Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Inej had found Kaz to be the only person she couldn't sneak up on, even if she could still occasionally surprise him. That morning at Fifth Harbor, he’d set a new record for surprising her when he’d presented her with The Wraith, and her parents, and his bare hand to hold. Just when she thought she might be done, with him, or Ketterdam, or both, Kaz had given her multiple reasons to change her mind. And then he’d courteously met her parents. The reunion was joyous and miraculous at first. Mama and Papa had wanted to hug her, hold her, and not let her go. Her mother had touched her face, her hair, while her father had rubbed his hands on her back and shoulders. It was as if they needed to keep making sure she was real. At about the point Inej had started to get overwhelmed, Kaz cleared his throat. Then she’d made introductions. Kaz slipped into halting Ravkan to talk with her parents. At least that wasn’t a complete surprise. She’d known he could speak more of it than he’d previously let on to the other Crows, even if he wasn’t fluent.

Madhavi and Atima Ghafa only knew that this mysterious Mister Brekker had arranged for the King of Ravka to locate them, and paid for their voyage to Ketterdam. Inej found herself at a loss to describe who Kaz was to her, or even in general. How do I explain he’s a violent criminal mastermind? I don’t think Mama and Papa would understand Dirtyhands. She was astonished when Kaz shook hands, glove free, with her father. She noticed his tense posture, how quickly he pulled back, but she didn’t know if her parents had picked up on it. Then Kaz added to the surprises for the day by letting them all know he’d arranged a suite at the Geldrenner Hotel for the Ghafas. It was near enough to the Van Eck mansion, but didn’t rely on Wylan’s hospitality. And it gave Inej some breathing space. Kaz offered to hire a gondel for all of them to the Geldin district. The ride was full of her parents asking all sorts of questions about the city, most of which Inej fielded. Every so often, Kaz would put in a rasped answer. She didn’t know how to thank him, or explain that his continued presence meant the world to her. There weren’t enough words.

Kaz waited in the lobby while Inej helped get her parents checked in and settled in their suite. She was weirdly relieved to see it was not the same suite that Colm Fahey had stayed in. They agreed on brunch, Inej’s treat, and she had to promise them she’d meet them in the dining room of the hotel before they let her out of their sight. Both the hotel staff, and Kaz, looked nervous when she arrived back at the lobby. Some of the staff had recognized who he was. His bare hands were gripped so tight on his cane, his knuckles were white, the scar across one hand standing out. When she asked if he would stay for brunch, he nodded curtly in assent. Who is this strange, polite man in Kaz’s suit? He leaned in and murmured that it might be interesting to explain to her parents why the hotel staff were terrified of their benefactor. Inej whispered back that there were quite a few things that were going to be difficult to explain to her parents. And they would be doing none of that at brunch. Kaz had the hint of a grim smirk as he nodded again. 

They met her parents in the dining room of the hotel, and got seated by a pleasant young man who must not have recognized Kaz. Brunch was filled with amazing food, and amazingly uncomfortable questions. Half of the answers that Inej gave were that they would discuss the topic later in private. After a while, Kaz saved her again by interjecting with his own questions. It was like seeing the part of him that usually smooth talked pigeons, but it was far more genuine. Her parents seemed enthralled. She only had to help with translations a few times. He asked how their voyage had been, about the caravan, and how long they could stay in Ketterdam. ‘As long as Inej will have us.’ She began to realize that the difficult part of this reunion was just beginning. Not sure how long much longer Kaz would be willing or able to stay, she steeled herself for the explanations to come. As the table was cleared, Inej gave him an out.

In Kerch, she said, ‘Surely, you need to get back to the Barrel.’ He tilted his head, and replied in kind that he’d cleared his schedule till the afternoon. Then he offered, in Ravkan, to accompany them back to their suite, if the Ghafas would like that. He was just going to shock her thoroughly. Mama and Papa exchanged looks, and nodded to both Inej and Kaz. That was how she found herself in the sitting room of their suite, perched uneasily in one armchair, with Kaz in the other, and her parents in the loveseat. Her mother thanked Kaz again, profusely, for reuniting them with their meja. He minimized it, shrugging. Madhavi said it was like a birthday gift and a Sainted miracle all rolled into one. Atima patted her knee, nodding at Kaz, who was still trying to downplay their praise. Inej was just grateful to have a delay of their attention on her. Explaining the last few years was a dread weight, heavier by far than all of her knives put together.

Before the questions started again, it was her parents’ turn for surprising her. Apparently, they’d found out after the fact that there’d been a slaver raid. Another local child had been taken, a Ravkan boy. Her entire caravan had tried everything to get information on the slavers in Os Kervo, with little result. The Ravkan government at the time had been far too busy with war, and had too little interest in helping the Suli to begin with. They’d never stopped hoping, and had petitioned the Ravkan government multiple times for any information that may lead to locating Inej. Their petitions were part of why the King’s people had been able to find them so quickly. Arrangements for them to sail to Ketterdam had happened swiftly after that. The Ghafas had traveled without hesitation, in order to see their daughter again. 

Her Mama's question, in Suli, of ‘My daughter, was it very horrible, to be sold into slavery?’ nearly broke Inej. She tried, in stops and starts, to give them the basics. It was all too appalling to say out loud. Then Papa spoke up, and directed a question at Kaz. ‘What is your involvement, Mister Brekker?’ 

To his credit, and Inej’s chagrin, Kaz spoke the terrible truth. That he’d managed to purchase Inej’s indenture so she could work for the Dregs, and stop working at the Menagerie. He fielded questions from both of her parents then, his rough answers tight to the truth without revealing too much. Inej had worked as a spy, a thief, gathering intel. Yes, she’d done criminal things. But she’d gotten away from the abuse and degradation of the brothel. Kaz did elaborate in one area. That he found Inej to be strong, in mind, in body, and in her faith. Inej stared at him, incredulous. Who even is he right now? He’d apparently brushed up on his Ravkan in the last three weeks. Her Mama and Papa told him quietly that they were not surprised. That Inej had always been brave and strong, taking risks and making them worry. She loved her parents more fiercely in that moment than she could have explained. 

Atima looked at Kaz directly again, and repeated his question with an addition, ‘What is your involvement with our daughter?’ Kaz looked at the floor, then flicked a sideways glance to Inej. His tumbled stone answer was ‘You might ask her that.’ With that, Kaz stood, and said he needed to take his leave. Inej’s parents looked momentarily confused, but she sensed he’d reached his limit on socializing, and being more polite than she’d ever seen him be. He’d already given her far greater support than she would have suspected him capable of. Inej walked with him to the door of her parents’ suite. 

She glanced down at his bare hands gathered on his cane. Before she could figure out what to say, how to begin thanking him, Kaz reached up with his right hand. It hung in the air between them, like he wanted to touch her but couldn’t complete the motion. Inej held up her left hand, hovered it in the air a breath away from his. He sighed, his hand moving that hair closer to brush hers. First their palms touched, then their fingertips. The warmth of his hand, the softness of his skin, the shiver that ran through him, felt like something too intimate to share with her parents a room away. He ever so quietly wished her good luck with the rest of her afternoon. Then he withdrew his hand. His gloves were out of his trouser pockets with a blink of her eyes. And then he was gone.

Inej walked back to the sitting room in a bit of a daze. ‘Meja, is he really a criminal?’ ‘What is there between you?’ ‘Meja, are you really alright?’ The first answer was simple enough. The second was impossible. The last one was ‘Yes, because you are here with me now.’ Slowly, it got easier to answer their questions. Because her Mama had no pity in her eyes. Because her father had anger in his, but not for Inej. Because they spoke of how strong she must have been, to live through all of it. To still believe in their Saints. Inej told them of things that had made her strong. Her training as an acrobat, her faith, her will that her parents had never quashed. Kaz’s unwavering belief that she was dangerous. She showed them her knives. Her father examined their weight, rated which ones were best for throwing. Gently joked with her that she could throw knives with her cousin Kasim if she wanted to visit the caravan. Teach the younger cousins how to throw knives, even. Her father had taken the right tack, and she found herself smiling. Inej asked them plenty of questions, then, about her grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and everyone else.

They ordered a light afternoon meal to the suite. Inej asked the front desk if they could send a runner to the Van Eck mansion, so she could get word to Wylan and Jesper without leaving her parents. That was when she found out Kaz had arranged for the suite to be held for the Ghafas for as long as they wanted to stay, before he’d left the hotel. Saints, that Bastard is no end of surprises today. After they’d eaten, and Inej had heard more stories of their travels, the runner returned. Wylan and Jesper would love to have her parents come for dinner. She spent a bit of time explaining who Jes and Wy were, and where they would be going. It was far easier than explaining who Kaz was to her. 

Inej had forgotten to explain the hole in the dining room ceiling that hadn’t been fixed yet. Wylan jumped in with that answer, thankfully. Her parents had a wide eyed exchange in Suli about Kaz, which made Inej blush, and the boys look at her with confusion. They managed dinner conversation mostly in Ravkan, with her and Wylan translating for Jesper as needed. Jes managed to be as charming as possible with rather little Ravkan to his credit. She and Wy smoothly carried conversation across everyone at the table. Overall, she was grateful her parents were taking this whole adventure as well as they were. Though they did wrinkle their noses every so subtly at the lack of tea choices in the after dinner drinks. Inej figured she should take them to Little Ravka, and get some proper spiced tea for them.

Jesper and Wylan walked all of them back to the Geldrenner. Inej assured her parents she would be back the next day. And made them promise not to wander around the city alone. There was still some turmoil in the aftermath of the false plague and the Khergud attacks. Many hugs and pats later, she walked back to the mansion with the boys in a bit of a stupor. Glad of their presence, because her mind was swimming with everything that had happened, she thanked them. They were easy to give that gratitude to. Now I just have to figure out how to thank Kaz. 

When they got back to the mansion, Wylan slyly asked if she’d liked The Wraith . Kaz had mentioned buying it from him. And it had come up during dinner when she’d been trying to explain to her parents what her plans were. Jesper nearly fell over. ‘Kaz Brekker bought you a whole fucking warship?’ Yes, he had. And then she explained to the boys that he’d also arranged for the reunion with her parents. That he’d paid for their suite at the Geldrenner. Both of them were shocked. She didn’t tell them about holding his ungloved hand. That she kept to herself, wrapped up tight in her heart. By the time she crawled into her bed upstairs, she’d experienced so many surprises, shocks, and explanations that she was swiftly claimed by sleep.

Her parents stayed in Ketterdam for a bit over two weeks. She met with them almost every day, took them on tours through the city. They went to the tea shop Zavarka Yugu in Little Ravka, run by a jolly, long haired man named Ionnes. He stocked all sorts of foreign teas, including her favorite spiced tea, and greeted her parents in Suli. Inej took them to the University with Jesper and Wylan, and they marveled at the library. They went shopping in the Zelver district, where her Mama picked out a new dark purple scarf, and her Papa laughed at all the ‘stuffy’ suits. 

There were careful excursions into the Barrel. Inej curated her tours to make sure they didn’t see too much of the seedy underside, and avoid West Stave completely. She noted various Dregs’ presence wherever they went in the Barrel. Apparently, a certain Bastard had arranged for protection for the Ghafas. Her parents were fascinated by the revelry, the performers on the streets, the Komedie Brute costumes. 'There’s nothing like this in Ravka, meja.'  On a visit to the Slat, her parents asked her incredulously in Suli, if this is where she'd lived. And then they'd looked amazed when she said that Kaz had actually made it a nicer place to live. They had many dinners at the mansion. Jes and Wy entertained her parents, and they started calling the boys by their shortened names. 

Kaz joined them for lunch at the Geldrenner one afternoon, but kept his gloves on during the meal. This time, her parents clocked the nervousness of the waiter. Her Papa gave Kaz an appraising gaze. She figured he was wondering why this seemingly polite and beneficial criminal inspired such fear. If only you knew, Papa. What he’s done. What I've done. Inej had told them, in bits and pieces, about the horrors of the Menagerie. How she’d become a spider, then the Wraith. How she’d killed. What being in the Dregs was like. A fraction of what Kaz was like. But never all of it. She couldn't stomach every detail spilling from her mouth like bile. Her Mama had held her a few times when she’d cried. Her Papa had left the room to pace elsewhere in the suite. 'I'm not upset with you, meja. I am upset with the world. With the Saints. With my hands not being able to wring justice from everyone who harmed you.'  Madhavi would try to soothe both of them then. Her Mama had taken to asking Inej before brushing and braiding her hair. She’d realized Inej liked some warning before touch if possible, and so both of her parents were giving her a bit more space now. Before the lunch with Kaz, Mama had put her hair into a loose crown braid.

When Kaz had first walked into the Geldrenner dining room, he’d stopped and inhaled sharply. Inej found herself enjoying his dumbstruck expression. She’d never braided her hair softly like this. It was a braid that her mother and her aunts would have taught her as she matured towards adulthood. She’d lost out on a good chunk of that time among her people. Inej hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having someone else brush and braid her hair until her Mama’s hands were there. The first time Madhavi had brushed out her raven locks, commenting on how lovely her hair was, Inej had broken apart. Tears had flooded them both. Papa had come and wrapped them both up in his arms. 

Inej managed to steal a moment alone with Kaz after lunch, when they went up to her parents' suite. He took off one of his gloves, slowly swept an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, and told her she could stop saying thank you. She’d only said it ten or so times throughout lunch, in both Kerch and Ravkan. Kaz didn’t say anything about her hair, but the glint in his eyes as he touched it spoke volumes. ‘You owe me nothing,’ he insisted, with diffidence and an almost shy gleam in his eyes. She wanted to lean into his hand, but it was gone, and back in his glove all too soon. And then her parents came back into the sitting room. Madhavi noticed how close they stood, and lifted an eyebrow at Inej. After Kaz left, her Mama took her aside.

‘Do you like him, in that way, meja?’ Inej confessed that she did, but wasn’t sure if there was something possible there or not. She’d begun to think that there wasn’t, but the last week had changed that. Her mother astounded her. ‘He looks at you like you are the sun, when he thinks no one is noticing. Your Papa looks at me like that.’ Inej didn’t know what to say. Madhavi continued. ‘I can see it’s complicated. You are both young, but have lived very long lives in so few years. I think, though, you will figure it out in time.’ Then Mama wrapped her in a hug, petting her hair. And Inej melted into the embrace, and her mother’s sure wisdom. Atima came in then, and asked if he could join the ‘hugging party’. Laughter soothed and filled her heart.

Inej spent time in those two weeks meeting with Specht, and getting to know her new warship. She even gave her parents a tour of The Wraith , with her first mate’s assistance. Her parents had listened to her plans, her goal of hunting slavers. They were worried for her safety, but they’d also had a gleam of approval in their eyes. Specht was putting together a crew for her, and she met some of them while her parents were there. The grizzled man had some friends from the Kerch Navy, including one bear of a man named Kierik who Specht assured her would be an excellent second mate. A few Dregs were interested in coming. There were also some Ravkan former First Army who were willing to join the crew. Inej trusted Specht’s judgement, and confirmed his choices so far. The Wraith’s first voyage would be to Ravka; Inej wanted to personally escort her parents home. She also figured it would give her and the crew time to work together before they went on an inaugural hunt. Specht agreed, and his approval warmed her. 

One afternoon, ten days after her parents arrived in Ketterdam, she slipped into her usual window at the Slat. Kaz happened to be in the attic office, rather than the main floor one he'd taken over. He was working, wearing his usual suit and gloves, but stopped and stood when she came in. She was pleased to see he’d actually replaced the makeshift door on crates with an actual work table, and gotten a new desk chair. As well as a small, comfortable looking couch for one corner. He asked after her parents. Still surprising me, I see. She related the last few days worth of time with them, and visiting The Wraith . 

Kaz went to the safe, and then handed her a folder. It was full of intel on several slavers’ routes, names of ships, docks they frequented, details on Merchant Council members, and more. Surprised at the extent of the intel, Inej thanked him, and he shrugged again. ‘You know, there’s these two easy words, and I’m fairly certain they exist in Kerch.’ When Kaz lifted an eyebrow at her, his face amusingly filled with consternation, she deadpanned, ‘You’re welcome.’ He just shook his head, but she saw the ghost of a grin for a split second. She giggled. Inej wondered just what she’d need to do to make him grin full out for her. She found herself wondering a lot of things about him. Like how this polite man who refused to take credit for his deeds had sprung from the nasty, conniving boy she knew. Or how many looks she’d chalked up to appraisal of his investment were something else. Something like sun worship. 

