Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was in darkness that The Wraith truly lived up to its name. Inej thought it was fitting. The Wraith was the moniker she had gained shifting through the shadows. Now, the ship named after her was doing the same thing.

It was a cloudless, cold night as The Wraith stalked its target, The Chattel Rose. Positioned in front of the dark mountains of the shore behind them, Inej’s infamous warship was invisible to the slavers that floated unaware before them. If Inej had it her way, things would stay that way.

As quiet as ghosts, Inej led her crew onto her ship’s dinghies. She looked at her crew and smiled. It wasn’t every day they were able to take down a slavers ship, but every time it happened, her soul felt a little bit lighter. One less monster destroying another’s innocence.

At her command, they slipped across the water and approached The Chattel Rose.

The slavers’ ship loomed in front of them as they neared its port side. Inej was flooded with a familiar sensation. Anticipation and adrenaline pooled in her veins, drawing her attention to other times she had felt the same. She used to think of the moments before a performance in her family’s caravan as she stood atop the tightrope. She’d felt the anticipation then; she could almost taste the adrenaline. But now, she was reminded of something else. The increased heart rate, the shiver down her spine, and the distinct fury that curled in her gut reminded her of dirty streets, muggy skies, and rooftops that called her name. It reminded her of a monstrous boy that swore to destroy the world that wronged him, brick by brick.

It made her want to do the same. Ship by ship.

Once the dinghies reached the ship’s port side, Inej grabbed a pair of ropes and scaled the smooth hull. Her nimble fingers easily found edges to grab on to and the familiar rubber soles of her shoes found footing against the damp wood.

Below her, her crew carefully wrapped the small boats’ sides in cloth to muffle the sound of the vessels tapping together in the waves. Above her, the slavers were quiet. Muffled noises came from below deck, but Inej knew most of the crew and captives were asleep, or trying to be. The sailors above deck were the only resemblance of a guard or lookout, but even their eyes were drooping. No one was expecting her arrival, no one sensed her presence. No one would be alerting these slavers to her crew, she’d make sure of it.

Moments later, she reached the ship’s railing and landed softly on the deck. Not even the air seemed to move around her. Taking the ropes she’d looped over her shoulders, she tied them to the ship’s rigging and slowly lowered them down to her crew waiting below. Once she saw that the ropes held, she turned towards the few members of The Chattel Rose that occupied the deck.

Now the real work begins.

As silent as a shadow, Inej circled the deck, counting five sailors in total. Two stood on the quarterdeck near the helm, and two stood at opposite sides of the main deck: one was clearly asleep leaning against the mast, the other sat sharpening a cruelly made sword by the starboard side. The last one was perched up in the crows nest, ready to alert anyone at the first sign of danger. Inej knew who her first target would be.

She smiled. The Wraith was on the hunt.

The climb to the crow’s nest was almost effortless and as usual, completely, eerily silent. The man didn’t even see her coming. Before he even had the chance to think about warning anyone, the handle of Sankt Petyr connected with the back of his head. He dropped and Inej made quick work of gagging him and tying him to the mast. She always tried to keep at least one alive to question later and if it couldn’t be the captain, he would have to do. No one could accidentally kill him from up here.

Unless we burn the whole ship down. Inej didn’t intend to make firewood out of The Chattel Rose, but if that’s how the night turned out, she was not complaining. This wasn’t her first slaver ship she commandeered and it definitely wasn’t going to be her last. The Chattel Rose was one of a dozen ships that sailed under the Red Rose, one of the biggest slaver fleets on the True Sea. Inej had been slowly chipping away at their defenses for months. The Chattel Rose was key in her plans at getting to their leader, Esben Ragnvald. The man was notorious, even with his strange fascination with roses. She would not let this night go to waste.

From her position in the crows nest, Inej could see her crew climbing over the railing onto the deck. They were almost silent—she had taught them well—as they readied their weapons and sunk into the shadows. Inej returned her focus to the four remaining slavers on deck. The two on the main deck were easy pickings for her crew. That left those on the quarterdeck. With a flick of her wrist Santka Alina slid into her palm. She perched on the edge of the crows nest, aimed, and let her knife fly. Before her knife reached its destination, she was already throwing a second.

If her heart was an arrow, her knives were her vengeance, and they too demanded to land true.

As always, her knives never failed her.

Inej leapt down from the crows nest, ignoring the way the blood pooled on the quarterdeck. The other two slavers were taken down without a fuss. Her crew circled around the deck, ducking into shadow or quietly moving the bodies out of sight. Sirka, a recent addition to her crew, tossed Inej’s knives to her from the quarterdeck. She nodded at her before walking towards the captain’s quarters. Out of the corner of her eye, Inej saw Specht and three others creep to the lower decks.

The door to the captain’s quarters gave way easily under her lock picks. She was out of practice since leaving to the sea two years earlier, but the lock was easy. She could almost hear a certain raspy voice scoff at her when she fumbled with the picks. But in the end, the door opened and she had other things to focus on.

Like questioning the captain of a slaving ship.

The sound of the door softly opening wasn’t enough to wake the sleeping captain within. Leroy Dungree, the captain of The Chattel Rose, snored blissfully unaware of her presence. That bliss wouldn’t last much longer.

She propped herself onto his desk and took out Sankt Vladimir from her boot. With her other hand, she lit the lamp resting on the desk next to her. Soft light filled the room and the man stirred.

She once heard it said that one of the best ways to be awoken was by a soft increase of light. Better than a knife to the chest, anyway.

Inej watched the man as he blinked awake. At the first sight of her, he was immediately on edge, pulling a knife from under his pillow. He got out of his covers with less grace then he probably would have liked before turning to Inej.

“Who are you?” His voice was steady and strong. No fear was evident on the surface. “What do you want?”

Inej said nothing. She just watched, twirling her knife between her fingers. The silence was palpable. Somewhere in the bowels of a ship, a cry rang out. Dungree began to look uncomfortable. He shifted from foot to foot.

“Where is Esben Ragnvald?” Inej asked.

Dungree tried, and failed, to look confused. “Who?”

“Don’t play stupid. Where is he?”

“And how’d you know that I know where he is?”

“I have my ways. But I don’t have all night.” Inej hopped off the desk and took a step towards the man, her knives glinting. Another shout echoed through the ship, followed by the sounds of a fight. “Your crew doesn’t have all night either.”

“I don’t know what you want,” Dungree hissed, taking a step towards her. “But you won’t get it. This is my ship.”

“Tell me where Ragnvald is.”

Dungree said nothing but instead lunged toward Inej, his knife cutting a wide arch in the air. He was fast, but Inej was prepared. She twisted out of his reach, throwing her knife in the process. Before he could finish his knife’s arc, Dungree’s arm was pinned to the wall, her dagger in his wrist. He yelled in pain and turned towards her, anger and recognition flickering in his eyes.

“I know who you are,” he spat. “You are the Wraith. The pirate witch. The Scourge of the True Sea.”

His words dripped with venom. Inej didn’t care.

“And I will get the answers I came for.”

It was then that Dungree began to laugh. He shook his head, his twisted laughter falling from his lips. “You will never catch him.”

Inej ignored him and turned toward his desk. She opened drawers, turned over papers, looking for anything that could help trace her to the leader of the Red Rose. She kept one eye on the captain who was still pinned helplessly to the wall. He just looked back at her, a chilling smile twisting his features.

“He’ll stop you first.” Dungree said in a tone that made her hackles rise. He wasn’t even trying to escape. “And he’ll start with your collaborators in Ketterdam.”

Inej paused, her hand hanging halfway between the desk and her knives. She shot a look at Dungree, who only smiled wider.

“He’s going to destroy them. He’ll bleed them dry.”

Inej turned back to the papers at the desk. She heard a lot of empty threats in her time on the seas. But they were always just that—empty. This man was no different from the rest.

“They don’t stand a chance.” Dungree said softly. “Kaz Brekker doesn’t stand a chance.”

Inej didn’t mean to react, she didn’t want to. It was better, safer, if she pretended that the name meant nothing. That Kaz Brekker meant nothing to her. It was better for both of them that way. But there was something in Dungree’s voice that was dangerous. It wasn’t empty. Before she knew what she was doing, she had vaulted over the desk, scattering papers across the floor. Her knife was to Dungree’s throat in the blink of an eye.

“What does Kaz Brekker have to do with this?” she hissed, her knife drawing blood.

Dungree chuckled. “Oh? Is he important to you?”

A hot, twisting anger coursed through Inej’s veins. Inej knew neither Dungree nor Ragnvald knew exactly what kind of relationship she had with Kaz Brekker and she was going to keep it that way. Kaz wasn’t subtle with his work of targeting pleasure houses and merchers who supported “indentures”. He was the monster she wanted him to be and the world took notice. Now her enemies—no, their enemies—were coming to put an end to his rampage. But that was something he could handle. However, exposing their relationship to this bloodthirsty world? That wasn’t something she was going to risk.

Dungree, like the fool he was, kept talking. “Ragnvald is headed towards Ketterdam. He’s going to make that little bastard pay. And if his death makes you cry, all the better.”

That was the last thing Leroy Dungree would ever say. The sound of his voice still echoed in the air as his blood spilled out over the floor of his cabin. Inej stepped away from the blood, praying silently to her Saints. She wouldn’t ask for forgiveness for his life she ended, but she could ask that his soul finds some sort of comfort in the next life. The Saints knew he was going to need it.

Inej left the silence of the captain’s quarters to find Specht on the main deck, standing in front of the rest of the slavers crew. Those that were still alive were tied together, kneeling on the hard wood of the deck. On one side of the boat, those Inej had set out to save were huddled together, clutching tightly to one another. A few members of her crew were surrounding them, trying in their intimidation to be comforting.

Inej focused back on Specht, who was looking at her for direction. If he noticed the blood on her coat, he said nothing.

“Bring the rescued back to The Wraith.” Inej said, her voice sounded every bit like the sea captain she was. She was surprised her anger didn’t seep into her voice. “As soon as we are back on the ship, we sail for Ketterdam.”

Specht nodded and the rest of her crew began the work of helping those they saved back into the small dinghies.

“How down?” Specht gestured to bound men in front of him.

“Croaked.” Kill them.

An unusual command, but a necessary one. Inej didn’t have the time to bring these criminals to land and put them on trial for the monsters they were. She felt a part of her heart twinge at the blood on her hands tonight, but she took a breath, steadied her heart, and moved on. She had bigger things to worry about.

Esben Ragnvald was heading to Ketterdam. Inej knew it could be a lie, a ruse to get her off of the True Sea. But Inej had spent plenty of time watching people lie, she knew how to see beyond the words they were saying. Leroy Dungree, for all his sins and shortcomings, was telling the truth. Ragnvald was coming for Kaz. But Inej would be coming for him. Inej’s mind was clear. Only one thought rang through it.  

Ragnvald better be ready for the monster that was Dirtyhands and his Wraith.

Chapter Text

The Silver Six was busy tonight. People were packed around the tables, trying their luck at gaining a fortune. Kruge passed between hands, dice were rolled, wheels were spun, cards were played. Kaz Brekker reveled in it. 

Ever since Pekka Rollins fled town, the Dime Lions found it increasingly difficult to stay loyal to their gang or to defend their territory. Once the fear of the plague wore off, it wasn’t hard for the Dregs to acquire new territory. Before long, the Emerald Palace was theirs and renamed the Silver Six. 

The old facade of the building was gone, replaced by shining jewels of every kind. It was flashy, meant to catch your attention. However, the inside was different, it was plain with only a hint of the luxury seen from the outside. It was a subtle reminder of why the pigeons were here. They were poor now, but the hints of wealth were tantalizing. Though if you asked Jesper and Wylan, it meant something else. 

“The Silver Six?” Jesper had asked, shooting a look at Kaz. “Is that supposed to represent something?”

“Of course not.”

“It does remind me of something though,” Wylan piped in. “Six dangerous outcasts, one impossible heist. Ring any bells?”

“Jesper, is Wylan always this dramatic?”

“He learned from the best.”

Looking around the Silver Six, Kaz wondered, not for the first time, if letting Jesper and Wylan decorate had been a good idea. The decorations on the inside were subtle, marked occasionally with something flashy. The design was inspired from multiple different cultures: Fjerdan, Ravkan, Suli, Zemeni, and of course, Kerch. Hints of the cultures’ traditions and tastes were sprinkled around the building. There were Fjerdan wolves, Ravkan eagles, and Zemeni jurda fields. Real authentic Suli silks hung in one corner. Inej had brought them back from a visit to her parents. To show this city who the Suli really are , she had said. 

But it was the wood panels on the back wall that always caught Kaz’s eye. A beautiful engraving of six crows covered the panels. From a distance, they looked normal, but on closer inspection, the designs that made up their feathers took on different shapes. The first crow had chemical equations and music notes exploding across its wings. Another had an engraving of a certain pair of twin revolvers. The third had wings that looked like organs and bones. Next to it was the only crow in flight. Snowflakes and ash trees decorated its wings. It had a wolf carved into its exposed chest. 

Kaz found it difficult to look at that one. 

The fifth crow was the same size as all the others, but somehow at first glance, it went unnoticed. Kaz didn’t know how others didn’t see it first. After all, it’s feathers were made up of knives. It was beautiful and deadly. But then came the sixth and final crow. This crow had the least amount of embellishments, in fact it was the only crow with normal feathers. But in its beak was an open lock. A picked lock, Jesper had told him. The crow perched on top of a goblet that had been knocked over, spilling its contents across the other crow’s feet. 

If you asked anyone about it, the crows were just a nod to the Dregs symbol. That’s what Kaz told himself anyway. He tried so hard to ignore the way his eyes caught onto the knife winged crow or how his heart clenched painfully at the one crow in flight. 

They were just carvings on a wall. Nothing more. Kaz Brekker was not sentimental. He didn’t miss things or long to say goodbye. He just let things go. 

Or well, he tried to anyway. 

It was easier to let go of material things. He had no problem throwing away an old coat or losing a hat. He was even willing to part with some of his kruge at the right price. He had always understood from a young age that there’s a possibility that you could lose everything. Whether it be to a fire, an accident, a bad judgment, or even to death. You came into this life with nothing and you will leave with nothing. Everything else in the middle was just peaks and valleys. 

But he also understood from a young age that people are destined to leave and they are infinitely harder to let go of. Unless you don’t care about them. If you don’t care, their absence won’t leave a whole in your chest you can’t replace. Their absence is painless. You won’t have to see your heart splattered across a field like damp red blossoms or feel your soul tear in two under the weight of corpses. 

If you don’t care, they won’t haunt your thoughts and become your nightmares.

So he did his best not to care—to keep everyone at arm's length, both figuratively and literally. That way when they left, he could let them go. He had everyone he loved ripped away from him so he decided to let dust collect in the spaces they left behind. He hadn’t been able to let them go until it was too late and he was far too damaged. He was determined that no one would fill in those empty voids. He didn’t need anyone and he was certain no one needed a monster like him. 

However, life had a bad habit of proving him wrong. Despite his attempts to keep them out, he met others who he started to care for. He found friendship and even love—things he swore that he would never feel again. He couldn’t. He didn’t deserve it. But it found him anyway. 

He tried to keep them out, but they were just like him. They had gotten into the habit of not doing what they were supposed to do. So they squeezed their way into his broken, mangled heart and he started to care for them. They began to mean something to him. 

Either out of fear or necessity, he tried to let them go. To let her go. But he couldn’t. 

The one person he never wanted to lose or to forget was the one person whose dream was to leave Ketterdam. Life took Inej away from him and he didn’t want to let her go. But he had to, she wasn’t his. So, he said goodbye, asked her to return, and let her leave. But he didn’t let her go in his heart, not really. He held on to a sliver of foolish, dangerous hope that he had stolen from her just like the thief he was. 

And for reasons he could not fathom, she came back. She always came back. Not for the city, not for a debt or an obligation. She came back on her own and she came back for him. 

But Kaz wasn’t sentimental. No, the letter he kept in his pocket and the ring he hadn’t dared to bring into the light were nothing to him. They were just objects. Nothing more. He wasn’t sentimental. He didn’t miss people. That wasn’t what Dirtyhands did.

Dirtyhands got the rough work done. 

He took a lap around the Silver Six, watching the night’s activities take place. Nobody looked at him, nobody dared to stop him. He was feared in Ketterdam. He had been for a while, but for the last two years, the whole city felt it. He had finally roped the city into submission. But his work was far from over. There were things he still hadn’t done, damage he had yet to deal. 

Once he was satisfied with the state of his newer gambling hall, he slipped out into the night to finish his rounds. He would first check on the Crow Club before stopping by Fifth Harbor. Then he had a merch’s mansion to snoop out. Finally, he’d be able to get some rest. 

The night was quiet and Kaz was striding down an empty alley in the East Stave when Roeder found him. He was almost impressed until the boy’s landing made enough noise to alert anyone walking down the streets of their presence. Kaz scowled at him, trying (and failing) not to compare him to someone else. 

“What business?” Kaz said. He didn’t break his pace to address the other boy. Roeder followed. 

“A runner came to the Slat,” said Roeder. “A young Zemeni boy. He said he was looking for you.”

Kaz glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “What gang?”

“None. He came from the direction of the docks.”

“What ship did he come from?”

“The Bloody Rose. ”

That made Kaz pause. He knew that name and he knew it well. The Bloody Rose was a part of the Red Rose fleet. After everything that happened with the Ice Court heist, Kaz had made good on his promise to Inej and began collecting information on every pleasure house, merch, or Barrel boss that was involved with the city’s so called indentures. A couple years ago, he wouldn’t have done it. He had been too busy plotting his revenge. But with Rollins gone, Kaz found that he wanted to do it. So the two of them began snipping at the slavers from the sea and from the city. The Red Rose was one of the top suppliers of Ketterdam and well, Kaz was beginning to severely limit their selling options. 

Kaz began walking again. “Did he tell you what he wanted?”

“He said his captain wants to make a deal with you.”

Don’t underestimate them, Kaz. The Red Rose is serious business. They aren’t like the Barrel Bosses of Ketterdam . Inej’s voice from one of her previous visits echoed back to him. He rolled his shoulders and ignored the way his thoughts pulled towards the letter resting in his pocket. It was Inej’s most recent letter, if you could even call it that. It was written in code like usual, but it was short and to the point, written hastily on a spare piece of parchment. It was a warning, a plea to be alert. To be careful. 

“Where is the runner now?” Kaz asked. 

“Anika took him to an old safehouse on the edge of the Financial District. She said they’d be waiting for you.”

Casting a glance at Roeder, Kaz tightened his grip on his cane and straightened his hat. “Let’s go see what the messenger wants.”

The trip from the East Stave to the Financial District wasn’t a long one, but by the time Kaz made it there the moon had risen well into the night sky. It was a surprisingly clear night, but he didn’t look at the stars that glittered overhead as he stepped into the abandoned safehouse. 

Kaz wasn’t sure what to expect and he didn’t like it. However, he didn’t become the King of the Barrel out of pure luck. He always had a plan, even if he didn’t know the specifics. He had yet to meet a person he couldn’t intimidate. 

The shadows of the building shifted over his face, his cold smirk in place. Dirtyhands had come to play.

The sound of his cane tapping against the ground preceded him into the main room of the safehouse. In front of him, Anika stood with a man and a small Zemeni boy. The boy must have been the runner sent to the Slat. He looked small and terrified. When she spotted Kaz, Anika nudged the boy out of the way, clearing the path between Kaz and the man. 

Kaz didn’t need to be introduced to the man to know who he was. He had heard enough rumors, read enough reports, and received enough of Inej’s letters to know that he was none other than Esben Ragnvald himself. He wasn’t as intimidating as Kaz expected him to be. At least he didn’t present himself that way. He was dressed simply in sailor’s clothing, but the rose necklace around his neck visibly displayed his wealth. One glance and Kaz knew he could easily get one hundred thousand kruge for it at the local pawn shop. That said nothing about the price he could get off the black market.

Glancing around the room, Kaz spotted a couple other Dregs lining the walls and blocking the exits. Roeder’s shadow perched in the window above their heads. 

Ragnvald spotted Kaz and smiled, spreading his arms in greeting. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Kaz Brekker. The man I have been dying to meet.”

“I can’t say the same,” Kaz said, his tone level and welcoming, despite his words and his stance. “But it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Ragnvald.”

If Ragnvald was surprised he knew who he was, he didn’t let it show. Instead a smile spread across his face and he laughed. “Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Brekker. I knew you’d be intimidating, but no one told me you would have manners.”

Kaz just raised an eyebrow. Crows don’t have manners. If Mister Ragnvald thought he did, then he clearly hadn’t been around enough civilized people. 

“I heard you have a deal for me.”

“Straight and to the point. I like him!” Regnvald said with far too much cheer, nudging Anika with an elbow. She shot him a flabbergasted glare. When no one said anything, he turned back to Kaz, rubbing his hands together.  “But I do have a deal for you. And if the rumors are true, it’s one I think you’ll like.”

“There’s a lot of rumors about me, Mr. Ragnvald,” Kaz said, his voice a deep rasp. “Hopefully you’ve been listening to the right ones.”

Ragnvald just smiled wider. His teeth were unnaturally white against his tan skin. Kaz wondered how many teeth he could knock out with a swing of his cane. 

“You are a man of business.” Ragnvald cast a meaningful look at Kaz’s suit. “You understand the ebbs and flows of the market. More importantly, you know a good investment when you see one.”

Kaz’s face remained impassive, but his insides squirmed. His accuracy unnerved him. Kaz wondered if Ragnvald had been collecting information on him just like he had been doing.

Ragnvald continued. “I have a proposition for you. A deal, an investment, whatever you want to call it. One that I know Ghezen will approve of.”

“You don’t strike me as a religious man.”

“I’m whatever you need me to be.”

Kaz tipped his head to one side. “What is this proposition?”

“Give me information on The Wraith and I will give you the first pick of my supply and a third of my earnings from Ketterdam.” Ragnvald must have seen something on Kaz’s face because he added: “I can also give you information on my other sellers in the city. You, Mr. Brekker, seem like a man who will do anything to stay on top and I can give you anything you need. Just give me The Wraith .”

The Dregs around the room shifted, their weapons becoming more apparent. A fiery hot rage flared up in Kaz’s heart, almost breaking his impassive facade. No one touches his Wraith. With effort, he pushed the anger down and instead spread a disbelieving smile across his face. “That’s the deal? I give you The Wraith and you give me information and slaves?”

“Not slaves, indentures. And kruge. It’s simple. Straight and to the point. Just like you, Mr. Brekker.”

“I’m afraid it’s not simple at all, Ragnvald.” Kaz took a step towards him, his cane hitting the ground. “For one, I don’t need information on the merchers who deal in the slave trade. I already have information on all of them. I know the inner workings of this city like the back of my hand. I don’t need your help. Second, The Wraith might as well be a myth. I don’t have any information that you don’t already have. The ship is a ghost story.”

“A myth that just so happens to make land quite frequently in berth twenty-two of Fifth Harbour. The very harbour your little gang has controlled for the last four years, if I’m not mistaken.” Ragnvald's facade broke and a dark look crossed his face. “You give information to The Wraith . You know more about it than anyone in this Saint-forsaken city.”

“The Wraith answers to no one. They may dock in my harbour, but I don’t know their plans or their whereabouts.” Kaz said, his voice level. “Like you said, I am a man of business. I know a good investment when I see one.”

I protect my investments. 

“Investment?” Ragnvald scoffed. “What good comes from harboring pirate scum? From giving them information to hurt trade?”

Kaz smirked. “And what good comes from dealing with slavers? If I recall, slavery is illegal in Kerch, Mr. Ragnvald. We lock people up in Hellgate for it.”

“Oh so the infamous Dirtyhands finally gained a conscience?”

“Hardly. I just know when to stop.”

Just then, shadows shifted across the floor and Kaz noticed Roeder’s figure was gone from the upper window. Moments later, he came bursting through the front door. 

“The Slat!” Roeder yelled, his breath short with panic. “The Slat’s on fire!”

Kaz watched a pleased smile spread across Ragnvald’s face.  “What a shame.”

He is stalling . This was part of his plan all along. Kaz stepped forward and grabbed Ragnvald’s shirt in both of his fists, bringing the slightly shorter man into his line of sight. The tip of his cane, which he still held in his hand, pressed into Ragnvald’s cheek. 

“What’s your angle?” Kaz hissed. “Why drag my gang into this?”

“You dragged them into this yourself, Brekker. The moment you used them to mess with my sellers and impact my trade.”

“I underestimated you, Mr. Ragnvald.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “But I promise it won’t happen again.”

Kaz shoved the slaver away from him, sending him sliding across the ground. He turned towards the Dregs in the room, all of them looking at him with varying degrees of alarm. 

“What are you doing standing here?” He barked. “Get to the Slat!”

Immediately they jumped into motion and ran out into the night. Each desperate to get to the place they called home. 

“Mr. Brekker!” 

Kaz paused and turned back to Ragnvald. 

“You won’t get away with the damage you’ve caused,” Ragnvald spat. “You and The Wraith will pay.”

“Damage,” Kaz muttered. “Damage is what I intend to leave behind.”

Kaz left the warehouse with the sound of Esben Ragnvald’s left ankle shattering under the weight of his cane echoing in his ears. 

The Slat wasn’t far away from the safehouse, but by the time Kaz hobbled onto the street, the building was up in flames. Water had been poured onto the neighboring buildings to stop the spread, but there was nothing to be done for the Slat itself. Kaz could feel the heat radiating from the building. 

“Anika!” The girl in question  jumped, turning away from the fire. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” She was flustered. Her hands couldn’t stay still and her eyes were as wide as saucers. “Kaz, my sister, she…there’s still people stuck in there.”

He didn’t know if it was the smoke or the way her voice wobbled, but Kaz felt his heart drop to his toes. If it had been anyone else, Kaz wouldn’t have cared. That was the cold, hard truth. But these people weren’t just anyone. This building wasn’t just another building. 

For almost a decade, Kaz had fought for this gang. He had bled for it. He had killed for it. He had even cried for it. He had built it from the ground up and made it into something to be feared. The Dregs meant something because of him. And no matter how unsentimental Kaz Brekker was, the Dregs meant something to him. He’d have to cut his own tongue out if he ever said it out loud, but he was proud of them. 

As he stared at the burning building in front of him, another truth rang through his head. Your gang was your family. That was the law of the Barrel. Kaz had already lost his family before and he wasn’t going to lose it again. This fire was his fault and he wasn’t going to let more Dregs die because of him.

Without thinking, Kaz moved towards the burning Slat. He didn’t hesitate as he threw himself into the smoke and flames. 

If he thought the heat was bad outside, it was nothing compared to inside. Smoke and ash hit him like a wall. Thankfully, the fire originated in the upper floors. Quite possibly the attic, he realized with a jolt. That was a mystery to figure out later. But the main floor was only beginning to catch on fire. The air down here was slightly more breathable, but he still stumbled blindly through the clouds of smoke, dodging the flames that licked up the walls. He grabbed anyone he saw, shoving them towards clean air and safety. 

Eventually he made it to the staircase, but the steps between the second and first floor had caved in under the influence of the flames. A young girl, no older than eleven, sat hunched over on the second floor landing. 

“Help me! Please!” 

Kaz could barely hear her small voice over the roar of the flames. He could barely see her. And even though everything screamed at him to get out of the building, he didn’t leave. 

