tucked the flower behind his ear, she couldn't help smiling.
Later, back at the Slat, when the job was done and everyone was celebrating, she clinked her mug against Jesper's and caught Kaz's eye from across the room. Suddenly she had a suspicion, and she said "I'll be back in a moment."
She slipped through the room to Kaz's dark corner, and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You did this deliberately," she said. "You made sure we'd be friends."
Kaz met her gaze steadily. "No comment."
"You know... Damn you, Kaz Brekker," she said, but with laughter in her voice. He looked up at her, and the candlelight reflected in his dark coffee eyes. His smile was danger incarnate.
She took a breath, and he took one too, and she heard the other Dregs calling her and the spell was broken.
"See you later, Dirtyhands," she said.
"Wraith," he nodded back.
***
Dark things live everywhere, Inej knew, even in places you'd come to feel safe. And she didn't mean dark things like Kaz Brekker, either. She was sure he was many people's nightmares, but not hers. No, the dark things that beset her were of an entirely different nature.
She hadn't liked the look of this man ever since she'd first seen him hanging around the Slat. She'd learnt to read a particular kind of people well when she'd been with the Menagerie, and this man had an air of cruelty about him-- pain for pain's sake. She didn't know his name, but she'd spotted him staring at her, with something approaching hunger.
She wasn't surprised when he finally confronted her. What had confused her, at first, had been the fact he'd chosen to do it in the middle of the Slat, with people all around. Then she'd realised he wanted to show everyone how the Wraith, feared and envied, could be brought low.
Her blood had boiled. The Wraith was not a person to be owned. The Wraith was nothing more than a shadow, a dream, an echo. A memory of pain, lingering.
Inej sat now on Kaz's windowsill, letting the sea breeze blow through her hair. Kaz was sorting through papers at his desk, a rhythmic sound in the living silence, woven from the sounds of Ketterdam.
"Someone tried to touch me this afternoon," she said. There was no emotion in her words, just a simple statement of fact.
Kaz's hands tightened on the stack of papers he was holding. He put it down, very gently, and took a steadying breath. He sounded angry, but not with her-- by now, she knew the difference. "I can't protect you, Inej. You need to fight your own battles--"
"Oh, I did," Inej interrupted. "That's what I'm telling you. I broke three of his fingers, and promised to break more next time. So if you were thinking of using him for anything-- short, shaved head, don't know his name-- you'll have to use someone else."
Kaz looked at her appraisingly. "You have my full permission to do far worse to anyone else who tries to touch you against your will, Wraith."
"You couldn't have stopped me anyway."
"Couldn't I?" His gaze was a challenge, a war cry, a mystery.
She slid down from the window sill and lent against his desk. "You wouldn't stop me."
He looked away. "No, I wouldn't. If anyone dares lay hands on you, by the Saints, make them pay for it, Inej."
"I will. That I can promise." Because I am not helpess any more. I am the Wraith, I am untouchable. She wanted to thank Kaz for giving her that, but she didn't know how.
She left unsure whether she'd won or lost, or even if there'd ever been a challenge at all.
***
Tonight, she was following him again. She'd learnt fast, and not for nothing, now, was she called the Wraith. She was a study in shadow and silence.
Kaz knew she was there. He always did, somehow he'd made it his business to learn the texture of her silences.
He'd raised his eyebrows at her when they'd first left the Slat, but when she hadn't come out, he'd just carried on. He knew by now that she didn't always want to talk. This night didn't feel like one for talking. It felt alive, smouldering, ready to ignite. She wondered if Kaz could feel it, or if he was causing it. She wondered if he'd be the one to strike a spark, and burn the city down.
They reached the meeting place, a dark alley off the side of a busier street. The rest of the Dregs were waiting. Inej caught sight of Jesper, rocking back and forth restlessly on his heels. He grinned as she stepped out of the shadows, and for a moment looked dark and dangerous, aflame like the rest of the hot darkness.
Kaz rapped his cane once on the cobbles, and everyone fell still. "Everyone know their assignments?"