She asked him if he would see her off at the docks, when The Wraith set sail. Kaz went still for a beat. If she didn’t know him, hadn’t studied him for years, she might not have caught it. When he answered, it was a quiet rumble. ‘I’ll try to be there. ’ Inej pondered his hesitance the entire way back to the Geldin district. She recalled the words she’d said to him once, in the bathroom at the Geldrenner. ‘It’s hard for me too.’ Her Mama was on the mark about it being complicated between her and Kaz. It was hard for both of them. They’d need time to figure out this dance. She needed time to explore herself outside the realm of what she’d become in Ketterdam. To figure out who she was now. Specht had called her Captain Ghafa, and it had sparked a new fire in her. To think that her dream of The Wraith was born in an incinerator shaft, and then fulfilled by the Bastard that had sent her up that same fiery climb was a whole host of absurdity. 

Inej spent the last few days shopping for supplies and clothes, sometimes with her parents, sometimes with Wy and Jes. Specht assured her he and Kierik had everything for the ship under control. She poured over the intel from Kaz, trying to figure out what their first target could be. He’d even included some information that might eventually lead to her finding the specific slavers that had kidnapped her. That target made her feel vengeful in a way that reminded her of how Kaz said Pekka Rollins’ name. 

Speaking of which… She’d tracked Rollins’ to his country estate nearly three weeks ago. Inej made arrangements for her parents to have dinner at the mansion, and for the boys to walk them home. Told all of them she had business to attend to outside of the city. And then she paid Pekka Rollins a visit in the middle of the night. It was incredibly easy to scare the man, and even more satisfying to wreak her own revenge on him. She’d been tempted to cut him in each of the places she had a new scar from Dunyasha, but the slash over his heart sent an even better message. The crow toy she’d left with young Alby had been icing on the terrifying cake. Inej wanted Pekka to run as far from Kerch as possible.

The early summer morning that The Wraith set sail, Kaz did indeed come to Fifth Harbor. He stood stiff as a pier post, grasping his cane tight, a bag in his other hand. His gloves appeared to be in his trouser pockets. Inej asked her parents to give her a moment alone with him before they rushed back off the The Wraith to thank him yet again. She easily moved from ship to dock, and met him at the back of Berth 22. Kaz held out the bag to her in a brusk gesture. 

“I never did thank you for my new hat. So… here,” he rasped.

Inej tilted her head. Does he mean the hat I got him before the Ice Court? She took the bag, letting her fingers brush his ever so lightly. His eyes flicked down to the contact even as she backed off. She smiled, and opened the bag to reveal a new leather captain’s tricorn hat. Her eyes went wide. It was lovely and practical, and it actually fit her head. He'd gotten better at knowing her size. She beamed at him. “Thank you, Kaz.”

Just for a second, she thought she saw the admiring look her mother had mentioned. Then he was nodding, his face closed up tight again. He damn near grimaced as he ground out, “You’re welcome... See, they do exist in Kerch.”

She threw her head back and laughed merrily. This time the sunstruck stare stayed a beat longer, and his face was transformed. Inej wanted to study it, memorize it, so she could bring it to mind forever. Then he glanced behind her as her parents approached.

“Mister Brekker,” Papa began in Ravkan, “We wanted to say thank you again. You cannot understand what you have done, in bringing us back together with our daughter.”

Mama added, “You have given us the greatest gift, and Inej is lucky to have you in her life.”

Kaz appeared like he’d just taken a blow to the face, but he managed to say quietly, in Ravkan, “You’re welcome.” 

Inej bit back the urge to point out he knew the words in at least two languages. She was also fighting off a blush at her Mama’s words. Madhavi wasn’t necessarily wrong, but Inej wasn’t sure she would have put it that way. Meanwhile, her Papa had held his hand out to Kaz. Who took her father’s hand in his bare one and shook it, his shoulders outlining tension. He did it, though.

“Come, Atima, let’s give them another moment.” 

Bless you, Mama. As her parents returned to The Wraith , she saw Jesper and Wylan coming up the quay behind Kaz. Damnit.  

“Kaz, I…”

“Will be safe, and fierce, and successful.” Both of his hands were gripped on his cane now.

Inej nodded. She wasn’t sure what she’d been about to say anyway. There was one thing she wanted to repeat though, before the boys got here. “I’m not done with Ketterdam,” and then she leaned in, and whispered, “Or you.”

She could hear pleased amusement in his quiet rumble, “Promise or threat, Wraith?”

“Bit of both.” As she stood back, she caught that glimmer of sun worship in his eyes. And then Jesper was coming around him to give her a hug. Kaz shot such a look at Jes, Inej was taken aback. Was Kaz Brekker jealous? Perhaps of something he hadn’t had the chance to do? Or couldn’t do? She knew he hadn’t entirely forgiven Jes yet either. Kaz stepped back, grabbing his gloves out and putting them on, juggling his cane to do so. Wylan joined his partner in hugging her. By the time she glanced up again, it was to see Kaz’s back, retreating down the quay. Damn.  

Wy and Jes complimented her hat, and walked her back to The Wraith . Her parents said goodbye to the boys, told them they could visit the caravan in Ravka if they wished. Inej promised them she would send letters back when she could. Wylan assured her that her suite in the mansion would always be here, waiting for her, whenever she was in Ketterdam. Jesper added, ‘And so will we, ‘Nej.’

Specht let her know everything was in order for them to be underway, including permission from the Harbor Master. They’d discussed that this first time, he would steer The Wraith out of Fifth Harbor, but he would be teaching her how to maneuver her new warship. She had a lot to learn about being the captain, and about life aboard. Captain Ghafa, she thought, adjusting her new hat. And then The Wraith was moving out into the open waters.

Chapter Text

Kaz couldn’t name a single moment that marked when Inej had inspired him to change. No, it was hundreds of moments. Glimpses of her in the sunlight, feeding her crows, her laugh striking straight to his soul. Under a black and starry sky, telling him she would have him without armor or not at all. In the Geldrenner bathroom when the water tried to take him, and her voice brought him out only for him to fall into a far deeper well. Times when she insisted he was better than he thought himself to be. Times when she was so pure, so good, despite everything he’d asked her to do as the Wraith. Every time she’d saved his life, had his back, and somehow seen him worthy of her trust. When earning her smile was better than all the kruge or revenge in the world. At Fifth Harbor, when she’d held his hand, and hope had laid roots into his heart like an invasive vine. The afternoon when he’d touched her hair, his breath stolen by her beauty. Inej told him he was the monster that Ketterdam needed, all while inspiring him to want something better. To be someone better.

The problem was that Kaz didn’t know how. He'd been driven by survival and vengeance for so long, he floundered a bit once the one had been achieved. No one noticed, except, perhaps, Inej. And she’d been scarce around the Barrel for the first three weeks after the auction. Pekka Rollins had left town. They’d gotten intel that he was holed up at his country estate. His businesses were in disarray, and the Dime Lions were in chaos. There were still ways to bring the skiv further down, but Kaz knew that the long term suffering he wanted for Rollins would take time. The King had fallen rather far already. And the Bastard of the Barrel had plenty of means to survive and thrive now. He was in charge of the Dregs. All of his bank accounts were flush. His reputation was approaching legendary status. There were clubs to run, pigeons to charm out of their kruge, and messes left to mop up. There was also one prime distraction that outweighed the rest. Maybe he should admit to himself Inej was more than a distraction. She was a reason to try for more than just revenge, do more than just survive. He just had to figure out what that looked like.

When he’d originally made the multi-faceted deal with Nikolai, having worked in the bonus of finding Inej’s parents had somewhat bewildered the fox-faced king. Kaz wouldn’t budge on it, and gave him all the details he had gleaned from Inej over the years about Madhavi and Atima Ghafa, their caravan, and more. His own luck in finding her parents had run dry, and he seized the opportunity to have the King of Ravka do it for him. At the time, he wouldn’t have been able to explain his motivations. He wasn’t a good man. But maybe, he could do good things for Inej. He’d also assured Nikolai he’d keep the secret of the Sturmhond identity. It was valuable to both of them for all sorts of reasons.

The King of Ravka was good to his word. Kaz got a letter with details about the whereabouts of the Ghafa caravan in under two weeks after the auction, and made the necessary arrangements. And he’d spoken with Specht at lengths about ships, swearing the Kerch man to secrecy about his questions. Wylan had also been willing to keep the secret of his purchase of the warship from Inej and Jesper alike. The merchling had gazed at him with something like approval. Kaz had shrugged it off. He spent three weeks busy with things in the Barrel, but also busied himself arranging things for Inej. It was fortuitous, that word from Ravka about the ship bearing the Ghafas arrived just as The Wraith was nearly ready for presenting. He much preferred when all the parts of a plan worked out in their timing.

Not entirely certain how Inej would handle all of his reveals, Kaz had spent the hours he should have been sleeping worrying over every last detail. Until they stood on the dock, and she was speechless about the gift of her warship. Until she wasn’t, and then, like always, she surprised him right back. Talking of taking down more than just slavers on the sea. She wanted his help in Ketterdam with her mission. Inej made an excellent point about how her goals could align with his. And then she reached for his hand. 

He’d taken off his gloves specifically to show her he was willing to try to shed some of his armor. It terrified him, that first brush of her pinky finger. But along with the terror, was a thrill better than any winning hand, any well done trick, any amount of jewels spilling through his fingers. He reached back. Kaz held her hand, and didn’t draw away or throw up or pass out. The waters threatened, and he concentrated on the warmth of her fingers laced through his. By some miracle, it worked. Maybe Inej was miraculous, all by herself. Holding her hand in the rising sunlight, he felt an unfamiliar optimism. Her hand kept him in the moment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he wanted more touch. When she asked him about crows, he explained why he’d been drawn to them. He didn’t mention how much he actually liked that she fed the crows on the roof at the Slat. Or that it had become one of the rituals he adored her for.

Kaz noted that the ship from Ravka was beginning to let passengers disembark; it was time for his next bit of conjuring. Inej let go of his hand to focus the long glass. He attempted to ignore the sudden absence of her warmth, how it left a chill in its wake. How could he miss something he’d barely been able to tolerate weeks ago? When Inej saw her parents, he managed to catch her as she swooned. That brief moment of her in his arms did something irrevocable to his heart. Kaz refrained from making any comments about falling or nets; he was too busy being astonished. Doubt crept in as she spoke, but Inej quickly made him believe he’d done the right thing. Even if his mouth got away from him for a moment. Talking about her corpse… You absolute podge.  

Her smile, her laugh, her joy overwhelmed him nearly as much as it pleased him. He wanted to make a decent first impression on her parents, and he found himself wondering what had come over him. Just don’t make a fool of yourself… As Kaz followed Inej, light on her feet as ever, he couldn’t help but be swept up by her mood. Her parents had eyes only for their daughter at first. All of the touch they imparted would have cast him straight into the Harbor, and when he saw the tightness of Inej’s posture, he intervened. The bare handshake Atima Ghafa offered almost did him in. Fortunately, his hand was as warm and alive as his daughter’s. All of the studying of Ravkan Kaz had stolen moments for over the last week paid off, as well.

When Inej invited him to brunch, his answer made her beam. As did his offer for a hired gondel. Kaz hadn’t thought his arranging the suite at the Geldrenner would be a shock, but apparently it was one that charmed Inej. It put her parents in a safe place he and Inej were familiar with, and put them close to the mansion and far from the Barrel. He’d reckoned she’d want a possible escape route if she got overwhelmed. During the meal, it seemed like she was close to that. He brought the attention off of her, asking her parents questions to distract them from badgering her. Then she gave him an excuse to leave, and he apparently boggled her mind by staying. Kaz decided that maybe he didn’t need to die to earn her smiles, maybe he just needed to do things that were out of the ordinary for him. He sat with her in the suite while she talked with her parents. Told them who he knew her to be when he saw how difficult it was for her to explain the last three years. He astounded himself by taking point in answering their questions for a bit, but it felt like Inej needed him to have her back. Isn’t that what they’d done for each other for so long?

Her parents surprised him in a few ways. They believed in her strength and her bravery as much as he did. He wasn’t entirely sure why he’d expected something different. It had been a long while since he’d experienced a parent's affection or support. Kaz’s memories of his own father were distant, locked into vaults deep in his head. His time spent surviving Ketterdam after Jordie’s death had necessitated abandoning or burying a lot of his former self. Da wouldn’t recognize who I’ve become. There hadn't been anyone to protect him, or believe in him, anyone he would let in close enough to do so, until Inej. Her parents hadn't judged her, like he knew she'd feared they would. Kaz had figured their Saints and their piety would have them thinking less of her. That, he wouldn't have been able to abide. Instead they were sad for her, outraged on her behalf. Most surprisingly, they seemed to have no fear of him at all. Granted, they were from Ravka, and didn’t know his reputation. Inej had neatly sidestepped the full explanation of exactly who he was when she’d introduced him. I suppose ‘Bastard of the Barrel’ wouldn’t have explained much even if she’d said it.

Kaz wasn't quite used to dealing with anyone asking him direct questions the way Atima Ghafa had. Even Jesper’s father Colm hadn’t managed to unnerve him in quite the same way. Kaz kept his answers as close to the truth, and as polite, as he could. ‘What is your involvement with our daughter?’  That one, he deferred back to Inej. He didn’t know how to answer it, not to her parents. Not in a way that made sense outside of his head. It barely made sense inside of his head, for that matter. 

What am I to her? No longer her boss, her lieutenant or leader. No longer an investor, no longer holding anything over her. He wanted her to be free. Kaz supposed he was her friend, but that word didn’t encompass nearly enough. Feeling like he’d cheated Inej into handling that entire query, he escaped. But not before offering her his bare hand one more time. Lightning and sentiment combined when their palms connected. The gentlest touch of her skin on his nearly unraveled him. It was staggering, especially with her parents so close. He fled, back into his gloves, and out into the streets. The entire morning felt like a dream of a life he didn’t have, hadn’t thought he could have. The hope growing in him wanted that dream. Not that he knew what he would do with it if he managed to steal it somehow.

By the time he returned to the Slat that afternoon, Kaz had tried to put his mind back in order. Attempted to put on the face of the Bastard everyone was afraid of. Rather than the polite, gentleman thief he’d tried being all morning. But he found himself giddy with the success of holding Inej’s hand. Her smiles. The reactions to the gift of her warship, and then to the reunion. He still wasn’t entirely certain what impression he’d made on her parents, but he figured he’d made a damned good one with Inej. In the main floor office, his attention kept sliding off of ledgers, and back to the question Atima had asked. ‘What is your involvement with our daughter?’ Kaz was staring at the ceiling, pondering just that, when Pim knocked. There was an issue with some kid they’d found on the street. Pim needs to learn how to deal with these minor things without asking me. There were still some growing pains in the Dregs, and he’d already contemplated naming more lieutenants besides Anika and Pim.

When Kaz got out into the main room, he was chagrined to find Pim had downplayed the situation by a large margin. Sitting in a chair, being held upright by Anika, was a young boy covered in raw burn scars and bruises, missing an eye, and looking to be on death’s doorstep. He couldn’t be older than thirteen or fourteen, with a wiry build, currently skin and bones. Anika glanced up, ‘We found him getting chased by some Razorgulls into our territory. He begged me to join the Dregs.’ 

Kaz scowled at his blonde lieutenant, and the sickly boy. ‘Are we taking in strays?’ The boy’s head lifted, and his blue-gray eye focused on Kaz. ‘Sir. I will do anything the Dregs ask of me. I have nowhere else to go.’ Something, some note of desperation mingled with absolute willpower, hit Kaz square in the gut. This broken kid had somehow survived in the Barrel this long. Pim motioned for them to take a step away. Kaz lifted an eyebrow, but moved back towards his office. In a low voice, his lieutenant informed him the boy’s parents, younger brother, and home had been taken out in the Khergud bombings over three weeks prior. He had no other family, and had been living on the streets since. The boy had been harassed and beaten by several of the other gangs. There’d been no Healers or Mediks available in the city because of Kaz’s orchestrated false plague, and it wasn’t like a homeless orphan had access to Healers anyway. Kaz knew that from personal experience. He gazed over at the boy again. 