“You’re going to have to jump!” 

“What?”

He held out his arms, realizing for the first time he no longer had his cane. But it didn’t matter. “Jump!”

The girl stood on shaky legs and glanced down at the fire that stretched between her and Kaz. Kaz stepped as close as he could to the flames. He could feel the heat slowly melting his shoes. 

“When I count to three, you jump! Ready?”

The girl nodded and Kaz thanked Ghezen for her bravery. “One, two, three!”

She leapt and cleared the flames, landing in Kaz’s outstretched arms. His leg screamed at the sudden weight, but he didn’t drop her. He didn’t even wait to set her down before turning and running towards the exit. He was starting to feel light headed from breathing in the smoke and the wooden beams of the ceiling creaked ominously above them. They needed to get out of here. 

That was all he thought about as he ran, though he didn’t notice anyone else in the building. He couldn’t feel the way his leg protested beneath him or how his skin was slick with sweat. He didn’t even think twice about the way the girl latched onto his neck with her bare hands. All he focused on was the light from the Slat’s open front door. 

After what felt like a lifetime, he barely made it through the door into the fresh air before collapsing to his knees. The girl flew from his grasp, rolling to a stop a few feet in front of him. Anika was there in an instant, scooping the girl up in her arms. Her sister. It was then Kaz remembered Anika coming to him months ago asking if her younger sister could stay with them. Kaz had given her Inej’s old room. 

With great effort, Kaz raised to his feet, but almost collapsed again when his bad leg buckled beneath him. The doorframe of the Slat saved him from falling. He needed to get away from the building. He looked around for his cane and saw it laying on the stones ahead of him. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the few steps he’d have to take. 

He’d never make it there. 

He barely registered the sound of the gunshot before the bullet tore through his shoulder. The force alone knocked him off his feet and into the burning Slat. 

His fall knocked the air from his lungs and the next pained breath he took was smoke and ash. Fire surrounded him and all he could feel was the burning heat of the flames. Even the bullet wound in his shoulder faded in comparison to the fire. 

But he couldn’t breathe. Black spots filled his vision and he barely registered the fire that spread up the sleeve of his coat. 

All he saw were the flames before the world went dark.

Chapter Text

Inej urged her ship to move faster. Ever since she had overtaken The Chattel Rose, she had fled towards Ketterdam as fast as the winds could carry her. She stopped only once to drop off the newly freed captives with some of her crew and to send a letter of warning to Kaz. She’d been sailing ever since, trying to convince the weather to cooperate. Even the winds generated by her squallers didn’t feel fast enough. 

She had to admit they made record time. Ketterdam was in front of them, twinkling in the night sky. It was within reach yet so far away.

Too far away. 

“Captain!” 

Specht’s voice caught Inej’s attention, pulling her eyes away from Ketterdam’s skyline. It felt like looking away meant the city would shrink back into the horizon. The moment they docked she was ready to leap from her ship and take to the skies. She couldn’t waste anymore time. She knew her impatience shone on her face when her eyes met Specht’s. 

“Leigh spotted one of The Red Rose’s ships in Fifth Harbor,” Specht said. 

Goose flesh broke out over Inej’s uncovered arms. “What ship?”

“She didn’t say.”

Inej moved, scaling up the rigging with ease to the crows nest. Leigh startled at her silent appearance but handed her the long glass wordlessly. Inej peered into the glass in the direction Leigh indicated and sure enough a flagless ship sat in Fifth Harbor. Inej could barely make it out in the darkness, but the torches from the dock lit up the side of the ship. Painted on the wood was the name The Bloody Rose. Inej’s blood ran cold. It was Esben Ragnvald’s personal ship.

He had beaten her to Ketterdam. She could only hope he had yet to move his pieces into play. 

Inej handed the long glass back to Leigh before slipping back down to the main deck. They were almost to berth twenty two now and Inej could smell Ketterdam in all its glory. Her crew bustled around her prepping the boat to dock, but she crouched on the railing of the ship like a cat ready to pounce. Or an arrow ready to fly. 

“Saint’s speed, Inej,” Specht muttered behind her. 

Inej looked at him in gratitude. She had told him what Dungree had threatened and as the only crew member who knew about her relationship with Kaz, Specht was worried too. Not to mention, Specht had known Kaz for as long as Inej had. They both knew who he was, what he was capable of, and just how angry he could make his enemies. 

“I will fly, Specht.” Inej said, a smile on her lips. 

“Make the crows jealous of your wings.”

The ship reached the dock then and Inej’s feet had hit the ground before the ship stopped moving. Her nimble feet carried her across the nearly empty harbor, her eyes and ears alert. There was hardly anyone out at this time of night. It was getting late and only a few people lingered around the docks. Suddenly a ruckus broke out at the end of the pier near the crooked streets leading into Dregs territory. 

“Fire!” Someone yelled. Inej recognized them as Dregs. “The Slat is on fire!”

Inej didn’t even think when she reached the rooftops. She didn’t even have time to feel the familiar slopes and gables. All she saw was the smoke rising from the familiar silhouette of the Slat. The world seemed to freeze around her as she ran. 

For once in her life, Inej was convinced she flew. 

Inej rarely panicked. Well, it depended on the kind of panic. Sure, she had her fair share of panic attacks, disappearing into the recesses of her mind, but rarely did she feel panic like this. Her mind became scattered, her thoughts tripping over each other, and her vision blurred around the edges. All she could see in front of her was the Slat and the orange and white flames that burst through its windows. Stadwatch surrounded the building, trying to fight the fire. The sirens that pierced the air mingled with her panic.

She realized somewhere in the back of her mind that her panic was rooted in one thing: Kaz’s safety. It wasn’t the first time that she had feared he would be injured, or worse, killed. A memorable gang coup came to mind. She had raced along these very rooftops and perched on the beams of the Slat’s high ceilings. All she could do was sit there and watch as Kaz faced the entire gang alone. She had almost intervened and left a mountain of bodies for the stadwatch to find, but Kaz stopped her. He had to face them alone.

But this time, she truly felt helpless. She didn’t get here before Ragnvald, she couldn’t stop the flames, and worst of all, she had no idea if Kaz was alive.

Panicked welled up in her chest and Inej had to force it down. She took a deep breath and leapt over an alleyway onto the last rooftop before the fiery Slat. 

But just as she reached the roof’s edge, a gunshot rang out through the night, somehow distinguishable from the roaring fire. Inej whirled around to the adjacent roof and sure enough a man stood there, the barrel of his rifle still smoking. Inej glanced back at the Slat just in time to see a dark clothed figure disappear into the smoke and fire inside the Slat. 

Inej didn’t need to hear the Dregs shouts to know who it was.

Kaz.

The gunner didn’t even hear Inej’s rapid approach nor did he see her knife before it was lodged in his chest. Using her force and momentum, she sank the knife deep into his lungs and turned him around so his back was to the burning building. He grunted in pain, his rifle slipping through his fingers to the street below. 

“Who are you?” the man wheezed.

“The Wraith.”

That was all she said before his body joined his gun on the cobblestones.

Inej scanned the surrounding buildings for any sign of movement. When she found nothing, she jumped off the building to the street below. Swinging off a drain pipe, she hit the ground running towards the crowd of Dregs in front of the Slat. She pushed through their bodies until she reached the front. Her knees almost gave out at the sight in front of her. 

Pim and Roeder were heaving Kaz’s body out of the flames. He was completely covered in ash and the right sleeve of his coat had been burned away revealing the burnt layers of his jacket, shirt, and even his skin. They set him down as gently as they could before taking off their coats and patting down their smoking clothes. A red puddle began forming on the ground beneath Kaz’s right shoulder.

An image flashed through Inej’s mind of another day two years earlier. She could see Matthias laying in Nina’s arms, his blood staining the ground beneath them. There were desperate words spoken between desperate souls. A boy who only ever dreamed of her and a girl who would have to live without him. The city had felt cold then, so very different from the heat she felt now. But the desperation and the fear was the same. 

She had sprinted to them two years earlier, but now, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think. The oily voice of Leroy Dungree rattled around in her head. 

And if his death makes you cry, all the better.

But Kaz couldn’t die. He wouldn’t. Kaz Brekker didn’t just die. Through her panic, Inej noticed Anika's outstretched hands moving towards Kaz’s bare skin. It was enough to jolt Inej out of her shock. “Don’t touch him!”

“Inej?”

Inej ignored the shocked faces around her and knelt beside Kaz’s prone form. She paused, waiting to see if he was breathing, her hands hesitating over his body. A sigh of relief escaped her when she saw his chest rise and fall. It was shallow, but it was there. But that didn’t solve the problem of his injuries. Her emotions bubbled up again—the fear, the worry, the panic. It was overwhelming and she didn’t have time to let it distract her. She took a deep, steadying breath and shoved the emotions away. It was time for business. 

Shrugging off her jacket, she pressed it into the bullet wound on his shoulder to try and stop the bleeding. 

“We need to get him out of here,” Inej said, eyeing the rooftops warily. “Pim, Roeder, help me lift him.”

“Where are we going?” Roeder’s voice was small and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from the burning building in front of them.

“The Crow Club, for now.”

With some difficulty, Inej, Pim, and Roeder maneuvered Kaz into an empty parlor in the back of the gambling hall. Any activity inside the building had been disrupted by the fire and all the patrons were too busy watching the fire to notice the ashy criminals slinking through the back door. 

Inej felt disconnected from her body as she held Kaz’s head in her hands, walking backwards through the room. Her heart beat unevenly in her chest and her fingers thrummed with nerves. She’d treated bullet wounds, knife wounds, and all kinds of wounds that came with her line of work. But burns were another story. She’d only treated burns this bad once, and she had only been a passive help in the process. She prayed she remembered what to do. 

They set Kaz on one of the gambling tables. Inej didn’t know what Pim or Roeder would do now. She wouldn’t blame them if they went back to the fire, but instead they stayed. They fetched the medical supplies stashed in a hidden corner of the room and even set a bottle of alcohol next to Inej. Pim then positioned himself by the door, his big frame acting as a shield to any unwanted intruders. Roeder perched by the window, silent and alert. They were protecting their leader. Now it was Inej’s turn to stop him from dying. 

Carefully, she began peeling back the layers covering Kaz’s upper body. She started with the most pressing injury: his shoulder. She only peeled back enough to expose the wound to avoid any unnecessary exposure. She didn’t know what state he’d be in when he woke up and didn’t want to cause his body any more stress. 

The bullet wound in Kaz’s shoulder was, thankfully, a clean wound. There was a solid entry and exit point, starting at the front of his shoulder and ending a little lower down his back. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to dig out the bullet, she only hoped it hadn’t hit his lung. With practiced fingers, she cleaned the wound and quickly stitched together the opening in his back. The stitches were messy and would probably leave a nasty scar, but it would have to do. 

As she finished one of her stitches, Inej noticed Kaz’s face had gone pale and clammy. His breaths were short and rapid and his lips were tinted blue. Inej’s heart clenched. 

“Pim.” The man looked up from his position by the door. “I need you to lift up Kaz’s legs for me or find something to prop them up with.”

Pim did as Inej asked and gently scooped up Kaz’s legs. Worry lined his face as Inej continued her work with shaky hands. Kaz would rather die than have his men see him like this, but she couldn’t call them away. Not if she wanted him to actually die. He would just have to swallow his pride. 

“I’ve never seen him like this.” Roeder’s voice was quiet, but it shot around the room like a bullet. 

“Injured?”

“Dying.”

“He’s not dying,” Inej shot back, venom lacing her voice. “Not on my watch.”

Silence followed her words as Inej pushed down her anger. Kaz Brekker had survived too much to die now. She willed her hands to cease shaking as she continued on to stitching the wound on the front of his shoulder.

“He was injured trying to save us,” Pim said, his eyes locked on the burnt flesh of Kaz’s right arm. “He went back into the Slat to get others out.”

There was a tone of respect in Pim’s voice. Kaz was a Barrel Boss, the leader of the Dregs. He was rich beyond reason and held an unequivocal amount of power in the Barrel. But first and foremost, he was Dregs. He was one of them. They were family and they protected each other. If any of his Dregs had doubted that fact, Inej doubted they’d do so now. 

“Your gang is your family,” Roeder said, echoing Inej’s thoughts. “He was doing what he had to do to protect us.”

Inej said nothing and neither did Pim, but something in the room shifted. Inej couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew that their loyalty towards Kaz had increased. They gave him their respect. She hoped they knew that they had already gained his, even if he’d never say it. 

Inej tied a bandage around his shoulder and was relieved to find that he hadn’t grown paler. His breaths were still shallow, but they were steady. Now came the hard part. 

Looking down at his arm, Inej couldn’t help but cringe at the damage. The sleeve of his coat was burnt away and the jacket and shirt that covered his forearm was gone, revealing red, hot skin beneath it. As carefully as she could, she took off his coat and what remained of his jacket. However, it was with his shirt that she ran into her first problem. The heat of the fire had melted parts of the shirt to his skin. She didn’t want to find out what would happen if she tried to tear it off. One glance at his glove showed her a second problem: the fabric of his glove had melted as well. A small tug told her it was not moving any time soon. 

She ripped his sleeve off from the rest of his shirt and cut around the fabric that was stuck to his forearm, leaving the rest of his skin and his burns exposed. She could do nothing for the gloves. Inej wracked her brain trying to think of a solution. 

It hit her like a bullet out of a pair of Zemeni revolvers. 

“Roeder, I need you to go to the Van Eck Mansion. Bring Jesper back here.” 

Roeder left without complaint and at Inej’s instruction, Pim went to retrieve cold water and clean rags. Alone in the room, Inej felt like she was suffocating. Kaz was alive, but still unconscious. She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach. Someone had tried to kill Kaz, that much was obvious to her. They had almost succeeded. Esben Ragnvald almost succeeded. 

What would she do if Kaz died? She didn’t want to experience that dark emptiness she saw in Nina’s face. Two years ago, she would have been able to move on. Yes, she would have cried, but she would get over it. But now? Kaz was so much more to her now. Even though she didn’t stay in Ketterdam, he hadn’t given up on her and he kept trying to be better for her. Inej was sure she loved him. She’d stay strong if he died, but she wouldn’t be the same. She wasn’t sure she’d love again. 

But he’s not going to die. She had to keep reminding herself. She prayed to her Saints begging them to show mercy on him. 

When Pim came back with the requested items, Inej began dipping the rags into the water. Pim returned to his spot by Kaz’s legs, ready for any way he could help. Inej glanced at Pim out of the corner of her eye and something struck her as odd. 

“Why do you follow my orders without question?” Her voice sounded small to her ears. She didn’t look back at Pim and instead focused on laying cool, damp rags over Kaz’s burns.

Pim shuffled his feet. “Well, you’re the Wraith.”

Inej just looked at him. “I haven’t been in the gang for two years. My command holds no sway.”

“Brekker trusts you,” Pim explained, scratching at his head. “If he could, he’d tell us to listen to you. That was his command in the past. In Ketterdam or not, once a Dreg, always a Dreg.”

Inej looked down at the unconscious man in front of her. He was more of a boy, really. At nineteen years old, he was already the most feared person in the city. He wasn’t kind, he wasn’t good, but he had saved her. He made her into something to be feared. And he trusted her. He always had. And now his life was in her hands. 

“Wake up, shevrati.”

She prayed Jesper would get here fast.

Chapter Text

This was not how Jesper thought his day was going to end when he woke up this morning. 

But then again, it wasn’t everyday that a member of the Dregs showed up on your porch, covered in soot, with news that made your heart stop. 

“The Slat is…gone?” 

Jesper hated how weak his voice sounded at that moment. He felt like his feet had been swept out from beneath him and he didn’t know how far he was going to fall. Wylan’s hand on his back kept him grounded to the earth. 

“Yes,” Roeder, their unexpected messenger, responded. “And Kaz is wounded. Inej needs your help.”

“Inej?” Wylan had said. “Inej is here? I thought she wasn’t coming back for two months.”

“She didn’t say why, but she needs your help.”

They left then, heading towards the Crow Club. Jesper couldn’t see the smoke very well in the dark night sky, but he could smell it. Dread pooled in his stomach. The Slat wasn’t very homely, but just like the rest of the Dregs, he had called it home. The very idea of it being gone just felt wrong. 

“How bad is Kaz?” Wylan asked, as they neared the black building. 

Roeder didn’t look at him. “A sniper got him, knocked him back into the Slat. We were able to get him out before the roof collapsed, but his right arm was burned pretty bad.”

Burned . Jesper shared a look with Wylan before entering the Crow Club. Neither of them were mediks and Wylan was the only one with a rudimentary knowledge of burns—one of the perks of being a demolition expert. Jesper didn’t know why Inej asked specifically for their help, but Kaz and Inej were his best friends. There didn’t need to be a reason. He’d have come anyway. 

They followed Roeder through the backside of the Club before they found Inej. She was in one of the back parlors sitting beside the prone form of Kaz Brekker. Jesper couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped at the sight. He could count the number of times he’d seen Kaz asleep or unconscious on one hand and he’d been his second for years . The sight still put him on edge. An unconscious Kaz Brekker meant something was wrong. 

Inej looked up as they entered, relief coloring her features. The pure worry etched into her face was enough for Jesper to know that the alarm bells going off in his head weren’t just a ringing in his ears. It took a special person to worry over Kaz Brekker’s well-being and Inej’s concern was evident in her next words. “Thank the Saints, you’re here.”

Despite the tense atmosphere, Jesper smirked. “You think you’d get used to hearing that every time you walk into the room.”

“Jes…” Wylan sighed. 

“What?”

Wylan just shook his head. “Inej, Roeder said you needed our help?”

Inej turned back towards Kaz and began removing the rags that covered his right arm. His coat, jacket, and shirt had been partially removed revealing only his arm, shoulder, and part of his chest. The skin on his arm was red and angry. Patches of what used to be Kaz’s shirt stuck to his forearm and upon further inspection, his right glove was melted. 

“Remember that time my rubber shoes melted in an incinerator shaft?” Inej asked, her hands twisting in her lap. Jesper didn’t need the reminder; he didn’t think he’d ever forget what happened in the Ice Court. Especially a moment that left his biggest secret so exposed. 

“I need your help, Jes. I don’t know what to do.”

Jesper glanced at Roeder who perched at the window and Pim who he had somehow failed to notice by the door. Only a few individuals knew about Jesper’s so-called skill as a Fabrikator. He wasn’t confident in his abilities, not yet. He’d improved since the heist two years ago, but he wasn’t a trained Fabrikator or Durast or whatever the Grisha called themselves. He was just Jesper, a trigger-happy sharpshooter. The extent of Kaz’s injuries were a lot worse than Inej’s had been. He didn’t know if he could do it. But one look at Inej cemented his decision.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Jesper replaced Inej by Kaz’s side and stretched out his hands. Up close, Jesper could clearly see the ash, soot, and blood that caked Kaz’s skin and clothing. He looked like he had crawled out of hell. 

Jesper took a deep breath and focused his attention on the fabric stuck to Kaz’s arm. As gently as he could, he pulled the material away from his skin. It came off easier than he had expected and soon all that was left was the glove. He took a deep breath. It’s just like the rubber of Inej’s shoes. Except this time the garment hadn’t been removed. Nina had taken the shoes off Inej’s feet, but this time Inej couldn’t remove the glove.

“Inej, hand me one of your knives.”

The burns along Kaz’s wrist had started to swell making the already tight gloves tighter. The glove was also melted to the skin along the back of Kaz’s hand, but the side against his palm was free. Slipping the knife into the glove, Jesper cut through the glove's thumb. Thankfully, Inej’s knife was sharp and sliced through the leather without problem. Jesper repeated the motion on the other side. Thankfully, he didn’t nick his skin. Turning Kaz’s hand back over, he focused on the fabric of the glove. With some concentration, he was able to lift the glove away from the burned skin. Inej immediately stepped forward and slid the rest of the ruined glove off of Kaz’s hand. She replaced it with another rag. 

“To cool down the burns,” Inej explained when she noticed Jesper’s inquiring look. Wylan appeared by Kaz’s shoulder and replaced the rags that had been covering the burns on his arm. 

“What do we do now?” Jesper asked, eyeing the bandage wrapped around Kaz’s shoulder. 

“We wait for him to wake up.”

The trio stepped away from the prone boy in front of them, but none of them looked away. Jesper was only able to stay quiet for a minute before his questions became hard to contain. “What happened? Who did this?”

Inej didn’t look away from Kaz when she spoke. “Roeder, Pim, head back to the Slat. Find Anika and Rotty.” She then turned towards the two Dregs. “Bring the rest of the Dregs here, but keep them away from this parlor. The Crow Club will be our home now.”

Our home. Jesper didn’t miss Inej’s inclusion of herself and neither did Pim or Roeder. They nodded, cast one last look at their leader, then vanished back into the night to do as Inej instructed. 

Inej gestured towards the table adjacent to Kaz and Wylan and Jesper sat down. Inej followed and Jesper could see the exhaustion written across her face. He had a hunch that it had been far too long since she had a good night's sleep. Her and Kaz were the same that way. They stopped at nothing to make sure the other was safe. 

From her seat at the table, Inej made sure to have Kaz in her line of sight. She took a long glance at him before clearing her throat.  “I don’t know the details of what happened. My ship arrived in Ketterdam a little over a bell ago. The Slat was already in flames when I arrived.”

“What caused the fire?” Wylan’s question made Inej’s shoulders tense. 

“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure I know who started it.”

“Was it another gang?”

“No… Over a week ago I took down a ship that was a part of the biggest slaving fleet on the True Sea, the Red Rose. The captain told me that their leader was heading towards Ketterdam to destroy my collaborators in the city. I didn’t think he was being serious until he said Kaz’s name. He threatened Kaz’s life and I—“

Inej stopped talking then and unconsciously twirled one of her knives—Sankt Petyr—between her fingers. The blade fumbled in her hands and it’s sharp edge nicked her finger. She watched the blood pool in the small cut before wiping it off on her trousers. 

“I came here as fast as I could. I hoped to get here before the Red Rose did, but by the time I docked in the harbour, their ship was already here.”

“So you think they started the fire?” Jesper asked. 

“I didn’t have time to investigate, but it makes sense. I didn’t see their leader but I know he’s here.”

Wylan rubbed his chin in thought. “Who is their leader?”

A weak, raspy voice responded. “Esben Ragnvald.”

Jesper turned his head so fast he felt his neck kink. On the other table, Kaz was awake and staring at them with bloodshot eyes. Inej leapt up from her chair and was by his side in an instant. 

“Inej.” Kaz’s voice was rougher than usual, but it held a hint of tenderness that only happened when Inej was around. 

“Kaz,” Inej breathed, her hands floating over his. “You’re awake.”

A ghost of a smile twitched Kaz’s lips before his face scrunched in pain. Jesper took a step forward but stopped when Wylan’s hand found his own. He looked back at him and Wylan shook his head. 

“ Give him space,” he whispered, but his unspoken words floated between them. He doesn’t need us close by right now. 

Jesper sighed and took a step back. 

“What’s the damage?” Kaz hissed, his jaw clenched. 

“A bullet wound to the shoulder and burns down your right arm.” Inej answered. “Your glove melted to your hand, but Jesper was able to get it off.”

“And the Slat?”

The room fell quiet. The dread Jesper felt earlier came back full force. It was Wylan who answered. 

“Gone.”

“I sent Roeder and Pim to bring the others here.” Inej said softly. 

Kaz’s face had gone blank, but his eyes were deadly. If the Slat felt like home to Jesper or Inej, the feeling paled in comparison when it came to Kaz. Jesper didn’t know if Kaz ever had another home. If he did, the Slat was probably all he remembered. 

And now it was gone. 

Kaz began to say something, but his words dissolved into a coughing fit. The sound rattled around the room and deep within his lungs. He clutched his good arm to his chest and didn’t seem to notice Inej had grabbed his hand. When the coughing subsided, his breaths were quick and shallow. Inej looked back at Jesper and Wylan at a loss for how to help him.

Jesper knew nothing about the human body. He didn’t know why people reacted the way they did, but he knew people who did. An old memory suddenly bubbled to the surface of his mind, a conversation he once had with a heartrender. “Kaz, do your lungs hurt?”

Kaz’s head rolled to the side so he could squint in Jesper’s direction. “What do you think?”

His words were quiet and barely distinguishable between the rasp of his voice, but his sarcasm could be detected in the harbour.

“Nina once said inhaling too much smoke can cause damage to your lungs,” Jesper replied. “She talked about other stuff that I don’t understand but it might be smart to get you somewhere with cleaner air.”

The group looked around the room to find it oddly hazy. Smoke from the Slat oozed into the room from a window’s broken pane. You could smell it in the air. You could taste it.

“Where in Ketterdam would there be cleaner air?” Wylan said. “The whole city is full of smog and that’s on a good day.”

A furrow appeared between Inej’s brows. “But the Barrel is the worst. Anywhere is better than here.” 

“Well Kaz,” Jesper said. “Ready for a trip to the Van Eck mansion?”

Jesper only got a cough in response. 

After a few moments of debating the best way to carry a six foot, semi-conscious, half burned Barrel Boss, they all agreed that avoiding the streets of Ketterdam would play out in all of their favors. None of them knew if the Red Rose was still in the city and they preferred to be transporting an alive Kaz Brekker, not a dead one.

“Do we though?” Jesper said.

“Why is that even a question?” Wylan said. “Of course we prefer him alive!”

“Yeah but imagine the chaos we could make by publicly mourning his death in the streets!”

“I’m right here, you podge,” Kaz managed to rasp out at the same time Inej rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Jesper.”

“Isn’t our phrase ‘no mourners’?” Wylan said, raising an eyebrow.

“Let’s just get to the mansion.”

In the end, Kaz was conscious enough to walk, but just out of it enough to not care about the arm thrown over Jesper’s shoulders or the one Jesper snaked around his waist. Between his bad leg and new injuries, Jesper was supporting most of Kaz’s weight. Instead of walking through the city, Jesper and Wylan took the tunnel that Kaz had built under the Crow Club to the Geldin District. Inej took to the rooftops to alert the mansion and gather necessary supplies. Their progress through the tunnel was slow moving, but they were making good time.

“When did Nina talk to you about smoke inhalation?” Wylan asked somewhere in the middle of the tunnel.

Jesper just shrugged, but the gesture was lost around Kaz’s arm. “Nina rants about the weirdest things when she’s drunk.”

When they finally made it to the mansion, Inej was waiting for them. They laid Kaz, who had fallen unconscious near the end of the tunnel, on a bed in one of the guest rooms. Inej began replacing the bandages on his shoulder and carefully wrapped the rest of his burns in clean cloth. When she finished, she refused to leave Kaz’s side. Wylan and Jesper shared a look before leaving the room. 

“Linda is going to love cleaning the ash out of those sheets when he leaves.” Wylan said, leaning against the wall in the hallway outside of the room. Jesper mirrored him on the opposite wall.

“She’ll appreciate the challenge.” 

Silence fell between the pair, thick and heavy. The last couple of hours didn’t feel real and Jesper had no idea what the night’s events meant for the future of the Dregs. He didn’t even know what it meant for Kaz or Inej. Despite all of their precautions, a slaving fleet had attacked Kaz because of his associations with Inej. No one besides a select few people in Ketterdam even knew that Inej Ghafa was the captain of The Wraith . Fewer knew that Kaz Brekker was working in tandem with her to stop the onslaught of slavers. Even fewer knew the true nature of their relationship. Yet the Red Rose had pieced together the pieces anyway. 