They nodded assent.
"Good. No mourners."
"No funerals," they replied, a low murmur into the brooding summer's night.
They scattered, just like that. At Kaz's word, the night burned.
***
Inej ran. The tiles of the roofs were warm beneath her leather-clad feet, and the air smelled like smoke and spices and the sea. The sky was a deep back above her, a void lit by no stars. She felt powerful, limitless, immortal.
Shots rang out on the streets beneath her, and Jesper's wild shouts, and she ran, ran, ran.
At the end of the row of houses, she swung down easily and landed in a roll on the cobbles. She heard voices from just around the corner, and waited, running her fingers across the hilts of her knives. Hardly thirty seconds had passed-- cutting it a little close there, Kaz-- when she heard the shouted signal and dove round the corner.
Kaz was on the ground, and if Inej hadn't known better, she would have believed his act. The man standing over him-- presumably their mark-- was flushed with the arrogance born of easy victory.
"That'll show cripples like you," he crowed. "Daring to attack decent men--"
Inej nodded slightly to Kaz. He didn't acknowledge her, he was far too good for that, but she knew he'd seen her. He was good at seeing her.
"Decent?" he said, pushing himself up into his elbows. "There is no such thing as decent here, Mr Rolland. Oh yes, I know your name. I know a surprising amount about you."
Rolland took a step forward, but Kaz put up his hand. "Don't move. Wraith?"
Inej slipped from the shadows and put her knife across Rolland's throat. "Do what he says," she hissed, and the man whimpered.
Kaz stood awkwardly, and reached for his cane. He took a slow, menacing step forwards, and Rolland tried to back away, but Inej had him tight.
"I have kruge," Rolland babbled, "I can--"
"I want a name," Kaz said coldly. "Who's been paying you?"
"I-- Snead. Talbot Snead, he pays me to carry messages, I don't know why! Let me go!"
"No, I don't think I'll do that." Kaz looked at Inej. "When you're ready."
The way her knife slid over the man's throat was an awful kind of poetry. Feeling slightly dizzy, she took two steps back from the body and caught hold of the wall.
"Was killing him really necessary?" she asked.
"Yes. If we'd let him go, he'd have tattled to this Talbot Snead, letting him know we've noticed what he's up to." Kaz steadied his cane on the uneven cobbles, carefully not looking at Inej as he admitted "Also, he was the owner of a slave ring. Taking young girls."
Inej looked up. "You should have told me. I'd have made it slower," she said grimly.
"You did well."
"So did you. Nice act. I'd have believed it, if I didn't know you. Kaz Brekker doesn't stop fighting."
"Neither does Inej Ghafa," he replied. She nodded slowly, wondering if that could be true. She'd make it true.
The Dregs burst around the corner, shouting and taunting each other, frenetic with the energy of a fight. There was something intimate about seeing people this undone, it attracted and scared her in equal measure.
"Did you get them all?" Kaz asked.
"You bet we did," Jesper said.
"Raske did some crazy things with flash grenades, and they just ran..." Anika agreed, grinning wildly.
"Good," Kaz said brusquely. "We got the name. Talbot Snead. Everyone, back to the Slat, and try to ask some subtle questions. Subtle, remember, we mustn't let Snead know we're interested in him."
"You're not going to celebrate then, Brekker?" Anika said. "Come on!"
"I'll celebrate when I've got all of Snead's operations in front of me," Kaz said. "Now, go."
The Dregs scattered, except for Jesper. "You coming, Inej?" he asked. She shook her head.
"I'm tired. Go on, I'll see you later."
Jesper nodded, and cast a look at Kaz, as if he was about to say something, but in the end he turned and strode off down the street.
The night was still dark and sultry, but now it was something else, too-- the language of contentment wasn't one Inej was fluent in, but now, in the shadows of Ketterdam's summer, she felt happy.
"Ready to go?" Kaz asked her.
"Yeah. Oh, and Kaz?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"You have nothing to thank me for. Go on, Wraith-- show the world who you are."