‘If he lives through the night, figure out what jobs he’s capable of. But any cost for a Healer or Medik comes from you and Anika’s pay, until he starts earning his keep.’ Pim nodded, and Anika, who must have perked her ears up, smiled fiercely. Kaz scowled again. He didn’t need to get the reputation for taking in sickly, stray Barrel boys, did he? Even if he himself had once been a sickly, stray Barrel boy. The thought that Inej would approve of him taking this kid in made him turn towards his office before anyone could see the smile play out on his face. 

Anika was talking quietly to the boy now, and Kaz heard a wheezy ‘Thank you, Sir.’ from behind him. He turned back. ‘Boss. Or Mister Brekker. Not sir. What’s your name?’ The boy nodded limply, and replied, ‘Jeter Alberink, Si… Boss.’ Kaz exhaled loudly through his nose, and told Anika and Pim to get the boy something to eat. They could take care of their new stray. He had ledgers he was absolutely going to pay attention to waiting in his office. Plus he wanted to put in some orders for items to improve both his main floor and attic spaces. Haskall’s old desk chair was absolute murder on his back and his bad leg. 

The next day, Kaz set about gathering additional information for Inej. He’d already worked up some leads for her on slavers. That had started when he’d first asked Wylan about the warship. Now he expanded the net, to include intel on Merchant Council dealings that could be tied to slavers and illegal indentures. He had to use Roeder for some of it, which irked him, but he could hardly surprise the Wraith with intel she had to gather herself, now could he? Roeder was eager to prove himself anyway. 

As it turned out, so was Jeter. After a visit by the gang Medik, Lizabet, and a day's worth of good meals, the kid was already looking better. While she was there, Lizabet mentioned that Specht had invited her to join The Wraith’s crew. While Kaz would miss having a reliable Medik for the Dregs, he was happy that Inej would have one. Lizabet was skilled, and he knew she could defend herself as well. She’d survived as a neutral party in the Barrel for years, and would be an asset for The Wraith. Jeter, meanwhile, had offered to clean the kitchen, and anywhere else that needed it. Kaz smirked when Pim told him. It wasn’t like the Slat had seen much cleaning. Per Haskell hadn’t ever made that a priority. The Dregs were not used to such an idea. Kaz, on the other hand, decided it might be nice to have the rickety old building be tidier. He told Pim to let Jeter clean one room per day, as his health and recovery allowed.

For the span of the next two weeks, amongst his other business, Kaz let himself be engrossed with finding new ways to earn Inej’s smile. In his endeavors to prove himself, to figure out what his involvement with her was, he tried to be there for her. The Dregs got orders to watch over the Wraith and the Ghafas whenever they were in the Barrel, to keep them safe. He kept in touch with Specht on progress on the crew manifest for The Wraith, and put in some suggestions. Runners were sent to the Geldrenner Hotel on occasion to check in on the state of things. 

When Inej stopped by the Slat at one point with her parents in tow, the Ghafas were very curious about the dilapidated building she’d called a home of sorts. Kaz, suddenly self conscious about the condition of the Slat, was rather glad of Jeter’s efforts to clean things. He introduced Inej to Jeter with a brief explanation in Ravkan about taking the orphan in, that it had been Anika and Pim who found him. The one eyed kid was already healthier then when they’d found him, but he still looked pretty rough. Inej had gazed at Jeter and then at Kaz with an interesting gleam in her eye. Perhaps he’d been right about her approval. He tried not to take credit for it, but she knew Anika and Pim wouldn’t have done anything without asking him. Her parents had appeared a bit bewildered by the whole situation. Kaz heard her explaining to them as they left about how hard life could be in Ketterdam. 

Inej invited him to a lunch with her parents that weekend, so he showed up in his best suit. When he first entered the dining room at the Geldrenner, and caught sight of Inej, he swore his heart exploded and reformed in his chest. He’d never seen her look so soft, so lovely, and he was at a complete loss for a moment. Kaz had to shake himself to be able to sit down. He’d been overwhelmed enough that he kept his gloves on. During the meal, he fended off both gratitude and curious looks. The gratitude was hard to accept. It felt like obligation, like responsibility. Like people counting on him. Kaz was not used to that, or all the praise. Especially not from anyone as wholesome and genuinely good as Inej’s parents. 

He endured Madhavi's knowing glance when she caught him gazing at her daughter like a lovestruck idiot. 'Unable to explain' seemed to be his base state around Inej and her parents. Even as well as he was managing to converse in Ravkan. Why had he been studying the way the sunlight played on Inej through the windows? The way it lit her bronze skin. The way it gilded her intricately braided hair, making her look like a haloed Saint. The lively gleam in her eyes as she spoke with her father. He’d never seen her so happy. The feeling that her joy and beauty wrought on him must have escaped onto his face, with the way Madhavi Ghafa had appraised him. The woman was as observant as her daughter. Except the Wraith herself hadn’t noticed Kaz being an absolute podge.

In a moment alone in her parent’s suite, a dozen things to say occurred to him, but he couldn’t manage to voice any of them. He could have said how stunning the new braid looked on her, how beautiful she was, how amazing it was to see her happy. Instead, he told her she could stop thanking him. Because the gratitude from her made him feel a whole set of things he couldn’t name. Then he took off his glove and fixed an errant strand of her hair. That split second of silk against his bare fingertips had him dreaming of running his hands through her loose locks. Wrapping her braid over his bare hand. Her hair down, framing her face, spilling over him, brushing against his skin. Every time he closed his eyes for the next few days, he could see her in that crown braid in the sun, feel her hair in his fingers. He had to stop himself from fantasizing; he was entirely too distracted. There was intel to compile for Inej. Kaz had poked and prodded every source of information he had in Ketterdam and beyond, gathering what he could to assist Inej in her mission. He spent an afternoon organizing it all into a folder. Anything he could do to help her hunt successfully might mean she'd be safe. Or at least, safer. And then, just maybe, she’d come back to Ketterdam. To him.

For those two weeks, hope seemed possible. Kaz managed to touch Inej, spend time near her, and not run away. When she came to the Slat and slipped into his attic office window, it felt like old times. Except that it wasn’t. She was going to be leaving soon. Kaz presented her with his organized folder, like it was another gift. Like he didn’t want to get on his knees, bad leg be damned, and beg her to stay in Ketterdam. He wouldn’t; he’d done everything to give her the freedom she wanted, that she deserved. But the greedy, selfish part of him, that craved her, that wanted to keep her safe, desperately wanted to keep her close. 

Inej joked with him about the words ‘You’re welcome’ and his heart damn near vibrated out of his chest when she giggled. Then she asked him if he’d come to the docks to see her off. Several parts of him warred for a brief second. Security concerns said he should limit how much he was seen interacting with her and her ship. The scared boy who didn’t want her to leave couldn’t stand the thought of watching her sail off. The one who’d told her he would always come for her, always fight for her, that part said he needed to be there if she wanted him to be. So he told her he’d try. It was the best answer he could manage in that moment.

Kaz did come up with one last gift idea, preoccupied with Inej’s hair as he was. He visited his favorite milliners to find out if they worked in leather. The second did, and he commissioned a tricorn hat fit for a captain. He figured it was payback for the new hat he’d never actually thanked her for. Since there was so much gratitude going around. Her measurements were something he’d tried to learn and keep better track of over the years. Kaz arranged for the hat in weatherproof black leather, with a hat band in the dark teal that Inej’s favorite quilted vest was in. The milliner charged him extra for the rush job, which might have ordinarily made him gripe, but he had plenty of kruge now, and it was for Inej. Her reaction to the hat was worth it. It earned him another lovely smile. And when he grumbled out a ‘You’re welcome’, her laugh nearly undid all of his carefully held composure.

Still, he managed to be polite. To her, and her parents when they thanked him yet again. He shook Atima’s hand once more, even though it made the water smack at his shins. Madhavi’s comment about Inej being lucky to have him left him dumbstruck for a beat. He wasn't sure he'd call it luck. Maybe they hadn't listened to all the danger he'd put Inej in. All the things she’d done under his orders. When the Ghafas headed back towards her ship, Inej told him she wasn’t done with him yet. His heart did somersaults in his chest. Kaz managed to not murder Jesper when the damn lanky idiot interrupted their farewell. It wasn’t like he’d known exactly how to say goodbye, or what to do. If he should offer her his hands again. Or a kiss. Kaz had fantasized about that too, but wasn’t sure he could pull that off. If she’d want that. Or if she’d kiss him back, and overwhelm him. He definitely didn't want to pass out in public. Before he could make a fool of himself, Jes and Wylan had taken over Inej’s attention. Maybe that was for the best. He escaped again, thinking himself a coward for not staying. For not braving a better goodbye.

Inej sailed off on her first mission on The Wraith , and he felt unmoored. Kaz’s routine with her had already been changed irrevocably by the events of that spring, and the ensuing aftermath. He was a creature of habit, and he hadn't realized how many of his habits revolved around Inej until she was no longer coming through his window on a regular basis. Until she was gone from Ketterdam entirely. Learning new habits was possible, but he was a moon without a sun. 

Once she set sail, he poured himself into building up his empire while tearing down every last piece of Pekka Rollins’ world. The Merchant Council were busy figuring out their own messes for a bit, and had seemingly ignored Kaz’s part in the auction debacle. He figured it was because they didn’t want to admit a Barrel rat had shown them up in their own house. There were parleys and negotiations to handle, and Anika and Pim stepped up rather well into their new roles. They brought in younger recruits, stole defectors from other gangs. The Dregs grew in numbers and strength, and absorbed the two smallest gangs of the Barrel with a minimum of fuss and bloodshed. 

There was plenty to do, to occupy his mind and his body, but he still found himself expecting Inej to come through his window. Kaz started feeding her crows on his roof, as a way to have a reminder of her, of one part of their routine. Of one of the first moments he’d realized she’d stolen into his heart better than any of his defenses could prevent. Crows remember. He settled various business and property management things that needed immediate attention. Like the transfer of a certain farm near Lij to a new pair of aliases. And working to obtain several ‘plague’ hit properties at rock bottom prices. He tried valiantly not to fret about Inej and the security of The Wraith . The first few weeks were the worst. Until he heard from her, got her first letter, and knew she was safe. Only then did some small part of him relax. Kaz concentrated on being the Bastard of the Barrel that Ketterdam expected him to be. Even if internally, he was pondering what else was possible.

Chapter Text

Inej spent part of her first voyage as Captain Ghafa keeping her parents out from underfoot of her new crew. They were too used to pitching in with anything the caravan needed, and though neither had experience aboard a sailing vessel, they wanted to be helpful. Specht rolled his eyes, asking them with exasperation to let the crew do their jobs. Kierik proved his worth as a second mate, and manager of people, when he stepped in. He recruited the Ghafas to help in the galley, where they taught the cook, Tafa, to make some Suli dishes. It made them feel useful. Plus Inej and the crew got to enjoy more entertaining meals. Tafa learned how to make perfect skillet bread in a matter of days. 

As she began to learn the dynamics of her crew, and many of the tasks required of the captain, Inej noted how this new path differed from the old one. Some parts used similar skill sets. Climbing the rigging came easily to her, and gave her joy. Her rubber soled shoes proved rather useful there. She was glad of the calluses already on her hands, though she quickly developed new ones. Handling the sails was more complex than she’d thought. Steering seemed easy enough in open water, but Specht was drilling her so that she’d be able to maneuver into ports and during battle. Kierik took the time to teach her knots, nautical terminology, and so much information about navigation her head swam. Meyer and Alfie, more Navy friends of Specht, taught her enough about cannons to be competent in their firing and strategic use. Inej was incredibly grateful to all of the former Kerch Navy men. 

Her crew learned her too. That she could move silently and spook them, but that she far preferred not to be snuck up on. That her personal space was important to her. Some already knew this, some discovered she was quick to go for a knife. As they all meshed together as a unit, Inej was more comfortable on board. By the time they approached Os Kervo, she felt prepared to take The Wraith into port. She managed to dock smoothly, earning a gruff ‘Well done, Captain.’ from Specht.

Leaving her warship in her crew’s capable hands, she accompanied her parents inland. Kierik would ensure the ship was resupplied, and Tafa requested some additional ingredients to be able to prepare Suli dishes better. Inej decided then that their cook was worth his weight in kruge. Her family’s caravan had been sent word shortly after her parents arrived in Ketterdam, to make their way towards Os Kervo. Inej and her parents only had to travel a day and a half east before they met up with the caravan. Inej braced herself for a barrage of questions. She was greeted with cheers, gentle hugs, and teary eyed offers to braid her hair. The questions were not nearly as invasive as she thought they’d be. She later found out that Madhavi had written a carefully crafted letter, informing the closest family that Inej had been through a lot, and might not want to talk openly about it. Bless Mama’s sneakiness. 

For the span of a week, Inej was a celebrated guest. The cousins she’d been close to gathered around her, telling her of their news. Hanzi and Asha were now the premiere act on the wire. Jasna was already married and was expecting her first child. Kasim had a knife throwing act, and wanted to compare skills. They taught each other a few tricks. The children of the caravan had a million questions about Ketterdam, Inej’s adventures, her warship, and her knives. She let her grandmother Sana and aunts Samira and Jela braid her hair. Inej learned half a dozen new braids, and was gifted hair oils, barrettes, and brushes. Everyone decided they would cram three years of missed experiences into this one week. By the time Inej crawled into bed in her parent’s vagon each night, she was heart full and bone tired. Being fussed over was lovely and quite overwhelming. 

One night, she snuck away and scaled a nearby tree to find some solitude. That wasn’t something in great supply within the caravan. Her Papa found her after an hour. ‘Meja, are you alright?’ Inej assured him that she was, that she’d just needed to be alone for a while. He asked then if it had been long enough, and if he could join her. Laughing, she invited him up. She knew Atima was still quite spry. When he was sitting in a branch across from her, his next question startled her. ‘Did you miss the way the stars look here?’ Inej gazed up at the night sky through the branches. Out in the open parts of Ravka, where the caravans often were, the sky was an endless field of stars. Not like Ketterdam, with its rooflines and smoke. She’d missed the stars, but she hadn’t thought of it in so long. The skies on the True Sea were also full of stars, but it was different on the water. Sitting here, with her Papa under the night sky, she felt something unlock inside of her. 

The Suli didn’t generally call any one place home. Your people, your family, your loves, that was home. Ravka itself hadn’t been home, but as tears slid down her face, Inej realized she’d come home again. She had thought it was impossible. ‘I missed this, Papa, I missed all of you. And I missed the stars.’ They chatted in the tree for a while. Something about looking up inspired Inej to tell her father about the incinerator shaft in Fjerda. She wasn’t sure why, but it was suddenly important to explain where her dream for The Wraith had started. The trial of heat that she’d endured. Atima listened intently. When she finished, he repeated something he’d said back at the Geldrenner. ‘I never doubted you were brave, meja. You never wanted to use the net.’ They climbed down and returned to the caravan, and the revelry around the central fire.

Inej’s departure was tearful, mostly on the part of the aunties. Her grandparents pressed Saints’ blessing tokens into her hands, one by one. Kasim handed her some sharpened throwing knives, asking her to place them into slavers. Mama and Papa held her together, told her she needed to write them, where to send letters at various times of year so they could retrieve them. They made her promise to visit, to bring Jesper and Wylan and Kaz. The thought of Kaz visiting the caravan made her throw back her head and laugh. Her parents grinned; perhaps they’d understood why she’d been so amused. They didn't make her promise to be safe. Perhaps they also knew their daughter, who worked without a net, and who they’d never doubted. Inej left with a heart overflowing. As well as saddlebags overflowing on a horse she would ride back to Os Kervo. Spiced tea, the gifts for her hair, herbs and spices for Tafa, one of Mama’s silk scarves, one of Papa’s hankerchiefs. And a handful of knives, because her people hated the slavers as much as she did.