“What now?” Wylan asked, his voice small in the silence of the hallway. 

“We wait.”

And wait they did. 

Neither Jesper nor Wylan had the desire to wander away from the hallway or go back to their normal nightly routine. It just didn’t feel right. So instead they sat down on the floor, backs against the wall, legs spread out in front of them. That was a couple hours ago. Jesper could no longer feel his backside, but Wylan was out cold with his head on Jesper’s shoulder. Not willing to wake his slumber, Jesper remained where he was and watched the sun rise through the window down the hall. 

Jesper was admiring the way the sunlight danced through the glass when a set of footsteps caught his attention. He looked towards the staircase and was surprised to see Anika standing at the top of the stairs. 

“The maid at the door said I’d find Kaz up here,” Anika said, shifting her weight nervously. 

Reluctantly, Jesper nudged Wylan awake and stood. He stumbled to his feet and helped a blurry eyed Wylan do the same. “Has something else happened?”

Anika swallowed. “I went back to the Slat this morning. I, uh, wanted to see if there was anything that could be saved. Instead, I found this nailed to the doorframe.”

Anika held out a piece of parchment that was remarkably clean except for the ashy smudge marks from Anika’s hands. There was a message scrawled in ink across the page and at the bottom was the image of a bloody rose. Jesper quickly scanned the words and he was sure he stopped breathing. 

Give me Kaz Brekker. For every day that passes I will kill five Dregs. I’ll start with the bastards in the Geldin District. 

Jesper thought Wylan summed up his thoughts very well: “I wish I stayed asleep longer.”

Chapter Text

Kaz regained consciousness slowly. At first, he felt nothing except the weight of his own body. For a moment, it tethered him to reality. The weight of his limbs reminded him that he was still alive. But then that moment ended and he felt like he was suffocating.

The pain came back to him then. His lungs burned, his skin burned, his throat burned. He could barely breath and all he knew was pain. He was nothing but a broken body that just couldn’t die. Yet every breath felt like death. 

Eventually his mind began to register his surroundings. It took a few more moments for him to make sense of them. He could tell he was laying in a bed with a thin sheet thrown over his legs. His chest felt painfully bare but his right arm was covered and elevated at his side. Between the pain radiating from his arm and the burning in his chest, his mind focused on a simpler, far less daunting fact: the bed was very comfortable. Far too comfortable to be his bed at the Slat. 

The Slat. 

Suddenly all the memories of the night’s events came flooding back to him. Roeder giving him a message, Ragnvald offering a deal, the Slat burning to the ground. He remembered a gunshot then darkness. What happened next was hazy and out of focus. He vaguely remembered a conversation and a painful walk through the dark tunnels beneath the streets of Ketterdam. Inej’s worried face stuck out the most and for a moment Kaz wondered if he had imagined her there. 

He sucked in a deep breath and his eyes flew open. Very quickly his lungs protested and Kaz swore his throat tore from the force of his cough. His vision blurred and it took him a moment to realize that the deep brown eyes staring at him were real and not some figment of his imagination.

“Kaz, drink some water. It will help.” Inej’s voice was soft, yet strong. Gentle, yet unyielding.

Kaz didn’t think twice about obeying. He barely had the energy to prop himself up let alone protest against Inej as she poured water into his mouth. He managed to swallow and as Inej had promised, the water did help even if it burned down the column of his throat. His cough subsided, but he could feel it on the edge of every rattling breath. 

“Where am I?” Kaz said, his voice a violet rasp. 

“The Van Eck Mansion,” she said. “You damaged your lungs breathing in too much smoke. The air was cleaner here.”

Kaz looked at the woman sitting beside him. She sat to his left, her left thigh parallel to his arm. She was close, but not quite touching. Her hair was braided back like always, except now it was a mess. Hair hung in front of her face and when she ran her fingers through her hair, he understood why. She still wore the loose white shirt and leather leggings that she preferred to wear at sea. Blood stained the shirt's sleeves and was splattered across her chest, but her hands were clean. He had a feeling that some of the blood was his. 

“What are you doing in Ketterdam?” 

“I came to warn you.” Inej looked at him, exhaustion evident in her eyes. “I knew Ragnvald was heading towards Ketterdam and that he was coming for you. I came as fast as I could, but he got here first.”

She didn’t have to speak the next words for Kaz to understand. I wasn’t able to save you. It’s my fault you got hurt. 

Kaz lifted his good hand and gently brushed the tips of his fingers over her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. 

“None of this was your fault,” he whispered. “I don’t blame you for anything.”

Inej opened her eyes and for a moment, everything that happened faded away. He wasn’t an injured crime boss that a slaver tried to kill. He was just a nineteen year old boy who had missed his girl. But a sharp wave of pain jolted him back to reality. He scowled and looked down at his bandaged arm. 

“Though if this scars, I’m blaming you.”

Inej laughed softly and rolled her eyes, leaning out of his touch. “That I can handle.”

She grew quiet then, her smile slipping off her face. The hairs on Kaz’s neck stood on end. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“When Roeder and Pim pulled you out of the Slat, you were covered in blood.” Inej didn’t look at him. “All I could think of was Matthias and how pale he looked. I was afraid of losing you.”

“You saved me, Inej,” Kaz said. He didn’t know exactly what had happened after he was shot, but he knew that without her he’d be in a very different state. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Inej’s smile returned gently like a sunrise. Kaz found himself basking in her light. He still could hardly breathe and he was pretty sure it was messing with his head, but Inej still looked as beautiful as ever. 

The pair was interrupted by a rather urgent knock at the door. Inej slipped off the bed to see who was on the other side. Once she saw who it was, she quickly opened the door to let the new arrival in. Jesper and Wylan walked into the room with Anika in tow. 

Jesper and Wylan looked rumpled, like they’d slept the better part of the night on the floor, but compared to the two young men, Anika was a mess. Everything from her face to her boots was covered in ash and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. The ash turned her fair skin and blonde hair gray like a ghost. As Kaz sat up and caught a glimpse at himself, he knew he looked the same.

“What business, Anika,” Kaz said, his voice an ugly rasp. 

“I left the Crow Club this morning to see the damages of the fire.” She hesitated, rolling the words around in her mouth before speaking them. “There was a note nailed to what was left of the Slat.”

She glanced at Jesper, who stepped forward with a piece of parchment in his hands. He held it out towards Kaz, who took it with a sinking feeling in his gut. Neither mentioned how the paper shook in their hands. Kaz wasn’t so sure whose hand was unsteady. He looked at the letter. 

The first thing he noticed was the seal at the bottom—a rose dripping with blood. It was Esben Ragnvald's personal seal. Kaz had intercepted enough letters and receipts of payment to recognize any Red Rose correspondence. This seal wasn’t one he saw very often and it never meant something good. Ragnvald only stepped in when it was important and what was important to a slaver hardly ever meant good news for Kaz’s line of work. 

But Kaz already knew Ragnvald was serious. He had the wounds to prove it. So does Ragnavld. A shattered ankle came to mind. 

He read the letter. 

Give me Kaz Brekker. For every day that passes I will kill five Dregs. I’ll start with the bastards in the Geldin District. 

The cold sweep of fear and the hot fire of rage simultaneously engulfed Kaz’s senses. The letter blurred and this time the letter really did shake in his hands. Hadn’t Ragvald made his message clear enough? But Kaz wasn’t one to talk. When had he ever shown mercy or restraint? Multiple occasions came to mind but they evaporated in his rage. 

No one threatens the Dregs. You mess with them and you mess with Dirtyhands. That was the cold hard truth of the Barrel. The Dregs fell under his protection and Dirtyhands wasn’t known for being kind, especially when threatened. For the last two years, the Dregs had sat on top of the Barrel and Kaz intended to keep it that way. They were feared for a reason.

But then Kaz read the last sentence again and his anger stuttered.

I’ll start with the bastards in the Geldin District. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out who Ragnvald was talking about. It was common knowledge that Jesper had once been a part of the Dregs and that Wylan was associated with them in some way, but ever since Kuwei’s auction, Kaz had tried his best to keep their involvement in his schemes under the radar. No one in Ketterdam knew the extent of their relationship with him and they were all determined to keep it that way. Ragnvald couldn’t have known the truth. He had to be working off rumors and guesses. It was the only thing that made sense. But Ragnvald had taken these rumors and threatened Kaz’s gang. His family. 

Then a realization struck Kaz like a thunderbolt. 

They were being threatened because of him. He did his best to keep the Dregs separate from what he did to help Inej, but many times he needed their help. They got nothing out of stopping people like Ragnvald but they did it because he asked. And now because of that, their lives were being threatened. He was supposed to protect them, not kill them. 

“None of this was your fault,” Inej said from beside him, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“It doesn’t seem that way,” Kaz shot back.

Inej sat quiet for a moment. “What does Ragnvald want from you?”

Kaz shot a look at the other three in the room. Anika stood near the door, her face blank, but her eyes were scared. Jesper and Wylan stood closer to the bed, their hands clasped together with the same look of worry clouding their features. He turned back to Inej. “You.”

“Me?”

“He knows I have a connection with The Wraith. ” Kaz rasped, remembering the events in the safehouse that felt far too long ago. “He tried to make a deal with me. I give him vital information on The Wraith and in return, he gives me first picks on his newest batch of slaves and a third of his earnings.”

“And you said no.” It wasn’t a question.

Kaz nodded. “Then the news reached us that the Slat was on fire. I have reason to believe it was Ragnvald that started it.”

“Now Ragnvald is targeting the Dregs to get to you.”

“He’s smart.”

This time it was Anika who responded. “What are you going to do?”

Kaz was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I can’t risk the safety of the Dregs, but I can’t let Ragnvald get what he wants.”

Silence fell over the room and Kaz looked at Inej, searching for answers in her dark eyes. Going to Ragnvald meant safety for the Dregs. Kaz knew he’d be tortured, interrogated, and more to get information on Inej’s ship. He could always lie, give them false leads. But Ragnvald had pieced together mere rumors and unrelated facts to figure out the connections between Kaz, Jesper, Wylan, and Inej, even if Ragnvald didn’t realize it was her. Kaz knew Ragnvald would be able to piece the truth out of his lies. So if he surrendered to Ragnvald, he’d be surrendering Inej too. 

But if he did nothing, his gang would die. His title of King of the Barrel would be lost. No one would want to join a gang where you have a guaranteed chance of death. None of the Dregs would ever respect him again if he sacrificed his own like that. He would lose everything and all his work would be for nothing. 

There had to be another option. Something other way of getting out of this situation. It shouldn’t end like this. He tilted his head, his eyes unfocusing as he thought. There had to be something. 

“You have to die.”

Kaz blinked, unsure if the pain was muddling his mind. “What?”

“You have to fake your death,” Inej said, her eyes soft yet persistent. “No one has seen you since you were at the Slat. Ragnvald probably already knows of your injuries, but he doesn’t know you’re alive. So we fake your death. Then you disappear. Go somewhere where they can’t find you until this all blows over.”

Silence stretched between them as what she was suggesting loomed in front of him. The burns on his right arm were still hot from the fires that turned the Slat to ash. He could feel the ash on his face, in his hair, in his lungs. He considered Inej’s words and realized they rang true. It could work. Immediately his mind began sorting through possibilities and outcomes. It just might work if they did it right. 

“She’s right.” It was Jesper who spoke. “If you don’t like the odds, change the game. If Ragnvald thought the whole gang knew information about The Wraith , he wouldn’t have made the effort of targeting you. With you out of the picture, the threat is gone and Ragnvald will leave.”

“Hopefully.” Inej added. “Slavers like to be unpredictable.”

“He still might come after the Dregs,” Kaz said. 

Anika stepped forward. “We can handle it. He might think he’s smart for destroying the Slat and attacking our leader, but all he’s done is make us angry. The Dregs are loyal to you, Kaz. They’ll fight for revenge.”

Kaz took a deep breath. “You know half the Barrel will try to take a grab at the Dregs when they know I’m gone.”

“Then don’t be gone for long,” Anika said. “We can handle the Barrel in the meantime.”

Kaz’s mind was whirling. Yesterday morning he woke up thinking it was going to be another chaotic day in the Barrel. It definitely was chaotic, but not in the way he expected. His home was gone, his gang had been threatened, and now he had to fake his death. He still wasn’t sure if all of this was real. He would be leaving Ketterdam for an unknown amount of time. Someone would have to lead the Dregs in his absence. 

“Anika,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. “I want you to lead the Dregs while I’m gone.”

Anika’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated. Kaz expected to see the greed reflecting in her eyes, but instead all he saw was respect. Yes, she was his lieutenant, but she wasn’t like him. She didn’t lust after his position the same way he had with Per Haskell. 

“I’ll take care of them,” Anika said. “You can trust me.”

Kaz nodded, but said nothing. On the other side of the room, Wylan shifted. 

“Where are you going to go?” He asked. “You know they're going to be watching any ship that leaves Kerch.”

“So we don’t leave Kerch,” Inej said, leaning against the bed. “That way we can stay close enough that we can receive updates from Ketterdam.”

“We?” Jesper asked. 

“Yes. It’ll be safest for everyone if we all leave the city. Ragnvald already suspects a connection between us all.”

“So we all leave the city, but we stay in Kerch,” Wylan said. “But where are we going to go without raising suspicion? Two of us are foreigners and the rest are from Ketterdam.”

“You’re the only one from Ketterdam, Wylan.” 

It was almost comical the way everyone looked at Kaz with their eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Only Inej didn’t look surprised as she looked at him with an expression he couldn’t name. 

“What do you mean?” Jesper spluttered. 

Kaz took a deep breath. “I know a place they won’t think to look.”

“Where is that?”

“A farm near Lij.”

Three hours later, they had their plan. 

“Are you sure about this?” Inej said from her position on the window seal. The others had left a while ago, setting out to enact their parts of the plan. Kaz stood shirtless in front of the vanity, carefully peeling off the bandages Inej had wrapped around his burns. The scene felt familiar, but completely different. It wasn’t the same as the attic of the Slat and the thought made Kaz’s heart twist painfully in his chest. 

“Yes,” he said. He had to be sure. 

Once he got all the bandages off, he looked down at his arm. He had yet to see the damages from the fire and the sight made his stomach turn. His right bicep and forearm were covered in ugly red and white burns. They went right up to the bandages from the bullet wound at his shoulder. His hand and forearm were the worst. Those burns covered nearly the whole expanse of his forearm and dipped down over the back of his hand. His Dregs tattoo was almost unrecognizable. He didn’t know how that made him feel. 

He felt Inej come stand beside him. She held out a container of clear substance and some fresh bandages. “Put this on the burns before reapplying the bandages. It will help it from getting infected.”

Kaz took the offered items from Inej and did as she instructed. Silence fell between them as he worked but Kaz would tell something was on Inej’s mind. He began rewrapping the bandages when he finally mentioned her unease. 

“What is it, Wraith?”

Inej let out a frustrated breath at the nickname, but answered him anyway.

“You don’t have to go to the Reaper’s Barge,” she said. Kaz held back a sigh. It wasn’t the first time she had brought this point up. “You could be brought to The Wraith .”

“No.” The word came out harsher than Kaz intended and he choked on a cough. “It has to be this way. Bringing me to The Wraith would only give Ragnvald evidence of my connection to you.”

“But Kaz—”

He cut her off. “No, Inej. It’s the Reaper’s Barge or nothing. We have to make it believable. I’m a street rat. I won’t get special treatment when I actually die.” Something akin to pain flashed across Inej’s face. “No funerals, remember? No one comes back from the Reaper’s Barge.”

No one except me. 

He swallowed down the bile that rose up his throat at the mere thought of the Barge. Inej didn’t know about his connection to that cursed sick boat, but she wasn’t his best spider for nothing. She knew it made him uncomfortable and she knew this part of the plan terrified him more than anything.

But he still couldn’t tell her why. 

I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.

He physically shoved the thought away by tying off the last bandage and turning away from Inej. Water lapped around his ankles and the familiar tilt of Jordie’s voice taunted him in his mind. 

“I’ll make sure it’s my crew members on the Barge.” Inej’s voice sliced through his chaotic mind, rippling the water. “That way if anything happens, you won’t be alone.”

Kaz couldn’t look at her. Alone. Alone with nothing but corpses . Unease wormed its way into his stomach and made it hard to breathe. He tried to focus on something, anything besides the water trying to pull him under and the haunting whispers of ghosts around him. But all he could hear was an echo of a boy who was once utterly and completely alone.

Help me! I’m alive! Please! I’m alive!

Kaz forced himself to take as deep of a breath as his damaged lungs would allow. He had stopped moving and his hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists. The air on his bare skin suddenly became too much and he struggled to pull on a clean shirt. He got his arms through the sleeves but he wasn’t able to button it up. 

Can you do this, little brother? Are you ready to see me again?

He tried to get Jordie’s voice to stop, but it reverberated around his mind. Suddenly all he could see was Jordie’s corpse beneath him. He felt like something had broken inside of him as panic made his insides clench. He was already drowning and he wasn’t anywhere near the sea.

“Kaz, look at me.”

At the sound of her voice, the storm brewing in Kaz’s mind slowed. Her eyes were like a lighthouse, leading him towards the shore. A shore he didn’t know if he would ever reach. She continued speaking and at first, Kaz struggled to make out the words. 

“Ross is the heartrender in my crew. He will keep your heart rate low to help you appear dead. They will then take you to the Barge after nightfall. My crew will intercept the boat and bring you to my ship.” Her voice dictated business and Kaz listened. His mind scrambled to pick up the pieces of their plan and it latched onto them. Mindless details slipped into place and it gave foundation to his thoughts. It comforted him. “From there, we head towards Lij and the farm Colm pretended to own in the auction.”

The mention of Lij almost sent Kaz’s control tumbling, but Inej’s voice kept him grounded, just like it always had. 

“We lay low for a few days before Jesper meets us in Lij with updates from Ketterdam.” Slowly the water began receding and the haunting whispers quieted. “Wylan arrives next with more updates. From there we make a plan for how we should proceed.”

“And then we kill Ragnvald.” Kaz finished, his voice emotionless.

“And then we kill Ragnvald,” Inej repeated. 

Kaz took another breath and closed his eyes. He felt a familiar sense of shame flare up in his chest. Once more, Inej had seen the weakness he couldn’t destroy. The one monster he couldn’t beat. He had a feeling she was going to see a lot more when she fished him out of the Reaper’s Barge. But when he opened his eyes and saw her staring patiently at him, he remembered that he wasn’t the only one broken. She had been broken too. But the difference was he knew exactly how she had been shattered and he had watched her put the pieces back together. 

Without armor. 

Suddenly, the idea of someone else knowing what happened all those years ago felt enticing. For once in his life, Kaz didn’t want to be alone anymore. He wanted Inej to understand what he felt and what he saw anytime he tried to get closer to her. He wanted her to see where he had cracked and how he hadn’t been able to put the pieces back together. It terrified him, but he knew that she would never judge him for his ugliness or condemn him for his crimes. She wasn’t like the Saints she believed in. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew she wouldn’t leave him. Because that’s what she did. 

She always came back. 

He would tell her. When this night was over, he would tell her the truth, the full story. He would bring his armor down. Not because he had figured out how to take it off, but because he was tired of the weight and the pain. Because he didn’t have to be alone. 

Kaz opened his eyes with a new sense of determination thrumming through his veins. He pulled his shirt together and finished buttoning it up. He then grabbed the pair of gloves resting on the vanity and carefully slipped the familiar leather over his hands. The right glove didn’t fit right with the bandages wrapped over his palm, but he put it on anyway. He was going to need it for what came next. 

“Come on,” he said, straightening his shoulders as best he could. He pressed the familiar head of his cane in his hand. “We have a death to fake.”

Inej followed Kaz out of the room and he didn’t miss the relief that flashed across her face. Her presence at his back was comforting as he stride forward into the uncertain future. 

Chapter Text

The sea was rough tonight. The cloudless night sky of yesterday was gone, replaced by thick clouds and fog that rolled into the streets of the city. It was fitting, Inej thought as she rowed across the waves toward the flatboat in the distance. There wouldn’t be anyone enjoying the sight of the stars tonight.

The water in the harbor churned and rolled as if reacting to the tension that filled Inej’s body. She hadn’t slept at all in two days and she was starting to feel the exhaustion in her bones. Between the Slat burning to the ground and Kaz almost dying, she hadn’t even had a chance to close her eyes. When those moments of silence did come, her anxiety kept her awake. Specht had tried to convince her to stay on the ship and get some rest, but she couldn’t rest now. Not until she had Kaz back safe aboard The Wraith. 

They were approaching the Reaper’s Barge now and the stench was almost unbearable. Specht, who rowed the dinghy beside her, covered his nose with his shirt. “Ghezen, I hate this place.”

Inej couldn’t help but agree with him. No one came close to the Reaper’s Barge. It floated like a leper around the harbor, collecting and disposing of the city’s dead. The very air around it was heavy with the unfortunate souls who found their rest in its hold. The boat was always lurking in the background of Barrel life as a constant reminder of their unavoidable fate—an unrecognized grave with no funeral and no one left to mourn. It was heartless and cold. It was no wonder everyone said it’s name with a hint of fear. 

Even Kaz Brekker, the man who inspired fear, had a very real terror in his eyes when he spoke of the Reaper’s Barge. But Inej knew, deep down, that his fear was different than anyone else’s. His fear wasn’t from something in the future, it was from experience. The haunted look in his eye back at the Van Eck mansion reminded Inej of a cornered animal. It reminded her of herself when the nightmares of her time at the Menagerie became too much. Something had happened to Kaz and somehow the Reaper’s Barge was involved, but she had no idea what it could possibly be. 

And now he was on the flatboat with no one except strangers and corpses. 

Anticipation pooled in her stomach and Inej began to row faster. Specht matched her pace and they crept closer to their destination. The Barge was wrapped in fog, but Inej could see the silhouettes of the men on board. She didn’t expect the hazy sight that awaited her. Two of the men stood in the middle of the flatboat, their backs to the pile of corpses that were its ever present passengers. A third man stood on the far end of the boat, as far away from the dead bodies as possible. Inej's heart almost stopped when she recognized who it was.

Kaz.

Kaz wasn’t supposed to be awake, she thought wildly. Ross was supposed to keep him unconscious until they got him off the Barge. 

Inej stood and ran to the edge of the dinghy. Specht grabbed her ore before it slipped into the sea and rowed in her place, keeping the boat moving forward. She strained to see what was happening through the fog, but couldn’t make out more than blurry shapes and subtle movements. They weren’t far away from the flatboat now, but the fog and the haze was still too thick to make anything out. She could see that Kaz still stood on the far end of the barge. His shoulders were hunched and his arms were in front of him, ready to strike. 

Then the wind shifted and the fog began to lift. Inej could see Kaz’s face now and the sight made her heart lurch. Kaz never let his emotions show openly unless it was to manipulate someone else. Inej was the only exception, but even she hadn’t seen this amount of pure fear on his face before. He looked half mad with the whites of his eyes flashing in the darkness. 

Now that Inej could see him, Ross could as well. The heartrender’s hands moved and Kaz’s body went slack, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His bad leg gave out beneath the sudden weight of his unconscious body and he toppled backwards into the sea. 

Inej leapt from the dinghy before the others had a chance to react. She dove into the waves and came gasping to the surface as the cold harbor water took the air from her lungs. She felt the chill in her bones. The water was cold enough to wake the dead. In front of her, she could see Kaz, now conscious, fighting to stay above the water. 

She pushed through the churning water, desperation in every stroke. Kaz, who she could never sneak up on, for once didn’t see her coming. Her grip on his upper arm sent a violent shutter through his body. He tried to pull his arm out of her grasp, but it only sent him back under the waves. Inej pulled sharply on his arm to keep his head above the water.

“Let go of me, Jordie,” Kaz spat, his dark hair spilling down the front of his face and into his eyes. Inej loosened the grip on his arm. Jordie?

“Kaz, it's me,” she said, leaning into his line of sight. “It’s Inej.”

At the sound of her voice, he stopped struggling, but his body was still rigid in the water. His eyes met hers and Inej didn’t recognize the wild look she found there. He looked unhinged. He could barely focus his gaze on her and his dark eyes kept slipping back to the flatboat beside them. 

“Kaz, look at me. You’re going to be okay.” 

Kaz looked at her again and she saw recognition flicker in his eyes. “Inej.”

But the momentary peace in Kaz’s expression vanished as Specht’s large hands grabbed his shoulders and hauled him out of the water. He flopped onto the bottom boards of the dinghy but a second later he was up, his fists swinging. Specht jumped back to dodge one of Kaz’s attacks, making the boat rock dangerously to one side. Inej grabbed the edge of the moving hull and launched herself into the boat. “Get back! Give him room. Don’t touch him!”

Immediately Specht obeyed, leaping to the opposite end of the small boat. His movement sent them rocking once more and it was enough to knock Kaz off his feet. He hit the wooden planks hard and didn’t move for a long moment. Inej stepped closer to him as Kaz sat up, his back pressed into the side of the dinghy. His breath came out as a wheeze, shallow and fast and his eyes were unfocused. Inej didn’t even acknowledge her two crew mates as they boarded the dinghy from the Reaper’s Barge. Her focus was entirely on Kaz. 

“Kaz,” she said softly, making sure she approached him in his line of sight. His eyes snapped to hers but she wasn’t sure if he actually saw her. “Kaz, you’re alright.”

Kaz’s breath rattled in his lungs but he said nothing. His whole body was shaking and his skin was deathly pale. Inej noticed fresh blood oozing out of the bullet hole in his coat. He must have reopened the wound. Inej returned her focus back to his face and noticed his eyes were no longer wide with panic. Instead, they were as cold as stone and narrowed in her direction. Inej recognized that look. 

Dirtyhands. 

Inej held up her hands, palms facing Kaz. She hoped he recognized her enough through his panic to realize she was not a threat. “Kaz, we’re not going to hurt you.”

It was then the wind shifted, blowing hard across the water. The waves swelled, sending the Reaper’s Barge into their small boat. The raft lurched and Inej stumbled forward, but before she could stop herself, her hands landed directly on Kaz’s chest. 

Before she could even move, Dirtyhands swung. “Get away from me!”

The back of his fist connected with the side of Inej’s face and she saw stars. The force of the punch sent her sprawling away from him into the dinghy’s center seat. She heard her crew move to defend her but she threw out her arms. 

“Stop!” She cried, blood from her split lip filling her mouth. They froze. “Don’t come any closer! Ross, calm him down.”

She didn’t look anyway from Kaz, who was curled up next to her, his arms over his head. He was a mess. His shoulders heaved as he gagged and coughed, his panic overtaking his body. If Ross didn’t calm him down soon, his body would do the work for him. 

Ross took a small step forward and lifted his hands. Just as he had on the Reaper’s Barge, Kaz’s body went slack as his heart rate lowered and he fell unconscious. His head rolled back, resting against the hull, exposing the long column of his neck and his fists opened, releasing the tension in his fingers. Inej’s heart broke at the sight of him. He didn’t look at all like the boy the city was afraid of. He looked broken. 

“What happened?” she asked, as Specht and Leo, the other member of her crew, began rowing the boat back towards The Wraith. 