When Inej got back to The Wraith, they were ready to set sail. Specht had confirmed some of the intel from Kaz, and they had a target. There was a slaver ship operating off the coast of Ravka that often went after the Suli caravans, and any Grisha they could snatch up. She wasn’t sure if The Branka was the ship that had taken her or not, but they’d soon find out. Inej confidently took the wheel to take her warship into the True Sea for their first hunt. For a few days, they slowly hugged the coast line, looking for signs of their quarry. Specht and Kierik drilled the fighting members of the crew, and went over procedures for attacking another vessel on the open water. Days turned into a week. Inej and the crew were restless, itching for action. It turned out hunting another ship was also about waiting and patience. They were up by Arkesk when Specht handed Inej a long glass to take a closer look at the ship on the horizon. She could just make out The Branka’s name emblazoned on the side in red lettering.

The action was afoot, and things moved fast then. Inej let Specht handle a great deal of the commands, studying how he went about it. She found herself wondering if this was what Jesper felt like in a gunfight. It was unlike being a spider, and there were no rooftops for her to escape to, no dark alleys to duck in. Her body thrummed with adrenaline. Inej sent up prayers to the Saints, for her crew and herself. And then they engaged. The Branka was ill-prepared for the sleek movement of The Wraith, or her guns. Slaver ships, especially off the coast of Ravka, weren’t used to much in the way of opposition. Specht and Kierik’s drilling did its job, and her crew moved fairly well together as a team. Quiet Kierik surprised her by giving an insanely loud war cry as he swung an axe the size of her torso. It served as both an auditory distraction and intimidation. There were a few injuries, but no fatalities for Inej’s people. The crew of The Branka fared less well. It turned out that a crew of thieves and former military on a mission to end slavers fought with a bloodthirsty zeal.

The ferocity of their opening attack had most of the crew of The Branka ready to surrender. Their captain was hauled before Inej, and Kierik cracked him behind the thighs with the top of his axe, forcing him to kneel. In that moment, Inej felt a primal energy take hold of her. Their captain didn’t look familiar, but she was going to question him all the same. He glanced her up and down, and smirked. That’s your first mistake. Inej drew Sankt Petyr, and held it to the captain’s throat. The smirk died. In Ravkan, she grilled him about his crew, his routes, how long The Branka had been operating. His answers were more forthcoming once she’d nicked his throat twice. Inej learned enough to know this wasn’t the ship that had taken her. She’d question the rest of their surviving crew later. Giving Specht orders to guard all of the prisoners, she personally went down to the hold of the slaver ship to see if there were any captives. 

Inej experienced an anxious flashback to her own captivity when she spied three young Suli girls in chains in a cell. They were sobbing, begging her in Suli to free them. She had to catch her breath, get her racing heart to calm. Keys, I have to find the keys. A voice speaking calmly in Ravkan broke into her panic. ‘I can help if you free me.’ There was a Grisha man in another cell, his arms in a spreader bar to keep his hands apart. He was in a dirty red kefta, with the embroidery of a Heartrender. She wasn’t sure if he meant he could help her personally, or help her with the girls, but either way, she needed keys. Kaz had taught her to pick locks, but she’d never mastered it with his perfection, and keys would be faster. Besides, she didn’t have lock picks on her. If only her heart would stop trying to escape her chest. There! She spied a ring of keys by the ladder she’d descended. Inej figured if she freed the Heartrender first, he could check over the girls, calm them down. She quickly told the girls she’d get them out soon, and then talked to the Grisha as she moved to his cell. His name was Grigori, and he readily agreed as she unlocked his cuffs. He made no comment about her shaky fingers. As soon as his hands were free, he started working, and Inej could feel herself grow calmer. The three girls did as well. Grigori gently took the keys from Inej, and unlocked the girls' chains. 

Once they were loose, the girls huddled close to Inej. None of them could be older than twelve. Grigori spoke quietly, telling her he’d been taken a week ago, and only one of the girls had been here. The other two were more recent additions. The captain had let the crew torment all three. Inej felt an incandescent rage building. If they’d found The Branka sooner, maybe these girls might never have known this horror. Thinking like that won’t help. We’ve found them now. We’ll get them back to their people. But that rage needed a place to go. And she knew where. A certain smirking captain was going to have another conversation with Captain Ghafa. And her knives. She asked Grigori if he could assist her with questioning The Branka’s crew. The Heartrender agreed with a dark smile. They helped the girls up the ladder, and she called over to The Wraith for their Medik. Lizabet would check over the girls and take care of them. Inej explained in Suli what was happening, that they could trust this nice, gray haired, tattooed woman. They were safe now, and they’d be home with their people soon.

Inej waited until the girls were on The Wraith before she had Specht and Kierik haul the captain up to her and Grigori. For a moment, she was tempted to let the Heartrender torture the man, but that didn’t sit right with her conscience. No, this was between her and this slaver, and her Saints could judge her as they would. She did ask Grigori to let her know when the captain was telling her the truth. Sankt Petyr in one hand, and one of Kasim’s knives in the other, Inej let the rage that had been reignited in the hold of The Branka loose. It sparked with a fourteen year old girl, snatched from her caravan. It roared for the year she’d spent in the Menagerie. It burned down her arms, and her knives were flames that snatched the slaver captain’s answers from him in pained gasps. Her crew observed their new captain, some with admiration, some with shock. The crew of The Branka watched with fear. Inej continued until each blade was slick with blood, until she’d gotten the information she needed. Until some part of her mind said, ‘Stop. This is enough.’

She had Kierik check if The Branka had a Medik or Healer. That was when they discovered there was an older Grisha Healer locked in a small cabin. Irena had been held captive for over a year. Inej had intended to have the captain seen to, but she wasn’t about to ask Irena to do it. Grigori and the older woman embraced and talked quietly; they’d known each other back in the Little Palace before the civil war. The Heartrender turned to Inej and said he’d stop the bleeding so the captain didn’t die, so he’d see justice in Ravka. She agreed, then turned her attention to the rest of the slavers. ‘You will tell my people the truth, and answer every single one of their questions. Or you’ll follow your captain’s fate.’ With that, Inej left the rest of the questioning to Specht, Kierik, and Grigori. Her first mate knew the intel she was after. She helped Irena over to The Wraith, delivering the shaken woman to Lizabet in the sick bay. And then she went to her cabin.

Once Inej closed the door, the tears came unbidden. All my Saints, what did I just do? She’d watched Dirtyhands pull information out of people, and her hands suddenly felt more sullied than his. The rage and the adrenaline were gone. She had answers, on where The Branka had been, where the girls were from. What other slavers operated in this area. The name of a ship that had been actively taking Suli children from Ravka three years ago. The Vitomir. But Inej felt hollow, raw, and found she was shaking as she washed the blood from her fingers. Good thing the crew isn’t seeing this. When her hands were visibly clean, she checked the knives, even though she’d cleaned them on the captain’s own coat before sheathing them. Kneeling next to her bed, she prayed to the Saints. For forgiveness. For guidance. For a sign that this path was indeed the right one. A knock at her door broke into her prayers.

Lizabet had a report. The Suli girls were alright physically. They’d been taunted, struck, groped, but nothing further. Irena was far worse off, but had been healing herself whenever the crew left her alone. Both Lizabet and Irena planned to help the girls as best they could until they could be returned to their people. Inej felt a small bit of peace that there was some good news. She went and checked in with the girls. They surrounded her, hugging her waist. Inej fought back tears all while she assured them it was going to be okay. Irena watched with sadness. The Grisha Healer told Inej that the slavers had taken other Suli children the previous fall, and she didn’t know where they’d been sold. Inej promised that everyone on The Branka would be brought to Os Kervo and delivered to the authorities. She knew that two Grisha prisoners would mean far more to the Ravkan courts than any number of Suli children, and it gnawed at her. Ravka was in turmoil, and needed all the Grisha it could keep its hands on. The Suli were unimportant.

Specht, Kierik, and Grigori delivered results. They’d discovered two of The Branka’s crew had served on The Vitomir briefly. The details those crew members coughed up pointed to The Vitomir as the ship that had taken Inej. They’d also gotten intel on the last three deliveries of ‘indentures’ The Branka had made. Two had been to Ketterdam. One to the Southern Colonies. After she thanked Grigori for his help, he went to see Irena. As night approached, Inej, Specht and Kierik discussed how to get The Wraith and The Branka back to Os Kervo, splitting their crew to sail both ships down the coast together. They could get a bounty for the salvage of the ship itself. The prisoners would stay secured on their ship, chained in the slave cells, on reduced rations. It was late, so Inej asked Specht if he thought they should rest through the night before moving on. His hands, which had been busy with a carving knife and a block of wood, stilled as he studied her for a moment. ‘I think that’d be a wise captain’s decision, yes.’ With gratitude for Specht and a certain Bastard, Inej thought, Kaz picked me an excellent first mate.

Kierik and Alfie took charge of The Branka. All went smoothly with their dual voyage, until a summer storm that forced them to shelter in a cove near Udova. Inej listened to the storm howl outside. Her heart had been heavy the first night, but as she watched the three young girls begin to appear at ease, she felt the weight lift somewhat. The next day dawned clear, and a small party accompanied Inej and two of the girls to the coast. They were close enough to where two of the girls had been taken. Inej climbed high up into an oak tree, and used a long glass to look for signs of a caravan. To the southeast, she saw evidence of camp smoke. They traveled towards it, and every few miles, Inej would climb. When she could make out the caravan, she tried signaling with a hand mirror. It took one more short hike before someone in the caravan saw her signals, and returned one. The riders who galloped up to them had recognized the patterns Inej used. ‘Reunion.’ ‘Daughters.’ ‘Please come.’

The two girls raced to their fathers and uncles who’d ridden out. Inej and the crew members with her had tears in their eyes as they watched the reunion. They were invited to the caravan, gratitude overflowing. She told the adults, with regret, that she and her crew had another daughter to return, and slavers to deliver to justice. The fathers asked her what her name was. Before Inej could answer, the two girls told them. ‘That is Captain Ghafa.’ ‘She is the Wraith.’ The Saints had given her the first sign. Inej’s soul felt full and yet lighter than silk. Before she turned to head back to the coast, the girls ran back to her, hugging her once more. ‘Go and be home, little ones.’

As they returned to The Wraith, a few of her crew asked to learn the mirror signals she’d used. It could prove useful when manning two ships in tandem down the coast. Inej agreed to teach them. The rest of her crew was in a celebratory mood when they learned that the two girls had been successfully reunited with their families. It made the rest of their voyage down the coast a somewhat joyous occasion. Inej couldn't join them fully. Not until the last girl was returned. Not until the slavers were in Ravkan irons. When they reached Os Kervo, Inej had Specht, Kierik, and Grigori handle dealing with the Ravkan authorities. She knew the Kerch men and the Grisha would get a better reception than a tiny Suli teenager, especially one who might not be able to handle her rage at their disregard for the Suli prisoners. Instead, she took a few crew members with her north in search of the last girl’s family. Inej’s uncles had mentioned another caravan near the ruins of Novo-Kribirsk. Once they’d crossed the Vy, Inej took to climbing, scanning for smoke in the distance. It took two days travel to locate the last girl’s caravan. Inej used mirror signals again, this time teaching the technique and patterns. She and her crew approached the camp, with the young girl holding hands with Inej. 

Their reception was a bit cooler at first. None of the crew with her was Suli, and they learned later that this caravan had lost other children to slavers. They were suspicious of outsiders. The girl let go of Inej and ran to her parents, explaining who the ‘Sainted Suli woman’ was. The entire attitude of the caravan changed. She and her crew were invited to the evening meal, and to camp with the caravan for the night. Inej spoke with many of the adults, explained what her mission was. She learned that The Branka might have well taken others from this caravan. Knowing she could make no solid promises, she still vowed to attempt to track their missing ones. They enjoyed a hearty meal that night. Seeing the last young girl hugged and held by all of her family in turn was gratifying. A few came to Inej, pressing Saints’ blessing tokens into her hands, thanking her with glistening eyes. ‘May we tell of you, Captain Ghafa?’ Inej could only say yes. This was another sign.

Upon their return to Os Kervo, Inej learned that there had been a bounty out for the captain and crew of The Branka . Ravkan forces had no time to spare for hunting slavers with war threatening at each border, and the bounty was meager, given the country’s financial woes, but it was money all the same. They got more for the salvage of the slaver ship. ‘Split it all between all of the crew.’ she told Specht. She didn’t need a cut for herself. The Branka’s captain and crew were in the local jail, and Grigori and Irena would testify against them. The Heartrender assured her he would see their justice through. ‘After what they did to those girls in front of me, and what they did to Irena… they’re lucky I didn’t just end them when I had the chance.’ Inej thanked him for his fervor. The Wraith was resupplied, and ready to set out again. Before they left Os Kervo, she sent coded letters off to Kaz, Jes and Wy, and her parents. Letting them know in short phrases that she was safe, their first hunt had been a success, and they’d be out on the True Sea for a second hunt.

Knowing they needed more information before they could go after The Vitomir, Inej decided to hunt another of the targets that Kaz had provided intel on. They sailed south, towards the Obol River delta, where it was rumored another slaver ship liked to take shelter in a hidden cove. Specht and Kierik took her aside one evening, and gave her a private mixture of debriefing and reprimand. They went over what had gone right on the first hunt, and what could have gone wrong. Going to the hold on her own, without having it searched thoroughly first. Releasing the Heartrender alone without confirming he was actually an ally. They’d learned from Grigori that she’d panicked a bit during her flashback. Inej was mortified. They did praise her too, which didn’t help the heat of her cheeks, but did soothe her self esteem. Kierik added gently, ‘Captain, we want you to stay alive and well, and not just because Brekker would skin us if we came back without you.’ That startled a laugh out of her. Mostly because it was true. Inej thanked them for their criticism, advice, and praise, and told them she always wanted the truth from them. It would make her a better captain. She knew there was still a lot for her to learn. The crew had been impressed by her handling of the slaver captain, how fierce she was. Inej was still trying to balance that fierceness with her faith. 

The Wraith’s second hunt saw Inej learning more, about what could go wrong, and about herself. They lost a crew member to a slaver’s bullet. That ship’s captain had let his crew rape their captives, as well as doing so himself, and Inej found no mercy within herself that day. She sent a prayer to her Saints for forgiveness, even as she sunk one of Kasim’s knives into the captain’s femoral artery. The captives were all Grisha. Had there been Suli children, Inej wasn’t sure she would have been able to let any of the assailants live. Specht and Kierik grilled the slavers for intel, on other ships, and on The Vitomir. Her crew mourned their fallen comrade, and Inej experienced her first burial at sea. The remaining slaver crew was delivered to Os Kervo in chains, with angry Grisha ready to testify, and ready to say the captain had fallen in the battle to take the ship. Inej found herself less happy with this victory. Not only because one of her crew had fallen, but because she had given in fully to the rage. As they sailed back to Ketterdam for some rest and supplies, she found herself praying for council. It came from an unexpected source.

Their Medik knocked on Inej’s door one night. Lizabet was Kerch, and had survived in Ketterdam for a long time, serving as a Medik for the various gangs. She’d generally stayed neutral, which was no easy feat in the Barrel. Inej figured the woman was of the typical Kerch philosophy of profit and gain over all else. Lizabet surprised her by asking if she wanted company for prayer. ‘You’ve seemed troubled, like your soul is heavy.’ Inej sat on her bed, staring into Lizabet’s keen hazel eyes. She asked the Medik if she followed the Saints. The reply was that she believed in a lot of things, and the Saints seemed as likely as Ghezen or Djel. Lizabet pointed out that she’d actually been named for Sankta Lizabeta. She asked Inej gently then, ‘And your name, doesn’t it mean ‘faithful one’?’ It did. ‘Is your faith not providing comfort?’ It wasn’t. 

‘I think the Saints see you, see your mission. Remember that the Saints all started as human as us. I think they understand that you’re still figuring out your path.’ Inej nodded, finding the prickle of tears and a sureness come over her. She was still finding her way. But she knew she was headed in the right direction. Lizabet, who’d treated the injured Grisha captives, added, ‘And Captain? Some slavers don’t deserve mercy. Even the Saints know that.’ Inej found herself with a grim smile. Perhaps the Saints knew Inej would be merciful when she could be, and dole out death when it was necessary. She slept far better that night.

When they docked in Ketterdam, she spotted a runner from the Dregs rush off towards the Slat. Then Kaz came limping up to Berth 22, out of breath, but scanning the deck for her. She hadn’t realized quite how much she’d missed him until she saw his dour face. He was scowling into the sun from under his hat, gloved hands gripped tight on his cane. When she slipped down to the dock, she caught the glimmer of a smile ghost across his face. Kaz nodded tightly to her. His body language was tense, not exactly inviting. Inej held herself back, not sure how to greet him. Before either of them said a word, she heard a whoop from down the quay. Jesper was literally charging through the crowd, dragging Wylan behind him. Inej had sent them all word from Os Kervo about her return. Kaz grimaced, then rumbled, ‘Meet me at the Slat later. We’ll catch up.’ Then Jes shot around Kaz and picked Inej up in a hug. Despite her protests. She could have stabbed him then. By the time Jesper put her down, Kaz was retreating. Damnit, Jes. Inej gave in and greeted the boys, vowing to get to the Slat as soon as she could. 

Specht and Kierik had The Wraith well in hand, and she promised Jes and Wy she’d be at the mansion tonight. She took a rooftop route to the Slat, rejoicing at climbing again over the familiar terrain that she’d claimed as her own. When she approached her usual window, she found Kaz seated at his work table, his back to her. He greeted her with his usual ‘Hello Inej’ as she slipped inside. Later, she would wonder if she’d only imagined it sounded softer than before. They ended up sitting on the small couch, her knee pressed to his thigh. Kaz took his gloves off, but didn’t reach out towards her. She kept her hands to herself. Inej told him almost everything, answered his questions. Kaz told her a bit of what had happened in the Barrel. He mentioned that Pekka Rollins had fled the country, and so she gave him a brief retelling of her midnight visit. He seemed a bit flabbergasted, and it pleased her to astound him. 

Every so often, her eyes wandered down to their clothed legs touching. His bare hands gripped tight to his leg and the couch. She didn’t know what she’d expected. It wasn’t like she was ready for a lot more than this. He probably wasn’t either. But some part of her longed to reach out. To grab him to her. I’m being ridiculous. When Kaz got up to get her a folder from his safe, she missed the warmth of him against her, as minimal as the touch had been. He asked how long she’d be in Ketterdam. A week, maybe more. They wanted to get back out there. He nodded tightly again. Why did I expect him to be less reserved? It’s only been six weeks. Kaz wasn’t going to change overnight. Even if she felt like she’d changed a lot during her first voyage. Inej left to head to the Van Eck mansion, and her waiting suite, feeling like a drink or two was in order.

For a few days, she reveled with the boys. Told them of her adventures, drank, ate too much, sang into the night, slept in, and luxuriated in hot showers. Jesper and Wylan were proud of her, eating up all of her stories. They’d gotten the dining room ceiling fixed. Though the dining room itself still looked a bit like a disaster zone. She teased them about paintings and chemicals where the food should be. They promised to try and have it look more like a dining room when she was in town. And they all laughed some more. She’d missed these two rascals almost as much as Kaz. They’d brought Wylan’s mother Marya home to the mansion from the Church of Saint Hilde shortly before Inej left. In the six weeks Inej had been gone, Marya had begun to come back to herself slowly. She was still rather quiet, but she recognized Inej, and often smiled warmly when she joined them for meals. Inej realized that all of the people she cared for in Ketterdam were akin to home for her as well. Even that stiff Bastard. She snuck into the Slat and left Kaz a note to let him know her departure date, disappointed when he wasn’t in his attic office. 

Kaz showed up at Berth 22 with a slim folder containing new information. He gives me intel on slavers. Did I expect flowers? Or another hat? Saints, what’s wrong with me? Feeling a bit ridiculous, she took the folder from his bare hand, letting her fingers graze his. His hand shook almost imperceptibly. The ghost of a smile that flashed on his face pleased her, though. Kaz rasped, ‘Happy hunting, Captain Ghafa.’ and then gave her one of his signature nods. Inej nodded back, and murmured, ‘Thank you. ’ She wasn’t sure what else she’d conceived might happen. At least Jesper and Wylan had said their goodbyes at the mansion the night before. Then she was back on The Wraith, this time steering her warship out of Fifth Harbor herself.

This pattern repeated. The Wraith would venture forth on the True Sea. They learned the slavers' routes along all the coasts they frequented. She and her crew gathered intel with each hunt, with each trip into a port, and each return to Ketterdam. Kaz and Inej built up their international network of spiders, with covert contacts in quite a few places. She also took some personal side hunts, paying another two visits to Pekka Rollins to make sure the skiv stayed on the run. The Wraith’s crew gained new members. A former indenture from the Sweet Shop, determined to help others avoid her fate. A Squaller they rescued, who chose not to return to Ravka because he wanted to do something with meaning. A Shu girl whose twin and Grisha mother had been killed during an altercation with the Khergud. A Zemeni Navy officer who wanted to be more effective in hunting slavers. Two cats that Kierik found to help control rodents on board. Everyone was passionate about their mission for one reason or another. 

Inej invested in Fabrikated garments for protection for her crew, as well as better weapons. They lost three more crew members on various hunts. The loss of Alfie, one of Specht’s Kerch Navy buddies, hit the hardest. After Alfie was shot in the chest, the Fabrikated vests became mandatory. The crew drilled not just in combat, but in safety procedures as well. A two person team, often Oxana and Alexi, swept the holds of slaver ships for captives and hiding enemies, working to watch each other’s backs. Those two also taught Ravkan to any crew who wanted to learn it. As the crew rescued Grisha, zowa, and entirely too many children, they grew more fervent. They returned as many of the rescued captives directly home as they could. And delivered surviving slavers to whichever authority would put them to justice.

The captains and crews of slaver ships discovered that The Wraith was less likely to show mercy than any country's authorities. That Captain Ghafa was quick with her knives, and quicker still to extract information at knife point. And that her crew were loyal to her and zealous in battle. As the reputation of both ship and captain grew, so too did the attention paid to just how disruptive they were to the slave trade. Twice, The Wraith was the hunted rather than the hunter, but Captain Ghafa and her crew came out victorious. The captains of those ships were not so lucky. With each success, Inej’s surety in her path increased. Inej found herself with less doubt about her actions as they uncovered horrors in holds and captains who confessed to terrible acts. When she killed, she did so with prayers to her Saints, and less guilt each time. 

Early on, the sights they discovered often made her panic or left her with nightmares. As they continued their hunts, and Inej knew they were helping to shut down indenture pipelines to the brothels, her anxieties lessened. Often, she had conversations with Lizabet, exploring the ramifications of the path she was on. Inej also discussed a little of her past, not only with Lizabet, but with Seile, who’d been indentured at the Sweet Shop, and Oxana, who’d seen horrors in her time in the Ravkan First Army. The women listened, traded stories, and never pitied her. She found her flashbacks to her own captivity and her time in the Menagerie became easier to handle. Inej felt like she was reclaiming old parts of herself even as she discovered new ones. Her faith in their mission only grew. The Wraith was making a difference, albeit slowly. The other gangs and the Merchant Council had taken notice, Kaz warned her. It only strengthened her resolve. When she was in Ketterdam, she moved with stealth whenever possible. The Van Eck mansion was well protected, and Wylan paid his loyal house staff enough to keep all of their secrets. When she was in the Barrel, the Dregs had her back. Kaz made sure of it. The Wraith and her captain became known as the Scourge of True Sea.

Inej’s interactions and closeness with her crew worked to bolster her confidence. Early on, she’d fallen back on her experience as a performer, treating her role as Captain as just that, a role to play. As time wore on, she found trust in herself, in her crew, and in her path. Being the captain and working closely with her crew helped her in unanticipated ways. She’d gotten better about physical proximity; being aboard meant tight quarters, but her crew had learned her boundaries. A few crew members tried flirting with her at various points, but were respectful when she’d let them know she wasn’t interested. The ability to say no and not have to enforce it with a knife had been refreshing. Each encounter made Inej grow bolder in her ability to relax with her crew. She was even more comfortable with the physical affection that Jesper and Wylan showed when she was in Ketterdam. Inej found she was more interested in something like physical affection with Kaz. That front, however, was moving at a glacial pace.

Kaz seemed to run warm and cold. Never hot. She wondered what hot would even look like for him. Sometimes, they’d sit in his attic office and just barely touch on the couch. A few times, he managed hugs. Often, she felt as if he was still putting up walls. Closing that armor around him like always. She’d see glimmers. A ghost of a smile here. Reaching out his bare hand there. Every so often, she wanted to grab his fingers and press them to her skin. And then what? It’s not like you’re going to act on all those fantasies you have of him. Inej had found herself dreaming of far more intimacy with Kaz than she’d ever thought herself capable. Not since the Menagerie. Not since what she’d gone through. She wondered at her own walls, that she’d thought were put in place by the hell she’d lived through. Internally, especially in her dreams, they seemed to be coming down. Inej had cravings. For touch, for pleasure. For the experiences that had been stolen from her. For experiences she’d never had, like someone caring about her wants or needs. Most often, her mind decided it craved a certain untouchable Bastard. She’d wake up, panting, her legs clenched, an ache in her core she didn’t know how to satisfy. Not comfortable enough with her own body, she wanted to reclaim it.

Gathering up every lick of courage, and tamping down her embarrassment, she had a private conversation with Lizabet about all of it. The Medik was kind, gentle, and entirely frank. She also gave Inej the name of a Grisha Healer in Ketterdam that specialized in things of a sexual and reproductive nature. This began Inej’s journey into trying to recapture her body for her own, and exploring what sexuality might look like for her. She wanted to reassert control over the last facet of herself that had been profaned. The first time she attempted to masturbate, she managed to frustrate herself further, and stayed completely silent, cheeks burning. She’d been forced to perform, in both body and voice. There’d been one patron that demanded she touch her own breasts while he was with her, but she’d vanished from her head and hadn’t felt anything. Nothing had ever been about her pleasure. Now she wanted to explore just that. She wished she could talk to Nina, but her Grisha friend had been on covert missions in Fjerda for months and Inej hadn’t heard from her since the last letter from Ravka.

The next time they docked in Ketterdam, she paid a visit to the Grisha Healer’s clinic. She left with her face hot, and her mind swimming with information, but feeling far more educated about her body. Lizabet had told her basics; Arika, the Grisha Healer, went into excruciating detail. And performed a very patient and gentle exam, mostly without touching, to make sure nothing was damaged within her. The Healer had offered to smooth some of her scars from the Menagerie. Inej declined. Her scars were a map of her history, and a reminder of everything she fought for. So long as they weren’t actively causing her pain, they could stay. She was relieved to know that the abuse she’d suffered in that year of hell hadn’t permanently affected her physically. Arika told her she’d be able to have children if she ever wanted, and gave her advice on birth control methods that were far less harsh than what Tante Heleen had employed.

It took Inej a few more attempts, as she learned herself, what worked and what didn’t when it came to her own pleasure. She discovered that if she wasn’t performing for someone else, she did actually like making noise. Letting herself cry out, groan in true reaction, not staged moans, was freeing. She found out how reactive her breasts were, how she could tease her nipples as well as the sensitive external button at her core. Inej reacquainted herself with her own body, and her confidence surged. The first time she made herself climax, the lighting that shot up her spine startled her. It was exquisite. It was ice cream on waffles. It was soaring over rooftops. It was walking the high wire. Nina, Lizabet, and Arika had all told her it could be so good, by herself, or with a partner that she trusted and actually wanted, but she’d doubted them. Not anymore. 

As she continued to experiment, she couldn’t help but ponder what it could be like with Kaz. Just touching his hands thrilled her. His long, skilled fingers, so soft and strong, wandered through her imagination. Her mind often brought up the afternoon in the Geldrenner bathroom, when Kaz’s lips had brushed her neck, right above her pulse. What might have happened if he hadn’t reacted the way he had to touching her. She vividly remembered the times he’d stripped to the waist in front of her. The hard corded muscle of his torso; his pale, scarred skin. She thought of the few times he’d held her in his arms. How his height and strength were comforting instead of intimidating. He felt safe in a way no one else did. She pondered how his mouth might taste. If he would look at her like she was the sun after they kissed. Her dreams of him only got more vivid and adventurous. At least now she could help herself with the cravings she awoke with. She also found herself having less nightmares, and felt far more powerful in them when she did. Not only had Kaz always believed in her ability to be dangerous, now much of the world believed it as well.

When Inej met with Kaz at the Slat before leaving for another hunt, he went through his routine of handing her a folder, giving her intel. She wanted to hold his hand, and found herself imagining far more than that. He did have his gloves off, as he sat next to her on the couch. Inej laid her hand where her knee met his thigh, palm up, in an obvious offer. Kaz stared down at her hand for a moment, his entire frame gone still. She watched, fascinated, as she could nearly see the thought process as he decided what to do. He placed his hand over hers. The contact sent little shivers into her. She wondered where this could lead and caressed his palm. Then she realized he was trembling. His eyes were distant, and his breathing was irregular. 

‘Kaz?’ Suddenly, he was careening off the couch, lunging for the waste bin by his work table. He knelt on the floor awkwardly, huddled around the bin. She tried his name again. Kaz shook his head, looking ill. Well, that went horribly. She knew he had issues with touch. But she didn’t know specifics. He wouldn’t ever answer her questions directly. In this moment, she was both worried and utterly frustrated. Just talk to me, you great big podge. He wasn’t talking, but at least he’d stopped dry heaving. 

‘Can I get you anything? Water?’ Kaz shook his head almost violently, his eyes shut tight. He was still having occasional tremors of appearing nauseous. Inej realized he was probably embarrassed, and possibly angry about that. He didn’t handle being weak in front of anyone well, even her. Maybe especially her, right now. He’d tried to hold her hand. At least there was that. ‘Do you want me to just go, Kaz?’ He went stock still, then exhaled and nodded tightly once. His entire posture spoke of defeat, of agony. His bad leg was likely unhappy in his current position, but she knew that wasn’t the whole of it. Kaz didn’t look at her as she padded towards the window. 

She didn’t know why she chose the words she did, but as she left, she murmured, ‘Please take care of yourself, Kaz.’ She saw him give one more nod, and then she slipped out his window with the folder. As she wound her way towards the mansion, Inej replayed the incident in her mind. If he’d just explain why touch was so hard for him, maybe she could help. But then, she hadn’t really ever told him much about her time at the Menagerie. She figured he knew what had happened without needing details. He didn’t ask, and she didn’t want to bring it up. Maybe we’re just terrible at talking to each other.

The Wraith set sail the next day. Kaz didn’t come to Berth 22, and she wasn’t surprised. She tried to put aside her frustration and worry about what had happened the night before. They still had a lot of their dance to figure out, as it turned out. Kaz was trying, but his steps looked different from hers. He always had information for her, always wanted to hear about her adventures. Taking cues from her mission, he’d changed a lot of things about how the Dregs operated. Hell, he’d blown the damned front off of the Menagerie. And then shrugged it off like it was a fly he’d swatted. The hug they’d shared that afternoon had been especially good, but then he’d gone all speechless. It was so hard to get a read on him sometimes. He’s trying, even if he doesn’t open up to me. Inej was still exploring herself, though she felt as though she’d found out a great deal about who she was, and who she could be, in these last eleven months. 

She was full of anticipation for their latest hunt as they moved north along the Ravkan coast. There was one target that had eluded her and her crew so far. In the folder Kaz had handed her last night, there was intel on a sighting of The Vitomir up by Djerholm. Apparently, the slaver ship’s captain knew The Wraith was hunting him and his crew, and had taken to hiding in Fjerdan waters. We will find you, Inej thought, as she worked through sharpening all of her knives.