“The waves knocked the boat around, breaking my concentration,” Ross said softly, his eyes not once looking away from Kaz. “I wasn’t able to keep him unconscious. Then the fog came in and it was too thick for me to see properly. I have poor eyesight, it makes me a poor heartrender.”

“You did your best,” Inej said. “You didn’t know how he’d react to being on the Reaper’s Barge.”

Neither did I. 

Silence settled over the dinghy as they made their way across the harbor. Inej could tell they had questions about Kaz and his wild behavior, but they didn’t voice them and she didn’t answer. She didn’t know how she would answer. There were still answers he had yet to give. 

It was just half past two bells when they made it back to The Wraith. For once, she was grateful for the fog as it concealed her ship from prying eyes.  Inej silently thanked the Saints. With this weather, they’d be able to slink out of Ketterdam’s harbors unnoticed. She prayed it would be smooth sailing between here and Lij. She had already had enough excitement for the night.

Her crew heaved their dinghy up the side of the ship and fastened it down. Inej turned her attention back to Kaz. The last thing Inej wanted to do was to have anyone touch Kaz again, but he couldn’t stay in the dinghy once they boarded the ship. So in the end it was Specht who brought him out of the small boat and across the ship into her quarters. It was quiet here, far away from anyone else. Specht laid Kaz on the bed in the corner.

“Will he be alright?” Specht asked as he moved to leave the room. 

Inej looked up at her second-in-command. His brow was creased with worry. “Yes,” she said softly. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

Specht nodded and slipped out the door. 

Now that she was alone, she let out a shaky breath. Her shoulders drooped and she gingerly touched the bruise that was forming on her cheek. It was going to look nasty in the morning. Her split lip had stopped bleeding, but it too was swollen. Kaz had a hard swing even in his weakened state, but she didn’t blame at all for what happened. But she knew, deep down, he’d blame himself. 

With a sigh, Inej sat down on top of her desk, facing Kaz on the bed. He was still unconscious though Ross assured her that he would wake up soon. She didn’t know what state he’d be in when he awoke and she couldn’t get his terrified expression out of her mind. 

Let go of me, Jordie. 

Kaz had spat at her with such venom and fear. But the phrase felt worn, as if Kaz had said it, or thought it before. Jordie. Inej knew the name, even if she didn’t know it well and it reminded her of brawls in clock towers and secrets whispered on windy rooftops. 

What do you think my forgiveness looks like, Jordie? 

Kaz had spat the name at Jesper all those months ago. A frightened look had crossed his face then, similar to the one he had on the Reaper’s Barge, but it was replaced by the cold, angry mask he wore most often. That was the first time she had heard the name and she hadn’t let it go. She tucked it away to figure out later after everything was over and the dust had cleared. 

It took longer than Inej expected for things to calm down. Her life became a whirlwind after Kuwei’s auction, filled with miracles and dreams made real. She saw her parents again, received her ship, and built her crew. Days blended into weeks and before she knew it she was set to leave Ketterdam to save innocent souls and find her destiny out at sea. But before she could leave there was something she had to do first.

She had met Kaz on the roof of the Slat, the sun setting before them. Wind whistled around the buildings’ chimneys and birds coasted in the burning sky. Her crows, the ones she loved and fed, hopped happily around them and took turns diving into the open air. Kaz sat next to her and he stared into the blazing sun. 

She felt comfortable in their silence, but she was also conflicted. She was excited to leave, elated even, but the thought of losing this—the easy silence, the steady routine, the sturdy company—filled her with unease. She had found a home in Ketterdam, not in the city itself or in a certain building, but here in moments like these. She craved the way she never had to disappear or become invisible. She always felt seen. She realized then, with a strange twist in her stomach, that she had found a home there with Kaz. And she wondered, not for the first time, if he had found one with her.

That was why she had asked the question. She needed proof, evidence that he felt the same, that he was comfortable enough with her to be open with her, to take down his walls and his armor. She needed a reason to come home when the lure of the sea became too much and all she needed was the silence, the routine, but most importantly, the company. So she had squared her shoulders, turned to Kaz and asked the question that had bothered her for weeks.

“Who’s Jordie?”

Inej watched as Kaz’s stiffened, his hands fisting at his sides and the warmth in his eyes disappearing behind his mask. Her heart had sunk as she watched him cling to the armor around him, but then he sighed, his body loosening ever so slightly. He flexed his hands in his gloves, watching the leather tighten. His voice was rough and quiet when he answered.

“Jordie was my brother.”

“What was he like?”

There was a long pause as Kaz thought. “He was a lot like Jesper,” Kaz said, barely above a whisper. “Reckless, greedy… He had big, impossible dreams.”

Dreams that never came true.  

At the time, her curiosity had been appeased and she didn’t ask him anymore about Jordie or what happened to him and why Kaz never spoke of him. But as the months turned into years, she wondered, she had questions, but she hadn’t gotten any more answers. Kaz had opened up to her in different ways but she had always felt that the truth surrounding his brother’s death was something he was not willing to share just yet. And now she had a better understanding of why. 

Jordie had been killed by Pekka Rollins, that much Kaz had told her. She didn’t know the exact cause of death, but it had happened after Rollins had left them with nothing and they were forced to the streets. It could have been disease, or hunger, or a bad run-in with the wrong person, but whatever it was, it tied Jordie directly with the Reaper’s Barge in Kaz’s mind. She was at a loss for why it caused such a strong, negative reaction in him. 

She prayed that one day Kaz would be able to tell her why.

She looked back at Kaz then. He was still unconscious, but he didn’t look peaceful. His brow was furrowed and the lines were tight around his mouth. He looked uncomfortable. His clothes were still damp and they clung to him at awkward angles, but Inej refused to touch him now. The wound on his shoulder was still bleeding and would need restitching, but that was something she would tackle later when he woke up. She hoped he woke up soon.

As if he was in tune with her thoughts, Kaz opened his eyes. His hands tightened around the sheets at his sides. Inej watched his chest rise and fall in quick, panicked breaths. She could see his eyes frantically tracing the beams above him, trying to piece together where he was. His eyes caught on the silk scarf hanging near the window. It was a gift from her mother and Inej saw the moment he put the pieces together. He turned his head then, his eyes searching for something else, and his gaze landed on her.

She said nothing for a long moment, a conflicting array of emotions warring inside of her. “It’s good to see you awake.”

The furrow in between Kaz’s brow deepened, but his breathing seemed to slow to a more relaxed pace. His coffee eyes stared back at her, haunting her every step as she moved closer. She kept her pace slow and controlled. When she reached the edge of the bed, Kaz shifted away from her, unable to hide the flash of panic in his eyes. 

Inej took a step back.

“Where am I?” Kaz asked, his voice deeper and raspier than normal. The scene was so similar to the one that had happened earlier that morning. Her cheek burned at the memory of his fingertips pressed gently to her cheek. Except this time there was a gap between them and her cheek throbbed with a forming bruise.

“The Wraith ,” Inej answered. “We’re heading towards Lij.”

Kaz closed his eyes and sighed, his body pressing farther into the mattress. His face was still troubled and Inej could see that his hands were shaking.

She wanted to ask him what happened to make him like this, but she stopped before the words could leave her lips. She had asked before in the Geldrenner bathroom, surrounded by gold and white. He’d deflected the question and tried to remind her of all the horrible things he’d done instead. He had pushed her away in his fear and in his pain. Inej knew he was worse tonight. She’d never seen him this broken before. So she stayed quiet and didn’t pry. 

He’d come to her when he was ready. He always did. 

Inej moved further away and sat down once more on her desk. She tried to keep her voice as normal as possible when she spoke. “Your shoulder is bleeding. It might need to be stitched again.”

Kaz looked down at his shoulder and with some effort, sat up, leaving blood on the sheets behind him. Carefully, he peeled back the layers he wore and cursed softly. He shrugged off his wet jacket from his shoulders and Inej could see blood blooming across the white shirt beneath. He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. His leather gloves, still damp from his spill into the ocean, did not make things any easier. Inej’s hands ached to help him, but she knew she couldn’t. Her space would help him more than anything.

A strange feeling of helplessness washed over Inej and her hands felt heavy. She needed to do something. Standing up, she moved around the room, collecting the supplies he would need to stop the bleeding and rebandage his arm. She carefully set them down on the bed beside him. He nodded his head in gratitude.

It didn’t take Kaz long to get rid of the bloodied garment and he made quick work of the bandages covering the wound. The stitches had, in fact, been broken and the wound reopened. Fresh blood oozed out as Kaz’s shoulder continued to move. He wiped up most of the blood and picked up a needle and thread. Inej just watched him as he began the process of restitching the wound. His gloved fingers, despite their shakiness, moved with practiced ease through the motions. The wound wouldn’t heal pretty after the abuse it had been put through, but it was just one more scar to the collection that decorated his body. 

Inej tried to count the number of scars that dotted the skin of his upper body. There were many and she knew each had its own story. She only knew the origins of a few. Like the scar cutting through his upper lip that was given to him a week after she had left the Menagerie or the scar that ran down the back of his ribs that he received in a parley gone wrong. Each scar built on the legend and the myth that was Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the deadliest boy in Ketterdam. But here in the dim candlelight, the scars exposed what he really was—a broken boy who had pieced himself together with his own two hands. 

Inej watched as Kaz slowly peeled the soiled bandages off the burns on his arm. They would leave ugly scars, a permanent reminder of what happened. A reminder that there were bigger evils in this world than a boy who was made into a monster. Inej’s eyes caught on his forearm and the way the burns sliced through his Dregs tattoo. It no longer looked like a crow and a cup, but a mess of ugly skin and damage. She looked up to his only other tattoo, the mysterious R tattoo on his bicep. It was somehow almost completely untouched. 

Inej didn’t know what that meant, but she couldn’t dismiss it as nothing. When Kaz looked up at her, she saw the same thought reflecting in his eyes. 

Kaz reached for the fresh bandages and tried to wrap them around the various wounds on his arm. Inej could feel his frustration mounting as the bandage refused to cooperate and became impossible to maneuver with his one good hand. Eventually, he stopped struggling and took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to say something, but Inej beat him to it. 

“I can help you.”

The words filled the room like an age old promise. It looked like fake silks and gold and white bathroom tile. It felt like countless nights spent on top of rooftops and countless hours defending from the shadows. It was a knife and a chance at freedom. A chance at revenge. 

Kaz met her gaze. His brown eyes were conflicted. She could see his hesitation, the terror that still clung to the edges of the room, and his determination to pretend like he was okay. He warred inside himself before he nodded, handing her the strips of fabric. “Just don’t stop talking.”

She knelt beside him on the bed and Kaz held out his arm. She began to rewrap the bandages, talking to him the whole time without question. She told him all about her last expedition and how she managed to take down The Chattel Rose. She was pretty sure he didn’t hear a word of what she said, but it seemed to help. He didn’t crumble under her proximity. 

She tied the last knot and sat back, leaning away from him. She scooted back so there was a good foot between them. No way they could accidentally touch. She looked up when she felt Kaz’s eyes on her face.

“I did that to you, didn’t I?” he said quietly, gesturing to her cheek. 

She knew she couldn’t lie, not to him. “Yes.”

His face crinkled in anger, but it wasn’t directed at her. “I’m sorry,” he said, the words surprisingly gentle. 

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have lost control,” he argued. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”

“You weren’t thinking straight,” she said. “I would have done the same thing in your position.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but then his eyes darkened. “I shouldn’t have hit you,” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“Kaz, there’s nothing to forgive. I shouldn’t have gotten as close as I did. It’s my fault.”

Kaz rubbed his gloves hands down his face and buried his fingers in his hair. She could tell by the furrow in his brow that he didn’t believe her. He took a deep breath and coughed lightly. “I thought I’d be better.”

The words came out quiet as if Kaz didn’t realize he had said them out loud. Again, the urge to ask what happened to him came back in full force. Inej’s jaw ached from keeping the question from spilling out. But his haunted expression cracked her resolve. 

“What happened to you, Kaz?” She asked, gently. 

Kaz looked up at her, his eyes open and vulnerable. She saw a storm of pain and sorrow festering in the dark brown depths. He opened his mouth to say something but he hesitated. His eyes slid from hers and she saw a flash of the terror she witnessed on the Reaper’s Barge before his eyes turned cold. His mask slipped back into place. 

Inej’s heart sank. She wouldn’t be getting any answers from him tonight. 

But then Kaz surprised her. 

“The Reaper’s Barge was the last place I saw my brother.”

Inej didn’t know what to say. It didn’t answer her question, not really. She knew there was a story, a story he couldn’t share, but his answer was more than she was expecting. It was another piece of the puzzle that was Kaz Brekker. 

Inej nodded and said nothing, hoping that he could sense that she understood. Kaz looked away from her and leaned back against the wall. Inej wondered if she should give him some more space, but when she started to move, Kaz shook his head. 

“Stay.” He didn’t look at her. “Please.”

So Inej stayed where she was and they settled into the silence of the room, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Inej didn’t know how long they sat there, close but not touching. Her mind was on hyperdrive, thinking about everything and nothing at once. But then the exhaustion she felt earlier came creeping back in. She must have fallen asleep because sometime later, she was jolted awake by a knock on the door.

“Captain.” It was Specht. “We’ve reached Lij.”

Lij.

Inej didn’t know a lot about the city of Lij, she reflected as she hopped off the bed and grabbed the bags she had hastily packed mere hours before. She only knew of its general location in southern Kerch and that it was a large settlement of farming communities that was connected to the major cities of Ketterdam and Belendt through a vast array of inland roads. It also had a harbor that was used for all sorts of transportation, but was nowhere near the grandeur of Ketterdam. Thankfully, it wasn’t small enough that a warship like The Wraith would raise suspicion.

At least, that’s what she hoped. But if everything went according to plan, no one would be awake to remember the ship or the passengers it left behind. 

Inej watched Kaz as they walked out of her quarters to the open deck of the ship. His eyes were hard and his face impassive, but years of being by his side showed her the worry that scrunched his brow. She wondered if it was worry for the things they’d left behind or lingering trauma from the night’s events. She didn’t know if there was anything they needed to worry about ahead of them and it put her on edge. 

As they drew near to land, Inej slipped around the edges of her ship, watching her crew prepare for landing. This would be the first time in two years that The Wraith would sail without her on it. It made her feel uneasy and Inej wondered if this is how Kaz felt leaving his gang behind. 

But they would be in good hands, she reasoned. Specht would be in charge in her place with orders to lay low until he received word from her. They would be out at sea, keeping their eyes and ears open for any sign of Ragnvald and the Red Rose. Inej didn’t know what Kaz had planned for Ragnvald or how The Wraith would come into play, but she knew they’d be ready for whatever came their way. 

Before she knew it, they were on land and her ship was slipping back to the sea. In front of her, the city of Lij slept happily, completely ignorant of the two broken souls that stepped onto its shores. 

“Where now?” Inej asked, turning to look at Kaz. He said nothing and began to walk. 

That’s how she found herself wandering through the streets of Lij wrapped in the silence of the night. It was a longer walk than she expected. They cut directly through the town, not stopping to admire its quaintness no matter how badly Inej wished they could. She followed Kaz, trusting him and simultaneously wondering how he knew where to go. 

They soon left the city proper and headed down a long dirt road with fields on either side. They passed a couple small homes with barns and silos. There was even a large pasture with cattle grazing sleepily. The sun wouldn’t rise for another three bells and the farms around them were dark, their residents asleep. It made her feel like they were the only two people alive. 

The dirt road  they walked on was uneven, filled with holes and ruts from carriage wheels. They moved slowly, Inej keeping pace with Kaz’s uneven gate. He had a simple walking stick in his hand and he looked odd without the familiar crow headed cane. The stone cold look on Kaz’s face was a familiar one, but his eyes didn’t look as alive as usual. It worried her. 

Eventually, they stopped at a dirt road that looked like all the others. It stretched off to their left and at the end, a small farm house sat with a matching barn. The sun had finally started to rise and soft rays of sunlight danced through the trees that stretched along the edge of the field adjacent to the house’s yard. Kaz began walking towards it.

So this was it. This was the farm that Johannus Rietveld owned, the man Colm only pretended to be. Inej still couldn’t believe it was real. Of course, she knew it was real in some sense of the word. It had to be for Kaz’s plan to have had any credibility, but it never occurred to her it was an actual place where someone lived. 

“Who lives here?” Inej asked. Kaz didn’t hesitate to respond. 

“No one.”

Something in Kaz’s voice made Inej look away from the house they were approaching. Kaz’s face was impassive, but the look in his eyes was an echo of what she had seen on the Reaper’s Barge.

He’s afraid , she realized, her heart skipping a beat. Her blade, Sankta Alina, slipped into her hand. She had no idea what this place really was, she realized. Kaz insisted that it was somewhere safe and from the outside it appeared so, but Inej knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving. 

But as she cast another glance at Kaz, she saw something in his eyes that she could only describe as sorrow. 

After everything he went through today, why would this place bring him sorrow and fear? What was this place?

Inej had assumed it was just another investment Kaz had made to benefit him in one way or another, but that look told another story. This place meant something to him. It was the same look she had seen in her own eyes the first time she returned to her old caravan in Ravka. Except for her, she was returning to a people, to a home. The building in front of them was empty and lifeless and cold. 

Kaz only hesitated on the porch for a moment before picking the lock and slipping into the house. Inej followed behind him and almost ran straight into his back. He stood there completely frozen, his eyes wide.

“Kaz?” 

He startled and looked at her, exhaustion evident in his eyes. “Let’s put our bags down,” he said. “My leg is killing me.”

Kaz stepped forward then, moving as if he knew exactly where he was going. Inej shadowed his footsteps wondering, not for the first time, if Kaz had been here before.  

Chapter Text

The house was quiet, but Inej found she couldn’t sleep. She lay on an old bed with musty sheets that felt like they hadn’t been touched in years. The room she was in was small and without any sort of personal embellishment. It was just a dusty room that seemed to belong to a child years before.

But she didn’t try to puzzle that one out right now. She was exhausted and wanted to collapse into the nothingness of sleep, but her body was on high alert. Anytime the old house shifted and creaked she was wide awake, knives in her hands. In the room next to hers, she had heard Kaz settle down on the old bed frame sometime before, but it had been silent ever since. He was luckier than her it seemed and had already fallen asleep. Soon, the room felt too suffocating and the bed felt too hard. 

That’s how she found herself perched on the angled roof looking out over the farm around them. They had secured the house the moment they set down their bags, locking the windows and sliding the deadbolts in the doors. But she hadn’t gotten a good view of the property and the unknown was putting her on edge. 

As she expected, there wasn’t too much to look at. It was weird to be able to see for miles without any buildings in the way. It reminded her of the sea or the prairies her family traveled over in their caravan. In the distance, a small mountain range loomed over the valley. They were still close enough to the sea that Inej knew she could see the shore if she was up a little higher. 

The farm's property was small, but surprisingly well taken care of. The yard was neat and tidy and the fields were full of growing plants that Inej didn’t recognize. There was a barn in the corner of the property, it’s doors locked shut. The line of trees she spotted earlier swayed in the early morning breeze. The sun was really beginning to rise now and in the soft morning light she could see another home connected to the adjacent field. It was their only neighbor for miles. 

She was too far away to see if their neighbors were awake, but she had a feeling they were. For years, Jesper got up before the sun did, a consequence of growing up on a farm. He used to tease Kaz for getting up that early as well, wondering if he found a fellow farmer, but Kaz just rolled his eyes. They all knew he was awake so early because he never seemed to sleep. 

Satisfied that there were no apparent threats around them, Inej slipped back into the house. This time, however, she came in through Kaz’s window instead of her own. The window creaked as she pulled open the frame, but Kaz didn’t stir. He was laying on his back above the covers, one leg hanging off the side as if he had simply collapsed on the bed and fallen asleep. Inej was sure he had. She knew from her own experience that panic bred exhaustion and after everything he’d been through she was surprised he was able to make it to the house.

Inej closed the window behind her and walked silently over to Kaz’s sleeping form. She lowered herself down on the floor next to the bed and leaned against the mattress, her head inches from Kaz’s gloved hand. 

She felt more at ease hearing Kaz’s steady breathing behind her and she tucked her knives back into their sheaths. As her body relaxed, her eyes began to droop and the sleep that had evaded her seemed within reach. She closed her eyes and matched her breathing with Kaz’s slow, deep breaths. Soon, she felt the arms of sleep claim her.

She couldn’t have been asleep for more than a couple minutes when a loud banging jolted her from her reverie. Her eyes flew open and she sat upright. Behind her, Kaz jerked awake, his limbs twitching. Inej honed in on the banging and realized it was coming from the front door. Someone was here.

As silent as fog rolling in from the harbor, Inej slipped out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the main level. Another round of banging sounded against the door. 

“I know you’re in there!” A voice shouted from the other side. “You’re trespassing and I’m armed! I'm not afraid to shoot!”

Inej slid over to one of the windows facing the front porch and looked through the glass. Standing in front of the door was a young woman around Inej’s age with a rifle in her hands. She held the weapon awkwardly in one hand with the other raised to pound on the door. Compared to Jesper’s casual elegance with any firearm, this girl looked like an amateur in comparison. 

Sankta Anastasia slipped out of its sheath on her thigh without a trace of a whisper. The window wouldn’t be as quiet, but Inej wasn’t named the Wraith for nothing. Just as the girl raised her fist to knock again, Inej moved to open the window. Her loud knocking drowned out the sound of the window squeaking open.  But just as her fingers curled around the window frame, a hand grabbed her wrist. 

Inej didn’t startle but instead turned to Kaz who leaned heavily on the wall beside her. He shook his head and gave her wrist a light squeeze. 

I’ll handle it. 

Kaz scowled, bracing himself before pushing off the wall. He stumbled slightly as his bad leg adjusted to the sudden weight. Inej came right behind him, her hand cupping his elbow to help support his weight. It was a testament to how bad his leg was hurting him because he didn’t glare or push her away. He’d never ask for help, she mused, but he had gotten better at accepting it. 

It only took a few steps for them to reach the door. Kaz straightened his back, putting weight on both of his legs—a signal to step aside. Inej immediately dropped her hand and did what she does best. She took a step back, melting into the shadows behind him. Her hand brushed against the stair’s railing that rested directly behind Kaz’s back and without a second thought she pulled herself up to perch atop the bannister. From her new height, she could see over Kaz with enough space between his head and the top of the door for one of her daggers to fly through if necessary. 

In front of her, Kaz took a deep breath, his gloves pulled taunt over his knuckles. He was preparing himself for something. For what, Inej did not know. What was a simple farm girl to Dirtyhands? He’d faced worse men and women in his time in the Barrel. He ran his hand through his hair and Inej saw his fingers shaking. Then with his face impassive as ever, he opened the door. 

Over Kaz’s shoulder, Inej saw the young woman raise her rifle, her eyes widening. “Who are you?” she asked in a shaky voice. “And don’t lie! Or I’ll-–I’ll shoot!”

Kaz, sounding completely bored, sighed. “You’ll be dead with a knife between your eyes before you can pull the trigger.”

The girl flinched away from Kaz, but didn’t lower her weapon. Inej held out her arm and stuck the blade in her hand in the sunlight pouring in through the door. She made her knife glint in the light, sending a bright reflection into the girl’s eyes. She spotted her immediately and paled, finally lowering the gun. 

“W-what do you want?” The girl spluttered. “You’re trespassing.”

Inej could have applauded her for her bravery. She clearly didn’t know who she was up against. Inej waited patiently to see Kaz’s next move. In their planning, Kaz had said nothing about neighbors or what to do if they encountered other people on the farm. But when hadn’t he kept his cards close to his chest?

Kaz moved, catching Inej’s attention. He tilted his head to one side, exposing the side of his neck and brushed one finger down the edge of his ear. Inej recognized it as a sign from her days in the Dregs. She isn’t a threat. 

Inej sheathed the knives in her hands and silently hopped down from the bannister, disappearing once more into the shadows of the room. She saw the girl’s eyes flicker once more to the bannister and smirked at the frightened look on her face when she saw no one there. To the girl’s credit, the fear was hidden quickly. 

“Who are you?” she asked once more.

“The owner of this farm.”

The girl scoffed. “You? That can’t be true.”

“Can’t it?” Kaz said.

“My father takes care of this farm for the owner,” the girl shot back. “He would have told me if the owner was as young as you.”

Inej raised her eyebrow and noticed how Kaz shifted imperceptibly. Something akin to recognition flickered in his dark eyes.

“My name is Johannus Rietveld, I own this farm. I have the paperwork to prove it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Rietveld, huh? Do you know Jordie and Kaz Rietveld?”

Inej stopped breathing. Kaz Rietveld? She shot Kaz a look and realized he had stopped breathing too. The young woman stared at him and Kaz stared right back. Finally, he took a breath. 

“Yes, they were cousins of mine,” he rasped. “I bought the property from your father as soon as I had the funds to purchase it. It is family land and I wanted it to stay in the family.”

“What happened to them?” the girl asked, a strange note of hope in her voice. “Jordie and Kaz, I mean.”

Kaz just shrugged, balling his shaking hands into fists. “I heard they died after a few years in Ketterdam.”

The girl’s face dropped and Inej understood what she was feeling. Inej felt like a part of her world was shattering too. 

“Oh,” the girl said softly. “Ketterdam doesn’t sound like an easy place to live, ja?”

“Hardly.”

The girl nodded and set the butt of the rifle on the porch. A range of emotions flickered across her face from caution and disbelief to pure curiosity. Eventually a hesitant acceptance won. She held her hand out to Kaz. “I’m sorry for rudely interrupting your morning. My name is Britt.”

Kaz carefully shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Britt.” 

Inej was surprised at how kind his voice sounded. She wasn’t able to see his face to tell if it was genuine or not. 

Britt nodded again and glanced toward the path leading from the house. She looked once more at Kaz and Inej could see the doubt reflecting in her eyes. It didn’t look like she completely bought Kaz’s vague story, that much was clear, but she still accepted it. Inej wished she could be that trusting. 

“I’ll be on my way,” Britt said, taking a step away from the door. “But I’ll come back later this afternoon. I know for a fact you have nothing to eat in there and Ma always said it's rude to leave anyone hungry.”

She started off down the path away from the house before Kaz could say anything. “And besides,” she called from a few paces away, “now you won’t have to make a trip into town!”

And with that she was gone, quickly walking down to the main road. She took a right and made her way to the house Inej knew was their only close neighbor. Kaz shut the door but didn’t move, opting to rest his forehead against the wood. 

Inej stood two paces behind him, wrapped in her shadows. Her mind was buzzing. Jordie and Kaz Rietveld. That’s what she had said. She’d spoken it so casually as if they were names she’d known for a long time. A name that was worn and known and real. Little did she know how the simple declaration sent Inej’s world spinning on its axis. 

Who’s Jordie?

Jordie was my brother. 

Jordie and Kaz Rietveld. 

It is family land. 

Kaz Rietveld. 

Is Kaz Brekker your real name?

Real enough. 

Suddenly pieces of a puzzle she didn’t realize were missing clicked into place. Inej looked around the house they stood in and she saw everything in a new light. She saw Kaz in a way she never had before. It was as if the curtain had been pulled exposing a part of the magician’s secret. 

“This is your home.” She didn’t say it as a question. 

Kaz’s shoulders dropped slightly before he lifted his head off the door. He didn’t turn to look at her when he answered. “Yes, it was.”