Chapter Text

Kaz held the letter from Inej in his hands, reading it for the fifth time. The second hunt The Wraith had gone on was successful. She’d sent word on a fast courier ship from Os Kervo with an approximate arrival date for her return to Ketterdam. Relief and anxiety warred within him. Inej was safe, and coming back. This was what he wanted, right? Then why did it feel like his nerves might explode his heart like one of Wylan’s bombs? It had been six weeks of missing her. Of worry. Of working to enact some changes in the way the Dregs ran things. He’d gathered more intel for her as well, and was eager to present it to her. Kaz had things to show her, tell her, that he hoped would make her happy. Maybe even proud of him. Which was ridiculous if he thought about it too much. But the reality of seeing her in person again was giving him heart palpitations. Would he be able to touch her? Hold her hand like before? Would she still want that after having her adventures on the True Sea? His mind was a whirlwind of doubt, unkind voices saying he was foolish, that she would find him far less thrilling after being captain of her own warship. That he still didn’t know how to offer himself without armor. Or even exactly what that meant. Certainly, it wasn’t just the gloves. 

He assigned younger members of the Dregs in shifts to watch Berth 22 at Fifth Harbor. Jeter, who was fully recovered, and had put on some weight and muscle, offered to take the early shifts no one else wanted. The one eyed kid gave his all to the Dregs and then some. He’d ingratiated himself with most of the crew. Kaz didn’t regret letting Anika and Pim bring in a stray. They’d even organized a cleaning schedule for the Slat because of Jeter’s efforts. Some of the Dregs griped about it, but many seemed to take a bit of pride in their ramshackle home looking better. Kaz admitted privately to his lieutenants that they would need more housing soon, as the crew increased in numbers. He was glad they had plenty of runners to spare to watch the docks for the arrival of The Wraith. On the morning he was fairly certain Inej would arrive, he donned his best suit. His instincts were correct. Jeter raced into the Slat. ‘Boss, the ship’s here!’

Thanking the reasonably nice summer weather that was being kind to his bad leg, Kaz made haste to Fifth Harbor. He pushed himself entirely too hard, however, and by the time he made it to Berth 22, he was gripping his cane fiercely to avoid stumbling. Damned leg. The sun was at just the right angle to blind him as he tried to spot Inej on her ship. Damned sun. Then he saw her. Good Ghezen, she looks amazing. Inej was a shade bronzer than when she’d left, her cheeks rosy, her dark eyes brilliant under the tricorn hat he’d gotten her, knives gleaming here and there. She looked every inch the dangerous captain of The Wraith. He forgot to school his face, and any words he might have had, so struck by how stunning and confident Inej was as she strode towards him. You’re in public, you fucking podge, get a hold of yourself. Kaz grappled his composure back in place, and nodded to her as she drew close. He still had no clue what to say.

The window of opportunity swiftly closed. Kaz heard Jesper hollering behind him, with Wylan’s voice coming after. Of course those two interrupt again. Damned idiots. He bit back any rudeness that might have escaped his lips, for Inej’s sake. They were her friends too, and it wasn’t necessarily their fault his mouth failed him. He didn’t have to like it, though. Maybe he’d do better seeing her alone at the Slat. In private. He requested for her to meet him later. Then Jes was past him and sweeping Inej into an embrace. Kaz had to turn away, lest he smack his friend away from her or do something else equally stupid. He had no claims. She could hug who she wanted. He wasn’t even sure if he could do the same, even if the memory of her in his arms often came to him in his dreams. Catching her from a fall was different than running up and hugging her like Jes did. He could barely stand the painful walk to the Slat currently, never mind running. 

By the time he’d gotten back to his attic office, his bad leg was a riot of pain, and his mind was a riot of chaos and uncertainty. He slumped into the comfortable desk chair at his work table, and tried in vain to get the muscles around the old break to ease up. Perhaps he could try and quiet his mind with some work. He also debated a shot of kvas to ease the pain in his leg, but it was rather early for that, and he’d rather be sober for a meeting with Inej. He’d opened the first ledger when his senses informed him she’d already gotten to his roof. Of course. Kaz greeted her much as he always did, reveling in a tiny bit of the old routine with a bittersweet joy. She gave a tiny little huff. Maybe she’d thought he’d lost his knack for sensing her in six weeks. He turned in his desk chair to find she was every bit as stunning here as she’d been on the dock, even without the bright morning sun lighting her up like a pirate Saint. His mind was at war again. Wanting to be close to her, but anxious about if he could handle it, or if Inej wanted it. 

He gestured wordlessly to the small couch he’d added to the office, not trusting his mouth to cooperate. Inej inclined her head, and gracefully crossed the room to sit. Kaz marshaled his mind, and bit his cheek to distract him from the pain of standing and moving to the couch. Fucking leg. He sat to her right, letting his left leg land close to hers, and keeping his bad leg away from possible contact. The couch was even more cozy than his new desk chair, which was a small blessing at the moment. Inej shifted, bringing her legs up at an angle that put one knee within inches of his thigh. He tried not to stare. It seemed she did want some closeness. His entire chest seized, possibly with nerves, possibly with heart failure. Breath, you idiot. He let his leg drift sideways until it was just touching her knee, and stifled the shudder that threatened to run through him. Take off the gloves! said some impetuous part of his brain that was fearless. He debated, but listened against the better judgment of the more cautious parts. Slowly, he peeled his gloves off and rested them on the arm of the couch. It was Inej’s turn not to stare. He kept one hand gripped over his thigh, near her knee, but not daring to touch her. The other was near his gloves, in case he needed to snatch them back up.

Kaz told his mouth it needed to hurry up and figure out a plan. That’s usually our strong suit, remember? Half a dozen things to say occurred to him. Like how much he’d missed her, or how staggeringly beautiful he found her in her current state, or that she seemed to have gained some new knives, or that he'd been feeding her crows. None of them sounded like a good idea to actually say out loud. In desperation, he went for the simplest question first. ‘Tell me all about your adventures?’ Kaz listened raptly to all of her news. Watched her happiness when she talked about visiting with her family in Ravka. Her exhilaration in her first two successful hunts. The satisfying tales of returned Suli children. He asked questions occasionally. His intel had led to Captain Ghafa and her crew taking down two slavers operating off the coast of western Ravka. Neither was the one that had kidnapped Inej, but there were now more leads to get her closer. And slavers in Ravkan irons, she announced with some pride. He thrilled in her successes and joy, all while feeling a bit lost, almost left out somehow. Kaz noted a bit of tension here and there, like when she talked about the captain of the second vessel. There were things she was holding back, but he wasn’t sure if he should pry. Inej didn’t seem to thrill in her own violence, and he suspected that there was something she regretted in what she wasn’t telling him. 

Instead of asking her more leading questions, he let her have her privacy on whatever was troubling her. He gave her updates on the news of the Barrel. Happenings with the Merchant Council, and how things had played out after she left. How the Dregs had grown, and how well Jeter was doing. She smiled at that, and told him that she’d noticed that he’d been the runner who’d spotted her. ‘He looks so much healthier!’ Kaz also told her he’d gotten word that Pekka Rollins had pulled up stakes from his country estate and left Kerch entirely. There was a devious glint to her eyes then. She let slip that she’d visited Rollins before she’d sailed off. ‘You what!?’ Inej had caught him so completely off guard he sputtered. ‘Just wanted to make sure he knew I hadn’t forgotten about him. Glad he moved on.’ Kaz blinked at her nonchalance, like rolling in and terrorizing the former King of the Barrel had been a walk in the park and not a high wire act. There’s no way I deserve this woman, was the loudest thought his brain provided even as he tried to think of questions.

Inej didn’t seem inclined to give him much more detail besides that she’d visited Pekka’s country estate, and reminded Rollins she could find him anywhere. Kaz didn’t doubt how scary she could be, even without much in the way of violence. Rollins might have thought himself safe, but Inej was the Wraith. He wondered, though, if like with the slaver captain, she was withholding a detail that troubled her. Should I push? His eyes flicked down to their legs touching on the couch. Whatever this thing was that existed between them seemed tenuous at best. His mind was already a cacophony of nervous thoughts, and the last thing that he wanted to do was let his mouth ruin things. And Kaz had been trying to let go of his singular focus on Rollins. He moved on to a related topic, and let her know that he and the Dregs had bought up all of Rollins’ buildings, the last sale having just been finalized. Her answering smile was wicked.

He watched as her gaze strayed to their legs, then back up to him. His mouth went dry, and his brain was filled with a rush of wind that blew all his words away. Did she mind their legs touching? He was the one who’d closed the gap. But she could have moved back. They’d been sitting like this for the better part of an hour. How was he at such a loss as to what to do here? Maybe because you’ve never been here, you podge. Kaz couldn’t comprehend how to reach out for more without feeling selfish. Inej seemed so fulfilled by her adventures. Even with whatever actions were bothering her, it appeared she’d thoroughly enjoyed her taste of freedom. He didn’t want to fetter Inej to him or the city she’d escaped. If he slipped his hand over her knee, how would she take that? He didn’t want to spook her, or make her feel like he wanted things she didn’t feel comfortable with. Better by far to let her make the next move. Or let her sail off again without feeling like she was obliged to him. Like he was trying to make any claims on her person or her time.

The decision to let her go in the first place crowded back into his mind. Kaz had plenty of experience in letting things go. He held in the sigh that threatened to escape him as he moved to get up. Both because he didn’t want to leave her side, and because even with rest, his bad leg was still grumpy. By way of explanation for his movement, he told her, ‘Got you plenty of new intel, by the way.’ He left his gloves on the couch as he used his cane to lever himself up. Hiding how horribly his leg hurt was second nature, even around Inej. He fetched the organized folder from his safe. It included information on more slaver ships, corruption among the Merchant Council, and which gangs were doing the shadiest of business. He also told her he would look into the previous indenture sales from The Branka. Then he asked her how long she’d be staying in Ketterdam.

‘This is just a short supply run, so maybe a week or so. The crew and I are eager to get back out there ahead of the late summer storms.’ Kaz rigidly held his expression to avoid showing her any disappointment as he inclined his head. He wasn’t making any claims, and that meant he had no say over how long she stayed near him or in the city. Had he hoped she’d be here longer? Hope is dangerous, remember? He asked if she was staying at the Van Eck mansion. She was, and she ought to get there soon, she replied. Kaz felt the head of his cane digging into his bare hand as he gripped it too tight again. The pain in his leg was being rivaled by the ache of not knowing what to do or say. He managed to tell her to enjoy her time with the boys. And then she was out of his window and gone over the rooftops. 

Ghezen, you’re a fucking idiot. Kaz knew he should get some work done. That ledgers and math might help with the whirlwind in his mind. But his leg and his head were both protesting. He grabbed the bottle of kvas, and poured out a shot. Fuck how early it still is. As the liquor burned down his throat, he let himself collapse on the couch, this time, stretching out his leg along its length. Bare fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he groaned. What could I have done differently? Nothing immediately came to mind. Inej shouldn’t feel constrained by him, or his desire to see more of her. She’d said she wasn’t done with him or Ketterdam, and she’d come back. What more did he want? So much he couldn’t have, or couldn’t currently offer her. And she’d said she was eager to get back out. He could poke his contacts, see if there was any fresh intel he could gather for her. He had the name of the ship she suspected had taken her. The Vitomir. Curiously, it was a Ravkan ship name. Inej had said once that the slavers who took her had spoken a language she didn’t recognize. The crew must be mixed, then, not fully Ravkan. That gave him more to go on. This was something concrete Kaz could offer; he was skilled at gathering and analyzing information. Having a plan of action helped his rattled mind. The shot of kvas had taken the edge off of the pain of his leg. The rest, the uncertainty when it came to Inej, he shoved into a mental safe vault. Have to be able to function. When he felt well enough to move, he gathered up his gloves, and made his way downstairs to summon Roeder. 

Over the next few days, Kaz tapped all of his informants, and Roeder actually came through with some new intel as well. It would take more than a week to hunt down information on The Vitomir, but Kaz had a new lead on a slaver ship operating off the coast of Novyi Zem that he’d already compiled intel on. He also had manifests for the sales The Branka had made in Ketterdam, and a contact to find out about the Southern Colonies sale. I’ll make sure she knows I support her mission, that she can count on me for this. Late one night, when he arrived back at the Slat after visiting his newly purchased properties, there was a note on his work table in Inej’s handwriting. It was short, letting him know when she’d be leaving, and thanking him for the data he’d already given her. Kaz nodded to himself. He’d go, and see her off, and hand her another folder. I’ll prove my usefulness. 

Trying to sleep that night, he thought of and discarded a few other ideas. A more personal note inside the folder seemed trite, somehow. The hat had gone over well, and she clearly liked it, but she certainly only needed one captain’s hat. She had plenty of knives. Any more public display of affection on the docks struck him as a security risk. Possibly, he was better at grand gestures, like parental reunions and warships, than he was at smaller ones. He rolled over and punched his pillow, willing his brain to let him rest. It wasn’t like sleep was a friend in the first place. Kaz could barely remember a time without nightmares and troubling dreams. The last restful slumber he could recall was from before. Before Da… before Jordie… Before Inej had almost been killed, and then kidnapped. His brain provided so many terrors in his sleep, from the Reaper’s Barge to Inej being dropped from high above Vellgeluk. Simpler nightmares came too. That night, when he finally got his eyes to stay shut, he dreamt he overslept and missed seeing Inej off at the docks.

The morning The Wraith was set to leave, he got an early start so he wouldn’t strain his leg. Or miss seeing her. Once he was at Berth 22, he slipped his gloves off and into his pockets. He waited for Inej to notice him amongst the bustle of preparing to sail. The jittery nerves that had been with him over several sleepless nights had him clamping down hard on his expression. He needed to keep himself together in public, for both of their sakes. No need for her crew or anyone else at Fifth Harbor to see the Bastard of the Barrel having a nervous breakdown. Just because he happened to not be able to sleep, or get his head on straight when it came to a certain Captain. Who was now walking up to him. Kaz held the folder out to her. ‘A few new leads, and manifests on The Branka’s sales here. I will have more for you the next time you dock. Possibly before. I’ll send coded letters as needed.’ Inej’s fingers brushed across his knuckles. He clamped down on the full body tremor her touch caused, but the smile escaped before he could stop it. Wily, his Wraith was. Always finding ways to unravel him. Fortunately, he’d repeatedly rehearsed his goodbye phrase on his walk here till he was sure he’d have the words. That his mouth wouldn’t rebel. ‘Happy hunting, Captain Ghafa,’ he wished her, with a nod. And then he watched her set sail again.

Kaz attempted to settle back into his routine. The one that existed in the six weeks Inej was on her first voyage. He concentrated on his work. His businesses and investments and plans. And he tried, only somewhat successfully, to ignore the loneliness that washed over him when he gazed at his attic office window. Or thought too much about Inej’s quiet presence tickling his senses. Her knee against his thigh. Her fingers brushing against his knuckles. Sharing meals with her after heists. Hearing her laugh. Saints, her laugh. Somehow, this second departure was worse, and he wasn’t sure why. Nightmares about Inej dying on the deck of The Wraith entered the fray. He needed to get a hold of himself. 

It didn’t occur to him to reach out to anyone else to assuage the lonely pangs. Kaz had never done so in the past; it wasn’t currently in his nature. There had been some contact between him and Jesper and Wylan, but the merchling was adamant about Jesper staying out of the Barrel. Staying away from the temptation of the gambling halls. Kaz could see the reasoning. While he’d mostly come to terms with Jesper’s egregious security fuck up during the Ice Court heist, Kaz still had an uneasy feeling around Jes. Their fight in the Geldrenner had opened up a mental vault he hadn’t wanted anyone near. He attributed his slip up with his brother’s name to exhaustion and being overwrought. Examining the nature of his relationship with Jesper was not something he was willing or able to tackle at the moment.

At least he and Inej wrote each other letters. He’d ensured there was a network of trusted people in various ports so that they could maintain contact safely. Inej and her people were adding in new covert contacts as well. Their missives were never too personal, keeping some details vague for security reasons, but he ate up every word of her adventures. He wrote of happenings in the Barrel in coded phrases, kept her apprised of what the various gangs and merchers were up to. Sometimes she would include a postscript about missing him or the city, and he greedily hoarded every line. His answers said that Ketterdam and he would be waiting for her. He missed her fiercely, but hesitated to say it, lest she feel obligated. Or lest he reveal too much. He’d given her a warship, but couldn’t yet admit how much she meant to him. To Inej, or even to himself. Once he’d made the decision to let her go, he felt the need to abide by it. Even if it ate at him like starvation. Kaz was used to going hungry for things, but this was a new ache. Each letter he got confirming her safety, her continued success, fed his need to know she was well. But every departure brought up his fears for her, and his loneliness again. The cycle of her returning and leaving Ketterdam began to drive his moods more than he cared to admit.

Each time Inej came back, he vacillated between wanting to see her and wanting to keep his distance so she wouldn’t feel tied to him. The same war of nerves, heart, and mind would happen, but he continued to see her when she was there. He always had a folder of intel for her. Sometimes they sat on the couch and talked for hours. Kaz tried holding her hands with his bare ones, giving her clothed embraces. His body and his brain would occasionally rebel, and cast him into the harbor. The discouragement he felt with each failure made the vines of hope constrict into a vice on his heart. Hope was dangerous. He’d yet to figure out how to offer her more. And that ate at him too. Inej kept coming to see him at the Slat, even with as meager as it must have been to spend time with him. 

He always had runners stationed at Fifth Harbor when he knew she was due to arrive. Sometimes, he’d get to the docks to greet her as The Wraith came in. Some days, the pain in his bad leg wouldn’t allow him to get there quickly, so he’d send notes requesting for her to meet him. Most often, he watched her depart with a gnawing ache. His crew probably noticed how his mood shifted depending on if The Wraith was in Ketterdam, but he found he couldn’t be bothered to fix it. Rotty made a wry comment once, but between Kaz’s scowled reaction, and Pim slapping him on the back of the head, the mistake had not been repeated. Kaz was often surly even when Inej was in town, but it was far worse when she left. He was immensely proud of her, though. She was triumphant and glorious and fierce. Her reputation, and that of The Wraith, grew with each voyage. He heard the rumors of the Scourge of the True Sea. Sometimes, he fed the rumors more fodder. About how skilled she was with her knives. How she moved like the very night itself. How merciless her crew could be. It protected her somewhat, to have the slavers afraid enough that surrender seemed the best option. 

Kaz had a crew to run, and a Barrel to rule, and he attempted to distract himself from missing Inej by increasing his empire. Galvanized by her goals, he worked to change things across all of the Dregs’ businesses. Then all of Rollins’ properties and indentures they’d purchased up. They converted The Emerald Palace into the Silver Six fairly quickly. Kaz had chosen the name with, perhaps, an abundance of sentiment. Not that he would tell anyone that. The other clubs and properties that belonged to Rollins all got renovated and turned out to Kaz’s liking. The Dime Lions completely fell apart. Some of them joined the other gangs. A few who’d never respected Pekka joined the Dregs. Kaz refused to reopen the Sweet Shop as a brothel, and converted the small pleasure house that Haskell had maintained. That wasn’t just for Inej; it made many in his crew happy as well. The Dregs claimed most of the Dime Lions territory. He released Rollins’ indentures, but many chose to stay on with the Dregs. One former Sweet Shop indenture, Seile, even joined Inej’s crew on The Wraith. Kaz had encouraged her, knowing Inej’s mission would appeal to the Kaelish woman. Eliminating any unfair indentures, and readjusting contracts, he added loyal members to his ranks. Kaz officially promoted Keeg and Rotty to minor lieutenants as the Dregs grew. 

He continually observed the politics and back biting in both the Barrel and in the Merchant Council, and as usual, saw little difference between the merchers and the gang leaders. Gang leadership changed hands. Geels took over the Black Tips, naming Elzinger as his main lieutenant. Eamon, from the Dime Lions, had joined the Razorgulls, then staged a coup and taken leadership. Kaz had to spend some time having the Dregs knock sense into both the Black Tips and the Razorgulls. Fortunately, the Liddies, Harley’s Pointers, and the West Stave Rats mostly stayed out of his way. Their leadership was older, and didn’t seem to want to stir the pot. The Dregs were the largest gang now, and Kaz took additional steps to ensure his crew were well taken care of. He expanded the Crow Club when the opportunity arose. Any chance to maximize profits and funnel them back towards his crew was taken. Maintaining the Dregs' expanded territory grew easier with the gang’s confidence and numbers.

Though many referred to him as the new King of the Barrel, Kaz went right on being the Bastard. His power and his reach expanded exponentially, but he didn’t relish taking on Pekka’s old title. Even if he’d once told Inej they'd be 'kings and queens'. Most of the lower ranks of the rival gangs would make way for him if he happened to be walking through their territories. Every so often, some young or especially stupid podge would try their hand at challenging him. Dirtyhands made object lessons of them. A lot of broken bones were left in the wake of his cane. Outside of the Barrel, he also met with an intriguing new level of fear and respect. His reputation had grown in the Geldin district. Kaz started a project expanding some existing tunnels under the city to give himself a clandestine route to the Geldstraat. Being able to move around the city undetected came in handy on numerous occasions.

There were also those, from both the gangs and the merchers, who tried to curry favor with him. As his influence grew, so too did those who thought they could bribe him. Offers of kruge, deeds to small properties, shares in businesses, Kaz didn’t mind. He objected to being offered sexual favors, and on two separate occasions, the indenture for a Suli girl. People assumed he had tastes that ran a certain way. Even though he was always mindful of how he acted around Inej in public. He didn’t bother to contain his contempt for the indenture offers. Though he did get both of the Suli girls out of Ketterdam and back to Ravka on The Wraith with Inej’s help. Her absolute rage resulted in both of the men who held the indentures finding themselves hanging naked by their ankles off the Zentsbridge, with notes pinned to their sensitive bits courtesy of Kaz’s gloved hands. It felt glorious to deliver justice by Inej’s side, to work with her again. As much as he hated why they’d needed to deliver said justice, he rode a high of satisfaction after each incident. People stopped offering Kaz indentures after the second man was rescued by the Stadwatch. Neither skiv was dumb enough to implicate Inej or Kaz to the authorities. His warnings of the consequences might have aided that.

There was an uneasy peace in the Barrel for a while, as each gang learned repeatedly that Kaz and the Dregs would give no quarter or mercy. Especially if anyone was caught badmouthing the Wraith, Captain Ghafa, or saying the word ‘whore’ in reference to either. ‘Dirtyhands’ whore’ was worse. Anika, who had a grudging respect for Inej’s role as Captain Ghafa, developed a penchant for swinging a spiked club into the offender's crotches. Rotty winced as he reported Anika’s tactics, and Kaz just smirked. One particularly nasty skiv lost his tongue after he’d switched it up and said ‘Brekker’s Suli slut’. Kaz personally saw to that one in a rather public fashion late one night. He hadn’t even needed to channel Dirtyhands, he’d been so livid. There was both frustration, and fury, that people assumed a sex life he and Inej didn’t currently share. That anyone would dare refer to her that way, even if they’d been sharing that intimacy, made his blood boil. The moratorium on pejoratives began to extend to any crew member who had worked in the skin trade. The other gangs learned to keep the words ‘whore’ and the like out of their mouths around the Dregs.

Kaz also ensured that Tante Heleen went bankrupt. The Menagerie's business had taken the hit of the false plague hard. Heleen thought she'd be able to make a comeback, but her every move was thwarted by Kaz’s machinations. He used his influence and intel to antagonize the Peacock. Eventually, she gave up trying to reopen her brothel in the Barrel, and Kaz secured the freedom of all of her indentures. Most wanted to leave Ketterdam, but some stayed, and two even joined the Dregs. Heleen was currently attempting to open a brothel in Zierfoort, but her permits kept being blocked, and one of her investors had backed out recently. Roeder wasn’t as good a spider as the Wraith, but he kept trying to prove his worth to Kaz. His trips south had gathered up enough intel to tie up Heleen's plans indefinitely. Kaz wrote little snippets of ‘the fate of the Peacock’ in his letters to Inej.

One night, just before Inej would be docking again, he set some carefully designed explosives to blow the gilded cage facade off of the abandoned Menagerie. Wylan had agreed to supply him the charges when Kaz had admitted what they were for, but he’d then sworn the merchling to secrecy. The damage left the surrounding buildings untouched. Kaz had waited until Heleen was occupied down in Zierfoort. The property owner might assume she’d destroyed the Menagerie building to get out of back rent. Or that it had been targeted because of her. Either way, the building would need to be demolished. It was all another brick in the revenge he’d been wreaking on Heleen. Inej hadn’t ever asked or spoken with him about revenge on the clients that had harmed her. That was something he wouldn’t move on without her specific sanction. Heleen was another matter. He wouldn’t kill her without Inej’s assent, but making her life hell was just good business, the way he saw it. Kaz didn’t send word of the destruction of the facade to Inej; he let her hear of it, see it for herself as she came through the Barrel after she’d docked.

When she burst into his window and asked him if he was responsible, he shrugged and said the facade had annoyed him. Inej looked fierce, beautiful, and damp. It was raining and gray outside, and still, she was like a sunbeam standing in his attic office. She stared at him, her face a mixture of amusement and consternation, and then asked if she could hug him. Kaz nodded, though he was nervous that he’d have a bad reaction since she was wet from the rain. Fortunately, his body and brain cooperated, and the embrace warmed him to the bone. Unable to explain to her that he wanted to give her so much more than he was capable of, he just held her for a few moments while she said ‘thank you’ into his waistcoat. He managed to say ‘you’re welcome’, and her laugh vibrated through him. His heart did a damn jig in his chest. When Inej stepped back, Kaz lost all words. Her laugh, her gratitude, and the satisfied gleam in her eyes overwhelmed him. She searched his face, and he just gazed down at her, his traitorous mouth useless. ‘At least you remembered how to say those words.’ Kaz nodded again, and gave her a sly smile. She shook her head at him, and took her leave to return to the Van Eck mansion, saying she had to tell the boys. Wylan had kept the secret well. Jesper tried literally patting him on the back for the deed later. Kaz almost decked him, but stopped himself in time. 

Slowly, but surely, he started laying the groundwork to change the very nature of the Barrel itself. He began to orchestrate for the Dregs to operate all of their clubs without indentures wherever possible. His long term plans were to show the other gangs and the Merchant Council that not only could this be done, it could be more profitable. And it was turning out to be rather profitable for him and the Dregs indeed. Here, Inej’s motivations and his greed aligned. Able to turn their profits into better pay, and coverage for taxes on all of the Dregs properties, he was legitimizing all of their businesses. Kaz endeavored to ensure the right kind of attention was garnered for his empire, and for all of the Dregs’ holdings. He reveled in the mythology that had grown up around The Wraith, Captain Ghafa, and her ‘bloodthirsty’ crew, and kept reinforcing the idea that slavery was becoming less profitable in every manner.

He monitored the Merchant Council members, using Roeder and a few other spiders to make sure he knew about every speck of bonedust in the mercher’s closets. Every mistress and sex slave, every shady deal, every horrible secret. There were some ties to slavers going on with both Council members Van Verent and Torben, but they needed more proof before they’d be able to move on either. Jan Van Eck was still rotting in Hellgate. Kaz occasionally arranged for horrid surprises for the man, like bed bugs, spoiled food, or a week without latrine services. He even managed to get Van Eck a cellmate who had a penchant for abusing his fellow inmates. Last he'd heard from Hellgate, Jan had suffered two broken tibias. The mercher scum should never have threatened Inej. Wylan actually thanked him shyly at one point, when the merchling got a report about his father being in the infirmary. Kaz simply said ‘Thank me with more intel on the Merchant Council.’ He fed as much information to Inej as he could on mercher deals that might be tied to illegal activity. Her vision for change had become his. 

As time wore on, Kaz thought he needed to change his own nature like he was changing the Barrel. It seemed as though half of his life had been spent building up walls, avoiding touch, avoiding connection. Holding even those he cared about at a distance. Sometimes it felt as if there were no place in Ketterdam he couldn't get into, no lock in the world that he couldn't pick; except for his own heart, except for the mental safe vaults that he kept shoving things into. Like his complicated thoughts about Jesper. His secret need to see Wylan succeed. His grief over Matthias. Even missing taunts with Nina got placed in a vault. And all of his tumultuous feelings for Inej that kept escaping. After nearly a year of stops and starts, of strained visits, he wondered if Inej still saw anything in him worth waiting for. Worth coming back to. He always made sure he had more intel for her. If he couldn’t figure out giving himself to her without armor, at least he could be useful for her mission. Falling back on pragmatism was second nature, and easier for him than optimism.

Inej deserved better than he could offer, said unkind voices in his head. And sometimes Jesper’s voice, in angry tones in person, on the rare occasions Kaz visited the mansion. Telling him to stop giving Inej mixed signals. 'Figure your shit out, Kaz.’ He desperately wanted to. Every way he’d examined the problem so far hadn’t helped. It felt as though he’d made no progress. Eventually, he started to think about his issues and the problem of solving them like any other heist. If he could look at it analytically, maybe it would be easier to solve. Emotions and touch were not math, but perhaps they were closer to sleight of hand. He just needed to figure out the trick. How to unlock the frozen things inside of his heart and his mind. There was no magic he couldn’t figure out. Except possibly Inej. She was a magic all her own. A magic that often rendered him speechless, even as it inspired him.

The biggest hurdle that he saw first was touch, and his reactions to it. Maybe if he could unlock touch, the rest of the tumblers would line up and fall into place. Years back, he’d thought a minor flirtation with a girl named Imogen was worth attempting physical contact. It had failed spectacularly, getting him a beatdown when he’d passed out on a job because he wasn’t wearing his gloves. It had even set him back in the Dregs for a bit. After that, he’d doubled down on not letting anyone touch him. He’d given himself over to rage, to violence. Kaz let himself be the monster, and the monster kept him safe. As safe as he could be in the Barrel, at least. He’d stopped thinking of touch, comfort, or flirtations, as options available to him. 

Inej wasn’t simply a flirtation; she was much more important to him. He wouldn’t have been able to explain it to her, or anyone. He couldn’t explain it to himself. But her smile, her approval, her joy, meant more to him than his own existence. Because of this, he was trying again. Opening himself up to the yawning chasm of the harbor full of corpses ready to drown him. With Inej, he’d managed contact without his gloves with mixed results. The day he’d presented her with The Wraith, and met her parents, he’d managed to be bare handed for hours. But on her most recent visit, her touch had sent him into the waters so fast he’d nearly vomited. It was mortifying. She’d left, and though she’d told him to take care of himself, he’d been sure she was disgusted with him. Even now, when he thought of it, his own fear tore at him, dead hands trying to pull him under. But hadn’t he faced and conquered so many of his fears? Would he let this one best him? ‘It’s bested you for half your life’, said an unkind voice. Lying awake at night, he started running through scenarios in his head. Imagining a hundred different ways to conquer this weakness he despised. Examining what had worked for them, and what had triggered his failures. There had to be a rhyme and a reason. A way to trick his body and his brain into being under his own command. There’s no trick I can’t pick apart and learn.

Touching his own dry skin generally wasn’t a problem, but he’d long limited it to necessities. If he concentrated on Inej’s warmth when touching her, he did better. If she was talking, her voice could help ground him, or pull him back out. Cold and wet were bad. He sometimes had issues touching himself when wet, and other people's cool or wet skin was right out. Showers were generally fine, especially as hot as he could stand. Baths were problematic, and he couldn’t tolerate a cold tub of water. When his bad leg refused to go down the stairs for the shower at the Slat, he gave in and used washcloths to clean up. He really ought to spend the damn kruge and get the rest of the hot water taps he’d promised himself installed. There was currently only hot water in the kitchen, and the two showers in the Slat. 

Whenever his bare skin got wet and chilled, he wanted to get warm and dry again, before the revulsion set in. He despised being caught in the rain without layers. Kaz remembered swimming as a kid; he and Jordie used to go down to the creek that bordered one edge of their farm, and cool off in the summers. Ever since Jordie died, Kaz only swam out of necessity. He still had occasional nightmares about the ice river in Djerholm. Coming to, covered in wet clothes, being manhandled by Nina, had been a personal horror. The adrenaline and need to keep moving had kept his issues at bay then, thankfully. 