Silence fell between the pair. Kaz didn’t say anything and Inej didn’t know what to say. Kaz flexed his hands in his gloves before balling his hands into fists and limping out of the room. Inej stayed behind, standing in the shadows of the foyer trying to process the new information she learned.

She was in Kaz Brekker’s childhood home. No, it was Kaz Rietveld’s home. Brekker wasn’t his real last name. Brekker wasn’t his real last name. It was just another part of the myth, the legend, the ghost story that shaped the Bastard of the Barrel. It was the fog rolling in from the harbor that blocked out the sun or the gloves that covered soft skin beneath. It was a fake, a lie and yet, it was real. Brekker was a name that was known by many, feared by all, and whispered through the streets of Ketterdam. It had power. And Rietveld? In Ketterdam, it meant nothing. It was a forgotten name. But here in the countryside near Lij it meant something. It had the power to blow away the fog and strip back the gloves. It wasn’t forgotten. 

No one in Ketterdam knew the truth of the name, the power it held and the reality it exposed. Not a single person knew the truth, except Kaz. Kaz, who had it embedded in his skin in the shape of a black R. Kaz, who hid the truth behind layers of shirts and coats. Kaz, who revealed the truth to no one. No one except her.

Again, the question that had haunted her for years came floating to her lips. She looked around the empty room and whispered to the ghosts that seemed to linger in the corners of the room.

“What happened to you, Kaz?”

Chapter Text

Kaz wanted to crawl out of his skin. 

Everything was wrong. His bandages felt too tight, his lungs didn’t seem to work properly, and everything around him was familiar. Too familiar. 

He felt like he was walking through a dream. One of his better dreams where he was still a child and his family was still alive. Of course, those dreams always ended the same way with Kaz waking up drowning in harbor water. But now he wasn’t waking up from the dream. It was real.

And it felt wrong. 

He was divided. Half of him wanted to get out, run away, and never look back. The other half wanted to fall apart and weep. It was as if someone had ripped out his seams and he was fraying at the edges. The lines he had meticulously crafted in his reality had begun to blur and he didn’t know what was right anymore. 

As a child, he prayed that they would be able to come back home. Home was safe and familiar, so unlike the cold streets of Ketterdam. But then the plague came and Kaz Rietveld drowned in the harbor and Kaz Brekker crawled out of the canals full of vengeance and fury. He buried what was left of Rietveld so deep that no one could find him. He was no longer that gentle, naive boy. He was a monster. And home meant nothing to him anymore. 

But now he found himself standing in his old house. His old home but it didn’t feel like home anymore. Home was, oddly enough, the Slat, it was the streets of the Barrel. It was the feeling of being alive after a fight, of beating the odds, and of revenge and glory. This house he stood in was empty and lifeless. It was familiar, but foreign. And it had the strange ability to expose exactly who Kaz Brekker pretended he wasn’t. 

And Inej knew. That fact repeated in his head like a broken record. Inej knew. Inej knew. Inej knew. 

He knew this was going to happen. He had wanted it to happen. But now he felt naked and exposed. He wasn’t ready. She had connected the dots just as fast as he knew she would. She uncovered exactly who he was but just like every time he dreamt of this moment, he was drowning with harbor water in his lungs. 

His mind was still reeling from his memories of the Reaper’s Barge, both old and new. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the corpses and felt the endless waves pulling him down. The taste of the sea was still fresh on his tongue. It tasted like salt, bile, and blood. It haunted him. 

And just like always, his walls went up instead of down. It was instinctual. It was safe. It was what he had done for a decade. His armor was his second skin and his body was weak. He couldn’t let it go no matter how badly he wanted to. His whole being was geared up to fight and it wasn’t backing down. 

So instead of staying in that room and explaining to Inej what everything meant, he left. He couldn’t face her. Not when he felt like his world was falling apart. 

Suddenly, the walls felt like they were closing in on him and the musty air was making it hard to breathe. He made a beeline for the back door as if the hordes of hell were behind him. 

It almost felt like they were.

When the cool morning air hit Kaz’s skin, his body relaxed. The tension drained out of his shoulders and he could breathe easier. His lungs didn’t ache with every breath and he could almost ignore the way the burns on his arm throbbed with his heart beat. The air was cleaner out here than it was in Ketterdam, but he could still smell the sea. For some reason, he found that comforting. For a moment, things almost felt okay. Then he opened his eyes and came crashing back to reality.

He wasn’t where he was supposed to be. But he couldn’t go back. Not yet. 

His world was tilting on its axis. To Ketterdam, Kaz Brekker was dead. Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, had finally found his match. Brekker’s reign of terror was over in the eyes of the city and Kaz had never felt more lost in his life.

Ketterdam was his. The Dregs were his. He had given everything to that city and to his gang and he wasn’t finished. He couldn’t be defeated so easily. Yet here he was hiding like a coward with a sickness in his mind that was only growing worse by the minute. He was stronger than this, but the fear in his mind proved the opposite. 

He wasn’t supposed to wake up on the Reaper’s Barge. He wasn’t supposed to lose his head, hit Inej, and nearly drown in the harbor. This farm outside of Lij was supposed to be a temporary safehouse away from prying eyes. They were supposed to disappear and go unnoticed. His childhood best friend wasn’t supposed to come banging on the door mere hours after their arrival.  

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Nothing was going according to plan. He felt like he was falling, diving into a headspin that was spinning out of control. The fragments of his life were trying to click into place, but the edges didn’t line up right. The pieces didn’t quite fit. The Kaz that left this farm ten years earlier was not the same Kaz standing on it now. And yet, the Kaz of today didn’t feel like the same Kaz of only days prior. Something had changed within him once more in the waters surrounding the Reaper’s Barge but Kaz was too broken and bleeding to figure it out. 

Somehow Kaz found himself standing in front of the barn’s large double doors. He stared at the padlock that held the doors shut. He felt like it was mocking him. These doors never used to be locked in this way and now they were. It looked wrong in Kaz’s eyes and he was tired of feeling like everything was wrong. 

In seconds the padlock opened in his hands and the chain holding the doors together fell loose. He opened the doors and slipped inside the barn, pretending for a moment it was just another warehouse in Ketterdam and not a fragment of his childhood. 

The barn wasn’t empty like Kaz first thought it would be, but it was nothing like it used to be. Where animals once nestled under its roof there were old tools and unused farming equipment. Instead of fresh bales of hay in the rafters, there was dust. 

Kaz tried to look at it all impassively. The details of his childhood here were hazy at best, traumatizing at worst. The horror he experienced in Ketterdam seemed to successfully override his memory of really living here. Anything he could recall was tainted by his nightmares. He had barely looked at anything in the house, terrified of the phantoms it would stir up. His mind was already filled with canal fog and harbor water, he didn’t need anything else haunting him. 

But out here, he found himself looking a little closer. Thankfully, nothing seemed to jump out at him as particularly memorable. Vague memories of his father cleaning the tools came floating to his mind, but they only made slight ripples in the water. A rusted shovel sitting in one corner sent a wave through his mind and for a moment all Kaz could see was Jordie helping dig a ditch somewhere on the property. There was mud on his face and even in his teeth when he smiled. 

Kaz felt unsettled and contemplated leaving when his eyes landed on an old plow hidden in the back corner of the barn. It’s blade was the color of dried blood. Kaz felt the ground sway beneath him. He knew what that plow was and it unearthed a memory so poignant that it sent a tsunami tearing through his mind. 

Kaz was suddenly standing out in one of their fields. His father was at his side. It was a warm day for early spring and Kaz tried not to fidget under the sun’s rays. Even in the memory, he could still remember the anticipation in the air. That day was an important day. It was the day Kaz would learn how to man the plow. 

Kaz had listened diligently as his father explained the basics of maneuvering the plow through the soil. Kaz was still young and quite possibly a little small to be attempting such a task, but Da was desperate. Jordie was needed elsewhere on the farm today and Kaz was, despite his size, rather strong and nimble. Most importantly, he was smart, observant, and could work free of charge. In retrospect, Kaz knew how foolish that decision was, but nothing could change the past. 

Things were going smoothly until they weren’t. One moment the plow was gliding through the soil and then it wasn’t. A rock stood in the blade’s way. Kaz had stepped forward to move the rock but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“I’ll move the rock,” his father had said. “You keep things steady. This is Pieter’s horse. He’s not used to plowing quite yet. Anything could startle him.”

Kaz had nodded, wrapping his too small of hands around the plow’s handles. Then Luuk Rietveld moved the rock. It would be the last thing he would ever do. 

The second the rock moved, a snake shot out through the grass, disturbed from its slumber. It slithered across the ground startling the large horse that was six times its size. 

Kaz could still remember the sound the horse made as it sidestepped away from the reptile. It was a high and frightened whinny that sounded too human to be real, but the noise that followed was the opposite. It was far too inhuman to be real. 

In the horse’s haste to get away, it pulled the plow with it. Nothing could stop the horse once it moved. Not the rock, not Kaz’s small hands, not even Luuk Rietveld’s body. Kaz had watched completely helpless as the plow was ripped from his grasp and crushed his father’s crouching form. 

“DA!” He screamed, but it did nothing.

He was only nine years old. 

When the neighbors found him, surrounded by a trail of guts and blood, he was pale and shaking. There was blood on his shoes. 

It was an accident, they said. A tragic, freak accident. It wasn’t Kaz’s fault, it wasn’t the horse’s fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Kaz almost believed them. He wanted to believe them. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had to be blamed. So he went looking for that snake that scared the horse. Maybe, it was something to really be afraid of. But as it turned out, it was a simple rat snake, completely harmless without an ounce of venom in its body.

Kaz didn’t know why that made it seem like the snake was innocent. 

He had smashed the snake’s head anyway. He didn’t know if it was the same snake, but it didn't matter. It felt better than thinking about the hole in his chest at his father’s absence or the guilt that made his hands ache. It was better to try and convince himself it was all the snake’s fault than to think about how his hands had slipped off the plow’s handles. It was better than remembering he could have done something different to save his father’s life. 

Kaz couldn’t remember the days that followed very well. By the time they made it to Ketterdam, he was too overwhelmed with leaving the only place he had ever known to really process his father’s death. Instead of coping, he found things to distract himself from his loneliness and his grief. Little magic tricks, disappearing coins, and wind up dogs.

But then the plague hit and everything Kaz thought he knew disappeared. Any grief he had for his father vanished under the weight of corpses and harbor water. Any guilt he felt evaporated under the intensity of his burn for revenge. As he swam through the harbor, every shred of childlike innocence was ripped from his body. Any happy memory of his father or hazy memory of his mother was washed out by the feel of bloated skin beneath his hands. Everything good about him sank to the bottom of the True Sea and were no longer a part of the monster he became.

But as he stood there, staring at the plow that killed his father, he realized that all that pain and grief and guilt was still there. He had only forced himself to forget it, to shove it away, but it hadn’t disappeared. Just like Jordie. But he had been able to avenge Jordie’s death. There was someone to blame. But for Da? It had been an accident. No one else had been there except him. 

Kaz was so engulfed in his grief and panic that he didn’t see Inej until she spoke.

“Are you alright?”

Kaz jumped, his body twitchy and shaky. He couldn’t seem to breathe right and his head was pounding. Inej spoke again, but this time he couldn’t make out her words. Any ounce of control he thought he had was slipping through his fingers. 

“Kaz, look at me.”

She had said the same thing yesterday, Kaz realized. The water had been deathly cold but her voice had sent a wave of warmth to his finger tips. Once more, the soft tones of her voice soothed his torn soul and he found himself in the eye of the storm in his mind. Everything stood still around them as he looked her in the eye. 

She was tired, that much he could tell. Dark shadows cling under her eyes and he knew he looked no better. But his eyes caught on the dark bruise forming on her cheek and his gut clenched in guilt. 

I did that to her. 

Anger curdled in his stomach, making his chest burn and his vision blur. Why couldn’t he conquer this stupid weakness? This disease? For the last two years he had tried to be better for Inej. For himself. But now it felt like he took two steps back. He’d lost control and it didn’t matter if Inej forgave him, he didn’t know if he could forgive himself. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. 

Inej’s voice was a spring breeze through the trees. “For what?”

“For being weak.” 

For being haunted. For being a monster. For being everything she didn’t need. 

“Kaz.” Inej moved so she was standing directly in front of him. “You are not weak.

Yes, I am. He wasn’t as strong as she was. He couldn’t stop the horse or change the direction of the plow. He couldn’t stop the plague from spreading or save his brother from the Reaper’s Barge. He had been helpless and for the last decade he worked to convince the world that he didn’t need help and that he had no weakness. 

But it was all a lie. The burns in his arms were proof enough. Kaz Rietveld was dead, drowned in the unforgiving sea. Kaz Brekker was dead, burned in the flames that threatened to destroy his gang. And what was left? A man who was falling apart from the inside. A man without seams. A man without reason. 

Inej took another step closer to him and slowly raised her hand, telling him exactly what she was about to do. As her hand approached his face, panic flashed through his body. Corpses and bloody fields filed the edges of his vision. 

No. He didn’t want her touch to be tainted by this.

He took a step back. 

Inej slowly lowered her hand, but he didn’t see disappointment in her eyes. Instead, there was an emotion he couldn’t describe. 

“Britt is coming back,” Inej said, watching him carefully. “Another woman is with her. It looks like they are bringing food.”

Kaz took a deep breath, trying to gather the scattered pieces of his mind. He was suddenly grateful for the change of topic, for the distraction. “Let’s go see what they want.”

He turned away from the barn, the plow, and everything that came with it. As he walked out into the fresh air, Inej followed. Her silent presence was solid behind him, rooting him to the earth. Just like her voice, it was like a balm to his broken, twisted heart. 

Inej had seen him at his worst. She was the only person he trusted enough to see it. She was the only one who had truly seen glimpses of what was left of Kaz Rietveld. She knew what this place really was, even if she didn’t understand the horror that came with it. But he knew she’d never give away his secrets or his tells. She had every reason to leave and never come back. She wasn’t afraid to leave, in fact she did it often, but she came back. He could always rely on her presence and he found himself wishing he could rely on it more often. 

He was a mess, that much was certain. He was shattered and put back together wrong. He was ugly and evil and dark. He’d died too many times and no longer knew exactly who he was. Everything was wrong and he wanted to crawl out of his skin. 

But with Inej by his side, something stirred in his chest. Something bright and light that felt a little too close to hope. 

But if hope was what he needed to survive this storm, he’d grasp onto it with both hands and never let go. 

Chapter Text

Britt Visser did not consider herself a talented woman. She couldn’t cook very well, she couldn’t dance to save her life, and she couldn’t sing a note in tune. But Britt could say without a doubt that she was an expert in two things: remembering faces of those she had met and knowing when someone was lying. 

Her mother called it her special hunch. No one had been able to keep a secret from her in years. She had yet to meet someone she couldn’t figure out. That being said, she was from a small town and hadn’t really met a ton of new people, but she liked her chances. 

That was until she met the mysterious Johannus Rietveld. 

When she woke up that morning and saw someone perched on the neighbor’s roof, she was certain it was one of the Meijer boys stirring up trouble. She had stomped over to the house with the intent to scare them off and hopefully teach them a lesson. But she got so much more than she was expecting. 

Instead of a lanky teenager answering the door, she was faced with a man with the deadliest glare she had ever seen. To say she was terrified would be an understatement. Even though she was the one with a weapon in her hands, it felt like all the power was in his.

“Who are you? And don’t lie! Or I’ll-–I’ll shoot!”

“You’ll be dead with a knife between your eyes before you can pull the trigger.”

He had said it so easily and calmly it was as if they were discussing the weather and not threatening to kill one another. His stance was casual, businesslike, but Britt knew his eyes would tell the true story. In her experience, it was always their eyes that told the truth. However, when Britt looked into the stranger’s dark eyes, she saw nothing. No lies, no truth, no story. For the first time in her life, she had met someone completely unreadable. 

Who was this man?

A glint of light behind his head further added to the mystery. The light had come from a wickedly sharp knife that appeared to float above the man’s head. She could only see a hand holding the handle. The rest of their body, if there even was one, was wrapped in shadow. Maybe her fear was messing with her head because when she looked again, the shadowed figure and the knife were gone. 

As it turned out, the mysterious man’s name was Johannus Rietveld, the cousin of Jordie and Kaz Rietveld and the man whom her father worked for. She had heard her father talk about him a lot, but had never gotten any details about who he actually was. When asked, her father couldn’t give her any. All he knew was that Johannus was a Rietveld relative of some kind who had paid a hefty sum for the farm that Jordan Rietveld had sold to him years earlier. The money had saved her family from bankruptcy and the threat of losing both farms. They had spoken very highly of the mysterious Johannus Rietveld ever since. 

But this man? He didn’t seem like the giving type and he was young, far younger than any of them expected. He couldn’t have been older than twenty, even if the dark circles under his eyes and the dark glare marring his brow made him appear years older. The farm had been purchased five years ago, but that would mean Johannus would have been barely a teenager when he had the funds to purchase the farm. Funds her family only dreamed of having. 

So where did he get that money? Was it family money? The Rietveld’s she knew only had the money they had earned from their labor. They didn’t appear to come from wealth. Maybe it was different for this cousin, but Britt had a feeling that wasn’t the case. She just couldn’t figure out what it could be. It was driving her insane. Was he even Johannus?

But all of that was eclipsed by the revelation Johannus so casually threw down at her feet.

“What happened to them? Jordie and Kaz, I mean.”

“I heard they died after a few years in Ketterdam.”

Jordie and Kaz were dead? She had tried to search for any sign of a lie, for a quiver in his voice, a twitch in his eye, a shift in his stance, but she saw nothing. He stood there, unmoving like a rock in a stream. An incredibly aloof rock, but a rock nonetheless. She would have thought they meant nothing to him if she hadn’t seen the flash of sorrow in his eyes. It was there for only a second, but she couldn’t dismiss it as nothing. 

Kaz had been Britt’s best friend as a child. They had done everything together. The land between the corners of their fathers’ properties was their entire world. Nothing could separate them, until one day something could. She had only been seven years old when Kaz left Lij after his father’s death. Her memories of him were few and she only had a hazy memory of what he even looked like, but she could still remember the look on his face as Jordie took his hand and pulled him away from their home. No child should look that broken. 

She remembered crying for days after he left, but eventually the pain faded and Britt moved on. But she never was able to let go. No one would hear anything from the Rietveld brothers for weeks and it had worried her. Kaz had promised her that he would write to her and the Kaz she knew never broke a promise. Then they heard the news of the firepox ripping through the streets of Ketterdam. That must have been what was slowing the post, she reasoned. She’d get a letter once it passed. But then time came and went and they still heard nothing. One by one, her family began to believe that they were either dead or had forgotten all about their neighbors in the countryside. But Britt didn’t believe that. She couldn’t. 

But without any evidence, it was a mystery she couldn’t figure out. 

And now, Jordie and Kaz’s long lost cousin had moved into their old home and was claiming they had died years earlier. Evidence pointed one way, but Britt’s heart pointed the other. She felt like there was something missing. A piece of the puzzle she could not yet see. But she was determined to figure it out. So maybe that’s why she decided to completely ignore the way Johannus had threatened her life with zero remorse and offered to bring over some food. If she could get a little closer, maybe she could discover that missing piece. 

Or maybe she was just an idiot. 

“What is he like?” Britt’s mother, Maryse, asked from beside her, carrying a large basket in her hands. 

I’m an utter idiot. A podge. Why am I bringing my mother into this?  Britt thought bitterly. They could be walking to their deaths for all she knew. But she didn’t tell her mother her thoughts. 

“It’s like he’s made of stone,” Britt replied. Maryse raised an eyebrow at her. “I couldn’t figure him out.”

“Really?” Her mom chuckled. “I need to meet this man.”

Britt swallowed the unease that built in her throat. She changed the subject slightly. “He knew Kaz. They were cousins.”

“I figured as much.” 

“What does that mean?”

Maryse adjusted the basket at her hip. “Johannus is a family name. Their grandfather was named Johannus and Luuk, Kaz’s father, had a brother named Johannus. He died around the time of Jordan’s birth so Luuk named his son after him. I bet this Johannus is named in a similar way.”

For some reason, Britt had never considered that. It wasn’t because it never came to mind, but because she hadn’t known Jordie’s middle name. It shouldn’t have bothered her but it made her uneasy. What else had she forgotten about the pair of brothers? Was her memory even accurate anymore? 

She tried to brush it off as they neared the house. Unconsciously, she began to lag behind her mother’s confident steps. Her previous unease came back with a sharp chord of fear. 

What was she doing?

“Ghezen, help me,” Britt whispered as they stepped onto the porch. “Please let him be normal and not a murderer.”

With a shaking hand, Britt knocked on the door. She strained to hear footsteps creaking on the old wooden floor boards, but she heard nothing. It sounded like no one was in the house. Hesitantly, she raised her arm to knock again when the door opened without warning. 

Once more, Britt didn’t see who she was expecting. 

Instead of the tall, pale figure of Johannus towering over them, a small bronze skinned girl stood in front of them with a soft smile on her face.  “Goed morgen .” 

If Britt thought this whole thing was a mystery before, it definitely was one now. First, Johannus randomly appearing and then that scary shadowy figure with the knife and now this young woman? Who was she? 

“Goed morgen! ” Maryse replied cheerfully, oblivious to Britt’s confusion. “I’m Maryse Visser, your neighbor!” She lifted the basket in her hands. “We’ve brought you some food!”

The girl smiled again. “Oh thank you. You didn’t have to—”

“Nonsense!” Maryse said, in her motherly tone. “It’s the least we could do.”

The girl looked as if she was going to say something in return, but she never got a chance to say it. To Britt’s mortification, Maryse plowed forward into the home, pushing past the poor girl. The basket in Britt’s hands felt slick with sweat as she walked through the door behind her mother. 

“I am so sorry,” Britt said to the girl, her cheeks burning. “My mother has no shame or sense of personal space. She means no harm.”

“It’s alright.”

“Oh, by the way, I’m Britt.”

The girl laughed lightly. “My name is Inej.”

“Inej.” The name sounded foreign on her tongue. The syllables weren’t something she was used to. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Inej smiled and Britt awkwardly shuffled past her in the direction of the kitchen.

What has her life come to?

Still feeling a little awkward, Britt couldn’t help but examine the house around her as she passed through it. It had been a couple of months since she had come in here. Her family used this house for extra rooms on the rare occasion cousins came to visit and had even used a few of the back rooms for storage. Other than that, the house sat and collected dust. 

The rooms look completely untouched, dust and all. It looked like they were the first people to enter the kitchen since they had last left it. It made sense, Britt realized. Johannus and Inej must have only gotten here last night. 

But wait. Who did she see on the roof this morning?

“Britt, put your basket on the counter and help me unload mine,” Maryse said, interrupting her thoughts. Britt’s questions would have to wait. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” 

Britt almost jumped out of her skin. Inej was standing just behind her right shoulder, but Britt didn’t even hear her move away from the front door. Her brown eyes roamed over the contents of the baskets. 

“Thank you,” Maryse replied. “Help would be wonderful.”

Inej nodded and stepped forward, opening the basket Britt had set down. Silence fell between the trio and Britt couldn’t help but sneak glances at the mysterious girl. She had to be around Britt’s age, but just like Johannus there seemed to be something about her that made her feel older. Britt didn’t know what it was, but it made Inej’s gaze piercing in its intensity. Then again, maybe it was because the more she looked, the more Britt realized how intimidating Inej was. The girl moved like she was underwater. Never before had Britt met anyone as graceful as her and Britt had only seen her walk. Who knew what she could really do? 

Britt looked away from Inej and refocused on her task of unloading the basket. 

“So, you are Inej, ja?” Maryse asked, looking at Inej over her shoulder. 

“Yes, Inej Ghafa.”

“Tell me, Inej. Where are you from?”

Britt tried to hide her curiosity as she set a loaf of bread on the counter. She had been wondering the same question since she first laid eyes on Inej. 

“Ravka, actually.” Inej grabbed a couple of jars in her arms and set them in an empty cupboard. “Though I haven’t lived there in a while.”

“Ah, a beautiful country,” Maryse said with a small sigh. “I’ve never been, but I’ve seen the most beautiful paintings.”

Inej laughed softly. “I agree with you. My family lived in a caravan that traveled across the country west of the Fold before it was destroyed. I’ve never seen beauty quite like it.”

“What brought you to Kerch?”

“My family are performers,” Inej said fondly. “We travelled across Ravka performing with our caravan, but…” She hesitated, fully catching Britt’s attention. “When I was fourteen I left the caravan and came to Ketterdam.”

“Why did you leave?”

Ma and all her questions, Britt thought to herself. Couldn’t she see Inej’s sudden hesitancy? Britt knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of her mother’s questions and in her experience, it was never a comfortable place to be. But she couldn’t deny that she had wanted to know the answer too. 

“It wasn’t my choice to leave,” Inej said without looking at them. “But life has a way of getting you to where you need to be. Apparently, the Saints needed me in Ketterdam.”

Something about Inej’s voice made Britt pause. She didn’t answer the question, but instead skirted around it and gave them something else to think about. It was a distraction. She was hiding something. But the note of hesitancy that filled Inej’s voice and the skillful dodge of the question led Britt to believe that it was something Inej didn’t want to reveal. Not because she was trying to be secretive, but because it was a painful memory. Britt decided she didn’t need to know. Some questions were best left unanswered. 

One look at Maryse told Britt that she hadn’t reached the same conclusion as her. She spoke before her mother could ask the question building on her tongue. 

“Is that where you met Johannus?”

Inej looked at her, relief dotting her brow. “Yes, I’ve known him since I was fifteen. We bumped into each other in Ketterdam and started working together soon after.”

Britt could see no lie in her story. “What kind of work do you do?”

“Different kinds of trade and business,” Inej answered, with a slight smile. “I am the captain of a ship and Johannus helps me with my trade.”

A sea captain? Now that Britt had that idea in her head, it was all she could see. Inej’s skin was already darker than hers would ever be, but Britt could tell that Inej spent a lot of time in the sun. Her clothing even looked like something a captain would wear. Clothing that was very rumpled, she realized now that she really looked at her clothes. Her shirt was wrinkled and her pants were covered in dust. Britt briefly wondered if she had even changed since arriving at the house. 

“What brings you here to Lij?” Maryse asked from her corner of the kitchen. 

Inej took a bag of peaches out of the now empty basket. “We wanted to escape the city for a little while.”

“Hopefully you haven’t gotten mixed up with those horrid gangs.” Maryse said, putting the lids back onto their baskets. “I’ve heard they’ve been advising citizens to avoid certain parts of the city.”

“That’s the nature of Ketterdam.”

Inej was the only one who didn’t jump at the sudden raspy voice coming from the doorway. Britt turned to see Johannus leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen. Seeing him again made Britt realize how little she noticed the first time she met him. Everything about him felt harsh from the stark contrast of his dark hair and pale skin to the hard look in his eyes. But that was what she had picked up on earlier. This time she noticed the scars that cut through his eyebrow and his lip. She didn’t know how someone got scars like that, but if the rumors about Ketterdam were true, she wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the city looked like him.  

But there was something about him, beyond the scars and the dark looks, that screamed at Britt with a strong cord of familiarity. She didn’t know what Jordie or Kaz would look like as young adults, but she bet they would look something like him. Maybe not as sharp or as cold. The Rietveld boys didn't look like they were made of knives and shattered bones. But then again, memories tended to be a little blurry around the edges and all of her memories of their faces were obscured.

“Oh! You must be Johannus!” Maryse said, stepping towards Johannus.  “I’m Maryse!”

Johannus nodded in greeting, but said nothing. Britt looked at her mother and saw a carefully crafted smile on her face. 

“When Britt told me we had new neighbors I had to come meet you myself,” Maryse continued. “We’ve brought over enough food to last you a few days so you don’t have to go back into town for a little while.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Visser.”

Maryse paused then, her smile faltering into a more thoughtful look. She opened her mouth to say something but appeared to think better of it. Instead, she turned back to Britt. “Britt, would you mind taking these baskets out to the front porch?”

Confused, Britt nodded and picked up the basket. She didn’t see why she needed to, but the look her mother sent her left no room for argument. 

“I can help too,” Inej offered, picking up the other basket. Johannus and Inej appeared to share a look, but it happened so quickly Britt wasn’t sure what she saw. Wordlessly, Inej followed Britt out of the kitchen.

“Nice to see you again, Johannus,” Britt said as they walked past him. Johannus once more said nothing. Britt looked behind her as she walked down the hallway and saw that Johannus was staring her mother down. Britt suddenly remembered the encounter at the door this morning with sudden clarity.

“Is she going to be okay in there?” Britt asked the quiet girl beside her.

Inej smiled slightly without looking back. “He won’t hurt her, if that’s what you are wondering.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve known Johannus for years. He won’t do anything to her. Though, I’m more worried about your mother doing something to him.”

Inej’s tone was light, but there was an undercurrent that Britt didn’t quite understand. It was as if there was something lurking under the surface that Inej was purposefully keeping out of Britt’s sight. Did she know something about Johannus? Did she know what really happened to the Rietveld brothers? Or maybe that was a little too narrow minded of her. Maybe there was a different piece that she was missing entirely. 

The train of Britt’s thoughts derailed quite suddenly, however, when Inej tucked her dark hair behind her ear, revealing a large ugly bruise on her cheek. Britt couldn’t stop the gasp echoed in the silence between them. 

“What happened to your face?” Britt spluttered, stopping in her tracks. Her stomach clenched as she saw Inej’s face pale.  “Did someone hurt you?”

Inej turned to face her and for the first time Britt noticed her lip had been split. It still looked swollen when she spoke. “It's nothing. Britt—“

“Nothing, my foot.” Britt interrupted Inej. “Who did this to you? Was it Johannus?”

“Britt.”

“Is he hurting you? Is that why you left the room so quickly?”

“Britt!” This time a clear note of anger in Inej’s voice made Britt pause. She almost didn’t recognize the smaller girl in front of her. Her eyes glinted like the edge of a knife and her posture was straight and demanding. Britt could do nothing but listen. “Johannus is many things, but he’s not abusive.” Inej’s voice didn’t even shake as she spoke. “Trust me. It was just an accident from the voyage here. I was standing at the wrong place at the wrong time and got hit when aboard the ship.”

Britt almost believed her. “Hit by what? A sledgehammer?”

“Britt, look at me.” Britt looked and couldn’t deny the honest look in Inej’s eye. “I’m okay. I’m not in trouble. Trust me. You don’t know the whole picture.”

Britt took a deep breath and felt her anger dissipate. Inej was right. Britt didn’t know what was going on here. She didn’t know who these people were and Britt had a sneaking suspicion that Inej wouldn’t let anyone touch her in a way she didn’t want them to. And here Britt was making assumptions about people she didn’t know. 

“I’m sorry,” Britt said, her cheeks flaming. “I didn’t mean to assume anything.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Inej said. “You were just trying to make sure I was okay. Lives are saved with that kind of concern.”

There it was again—that look that made Inej look years older than she really was. A look full of wisdom and experience. 

It was then that Britt’s mother exited the house alone, a smug smile on her face. Britt breathed a sigh of relief as the tense, almost awkward, tension snapped. Her cheery demeanor was drastically different from the somber mood surrounding Britt and Inej. Inej stepped back from Britt, her body relaxing and a carefully neutral expression fell across her face. 

“Come on, Britt!” Maryse said, skipping down the stairs. “The house work is calling our names.”

Britt tried to stop her snort of disbelief. “Why are you so excited over chores?”

Maryse grabbed the basket from Inej’s hands and sent her a grateful smile before looking back at Britt. “I’m excited because we are having guests over for dinner tonight!”

“We are?” This was the first Britt had heard of it. “Who?”

“Why our lovely new neighbors, of course!”

Britt and Inej shared a confused look.

“Oh, I don’t know—“ Inej started, but Maryse cut her off. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve already spoken to Johannus about it.” Maryse said matter-of-factly. “You’re coming over.”

Maryse looped her arm through Britt’s, turning her back to their house. “Dinner is at six bells! No need to bring anything.” She turned back to Inej. “Oh, and Inej, tell Johannus that when all your friends make it to Lij that we will have to have them over for dinner as well!”

And with that Maryse dragged Britt back towards their home leaving a terribly confused Inej behind them. 

“Ma, wait! Ma!” Britt called out, her mother’s quick pace making her stumble. “What’s going on? Their friends? What are you talking about?”

“That’s between Johannus and me, I’m afraid,” Maryse said with an annoyingly knowing smile. 

Britt huffed in frustration and stopped walking, her mother stopped as well. “You know something about Johannus, don’t you? What is it?”

“Nothing more than you do, dochter. I’m just happy to know who our neighbors are.”

Maryse let go off Britt’s arm and started walking, leaving her standing in the dust. Britt just blinked, her mouth opening and closing but no sound came out. For a moment she stood there, alone between the houses. Then with slower steps, Britt made her way back home, her gaze snapping between her mother’s back and the house behind her. 

Years of living in the same house had taught Britt to recognize when her parents were lying and for the first time in a long time, her mother had lied. And she had lied about what she knew about Johannus. 

Britt picked up her pace, a new determination in her step. 

She was going to figure out who this man was if it was the last thing she did.

Chapter Text

Inej waited until she could no longer see the two women before she turned back to the house. Her mind was spinning in circles and her body moved as if it was trudging through mud. The events of the last two days were finally catching up to her and Inej could feel her limbs slowly refusing to cooperate. But she had questions that needed answers before she could rest. So she trudged on. 

She needed to find Kaz. What did Maryse mean about their friends? What had he told her? And why hadn’t he let Inej know? She didn’t know why she felt so surprised. This was Kaz, the expert at keeping everything to himself. When had he ever shared the whole plan? But this time it was different. This wasn’t just Kaz’s plan. Inej was the one who came up with it. She was the one who convinced Kaz to leave Ketterdam in the first place. He needed to keep her in the loop if this plan was going to work. 

But far more importantly, Inej just needed to know if he was okay. He hadn’t been the same since she pulled him out of the harbor, but she had a feeling that question was going to be a lot harder to answer. 

When Inej silently padded into the kitchen, Kaz was nowhere to be seen. For a moment, she stood there in the middle of the room listening to the silence. It was a heavy silence, the kind that trailed after a spilled secret or filled up a room where too much of you had been exposed. But it wasn’t her silence. It was Kaz’s silence. She didn’t know the secrets of his past, but she had a feeling this place—his childhood home — had the ability to rip them out from beneath his armor without his permission. She knew what it was like to have things ripped from you unwillingly. She was going to have to approach this carefully.

Eventually the creak of a floorboard shattered the silence, telling Inej where Kaz was hiding. He was upstairs, by the sounds of it. Inej left the silence of the kitchen and moved towards the stairs. The house was small, it wouldn’t take her long to find him.

As it turned out, he was in one of the bedrooms. The one Inej had originally tried to sleep in. From the marks in the dust on the floor, he had been pacing around the room, but now he sat on the small, uncomfortable bed with his bad leg stretched out in front of him and his injured arm tucked protectively against his chest. His head leaned against the wall and his eyes were dangerously close to closing. Inej took a step back, intending to leave him to rest, but Kaz’s voice stopped her. 

“I know you have questions, Wraith. Ask them.”

Inej sighed and walked over to the bed, perching beside him on the covers. His head tilted towards her, his coffee colored eyes seeking hers. His words were businesslike. They were cold like the streets of Ketterdam. They were something she was used to, even if she wished he was a little warmer. But his eyes were different. She expected them to be closed off but they weren’t. They weren’t cold or calculating. They weren’t irritated or angry. They weren’t open, but they were full of pain. 

She couldn’t pester him with questions, she realized. He didn’t need an interrogator right now. He needed rest and so did she. She could see her exhaustion reflected in his eyes. 

“I only have two questions,” Inej said. She held up one finger. “Did you tell Maryse about our friends?”

Kaz took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Yes and no.” His brow furrowed with irritation or confusion, Inej couldn’t tell. “Maryse is clever. I have a hunch that she knows exactly who I am.”

“Kaz Rietveld,” Inej said before she could stop herself. Kaz’s face twitched but he said nothing about it. Instead, he opened his eyes and continued to answer her question as if she had said nothing at all. 

“Maryse began asking me too many questions trying to get me to be honest.” Kaz rolled his eyes as if he was talking about another annoying pigeon and not someone Inej could only assume had ties to his hidden past. “The only lie she didn’t buy was my name. She was a little suspicious about the two of us staying here alone, however. I assured her that we had friends coming in the next couple days. I didn’t give her any more information than that.”

So they still didn’t know the truth, Inej thought. Good. It was safer for both of them that way. She turned back to Kaz. “ And then she offered to have us over for dinner and you said yes?”

“Is that your second question?”

“No. Just a continuum of the first.”

Kaz chuckled softly. It was a tired and weak sound, but it was genuine. “One doesn’t say no to Maryse Visser when she offers you food.”

“It sounds like you knew her pretty well.”

Any trace of amusement from before vanished like smoke and he looked away from her, his eyes emotionless. “Something like that.”

She wanted to know what happened to him. She wanted to know why this place had failed to be a home to him. She wanted to know so much. But she couldn’t ask him. Not right now. “Are you okay?”

Kaz shifted, clutching his arm closer to his chest. “I’m fine. My arm’s in pain, that’s all.”

Inej knew that much had to be true. His pain had to be worse than he would ever say. She also knew that there was more to the pain in his eyes. It wasn’t all physical. But if he wasn’t going to tell her, she wasn’t going to ask again. 

Inej turned and went to stand up, but the quiet rasp of Kaz’s voice stopped her. 

“Stay.”

The word fell out of Kaz’s mouth so quietly Inej almost missed it. Her body stopped moving entirely, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m haunted, Inej,” he said, his voice an unsteady rasp. “Everywhere I turn another ghost is there staring at me.”

Haunted. The word echoed around the room and for a moment, it felt like a pair of unseen eyes were staring back at them. But Inej knew it wasn’t because this house was haunted. No, the ghosts were Kaz’s and Kaz’s alone. Everything he had lost in his life, it all had started here. Any good memories of innocence and childhood bliss were contained within these walls. Inej didn’t know the full story, but she knew what the outcome was and she could only guess that the moment he left this house, he found very little happiness and comfort waiting for him.

She knew what that was like. She knew what it was like to lose everything in a moment. To have your innocence forced from you. Haunted wasn’t even an adequate word for the feeling left behind. 

“Everywhere I turn, there they are,” Kaz said, a hot venom entering his voice. His good hand flexed into a fist in his lap. 

“Who?” Inej had an idea of who it might be. 

Kaz let out a rattling breath. His dark eyes met hers momentarily before they slipped away from her face into a place only he could see. “Jordie.” Then in a quieter voice. “My parents.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Don’t leave. Don’t become a ghost to me too.”

Inej didn’t know what to say. She knew loss, she knew what it meant to be lost, but her experience was different than his. She once believed she’d never see her parents again, but then in a string of miracles, she was reunited with them. She was able to go home. And it was all because of Kaz. He found them because they were alive, they were there, and they wanted to find her. But with Kaz, all that was left of those he loved was an empty house with ghosts in the walls. No matter how hard she tried or what she did, she would never be able to bring them back. 

So instead of saying anything, she shifted on the bed until her back rested against the wall next to Kaz. She rested her hand palm up on the bed between their thighs and waited. 

I’m here for you. No matter how broken you are, I’m here for you. 

Slowly, Kaz uncurled his gloved fingers and gently took her hand in his. His grip was unsure as if he didn’t know how he would react to her touch. She heard his breath grow shallow and his fingers began to shake, but he didn’t let go. Inej just waited. As the seconds ticked by, his breathing slowed and his hand melted into her touch. In that moment, Inej realized how much she had missed the feeling of his hand in hers, gloves and all. 

She had been out at sea for months before she came across the Chattel Rose. It almost didn’t feel real that she was back here again with Kaz by her side. The circumstances were less than ideal, but when had they ever been ideal? Life was full of landmines and hurricanes. It strengthened you and made you rough in the wrong places. It made you prepare for the unexpected and embrace the beauty you found along the way even when the sun wasn’t even shining. 

She had almost lost hope once. It was in a small bedroom in the Menagerie. She was alone for once and she felt small and broken. She felt as if the wings she had always wished to see had been ripped from her back again and again until there was nothing left but blood and darkness. But then she saw a boy who had somehow made darkness his cloak and his sword. He was all rough lines and cold glances, but there was something about him that just screamed survivor. It was then that she realized that there was a way out. So Inej did what she had deemed impossible: she hoped. 

I can help you. 

She didn’t remember the exact moment, but months ago she had decided to bring a little bit of hope into Kaz’s life, just like he had done for her years ago. She wanted to show him life wasn’t all about revenge and death and that there were other things worth living for. She felt like she had been making progress up until a few days ago. Now, she just prayed to her Saints that the ghosts wouldn’t take that light away. 

Inej looked over at Kaz. He had rested his head against the wall behind him and his eyes were closed. The permanent wrinkle between his brows was less pronounced than usual and the tense lines of his mouth and jaw had softened. But he wasn’t asleep. Not yet anyway.

“We better get some rest before dinner,” Inej said. One of Kaz’s eyebrows quirked. He was listening. “I’ll let you rest.”

Inej went to move her hand from his so she could slip off the bed, but his hand tightened around hers.

“Please, stay.”

Inej hesitated for only a moment before making up her mind. She’d stay. She didn’t want to be alone anyway.

Chapter Text

Inej was warm. How long had it been since she woke up feeling this warm? Even in the middle of the summer, mornings were always chilly out at sea. This was a feeling she hadn’t felt since the last time she stayed at Jesper and Wylan’s home. It made her feel oddly peaceful. Safe, even. It made her not want to wake up completely.

But her day was far from over.

Mournfully, Inej opened her eyes. She was laying on her side on top of the small, lumpy bed. The sun was setting outside the window, casting warm light into the room. It’s soft touch danced across her skin but it only added to the warmth she felt. It wasn’t the source, she realized. Confused, Inej turned her head to look around her and froze. She’d found the source of her warmth. 

Kaz. 

He lay behind her with his back pressed against the wall. She could feel the length of his body next to hers, close but not quite touching. They had fallen asleep facing each other. Inej’s back had faced the open room. But she had never been comfortable with her back exposed, so she must have moved to face her back towards something safer. Inej’s face grew warm as she registered the feeling of Kaz’s breath against her neck. He was so close to her, closer than he had been in a long time. 

And not for the first time, his close presence didn’t send ice water through her veins. His proximity was welcoming, not threatening. No one else was able to get this close to her, not even her parents. She wondered if he understood how monumental that was. Had she ever told him? Two years ago she wouldn't have been able to do this, but a lot had changed since then. 

Inej turned back towards the window. Kaz was still asleep. His breathing was too slow and deep for him to be awake. For a moment, she contemplated going back to sleep herself, but one glance out the window told her they’d been asleep for long enough. Dinner time was fast approaching. 

Inej sat up but stopped when her hair tugged beneath her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Kaz’s gloved fingers entwined with the end of her long braid. His hands must have found it in his sleep, she realized. The thought made her smile. Even when they were unconscious, they still gravitated towards each other. Gently, she slipped the braid from his grasp and glanced up at his face. At her movement, his breathing changed and slowly, his eyes cracked open. He blinked twice, his eyebrows scrunching together. Her smile widened as he looked up at her in confusion.

“What time is it?” He rasped. 

Inej looked out the window. She laughed softly. “Late.”

Kaz squinted at her before looking out the window himself. He propped himself up on his good elbow, his shoulder brushing her back. The afternoon sun lit up his tea colored eyes and cast an orange glow on his pale skin. 

Her proximity didn’t bother him, she realized with relief. Everything might change in the next moment, but for now, he seemed to be doing better. His face had regained some of its color and he no longer looked like the dead brought back to life. He still looked exhausted, she noted, but he was better.

“It’s almost dinner time,” Kaz mumbled, glancing at Inej out of the corner of his eye. 

“Then we better get ready.”

Fifteen minutes later, Inej stood in the tiny bathroom across the hall. Through the foggy mirror, she could see Kaz sitting on the bed putting on an old pair of boots he found in another room. It was odd to see him dressed the way he was. The thin, long sleeved sweater he wore looked so different from his normal black coats and high collars. The neckline was lower than his collared shirts; it exposed more of his throat than he was probably comfortable with, but it was all they had. Paired with roughspun trousers, his outfit made him look softer, more innocent, more his age. Nothing like the Dirtyhands Ketterdam knew. 

That is, if you ignored the scars and the deadly glint in his eye.

Inej looked away from Kaz and toward her own reflection. She had a new scar along her cheekbone from a slaver’s blade. It had needed stitches and Inej hadn’t been able to smile right for weeks afterwards as it healed. She still remembered the look on Kaz’s face when he saw the newly healed scar the next time she came to Ketterdam. He looked deadly, but he hadn’t said anything. He knew she had taken care of the offender. Now, she gently ran her finger along the scar’s uneven surface. She couldn’t hide it, just like she couldn’t hide the bruise on her cheek. They weren’t something you normally saw on a lady. But neither were the other scars she had hidden under her long sleeves and leather pants. 

Then again, no innocent lady from the city carried knives like they were saints and lived in shadows like a wraith.

A figure filled the doorframe behind her, breaking Inej out of her thoughts. “Are you ready?”

Inej turned around. “Yes, I think so.”

Kaz’s dark eyes took in her appearance. For once, she didn’t have her hair in a tight coil. Instead, she only braided half of it away from her face, the rest was loose down her back. It was impractical in a fight, but tonight they’d be fighting a different battle. Tonight their job was to blend in and look like the normal, innocent residents of Ketterdam they wanted everyone to believe they were. 

Inej bet they’d be faced with varying degrees of success.

Kaz nodded at her and Inej caught sight of the small scar that ran across his neck below his jaw. It was a scar she only saw on rare occasions. His collared shirts usually hide that scar to a degree, but now there was nothing there to distract from it. Just like the black gloves on his hands did nothing to hide the bandages around his wrist that neither his sweater nor his gloves could quite cover. It was an unusual look for the average Ketterdam businessman.

Inej chuckled softly, drawing Kaz’s attention. “We sure make a good pair.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Bruises, bandages, scars.” She gestures towards her face and his arm. “For innocent, harmless, Ketterdam locals we sure have a lot of battle wounds.” 

“Don’t forget the unmatched trauma and trust issues.”

Inej didn’t know if it was Kaz’s deadpan delivery of the comment or the absurdity of their situation, but Inej laughed, truly, genuinely laughed. It was something she hadn’t done since before overtaking the Chattel Rose. She saw a smile twitch against the corners of Kaz’s lips and an odd look flashed across his face. It was a look she had seen before but had never been able to place. 

“Come on,” Kaz said, the smile still there. “We don’t want to be late.”

The walk to the Visser’s house was quiet. Kaz walked next to her, his gate uneven as usual; however, the rhythmic thud of his cane in the dirt sounded different than before. She snuck a glance at the dark brown cane. It had to be the material. This one was not made by a Fabrikator with a specific bone-crushing weight. It was different and it didn’t fit Kaz, Inej mused. It was too…unassuming. Kaz hadn’t become Dirtyhands by being unassuming. 

Inej looked at the path in front of them when Kaz broke the silence. 

“Do you remember our cover story?”

Inej looked back at Kaz. Of course she did. He knew she wouldn’t forget. But the sheen of sweat on Kaz’s brow stopped her from questioning him. “I’m Inej Ghafa, originally from a caravan in Ravka. I left for reasons they don’t need to know and found myself in Ketterdam where I learned the art of sailing and trading. I met you when I was fifteen and I am now the captain of one of the many trading ships under your command.”

“And the bruise on your cheek?”

“It’s from an accident aboard my ship. We hit a patch of rough water and when I was helping a crewmate tie down some loose cargo, I got hit.”

“And the knives?”

Inej shot him a look. “I don’t intend for them to see my knives.”

Kaz smirked but it looked half hearted. “And what about my story?”

“You are Johannus Rietveld, cousin of Jordie and Kaz Rietveld,” Inej said. Kaz’s real name felt like lead on her tongue. They had yet to really talk about that revelation. “You never met them in person, but you heard about their unfortunate deaths in Ketterdam. Your father died when you were fourteen, leaving you with a generous amount of wealth he had collected through his business as a merchant in the city. You took up his trade as a businessman and bought your cousins’ old farm to keep it in the family.”

“What brings us here now?”

“The gang attacks in Ketterdam have grown violent. You were injured when some of the gangs opened fire on each other. You decided it’d be better to leave the city for a while.”

“Why are you here with me?”

“Winter is coming and so my ship is being repaired to prepare for the rough seas. You invited me and a few friends from the city to stay at your farm until things have calmed down in the city. Our friends are a few days behind us.”

Kaz nodded. “And what about us? What’s our relationship?”

Inej furrowed her brow. This wasn’t something they had explicitly discussed for this situation, but it was something they’d decided before. It was a part of their deal to keep each other safe. “We work together. Nothing more.”

“Good,” Kaz said almost distractedly. “Good. We need to keep the details straight.”

Inej stopped walking and looked at Kaz. He was flustered, she realized. Nervous, even. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Kaz like this. He was always a mask of indifference, a collected front against any storm. He didn’t show his fear, not even when the whole city of Ketterdam was against him. But now, the last few days had worn on him and his unease was almost palpable. Dark circles rested under his eyes and his face looked gaunt and worn. The few hours of sleep they had gotten helped, but he still looked exhausted. His hair was ruffled and dirty and his dark eyes looked everywhere and nowhere at once. 

“Kaz,” she said, halting his movements. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Kaz huffed. “I told you. Maryse won’t take no for an answer.”

“Since when has that stopped you?”

“Since Dirtyhands died burning in the Barrel.”

“Kaz,” Inej sighed, “you’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. If you want—”

“If you don’t want to go, just say so,” Kaz snapped, his voice full of venom. 

Inej bristled. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Kaz’s shoulders twitched at her tone of voice, but his glare remained firmly in place. “I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for a response and resumed his steady pace towards the house. Inej took a deep breath and followed after him. She knew he knew she was right. They were both exhausted and on edge. The rational thing to do would be to call the whole dinner off, but this was Kaz. He never did anything without a reason. She brushed away her anger. She needed to keep a level head for this night to work. So she squared her shoulders and did something she had done countless times before: she trusted Kaz. 

The only sound that signaled their arrival at the Visser home a few minutes later was the quick rap of Kaz’s knuckles against the front door. The old wooden porch hadn’t even made a sound under their weight. Old habits die hard, Inej thought as she watched Kaz straighten his sleeves. Even though they were trying to be normal, their footsteps belonged to ghosts.

The door opened then, revealing the smiling face of Maryse Visser. “Oh good! You made it just in time! Come in! Come in! Everyone is already here!”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Inej said with as much sincerity as she could muster. She stepped into the house, Kaz right behind her. Maryse was already moving towards the direction of the dining room, talking all the way. Inej leaned toward Kaz. “When Maryse says ‘everyone’ who does she mean?”

Kaz just shrugged. “From what little I remember, it could mean anything.”

Inej cast him a look, but said nothing in response. She turned back to what Maryse was saying. 

“Normally we like to eat outside with this many guests,” Maryse said as they passed through a small doorway. “But the sun sets too early at this time of year, so we will be eating inside!”

When they entered the dining room, Inej couldn’t stop the shiver of dread that went down her spine. The small room was packed and from the way almost everyone seemed to be a reflection of Mrs. Visser, she knew they were all family. One big family that barely fit inside the room.

“Everyone! This is Johannus and Inej, our new neighbors!” Maryse said and suddenly the entire room was focused on them. Kaz shifted behind Inej and she didn’t need to look at him to know he was uncomfortable. “Come, come.” This time Maryse spoke to them. “Sit wherever you want.”

Maryse might have said they could sit wherever they wanted, but one look around the room told her everyone already had their own sliver staked out. Only two chairs were left open in the middle of the table. They were so close together that there was just enough room for two people to sit shoulder to shoulder with everyone else around them. A perfect spot for a friendly interrogation. A perfect spot to be touched from all sides. 

Inej looked at Kaz, whose lips were pressed into a thin line. He stared at the open spot with some akin to horror and disgust, but the look passed quickly. Kaz took a deep breath and stepped towards the table. Inej followed his lead and sat down. Immediately, Inej felt her skin crawl at the close proximity of the strangers around her. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time, but her exhaustion and paranoia were making her uneasy. Kaz’s shoulder was pressed into hers and oddly, the touch felt comforting. Inej looked at Kaz’s face to see if he felt the same way. His eyes were unreadable, but the two inch gap between him and the young man next to him told her what she needed to know.

“Are you okay?” Inej whispered, her voice barely making a sound.

Kaz looked down at her and nodded, an almost imperceptible dip of his chin. He was stressed, but it was a testament to his time in the Barrel that none of it showed on his face. The only way she knew he was on edge was the way his muscles tensed next to hers. He didn’t pull away from the touch of her shoulder next to his, but she tried her best to not move in case it stressed him out further. 

With them seated, Maryse began introducing everyone in the room. There were five Visser children, two spouses, and two grandchildren already in the room. Maryse’s husband had yet to appear. As Maryse said everyone’s names, Inej was quick to file the information away. Hansen was the young man sitting next to Kaz and Lina, his wife, sat next to him. Mira and Sofie, the two youngest Visser daughters, sat next to Inej. Across the table was a chair for Maryse, Britt, Arabella, and Bram. Arabella and Bram’s two sons, Lars and Morgen, took up the rest of the table. There was only one seat left unassigned: the chair at the head of the table. 

“And then there’s Pieter, my husband,” Maryse said, gesturing to the empty seat. “He’s in the kitchen finishing up the chicken. Chat amongst yourselves while I got help him finish up.”

And with that, Maryse left and a wavering silence fell over the room. Inej could almost feel the questions building behind the others' closed lips. She wasn’t used to this, she realized. She had lived in the shadows, unnoticed and unseen for far too long for this kind of attention to be comfortable. Even at sea she lived somewhere between noticed and forgotten. She made a living drifting in and out of people’s attention. She wasn’t used to being the center of strangers’ attention. But she was a Ghafa and performing was in her blood. She had a job to do and a little unease wasn’t going to stop her.

Besides, she had survived worse. This was nothing.  

With that in mind, Inej put on her best smile and beside her, Kaz erased any trace of his signature glare and opted for a surprisingly sheepish smile. To anyone else in the room they looked like two new neighbors who got roped into a dinner they weren’t quite expecting. Which, in all honesty, wasn’t that far from the truth. 

It was Britt who broke the silence. “I bet you weren’t expecting the whole circus to come into town when Ma invited you to dinner.”

Kaz surprised Inej by chuckling slightly. “It was a surprise,” he said, his voice was relaxed but his body was rigid. Inej gripped the fabric of his sleeve between her fingers. His arm relaxed slightly. 

“I’m sorry if I don’t remember your names,” Inej said with a soft laugh. “I’m afraid I’m rather terrible at names.”

Inej could almost taste the irony of her words, but she knew from experience that no one else did. 

Beside Kaz, Hansen chuckled. “Welcome to Lij. Families are a lot bigger out here than they are in the city. You came from Ketterdam, right?”

“How'd you know?” Kaz asked. 

Hansen shrugged. “An educated guess. You smelled like a city boy—ow!”

Hansen suddenly jerked forward, his hands grabbing at his shin under the table. “What was that for?” he asked, looking rather affronted at Britt. 

“Stop spewing nonsense, you podge,” Britt said, “I was the one who told you they were from Ketterdam.” 

“Oh yeah? When?”

“You idiot! That was ten minutes ago!” Britt shot back, but before Hansen could reply, the table around them erupted. 

“Ha! I told you!” Bram, Britt’s brother-in-law, yelled, slamming his fist on the table. Beside him, his wife, Arabella rolled her eyes as her two sons began mimicking their father. Their small fists pounding the wood added to the chaos around them. 

“Oh come on!” Sofie shouted from Inej’s right. “Dinner hasn’t even started yet!”

Lina, Hansen’s wife, stood up and held out an open hand towards Sofie, who barely contained her scream of frustration. She shoved a handful of wadded up kruge into Lina’s outstretched hand. Britt’s confused frown morphed into a look of unamused shock.

“You did not make bets on when we would start arguing…” Britt said, glaring at her family.

“Of course we did,” Sofie huffed in frustration, throwing a similar handful of kruge at Bram. “I thought you’d be civil enough to last at least until the food was on the table because of the guests, but no. You had to start arguing the moment Ma left the room.”

“I told you, Sof,” Mira said from her spot next to Sofie. “Hansen always likes to put on a show and Britt cannot stand to watch him lie. It obviously was going to end this way.”

“Oh yeah?” Sofie said, turning on her sister. “Then why didn’t you bet?”

“I don’t gamble, especially not against Lina. She could swindle you all and none of you would see it coming. It doesn’t matter if you are on her side or not.”

Inej couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face as the argument and the bickering continued around her. Any tension caused by their presence had vanished into thin air. Inej snuck a glance at Kaz who was watching the family’s interaction with an odd look on his face. He said nothing and Inej realized he was hardly moving. Only his dark eyes tracked the flow of the conversation. Everything else about him was frozen, waiting. Waiting for what, she did not know. 

“Okay, but really!” Hansen’s voice cut through the symphony of voices and derailed a rather enthralling debate about just how much Lina would be able to swindle them without them noticing. The table’s attention shifted back to the man who started it all. Hansen looked at Kaz and Inej. “You are from Ketterdam, right?”

Inej smiled at the way the conversation came full circle and tried not to laugh at the way Britt’s eye disappeared into the back of her head. 

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?” Britt sighed. 

Hansen huffed. “Because I’m trying to start a conversation. Ever had one before?”

“Dinner is ready!” Maryse called, cutting off Britt’s retort as she came back from the kitchen. She set a bowl of steaming mashed potatoes on the table. “Bram and Hansen, would you mind bringing out the rest of the dishes?”

“Of course not, Ma.”

“At your service, ma’am.”

It was then as Bram and Hansen shuffled to the kitchen that the final family member entered the room. 

Pieter Visser was shorter than Inej had expected. He had to be a few inches shorter than Kaz but his shoulders were a lot wider. The years he had worked on his farm were evident in his arms and in his tanned skin. He reminded her so much of Colm, she realized. Except this man was authentically Kerch, not Kaelish. Pieter’s son, Hansen, looked exactly like him, just a few decades younger. He had a kind face, but an intimidating stature. He had every reason to look like a threat, but Inej had seen threats before and she knew this man wouldn’t hurt a fly. But she questioned that thought when Kaz tensed beside her the moment Pieter entered the room. 

Her close proximity made her hyper-aware of his every movement and her fingers still gripped his sleeve. She felt the fabric of his shirt shift between her fingers as his muscles flexed. His gloved hands were fisted on his thighs so tight that his injured hand started to shake.   

Gently as she could manage, Inej released his sleeve and touched his shaking fist. His whole arm flinched and his eyes met hers. 

“Relax,” she whispered, her voice barely audible above the sound of dishes clinking on the table. I’m here. 

She didn’t say the last part out loud, but she knew Kaz would understand anyway. Slowly, he released his fist and his arm stopped shaking. Inej lifted her fingers off of his but didn’t get far when leather encased them. She glanced at Kaz out of the corner of her eye, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, his eyes were trained on Pieter who now sat at the head of the table. Inej squeezed his fingers. 

She didn’t know why Pieter made him uneasy. She had yet to see if he was really a threat, but if he tried anything, he’d have to go through Inej first. 

“Dinner hasn’t even started and you’re already winning bets,” Pieter chuckled, nodding to the kruge resting in Lina’s hands. 

Britt huffed. “You knew about the bet too?”

“It was impossible to miss the ruckus,” Pieter explained. 

“I think that’s everything,” Maryse said, plopping one last dish down on the table. There was chicken, potatoes, bread, and a whole variety of vegetables that had to have come from the farm just outside the house. “Dig in!”

As the table exploded into motion, Kaz didn’t let go of Inej’s hand and instead, used his left hand to put food on his plate. Inej followed his example and realized for the first time just how hungry she was. Despite the nerves that still hummed through her veins, she knew she’d eat her fill. 

Light chatter filled the room as people passed dishes and loaded food on their plates. Inej felt like she was watching everyone simultaneously, looking for anything odd or threatening. But so far, they appeared to be a normal, innocent family. Inej could still feel the nervous energy leaking off of Kaz, but despite the glances at Pieter out of the corner of his eye, he appeared completely calm like usual. It felt almost wrong to have her hand in his out of fear of it making this worse, but it seemed to help in some way. 

This time, Kaz didn’t even twitch when Pieter struck up a conversation. 

“So, Johannus, is it?” The name Johannus ran off Pieter’s tongue as if it was something used often. And for all Inej knew, it probably was. 

Kaz nodded his head in response. 

“And you’re Inej?” This time Pieter gestured to her. Her name didn’t flow quite as smoothly off his tongue but it didn’t sound alien like it had when others spoke her name. 

“Yes, sir,” Inej said with a smile. 

“Please, call me Pieter.” The answer felt automatic as if it was something he told everyone. He seems like a humble man, Inej thought. Not too picky about authority. But what farmer really was?

Pieter shifted his attention back to Kaz. “Well, Johannus, it’s nice to finally meet the man who saved my hide after all these years. Though I will admit, I thought you were older. It couldn’t have been easy getting a sum of cash that large at your age.”

“It was all my father,” Kaz said, twiddling with the fork in his hand. He didn’t look away from Pieter. “It was his merchant business that helped purchase the farm.” 

“It must be a strong business,” Pieter responded. “Is he a part of the Merchant Council?”

“No. We are relatively new to the city and our money wasn’t enough to consider us as a potential candidate.”

“Why did you purchase the farm and not your father?”

Kaz sighed and glanced away from Pieter. “He passed away before we had heard about what happened to my uncle. I didn’t learn about the farm’s predicament until a year or so later.”

“How old were you when your father died?” Maryse asked. Her voice sounded kind, but there was something about her tone that almost implied a double meaning. 

“Fourteen,” Kaz said. “I purchased the Rietveld farm with a portion of the money he left me.” 

“Why did you do it?” Pieter asked. “Buy the farm, I mean.”

Kaz shrugged and it looked nonchalant. “Because it’s something my cousin Jordie had wanted to do, but he died before it could happen.”

The table around them fell silent at the mention of Jordie’s name. Many of the table's occupants were already listening to the conversation but now all eyes were on them. Inej watched Kaz closely. Their plan was that Kaz didn’t know the Rietveld brothers, that he had bought back the farm to seize an opportunity. But now he seemed to be changing the story. Why?

Britt leaned forward, closer to Kaz with a certain desperation in her eyes. “What happened to him? We never heard anything from them after they left Lij.”

Inej didn’t take her eyes off Kaz. She knew Jordie was his brother and that he was dead. Something had taken him from Kaz not long after Pekka Rollins left them with nothing. Kaz had said Pekka Rollings killed him, but she didn’t think Rollins had done it personally. Inej had never been able to get a straight answer out of Kaz, but then again, she hadn’t really asked. She figured he would tell her when he was ready. She had no idea how he would respond to these people who actually knew Jordie or if it would really even be the truth. So she waited with the rest of the table to see what his answer would be.

Kaz was silent for a long moment and then he spoke. His voice was a low rasp. “The Queen’s Lady Plague hit soon after they came to Ketterdam. Jordie and Kaz… they didn’t survive.”

If the table was silent before, it was as still as a graveyard now. Even the two little boys at the end of the table paused at the sudden shift in the conversation. The silence stretched for a long moment and then one by one, almost everyone at the table nodded as if this was something they all thought but had no proof of. Almost everyone. Maryse laid a comforting hand on Britt’s shoulder, who was staring at Kaz in open disbelief. 

“Doesn’t Ketterdam have precautions in place against an outbreak? Why did they get the plague?” Britt asked, a note of accusation in her voice. “Were they on the streets? Why didn’t you help them with all your money?”

“Britt! Don’t accuse him of things!” Maryse chided, but the damage was already done. 

Kaz’s hand clenched around Inej’s like a vice or maybe hers clenched around his, Inej wasn’t sure. A muscle jumped in Kaz’s jaw and she felt him take a deep breath. His glare, which he had successfully held back thus far, came back in full force. Britt paled but didn’t back down. She wanted her answer. 

But before Kaz could answer, a voice cut through the charged silence. 

“Did you get it too?”

All eyes swivelled towards Arabella, who turned red at the sudden attention. “S-Sorry, I work part time as a medik and in my training I studied the plague’s symptoms,” she explained. “The small scars across your cheeks… Survivors usually get scars just like that from firepox sores.”

Small scars on his cheeks? Inej swiveled back towards Kaz and felt like she was seeing him again for the first time. She searched his face and sure enough, there they were… A cluster of scars were scattered across his cheekbones and forehead. They were small, faint, and old. They faded into the background of Kaz’s features and were easily overlooked, but they were there. Inej didn’t know how she’d never noticed them before. But then again, she wasn’t in Ketterdam during the firepox outbreak. She didn’t know the disease left it’s survivors scarred. 

Next to Inej, Kaz’s breathing stuttered. “I—yes… I did.”

The table fell silent as if everyone didn't know how to respond. Kaz was pale next to Inej and his fingers quivered slightly before he withdrew his hand from hers. Inej had seen Kaz lie enough times to know what his lies looked like. They were delivered calmly, without doubt or question. His truth on the other hand? It came out messy with shaking hands and words that tripped over themselves in their haste to escape before his walls shut entirely. The boy sitting next to her wasn’t the boy who built a reputation on a lie. This boy was someone who had just shared a secret that had probably never been shared before. 

For the second time that day, a piece of the story of Kaz Brekker clicked into place. The story became a little bit clearer. She’d learned Kaz left Lij with his brother, Jordie, at a young age. Somehow they got roped up in Rollin’s snare where he left them with nothing. And so, the two little boys were cast aside. But this new revelation opened avenues Inej hadn’t thought of before. If Kaz was telling the truth, and she was positive he was, Jordie wasn’t killed by Rollins. It was the Queen Lady’s Plague. Nothing could stop two homeless boys from getting sick. Nothing was there to help them get better. Jordie died because of the firepox, but Kaz was sick too. Somehow Kaz wasn’t killed when his brother was. Maybe he wasn’t as sick? Maybe he got help? Whatever it was, something happened between Jordie’s death and Kaz deciding to change his name, bury his past, and build a gang from the ground up for the sole purpose of getting revenge. Something big and life altering—and not in a good way. 

Inej couldn’t even guess what the answer might be. She wondered if she even wanted to find out. 

“Are you from Ketterdam too, Inej?”

Inej jolted out of her thoughts and looked towards Lina, who was looking at her expectantly. 

“N-no,” Inej said, her mind trying to catch up with the change of conversation. “I’m from Ravka, actually.”

“You said your family lives in a caravan, right?” Maryse asked, jumping at the chance to move on. Inej was more than happy to oblige. 

“Yes,” she smiled, “they do.”

Mira gasped and turned towards Inej. “Are you Suli?”

Inej smiled and saw Kaz glance at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yes, I am.”

And just like that the conversation moved on to other topics and the food on their plates slowly began to disappear as if the whole conversation had never happened at all. But Inej knew it was unwise to believe that temptation. The conversation had moved on but the emotions it unearthed were far from gone. That much was evident in the way Kaz sat as tight as a bow string next to her or the way Britt picked at her food with a little too much indignation. 

The rest of dinner was rather uneventful compared to how it started. The food was good and the company was surprisingly enjoyable. This family was full of energy and laughter. There was a healthy amount of banter between the siblings, but no matter how horribly they teased each other, Inej could tell how much they cared and worried about each other. Mira and Sofie occupied the two young grandsons, letting their parents engage in conversation with the adults. Lina and Arabella were quick to lighten Britt’s mood by giving Hansen a hard time about something Inej knew nothing about. Hansen, for his part, let them heckle him and even subtly encouraged it just to see a smile on Britt’s face again. They reminded Inej so much of her own family on the plains of Ravka that she felt a physical pain of longing.

Kaz and Inej were left relatively alone, and both were grateful for it. The family did inquire about small things and the answers were quickly given. 

How long are you staying? For a few weeks at most. 

What do you do in Ketterdam? We run a business importing goods into Ketterdam. Inej captains a ship, Kaz keeps things running smoothly. 

How bad are the gangs? Worse than normal.

What happened to your face, Inej? An accident aboard the ship on the way here. 

They weren’t asked anymore questions they didn’t expect. Sofie didn’t seem to like their answer that they were only coworkers, muttering something about how unromantic that was. No one noticed the bandages wrapped around Kaz’s arm under his sweater. No one asked about the cane or the scars they weren’t supposed to have. 

Despite the relative peace that settled over the table, Inej couldn’t relax. She still didn’t know why Kaz didn’t seem to trust Pieter and she wasn’t going to let her guard down. After all, Kaz had to have a reason for insisting about this dinner. 

But nothing suspicious was happening. This was just a normal family with a normal hardworking father and mother. Nothing about them was like anyone in Ketterdam. But no matter how normal they looked, she still couldn’t relax. 

At the end of dinner as everyone helped clear the table, she found out why. 

“Johannus,” Pieter said over the sound of clinking dishes. “Can I speak to you?”

Kaz looked at Pieter, his face unreadable. 

“Alone.” Pieter added, casting a significant look at Inej and the rest of the family. 

Inej was frozen at her spot at the table as she watched Kaz nod. The plates in her hands felt awkward and heavy as her nerves went into overdrive. What did Pieter want? 

Kaz stood and grabbed his cane, making his way towards Pieter who stood at the opposite end of the room. He didn’t look back at Inej, he didn’t even glance in her direction. Instead, he tapped his gloved hand against his thigh three times. 

Short. Long. Short. 

In other words, follow me. 

Inej didn’t need to be told twice. The moment Kaz and Pieter disappeared from the room, Inej went in the opposite direction toward the kitchen. It was chaotic in there and full of people stacking dishes and putting away things from dinner. All Inej had to do was set her plate by the sink, weave in between the chaos, and sneak out the other side. Once she was in the hallway, she took a left, heading towards the front of the house. Pieter took Kaz out the door they had come in and as far as Inej had seen there was only one exit to the outside. But in order to go that way, Inej would have to go back through the dining room that was full of curious family members. She could get through without being seen, but she had a better option. 

Inej found herself in a hallway that contained a flight of stairs and a window. In seconds, she had slipped out of the house and up the side of the outer wall until she perched on the lowest part of the roof. A few seconds later, she was standing right above Pieter and Kaz, their soft conversation just loud enough to be heard. 

Inej had missed the beginning of the conversation, whatever it may have been, but now it seemed that Pieter was cutting to the chase. 

“I haven’t gotten this far in life by forgetting the faces of my friends,” Pieter was saying, his voice void of suspicion. “I know who you are, Kaz."

There was a beat of silence. Inej felt like her heart had stopped beating.

 “Did Maryse tell you?”

Pieter crossed his arms, a gesture that looked threatening in the dim light. “No, not exactly, but I knew it was you the moment I saw you.” Something weavered in Pieter’s voice then. “You look like the spitting image of your father.”

Kaz’s jaw twitched, breaking his mask of indifference. “Are you going to tell everyone who I am?” 

It was a question that hid a threat behind it. Pieter, to his credit, did not miss the edge in Kaz’s voice and his eyes darkened. 

“No,” Pieter replied. “I’m not a fan of uncomfortable questions.”

“What business, then?”

Pieter chuckled though it lacked humor. “You’ve grown into quite the city boy, Kaz. Though I don’t know if I would call you a merchant.”

Kaz said nothing. 

“I have one question for you,” Pieter said. His tone indicated a threat and Inej shivered, anticipation thrumming through her veins. Her knives were pressed into her hands when Pieter continued. “Are you here to hurt my family?”

Kaz didn’t hesitate in his reply. “No. Of course not.” 

Inej didn’t detect a lie in his words and she breathed a sigh of relief. Despite her unease and tension the entire dinner, she had come to like this family. They had no idea who they were dealing with and they didn’t deserve to get hurt. The conviction in Kaz’s voice told Inej that he felt the same. 

Pieter continued to stare Kaz down. He seemed to be mulling over Kaz’s response, but unlike Inej, Pieter didn’t know this version of Kaz. He may have recognized the little boy he had once known, but the man in front of him was a stranger. He didn’t appear to trust Kaz at all. 

“Those bandages on your arm,” Pieter said, “the limp that follows you everywhere. I may be from the country, but I’m not a fool. I know a fighter when I see one. I can tell the difference between scars made by accident and scars made by fists and knives.”

As silent as a ghost, Inej lowered herself down from the roof, falling into the shadows next to the house. Neither of the men noticed her movement and she crept closer, her knives at the ready. She didn’t know what Pieter was up to, but she would be ready for whatever happened. 

“Word reached us this morning of a fire in Ketterdam,” Pieter continued. “It destroyed the home of the city’s biggest gang. Their leader is rumored to have died due to the injuries he sustained in the fire, including a gunshot to the shoulder.”

Pieter eyed the bandage that was peaking out of the neckline of Kaz’s sweater. Kaz had gone completely still and his eyes were as cold as the grave.

Pieter took a step closer to Kaz. “All the newspaper spoke about was the city rejoicing over the death of Kaz Brekker. ”

Two more steps and Pieter was comfortably in Kaz’s personal space. Pieter, who was a few inches shorter than Kaz, looked every bit as intimidating as the Barrel boss he was staring down. But Inej had a feeling the intimidation didn’t come from Pieter himself but from the fact that Kaz was shaking like a leaf.

Pieter looked Kaz dead in the eye. “Kaz. That’s not a very common name, now is it, Mr. Brekker.”

Chapter Text

Out of all his distorted memories of his childhood, Kaz remembered his last day in Lij the most. The days leading up to it were a mess, a blur. But for some reason that last day stood out as clear as day. 

Jordie and Kaz had spent the night at the Visser home. They had spent every night there since their father’s death, if Kaz remembered correctly, but that last night was different. That night the Visser’s had refused to let them sleep alone. They piled all the blankets and pillows they could find into the living room and all the kids fell asleep together nestled next to the hearth. Even Arabella and Jordie, the oldest of the bunch, had joined them. 

That night had been so warm, Kaz remembered. The fire warmed the stones of the hearth at his feet and for a moment, he had been able to convince himself that everything that had happened wasn’t real, that it had all been an awful nightmare. In the morning he’d wake up to his father knocking on the door. He’d be able to go home and everything would be okay. He’d see his father smile again and maybe, just maybe it would make everything okay. Kaz was certain that a smile and a hug was all it would take to erase blood from his mind.

But when the morning sun came, Kaz opened his eyes to a fireplace full of dying embers and a cold draft blowing across his skin. There was no knock on the door, no home to go back to, no hug to make all the bad go away.

He remembered standing next to Jordie as Maryse fiddled with the small pack across his shoulders. She straightened his jacket and tried to smooth down the mop of hair on his head. His hair hadn’t cooperated with anyone since his mother died. He wondered briefly why Maryse even tried. 

She said something then, but Kaz wasn’t paying attention to the words she said. Instead he stood there, trying to memorize the way her voice sounded as she spoke. His mother’s voice was nothing but an idea, a figment of his imagination. He’d been too young when he’d lost her to really remember her, but this time he was older and he was determined to remember. This time he wouldn’t forget. 

The timbre of her voice was smooth but brittle as if she was about to cry. It was a sound Kaz had heard a lot recently, he realized. That was how she had spoken after his father died when she held him close for hours until his body stopped shaking. But what once had been a comforting sound, now made him want to cry. 

But he wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t. He had to keep himself together for Jordie. For the Vissers. He had to show them he could handle this. 

He had heard Pieter arguing with Jordie about going to Ketterdam. Jordie was adamant that it was their best chance at surviving. Their best chance at starting over. Pieter felt otherwise. Kaz hadn’t stuck around long enough to hear Pieter’s argument. He didn’t think he’d understand it anyway. Jordie had told him later that Pieter felt like they wouldn’t be able to live on their own in the city. He doubted them and thought they wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jordie had said. 

Kaz should have realized then that Jordie wasn’t the perfect boy Kaz had made him out to be. Jordie was fallible. He should have listened to Pieter. Ketterdam didn’t lead them to success. It led them to their doom. Pieter had tried to stop them; he tried to do what’s right. But that was something Kaz wouldn’t realize for a long time. On that last morning in Lij, Kaz’s image of his brother had yet to be shattered. 

So when Pieter came and knelt in front of Kaz, he stood up tall and tried to hide his pain and his fear. But where Kaz expected to find doubt, he only saw compassion in Pieter’s eyes. He rested his hands on Kaz’s small shoulders and smiled. It was a sad smile, a smile full of hidden pain. It made Kaz miss his dad with a wave of sharp longing.

“Do you know how a barn is built, Kaz?” Pieter had asked, his hands heavy on Kaz’s shoulders. 

“No,” Kaz whispered. 

“Slowly,” Pieter said. “Piece by piece.”

Pieter gestured toward the barn standing behind their home. It was made of a combination of logs and brick, strong enough to withstand every storm Kaz had seen. “That barn wasn’t made in a day.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kaz asked. This didn’t seem like something you would say to someone you might never see again. 

“Because I want you to remember that nothing is made all at once. Things are built slowly over time. You’re getting a chance to start over and I want you to make good of it. Become someone your parents would be proud of, Kaz. Anything is possible if you work at it day by day.”

“Brick by brick,” Kaz muttered.

“Good boy,” Pieter said, smiling. “Listen to your brother. He’ll keep you safe in Ketterdam.”

Everything about that day haunted him. Everything Pieter said rattled around his head like ghosts he wished he could forget. 

Listen to your brother. 

He’ll keep you safe. 

Piece by piece. 

Become someone your parents would be proud of, Kaz. 

Brick by brick. 

I want you to remember that nothing is made all at once. 

Piece by piece. 

Become someone your parents would be proud of, Kaz.  

Brick by brick. 

Listen to your brother. 

He’ll keep you safe. 

Brick by brick. 

Become someone your parents would be proud of, Kaz. 

Brick. 

By. 

Brick. 

And who had he become exactly?

“Kaz. That’s not a very common name, now is it, Mr. Brekker.”

Kaz felt like the air had been ripped from his lungs. Ever since Maryse invited them to dinner, Kaz had tried to plan for every possible scenario. He’d planned for the worst situation where the Vissers found out who he really was. He knew with the people hunting him it was only a matter of time. But he didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He didn’t expect it to hurt this much. 

It felt like someone had ripped off his skin to expose the mess he was on the inside. He couldn’t breathe and for the first time in a long time, he was truly, deeply afraid. 

Pieter took a step toward Kaz. His blue eyes were sharp and piercing. Unlike his memory, they lacked any compassion and were colder than he ever remembered seeing them. 

“Are you really Kaz Brekker?” Pieter asked, his voice icy. 

Kaz’s tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t respond. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. 

All night hazy memories he couldn’t quite remember bubbled to the surface. The way the Visser children jested and teased stirred something deep inside of him. A sense of longing and familiarity had welled up in his chest. Then Pieter had entered the room and his last piece of advice had come back to Kaz with such clarity his body physically tensed. 

Become someone your parents would be proud of, Kaz. 

Kaz had remembered what Pieter told him about the way a barn was built. He remembered the advice that went with it. But just like everything else about him, it had become twisted and wrong. He didn’t build himself up piece by piece to become a better man. No, he built himself up brick by brick to tear others down. To get revenge. To bring ruin on the ruinous. And he was proud of it. He was proud of what he had become, for the most part… 

He was Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. He was the reason people locked their doors at night. He had become the king of the Barrel. He had destroyed everyone who had worked to destroy him. He’d torn down Pekka Rollin and his entire empire. He was powerful. He was feared. He was everything his nine-year-old self was not. 

But standing here in front of Pieter, he had never been so ashamed of what he had become. 

Become someone your parents would be proud of, Kaz. 

Would they? Would they be proud of the person he had become? Would they be able to see their son behind the monster that had taken his place? Would Pieter?

Kaz didn’t know why he cared. He didn’t know why the thought of Pieter’s disappointment sent ice water through his veins. What was wrong with him? Where did this fear come from? And why did it make him want to weep?

“Yes, I am,” Kaz rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am Kaz Brekker.”

Pieter was silent for a long moment. “And are you really Kaz Rietveld?”

Once more, Kaz felt like he couldn’t breathe. Pieter had already called him out on being Kaz instead of Johannus, but now he wanted Kaz to actually say the words? Could Kaz do that?

Kaz could feel Inej perched in the shadows near the edge of the house and for a moment he wished she would step into the light and make herself known. Cause a distraction, tell Pieter he had it all wrong, threaten him with her knives for asking dangerous questions... Anything. Anything to stop him from answering this question. But she didn’t. She stayed in the shadows and the silence stretched on. 

With effort, Kaz took the deepest breath his injured lungs could allow. He straightened his spine and gathered his courage. He used to think Rietveld and Brekker could not exist on the same plane.  He had spent the last decade pretending like Rietveld didn’t exist, that he was gone. It would be so easy to lie to Pieter. To tell him that Kaz Rietveld really was dead and that he was just using his name. That the physical resemblance was just a coincidence. But when he looked into Pieter’s eyes he knew that he couldn’t. All he could do was answer as honestly as a liar could. 

“Yes, I was.”

“Was?” Pieter asked.

Kaz took a shaky breath. “No one has called me Kaz Rietveld since Jordie died.”

“So your little story in there was true? Jordie is dead?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

Immediately, Kaz felt his walls go up. He’d shared too much tonight. He’d been too vulnerable. This family knew too much already. He was beginning to panic. He could feel it. Not the adrenaline-filled panic during a fight gone wrong, but the sweaty, nauseating panic that rendered him defenseless. The kind of panic that led to him passing out in the back of prison carts and throwing up in bathroom sinks. He could feel it coming, washing over him like dirty canal water. It muddled his brain and made him feel like a helpless nine-year-old boy floating in the unforgiving waters of the True Sea. 

But Kaz hadn’t spent the last ten years fighting his demons to let one man tear him down. He would answer Pieter’s question with as much truth as he needed to know. Kaz owed Pieter that much. 

“We ended up on the streets,” Kaz answered, fisting his shaking hands. “We got sick, Jordie died, I did not. Everything I did after that I did to survive.”

Pieter’s face was unreadable. Kaz noticed he had stepped out of his personal space, but was still in arm’s reach. “Everything? You became the city's biggest, deadliest criminal just to survive?”

Kaz sighed. Of course it wasn’t all out of survival. There was a healthy mix of greed and revenge mixed in, but those were details Pieter didn’t need to know. “It worked, did it not?”

Pieter scoffed. It was a soft sound, full of disbelief and sorrow. “You never did strike me as the ambitious type.”

“Time changes us all. I’m not the Kaz you knew.”

The suspicion and ice came back to Pieter’s eyes then. “A fact I’m already far too aware of.”

There was a moment of silence before Pieter continued. “If you’re not here to hurt my family, why are you here?”

Kaz lifted his chin, looking at the man in front of him through narrowed eyes. Pieter wanted the truth. In his mind, he needed it to feel safe. But Kaz’s truth never brought safety and the truth Pieter just unveiled was far more dangerous than he realized. If anyone found out Kaz was hiding here, nothing would stop Ragnvald from finding him. Not the distance, not the farm, not the Vissers. Pieter already knew far too much. That was Kaz’s fault. He wouldn’t put this family in more danger. And besides, Kaz’s honesty had worn out.

“We’re here to regroup before leaving the country,” Kaz said. “The situation in Ketterdam had grown precarious and I needed a way out. Death is easy to fake in a city full of it. It is a good way to throw off your enemies.”

“Your enemies?” Pieter spat. “Enemies you will bring here, no doubt?”

“As long as you tell no one about my true identity, you will have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, but I find it hard to trust the words of a criminal.”

Pieter took two steps towards him, back into his personal space. Kaz blinked as spots filled his vision and he tried and failed to shallow down the panic that climbed up his throat. 

Inej was right. They shouldn’t have come to this dinner. He hadn’t been thinking clearly—he still wasn’t thinking clearly. The fire, the Reaper’s Barge, being back in that house, all of it was already too much… And now Pieter knew who he really was. He knew about Dirtyhands, he knew about Brekker… All Pieter had to do was stick out a hand and he would find out exactly what kind of ghosts haunted Kaz. 

Kaz could feel Pieter’s breath on his face as he spoke. “If you even think about hurting my family, I’ll tell the stadwatch exactly who—”

The softest sound, a shift of air, and suddenly Pieter stopped talking. Kaz blinked and his eyes focused on the knife that was pressed into the soft skin of Pieter’s throat. Inej was standing in the small space between them, her body acting as a barrier to stop Pieter from touching Kaz. Her eyes were as cold as the metal of her blade.

“If you do that, you’ll only bring death upon your family.” Inej’s eyes flashed. “And it won’t be by my blade.”

Inej’s arrival sent a fresh wave of awareness through Kaz’s mind. The cold determination in her eye, the deadly balance of her blade, the fear on Pieter’s face. It was enough to snap him out of the panic that was beginning to creep in. 

He reached forward and grabbed Inej’s sleeve. It only took a gentle nudge from him for Inej to withdraw her knife. She stayed between the two, however, and never once looked away from Pieter as he backpedaled away from them. 

“We have dangerous enemies, Pieter,” Kaz said. “You leave us alone and we’ll make sure no one harms your family.”

At his words, Inej looked at Kaz. He was being soft again. She only looked at him like that when he was being reasonable. 

“How can I trust you?” Pieter spit. “How do I know you won’t slit my throat?”

“You can’t and shouldn’t trust us,” Kaz said. “But if Ketterdam has taught me one thing, it taught me that a smart man remembers who hurts him, but a wise man remembers who was kind. You showed me kindness all those years ago and I intend to return the favor.”

Despite his reputation, Kaz didn’t like to break promises even if it was, at times, an occupational hazard. Broken promises are what got him into this mess in the first place and he wouldn’t become like those who went before him. So as he looked at Pieter, a man he once admired a little too much, he made a promise—one he would do anything to keep.

“No harm will come to your family. I promise.”

Pieter said nothing for a long moment. His mouth tilted down in doubt and his stance leaked suspicion. One hand lay around his throat where Inej’s knife had been. There was a very real fear lingering in the corners of his eyes and Kaz didn’t regret it. A healthy dose of fear was the easiest way for someone to accept the reality of their situation. Pieter needed to see that Kaz wasn’t going to mess with his life more than he needed to, but he needed to understand how much of a threat they really were. 

“And what of the farm?” Pieter asked. “What if your enemies find us through your ownership of the property?”

“No one outside of this conversation would ever link Kaz Brekker with Johannus Rietveld,” Kaz said. “I’ve made sure of it. I wouldn’t have come here to hide if I believed otherwise.”

Pieter stared them down, his face impassive. The silence hung heavily between them, but no one moved. After a few moments, Pieter seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and sighed. 

“I’ll keep my mouth shut and tell my family to do the same,” Pieter said. “I don’t trust you, but I trusted your father with my life. If anything, I owe it to him to help you, even if that just means turning a blind eye.”

Inej sighed in relief and Kaz nodded, his chest oddly tight. If Pieter was another pigeon or barrel rat, Kaz wouldn’t have trusted his word. Kaz may not like to break his promises, but a person’s word meant nothing in Ketterdam when things got dirty. But as Kaz was rapidly discovering, Pieter had the ability to make Kaz feel like a child again. A trusting, foolish, naive child. A child who sought for their parents approval and always tried to be honest and true. 

Something Kaz had not been for a very long time. 

Kaz nodded again, feeling like a broken record. He felt far too exposed for his liking and he was exhausted to his bones. He cast one look at Pieter before he turned back toward the house. He felt Inej follow in his shadow. Kaz didn’t make it far before Pieter spoke once more.

“Do you remember how a barn is built, Kaz?”

Kaz stopped. The question was so simple, so pointed. He looked back at Pieter. “Yes.”

Pieter hesitated, but when he spoke his voice was sure. “Even broken things can be rebuilt, Kaz.”

Kaz smiled in response and it lacked all warmth. “Some things aren’t meant to be put back together. Some things are beyond repair.”

Kaz caught Inej’s eye and saw her brow wrinkle in confusion and concern. She wouldn’t understand, but hopefully Pieter would. The Kaz Rietveld Pieter knew was gone. The dreams he had for his future were gone. Kaz had been forced to accept that a long time ago and now Pieter would too.

This time it was Pieter who nodded. He took a deep breath and rubbed his calloused hands together. “We better head back before the others start to worry.”

Pieter started walking, Kaz shared a look with Inej before they followed, and just like that, they headed back toward the house trying for all the world to pretend like nothing had happened.

Chapter Text

It had been an hour since Jesper left Ketterdam and he was grateful to see the skyline disappear beyond the horizon. Ever since Kaz’s “death,” the city was in an uproar. Half the Barrel celebrated Kaz’s demise and the other half scrambled over themselves to fill the spaces left behind. The streets were crawling with stadwatch trying to regain control of the Barrel, but as always, they were unsuccessful. Their presence, however, added to the chaos and uncertainty in the city.

Compared to the rest of the city, the Dregs were angry—very angry. They had their home and their leader taken from them in one fell swoop and they wanted revenge, just like Kaz and Inej had predicted. Anika had stepped up moments after Kaz was taken to the Reaper’s Barge and she was doing a remarkable job keeping the Dregs in one piece. So far, they had only lost minimal territory, all things considered, but Jesper knew Kaz would see it differently. 

Kaz. He was the reason Jesper was glad to see the city roll beyond the horizon. For as long as Jesper had haunted the streets of Ketterdam, Kaz had been there longer. He didn’t just haunt the streets, he was what the shadows were made of. In Jesper’s mind, Kaz made Ketterdam the city he knew. Without him, the city felt…wrong. It was just as dangerous and just as dirty, but something was missing. It was a gun with no bullets. A knife with no blade. A throne without a king. 

He was glad to leave, and he looked forward to seeing his friends again in one piece. The last time he’d seen Kaz, he looked dead, really dead. His pale skin was almost translucent and his body was limp and cold. Jesper knew it was all fake, but everything felt way too real. The grief of his fellow Dregs, the shock of the city, the scent of death that never left the harbor. It reminded him of that time by the Glencanal when they said goodbye to Nina in the boathouse. His father, Kuwei, Nina, and Matthias all lay next to each other like corpses. Except that time, one of them had been real. 

“What brings you to the country?”

Jesper glanced at the old man he sat next to. He was a simple tradesman, one of many who traveled to Ketterdam from different areas of Kerch. Jesper had paid him a year’s wages to get him to Lij quickly and discreetly. The old man was unassuming and simple, but he had a quick wit that Jesper appreciated. 

“Getting away from the city like most, I imagine,” Jesper said. 

The old man glanced at his clothes and Jesper tried not to fidget. The nice mercher clothes he’d worn since moving in with Wylan would have raised too many questions. Instead, he wore some of his old Barrel clothes, some of the less flashy ones. Pretending to be a lowly Barrel rat escaping the city made more sense than a rich mercher leaving via a wooden cart. But being a Barrel rat brought its own suspicions so he’d left his revolvers in the bag at his feet. He wished he was wearing his guns but again, it brought up too many questions. 

“Do you know someone from Lij?” the old man asked. 

“An old friend,” Jesper replied. “He moved out of the city a few years ago before things got really bad. He runs a farm out there now. He tried to get me to join him but I stayed in Ketterdam.”

“Smart man,” the old man said. “Your friend, not you.”

Jesper laughed. “You’re right.”

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence on Jepser’s end. The old man was content to talk to Jesper without needing a response, which was good for Jesper because his mind was preoccupied.

It had been a week since the Slat burned to the ground and they all split ways. As soon as they could, Wylan went to his father’s old estate in the countryside under the claim of visiting Alys. Jesper had risked staying in Ketterdam despite Ragnvald’s threat. As far as he knew, Ragnvald and his men believed that Kaz was dead. As for the man himself, Jesper had heard nothing from Kaz or Inej. He didn’t know if they were even still alive. Specht had somehow gotten a message to him under the dead of night that they had been dropped off in Lij safely, but that was six days ago.

But despite the unknown, Jesper was sticking to the plan. He was to meet Inej in Lij’s market today at four bells. They would then make their way to Rietveld’s farmhouse and Jesper would update Kaz on the situation in Ketterdam. Five days from now, Wylan would slip out of Alys’s home and join them in Lij. He too would bring updates on their situation given to him by Anika and Specht. From there, they would regroup and plan on how to tackle the situation. Jesper didn’t know how to stop this threat, but Kaz had done the impossible before so Jesper trusted him.

Just after three bells, Lij came into view. 

“Here we are.” The old man smiled. “Welcome to Lij.”

Lij was a breath of fresh air after the dirty musky streets of Ketterdam. The endless fields and small buildings reminded Jesper of his home in Novyi Zem. The familiarity brought him some comfort. They were not out of the woods yet, but maybe being out here would give them the break they all needed before it all got worse.

Jesper hopped off the carriage as they passed the village square. The old man drove off a little bit richer, singing a tune as if he’d driven from Ketterdam completely alone. 

Jesper turned toward the square and the adjacent market. For its small size, there was a good amount of people bustling around. Jesper walked into the market and looked at the many different goods that the local farmers and villagers had brought. He was early, but he knew Inej had to be around here somewhere. All he had to do was wait until she showed herself.

Fifteen minutes later and five minutes before the fourth bell chimed, Jesper sat down on a bench overlooking the market. People moved around him, and some waved in his direction, but most people walked past without another thought. Jesper leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath. He was tired from the long ride from Ketterdam. He still had a few minutes until Inej was supposed to find him. Maybe he could just close his eyes and—

“Don’t tell me you are about to fall asleep.”

Jesper jumped, his long limbs flailing around him. He turned to his right and sure enough, there sat Inej. As always, he didn’t even hear her approach.

“I was just closing my eyes,” Jesper defended. 

Inej smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

Jesper smiled back. “I almost got worried when I heard nothing from you.”

“Really?”

“But then I remembered that silence, in your case, is usually a good thing.”

Inej chuckled softly. “Let’s hope things remain silent.”

The two of them stood and began to make their way out of the market. Jesper had no idea where they were going so he followed Inej as she slipped between the small crowds—a feat significantly easier here than in Ketterdam. Inej stood out more than she usually did; her black leggings and loose shirt were far different from the muted colors and soft pastels of Lij’s residents. Jesper felt like a sore thumb in his Barrel clothes, but he was covered in dust from the wagon ride here so he hoped he didn’t stand out as much as he felt he did. Either way, Jesper felt the town’s attention on him and yet, no one seemed to give Inej a second glance. 

“How does she do that?” Jesper muttered not for the first time in his life. Honestly, he should stop being so surprised. 

It wasn’t long until they were alone on a small dirt road walking away from the heart of Lij. Jesper quickly donned his twin revolvers and immediately felt much more at ease. Now that they were alone and away from any unwanted eavesdroppers, Jesper turned to Inej. “How is Kaz?”

Inej sighed. She looked exhausted and Jesper didn’t blame her. A wounded Kaz was never a fun Kaz. “Physically, better. His burns are healing nicely. They’re going to scar…but that’s to be expected. They won’t restrict his range of motion, hopefully.”

Jesper nodded, swallowed, then asked the unspoken question. “And how is he doing, uh, not physically?”

Inej looked at Jesper. She would have to think he was an idiot to miss the change in Kaz after the Slat burnt down. He was there when they put him under to take him to the Reaper’s Barge. Jesper had never seen Kaz look so afraid of something before. He’d lost sleep thinking about it.

“He’s doing better,” Inej said softly. “Better than before.”

That was all she said and Jesper knew that was all he’d get out of her. Kaz was horrible at opening up, and Inej was just as bad when it came to Kaz. She had somehow gained the ability to share the same amount of information that Kaz would give about himself. Inej knew Kaz better than the rest of them, but she never gave anything away. Then again, she wasn’t Kaz’s wraith for nothing.

Jesper turned to the fields that surrounded them and took in the sight of the farms that dotted the landscape. He once again thought of his home and his father working in their jurda fields. This was the place he had pretended to be from all those years ago. Jesper had no idea why Kaz owned property out here in Lij, and he would probably never know why. He’d accepted that truth a long time ago.

Jesper didn’t notice Inej stopped walking until he noticed she was no longer by his side. He turned back around. 

“Inej?”

Inej stood a few feet behind him. Her head was bowed and she fiddled with one of her knives strapped to her thigh. Jesper could almost see the thoughts rolling around in her head. After a moment, she looked up at Jesper. 

“One of the neighbors knows who Kaz is.”

“What?”

“The father, Pieter, knows Kaz isn’t Johannus. The rest of the family believes the lie,” Inej explained. Her voice was firm and direct—commanding him to listen. “His daughter Britt is suspicious.”

“How did Kaz handle that?” Jesper asked. 

“Well, all things considered,” Inej said, beginning to walk again. “Kaz didn’t harm him.”

“Any threats?”

“I may or may not have held a knife to his throat.”

Jesper raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“It’s a long story,” Inej said, waving him off and Jesper knew that was all he’d get. “But Pieter won’t say anything to the stadwatch or anyone else. As long as Britt doesn’t figure out the truth, we shouldn’t have to worry about them.”

“So no breaking character around the neighbors?”

Inej smiled. “Time to put those acting skills to the test.”

“Acting is still not a Jesper talent.”

Inej rolled her eyes. “Do you at least remember our cover story?”

“Kaz is Johannus, not the infamous bastard of the Barrel,” Jesper said, ticking off points on his fingers. “You work with him in some capacity—”

“I help Kaz trade goods out of Ketterdam.”

“I am Kaz’s fellow mercher friend,” Jesper continued, ignoring Inej’s correction. “I came to Ketterdam from Novyi Zem a few years ago where I met my fellow business partner, the love of my life, and the apple of my eye—that’s Wylan, by the way.”

Inej huffed. 

“We all are friends with Kaz in one way or another and we definitely don’t get up to any illegal activity in the city,” Jesper said, twirling one of his guns around a finger. “We’re here on a holiday away from the crime-ridden streets of Ketterdam and thought a small farm in the middle of nowhere sounded like the perfect place to go.” 

“Exactly.”

Jesper nodded and straightened his hat. Inej laughed and the two fell into companionable silence. Jesper could tell Inej was worried and it worried him, but he didn’t want to add to her stress. Neighbors hadn’t been a part of their plan. Hopefully, it wouldn’t mess everything up. But knowing Kaz, he had a plan for this. Soon, they turned off the main dirt road toward a small farmhouse with an old barn behind it. 

“Here we are,” Inej said with a small smile. “Our home for hopefully not too long.”

Jesper didn’t know what he was expecting. Two years ago, Kaz revealed the existence of this place in their time of need. He had legitimate paperwork with a legitimate name and even the years behind the purchase to make the trick work. Jesper still wasn’t exactly sure how it all worked but it did. His father had pretended to be Johannus Rietveld, the man who owned this place. It was odd to finally see it. 

The fields around the house were flourishing and the animals looked well-fed. Someone was taking care of this place. But the house? It looked like no one had lived there for years. It was slowly falling into disrepair. The paint was sunbleached and peeling. The shutters were crooked or missing. And the roof had seen better days.

“Feels like we’re in the Slat again,” Jesper commented, eyeing the drying wood of the house with a little disdain. 

“It’s not the Van Eck Mansion, but I’d say it’s a step above the Slat,” Inej commented. “Fewer dirty people.”

“But more cows,” Jesper added, glancing at the grazing animals in a field adjacent to the house. “Who lives here normally?”

Inej looked back at him as she opened the door. “No one.”

Jesper followed her into the house. “If no one lives here then why—”

The question died in his throat at the sound of a woman’s voice somewhere in the house. Inej paused for only a moment before looking at Jesper. 

“It’s one of the neighbors, Maryse,” Inej said. “She’s Pieter’s wife.”

Jesper nodded, trying and failing to imagine what this Maryse would be doing in the house. As far as Jesper knew, Kaz was the only one here. Jesper followed Inej to the kitchen, not knowing exactly what he should expect. He shouldn’t ever expect anything when Kaz was concerned, Jesper realized as he peered into the kitchen’s doorway, Kaz was predictable until it mattered. He could never bet on what Kaz had up his sleeve. He’d lost money on it before. But what awaited him in the kitchen was beyond anything he could have dreamed up. 

Kaz Brekker was standing by a small island counter next to an older woman with graying brown hair, but Jesper almost didn’t recognize him. Instead of his typical suit and layers, Kaz was wearing a simple white button-up shirt with brown suspenders. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms and the thick bandages covering his right arm. But what surprised Jesper was the fact he was gloveless and cooking. Kaz Brekker was cooking. 

The woman, Maryse, was giving instructions to Kaz as he dutifully kneaded some dough. There was flour spread out across the counter and all over Kaz’s pale hands as he pressed the dough. Jesper wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw some of it in Kaz’s hair. 

Inej seemed surprised by the scene in front of them too, but she recovered much quicker than Jesper. With a finger, she tapped Jesper’s jaw and he quickly snapped his mouth shut, not realizing it had been hanging open. Inej turned back to the kitchen with a look of fondness that Jesper almost didn’t recognize on her face. With a friendly nudge from Inej, they both stepped inside. 

“Hello,” Inej said, as she walked toward the pair in the kitchen. Maryse glanced up in surprise but Kaz didn’t look surprised at all. If anything, he looked a little embarrassed once his eye landed on Jesper. 

“I come bringing friends,” Inej said, stepping toward Kaz’s side to allow Jesper to approach the island counter. “Or well, a friend.”

“Jesper Fahey,” Jesper said, holding a hand out to Maryse. She took it with a kind smile on her face.

“Maryse Visser,” she said. Her handshake was strong and her hands rough—a testament to the years she had worked on the farms around them. Jesper immediately thought of his father.

“How was the ride from Ketterdam?” Maryse asked. 

Jesper shot a glance at Kaz and Inej, but when their faces didn’t change, he answered. “Slow, but rather lovely. It’s a nice change of pace from the city. It reminds me of home.”

“Ah, are you also not from the city?” Maryse asked. 

Also? Jesper thought. What did she know about the rest of them? He really should have quizzed Inej a little more about their cover. “No, I’m a long-term visitor, you could say. I’m originally from Novyi Zem.”

Maryse’s eyes sparkled. “I’ve always wanted to go to Novyi Zem. Are calf and collard pies as good as they sound?”

Before he knew it, Jesper got swept up in a conversation with Maryse. She quizzed him about everything from his homeland from the way their money worked to the way they grew their jurda. Jesper didn’t have answers to all of her questions, but she didn’t seem to mind. She seemed to be happy hearing anything beyond the world of their little farm. Jesper knew the feeling. 

While he spoke with Maryse, Jesper watched Kaz and Inej out of the corner of his eye. Inej helped Kaz knead the dough and set it out to rise. They spoke softly about something Jesper couldn’t hear. There was something different between them. Something Jesper couldn’t place, but as he continued to watch them he realized the difference was Kaz. Kaz felt different. He was more…vulnerable than Jesper ever remembered seeing him. His gloves were off, his high-necked shirts and thick jackets were gone, and his cane was resting on the other side of the room. He didn’t look sad. He didn't look happy—Kaz never looked happy—instead, he looked a little lost. He looked like he was wounded on the inside and hadn’t figured out how to stop the bleeding. Like one wrong move would make everything come spilling out. 

He looked more lost than he had when Inej first left. 

Jesper remembered those weeks very clearly. Kaz had just won everything. He’d gotten the money from Van Eck; he’d driven out Rollins and his men.  He was the king of the Barrel. He had everything he’d ever wanted—his revenge, his money, his power. Everything except Inej. Now, Kaz never said anything because he was Kaz. But Jesper knew better. Jesper knew that Kaz bought Inej a boat. He knew Kaz brought her parents back. He knew Kaz had given Inej everything she’d ever wanted. And at that time, that meant he had to let her go; he had to say goodbye. 

When it all happened, Jesper wondered if Kaz was just impassively repaying Inej for her work, but when he saw him a few weeks later, the man was a mess. A very well-concealed mess, but a mess all the same. He wouldn’t stop working. He wasn’t eating. He wasn’t sleeping. He was not a fun person to be around. Jesper tried to reason with him, to get him to slow down and sleep, but he wouldn’t listen. It was as if he was unmoored and Jesper didn’t know how to help him. But then Inej’s letters came. 

Stop telling Kaz to eat and sleep. Inej had written in her letter to Jesper. No, Kaz didn’t tell me anything. I know you and I know him. Just be there for him. Don’t let him forget about you. You keep him more grounded than you realize.

Jesper was no longer actively running with the Dregs. He was with Wylan now, but he decided to still help Kaz despite Wylan’s reservations. He didn’t gamble, and he didn’t get mixed in with anything too illegal, but he was still Kaz’s right-hand man. Kaz had lost Inej and all the Dregs could feel her absence. It felt wrong to not help when he was still in the city. He owed Kaz too much. But after that first letter from Inej, Jesper tried to be more present and he began to notice a change in Kaz. Jesper didn’t know what Inej said in her letter, but whatever it was, it made Kaz stop trying to singlehandedly destroy himself. He accepted Jesper's help more readily. He began to take better care of himself. But he was also more open with Jesper. He let him in on more secrets. He gave away more snippets of himself. 

Jesper had felt like a bird feasting on breadcrumbs those few weeks after Inej’s letters arrived. For once in his life, he finally felt like Kaz was letting him in, really letting him in. He still had questions about the bastard, but Kaz was trying. He wasn’t as lost as he was when Inej first left.

That was almost two years ago now. Kaz’s relationship with Jesper and Wylan was a lot stronger than it had been after the Ice Court heist. Jesper knew him better than he did. He could tell that he had been a little lost then, but now…now it was something deeper. Something more integral. He wasn’t just floundering for a purpose. His life had turned upside down in a blink of an eye. Jesper would feel lost too if he was in his shoes. 

Eventually, Maryse stopped asking questions and left, giving Kaz a friendly squeeze on the arm that almost made Jesper fall over. Kaz smiled back at her, but his smile was a little tight. His hands, now back in his gloves, clenched into fists. When she had closed the front door, silence fell over the three friends in the kitchen. Jesper turned to Kaz. 

“You can cook? ” Jesper’s eyebrows disappeared under his hat he had yet to take off. He gestured to the rising bread dough. “Better yet, you can bake? ”

At least Kaz’s glare was still intact. The world hadn’t completely tilted off its axis. 

“You have some flour in your hair,” Inej said quietly, an equally quiet smile on her face. 

Kaz shook out his hair with a gloved hand before smoothing it back into place. He glanced at the dough before looking at Jesper. “What news from Ketterdam?”

Avoiding the question, I see. Jesper thought with a smirk. He leaned against the counter. “The city’s a mess. The Barrel is in an uproar with your death. No one seems to know quite what to do with themselves. As a result, Stadwatch are crawling the streets trying to suppress any gang activity—they don’t want anything else catching fire. But the Dregs are managing quite well all things considered. Anika’s doing a marvelous job. She isn’t you, but she’s keeping everyone together and has only lost minimal territory.”

“Define minimal,” Kaz said.

“Just some of Pekka’s old turf,” Jesper responded. “A few of those properties that have been giving you grief for months. Not a large loss, but nothing that can’t be easily gained back.”

Kaz nodded, his scheming face slipping into place. Jesper and Inej watched the cogs turning for a moment before Inej spoke. 

“And what of Ragnvald?”

“His ships left the docks, but have been seen sitting just off of the coast,” Jesper said. “He hasn’t hit the Dregs since the fire. He seems to be waiting for The Wraith, but your crew hasn’t been seen in a week.”

Inej nodded and folded her arms. “So everything seems to be going according to plan.”

“Seems being the keyword,” Kaz rasped, fiddling with the collar of his sweater. 

“How have things been here?” Jesper asked, eyeing his two friends. Inej and Kaz shared a look. 

“The neighbors were unexpected,” Inej said, a hint of dry amusement in her voice. “But other than that, rather boring actually.”

Kaz sighed. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Jesper snorted. Of course, Kaz would get bored on a farm. There were no pigeons to swindle or gangs to fight. But Jesper had a feeling they weren’t telling him something. Kaz’s words felt more like an admission than a complaint. 

“Feeling bored enough to bake?” Jesper teased, nodding toward the bread once again. 

Kaz scowled and pushed off the counter he was leaning on. “That was all Maryse. She believes I’m a simple merch with servants who feed me. Thought it would be good for me to learn a new skill.”

“She’s not that far off then,” Jesper said but Kaz ignored him. He instead grabbed his cane off the wall and limped out of the kitchen. Inej watched Kaz go before turning back to Jesper. 

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you your room.”

Jesper followed behind her resting his hands on the guns on his hips. He paused. “Wait. Do you think Maryse noticed my guns?”

Inej’s laugh followed her down the hall.