The main exception to wet skin he’d found was masturbation. He’d learned a long time ago that denying himself release led to untenable discomfort and aggravation. The desires were definitely there, shoved aside, but not negated. He gave himself that pleasure that he refused from anyone else. Often with haste, and it was better with something, like saliva, to reduce friction. His own bodily fluids neatly circumvented the wet skin issue somehow. He could deal with his own blood and more just fine. Kaz had been injured so many times that he’d learned how to stitch and tend to his own wounds, because he often couldn’t stand to have someone else do it. Taking care of himself, be it first aid or masturbating, was often out of sheer need. 

Kaz had, with a fraction of guilt, been picturing Inej sometimes when he sought release. He didn’t want to lust after her in an unseemly fashion, or be at all like the clients who had made her life hell. But Inej featured in his dreams, his fantasies, and in so many of his cravings that it was inescapable. There were other images, other fantasies, but none were as prevalent as Inej. She’d expressed her desire for him in certain words and actions over the last year. Unless he’d completely misread all of her signals, but he was reasonably certain he hadn’t. Kaz knew the mechanics of sex; it was inescapable having grown up on a farm and then in the Barrel. He had an understanding of what he could try to offer up physically, even if he wasn’t there yet. But he hadn’t a clue of what Inej might be able to handle after what she’d been through at the Menagerie. What would make her feel safe, what would make her happy. Realizing that her pleasure was more important to him than his own, he knew he’d want to concentrate on that. He felt the need to tread carefully; the last thing he wanted was to bring up her bad memories. Casual affection was something he wanted to be able to provide. So he set out to build his tolerance for touch and contact in general.

It began slowly. As Kaz undressed before bed, he tried running his bare hands along his torso. At first, it was simple. Fingertips against his ribs, palms smoothed down his sides. Exploring his own scars, of which there were many. When the fear rose like a striking enemy, he tried to face it head on. The phrase, ‘I can best this’, became a mantra of sorts. He practiced giving himself hugs, wrapping his arms around his ribcage. As time went by, he pushed his own limits, kept up the contact until it got to be too much. Some nights, the water came for him all too quickly. Occasionally, he got nauseous or dizzy. Other nights, he could touch from top to tip and back. He discovered he was still ticklish, much to his chagrin. Firm touch was better. He’d been massaging his bad leg for years, but usually through cloth. Now he practiced in the morning on his bare skin, being careful of the scar tissue on his thigh over the old break. 

Eventually, Kaz started imagining Inej’s hands on him. What would it be like, to invite her fingers to his skin? Just her hands on his had been intense. After so many years in the gloves, his hands were incredibly sensitive. It helped with picking locks, dealing cards, and sleight of hand. It also meant the slightest caress of her fingers made his mind misfire and his knees lose all structural integrity. When he thought about her hands touching all of him, uncontrolled, the fear came roaring back. Maybe if he could try being more physical with Inej without her being able to touch him, but that seemed possibly unfair. As upset as he was at his own problems, he was even more worried about Inej. How dare he want to touch her, but not offer to let her do the same? Would she even accept that, after what she’d been through? Wasn’t that keeping some armor in place? He didn’t have the answers, but he needed them. And in the meantime, he would keep practicing, trying to desensitize the reactions that brought the waters and demons of his past forward.

Kaz wouldn’t later be able to pinpoint when the change in his way of private references to Inej had taken place. As much as he refused to lay any claims on her, didn’t want to be possessive of her, in his heart, she was now ‘my Wraith’. Their relationship was intricately interwoven with his life. Even if he hadn’t a clue how to identify what he was to her. Even if she was out at sea more often than not. Even if he refused to entangle her to him. He found when he thought the words ‘my Wraith’, they had a different weight. It was a firm touch, a warm sunbeam after rain, a heavy blanket on a cold night. It was the surety of how he knew he could trust her. Even with his weakness. The calm her voice could bring him. The joy of her laugh. And it was the safest thing he could think of to refer to her as in his head. Not sure what terms of endearment would be triggers for her, what things had been said to her in the Menagerie that might be problematic. Not sure that Kerch terms would go over well. Kaz knew no one would call her ‘Wraith’ like he meant it now. It became synonymous with his caring for her, carrying the value of everything she meant to him. He kept this entirely to himself, not daring to presume out loud. Until they figured out more, until he sorted out his issues, Inej didn’t need to hear him go from calling her an ‘investment' to ‘his’ anything. He did enjoy calling her Captain Ghafa, though. And the light in her eyes when he uttered that honorific stayed with him, even when she sailed off.

Chapter Text

Inej and her crew stopped in Os Kervo for additional supplies, and for her to take an overnight visit with her family’s caravan. They were near the coast, performing for the spring festivals. Mama and Papa wanted her to stay longer, but when she told them of the current hunt for The Vitomir , they understood. All of her family was overjoyed to see her. Some asked when they might meet her friends from Ketterdam. Inej realized the invitation had been extended nearly a year ago, and she’d been so busy with The Wraith and hunting that she hadn’t thought about bringing Jesper, Wylan, or even Kaz to Ravka. She figured that Jes and Wy would likely enjoy the trip, but she wasn’t sure Kaz would want to come. Especially after their last meeting. She was still pondering their combined lack of effective communication. Madhavi must have sensed her broiling thoughts. As they prepared the evening meal together, her Mama asked her how things were faring with her ‘handsome Kerch thief’. Inej didn’t answer at first, adding more force to the carrots she was cutting instead. ‘Meja, please don’t break the cutting board.’

She didn’t spend much time in kitchens, or preparing food, but she was skilled with knives. Inej looked down at the wooden cutting board, and realized her mother might have a point. Unevenly cut carrots lay over some new gauges. ‘I’ll help sand it, Mama... Things are… things are somewhat stalled with Kaz.’ Madhavi asked if she wanted to talk about it. She’d voiced her frustrations to Jesper the night before she left. But Jes had a biased view of Kaz for several reasons. Her parents had only been around him for part of two weeks. She ended up telling her mother about the last few visits. About how Kaz never opened up, or fully answered her questions. 

Madhavi listened, even as she finished preparing the food, taking the carrots over as Inej vented. By the time she’d run out of things to say, dinner was nearly done, and they heard Atima talking outside to his younger brother, Darosh. Madhavi asked her, pointedly, if she was still interested in trying for something with Kaz. ‘Yes, but…’ Her mother interrupted her. ‘Is there anyone else you feel the same way about?’ There wasn’t. Perhaps a few people she found attractive, but there wasn’t anyone that made her feel as safe or excited or passionate or so utterly infuriated like the damn Bastard did. ‘Then maybe wait a little longer, meja. He will figure out eventually you are worth it.’ Before Inej could ask what ‘it’ was, her Papa came in for dinner.

At the central fire later, Kasim asked her if she needed more knives. Inej smiled wickedly, and told him some abbreviated tales of the fates of his previous blades. Quietly, so that little ears wouldn’t hear. They were soon joined by Hanzi, and her new partner Arjun. Then Malik and Jasna, who offered Inej her baby son to hold. Cradling a wee one in her arms, surrounded by her people, she tried to relax into the beautiful night. Inej wasn’t quite as enamored as her aunties at holding a baby, but tiny Sujay was calm and adorable. The talk with  Madhavi had helped her let go of some of her angst about Kaz. The hunt for The Vitomir still preoccupied her thoughts, however. After nearly a year of hunting, she might get the chance to take down the ship that had forever changed her life. Stolen her from the very people around her. 

Asha came up and broke Inej out of her mental wanderings. ‘Cousin, can I rebraid your hair?’ She acquiesced with a nod and a smile, and handed Sujay back to Jasna. Asha’s gentle hands unraveled her simple braid, and wove it into a far more intricate pattern. She explained it as she went. Inej finally relaxed under her cousin’s hands in her hair. The fire, the joy of her family around her, and the stars above, all reminded her to take this night as the calm before the storm. 

When Inej got back to The Wraith the next day, Specht let her know they had confirmation from a local source about sightings of The Vitomir off the coast of Fjerda. The trip towards Fjerdan waters went swiftly with the help of their Squaller, Vlady. Grisha and Zowa were scarce enough that she and Specht had a hard time finding them for the crew. Most they rescued chose to return to their original homeland. Vlady had actually elected to stay with The Wraith rather than go back to war ravaged Ravka. His presence often made the difference in their speed, protection from storms, and in quite a few of their battles. Vlady was tall, broad shouldered, and had eyes as gray as the storm clouds he could control. He was also quick to laugh and joke with everyone. Quite a few of her crew thought he was attractive. While Inej could see it, he certainly wasn’t Kaz. When her mother had asked her if there was anyone else she felt that way about, Vlady had come to mind, but was just as quickly dismissed. Last she’d heard, the Squaller had a fondness for Seile, who currently had little interest in the company of men. Hope he’s as patient with her as I’ve been with Kaz.

As they passed Arkesk, they slowed their pace and started studying the horizon. Inej, Specht, and Kierik went over all of the intel they had on The Vitomir. The crew drilled in attack procedures, checked and double checked equipment, weapons, and more. Their bosun, Kalu, formerly of the Zemeni Navy and expert in cannons, went over firing patterns with his chosen team. Everyone knew what this hunt meant to their captain. The Wraith moved painstakingly up the coast, past Djerholm, searching in every hidden cove and bay. After a week with no sign of The Vitomir, Inej decided to sweep as far north as Elling, where they would do some resupply. While they were docked, Oxana brought out some Fjerdan clothes. With Kierik posing as her husband, they went in search of any intel they could rustle up, as well as fresh water and food stores. The latter was more easily had than the former.

Inej tried not to let her exasperation show when they reported back. At least Tafa was happy with new supplies for the galley. The Wraith worked its way south again. On the night of summer solstice, Inej stood on the deck, under the stars, and sent a prayer to the Saints. Guide us to this ship, if that is your will. I know that I seek revenge for personal reasons, not just to stop these heinous acts. But for this ship, I think you might understand. They were nearly back to Djerholm again when Tajed, their young lookout in the crow’s nest, called out a spark of reflection in the distance. Inej raised a long glass to where he pointed, away from the coastline. Out in deeper water, Inej could just make out a ship that seemed to be anchored. She called out for the crew to change tack, and Vlady set himself to fill their sails. 

She turned her attention to the long glass as they sped over the waves. The ship in the distance was clearer now, and while she couldn’t make out a name, it fit the description they had of The Vitomir. As she watched, the ship burst into activity, and started raising anchor. They must have spotted The Wraith . Inej conferred with Specht, handing him the long glass. ‘Can’t make out the name yet, but they look like they’re making set to run. Are we chasing?’ She answered in the affirmative. Even if the ship wasn’t The Vitomir, it was still acting suspiciously. Specht roused the crew to prepare themselves to engage. Vlady increased his efforts to take them up to the top speed The Wraith could handle. Tajed, well trained by Kierik and Kalu, called down with the other ship’s movements. Specht, long glass in his hand, bellowed in triumph. ‘I can see the name now, Captain. We have our prize in sight!’ At long last, The Vitomir was found.

The Wraith was sleek for a warship, and with Vlady powering their sails, they closed in quickly. Just when it appeared like The Vitomir would keep running, it abruptly turned broadside. Inej threw orders out in rapid succession. Kierik bellowed for everyone to brace as cannons fired on them. None of the first volley hit. Vlady tamped down the wind in their sails, and Specht took over the wheel for maneuvering. The battle was on. Inej felt the now familiar thrum in her blood. It was heightened because of this particular target, and she found herself nearly growling. She wore her own Fabrikated long vest, but she also wore all of her Saints named blades, as well as Kasim’s knives. As she gazed at the deck of The Vitomir, a brief flashback hit her like a falling brick. Rather than a sun streaked day, she was back in a foggy Ketterdam night. Tante Heleen, lifting her skirt, opening her blouse. Poking, prodding, appraising her. Inej’s body, and a year of her life, had been bought on that very deck.

Kierik’s war cry shocked her back to the present. Inej wasn’t sure how long she’d been frozen in that horrible moment, but her rage grew exponentially. This was the ship, there was no doubt in her mind now. The fighting was well underway. Specht had moved them into a more advantageous position, and their guns had better range than The Vitomir’s . It didn’t seem like her crew had noticed her mental absence. They were close enough now that Inej could make out the captain, whose name was Grig Orlov. He appeared familiar, but she clamped her mind into anger rather than letting herself fall into another memory. Above her, Alexi, Seile, and Shiru manned long rifles, picking off slavers firing at them from the enemy ship. Cannon fire was still being exchanged. Vlady was sending powerful gusts of wind to alter the course of cannon balls from The Vitomir that came close to hitting them. Inej noted Orlov calling out orders, and his crew hauling a new weapon onto the deck. Bloody hell! 

Inej called out a warning the moment she recognized the Fjerdan repeating rifle. Fabrikated vests or no, a repeating rifle was a numbers game, and the odds wouldn’t be in their favor. Orlov was taking a risk, as the weapon could do damage to his ship as well as hers. Her crew heeded the warning, and took extra cover. All except Vlady, who got a determined look in his eyes. His hand motions changed, and Inej watched, incredulous. The Squaller managed a blast of air that swung a yardarm directly into the repeating rifle and the two men setting it up. They were all swept directly through the rail and off the deck of The Vitomir . Cheers went up from her crew, and angry shouts sounded from the slavers. 

A single rifle shot sounded out in the split second of silence between the hollering and the next volley of noise and cannon fire. It had come from The Vitomir, not from above. Inej scanned her own ship to see if anyone had been hit. Vlady was down. Saints be with him! His long leather coat was Fabrikated, so hopefully he was just bruised. He’d already saved their crew from the repeating rifle. Inej heard Seile crying out for Lizabet as she returned her attention to the battle. The crew of The Vitomir fought with desperation. They’d known they were targeted by The Wraith, and having been caught, they didn’t seem inclined to surrender yet. Inej wondered if Orlov or his crew would remember her. Or if she’d be just another nameless Suli girl in a long line of people they’d stolen from their families. Alexi whooped in triumph above her as a slaver with a long rifle fell out of The Vitomir’s rigging. They’d taken out the person who’d shot Vlady. 

Inej caught Specht’s attention with a distinct whistle. It was time for them to board the enemy ship and finish this. Her crew knew their roles, and acted swiftly to launch grappling hooks to attack The Vitomir in force. Kierik led the charge once on their deck, his size and war axe providing intimidation to their opponents. Shiru stayed aloft in The Wraith’ s rigging, providing overhead support with her long rifle. Oxana and Alexi operated in stealth to secure any prisoners in The Vitomir’s hold. Inej joined the second wave to flow onto the deck of the slaver ship. Any enemy that wouldn’t submit to capture met an expeditious fate. As more of the slaver crew fell or were subdued, the tide turned in her crew’s favor. Kierik gave a victorious shout, and Inej saw that he had Captain Orlov at axe point against the wall of the forecastle. After that, the rest of the slavers surrendered, and her crew corralled them all to one area of the deck. She recognized a few of the slaver crew; ones who’d taunted her and the other captives in their cells, the two who had hauled her up in front of Tante Heleen. Inej let the recognition feed her fury, rather than let any other problematic memories surface.

Alexi came to her with a report while Oxana stayed in the hold. They’d found a dozen Suli and Ravkan captives in bad condition below. Apparently, The Vitomir had been holding the women and children for longer than usual, as being hunted by The Wraith had made it harder for them to sell their human cargo. Inej’s anger flared. She summoned for Lizabet to be brought over to check out the captives. That was when she got the news from Specht about what had transpired on the deck of The Wraith during the battle. Specht, normally imperturbable, had a catch in his stony voice as he reported that Vlady was dead. Three others had sustained gunshot injuries before Alexi had removed The Vitomir’s last sniper. Lizabet and Seile had tried their best, but Vlady had taken a bullet to the neck, and bled out. When their Medik joined them, hands still covered in the Squaller’s blood, Inej felt something inside her snap. Any leash she might have had on the red hot rage was gone. This ship, its captain, and its crew, had cost her too much already. 

Lizabet appeared haunted. She told Inej that Seile was still with Vlady’s body, and wouldn’t be moved. The other gunshot wounds were all minor, and already being taken care of by other crew who had basic first aid skills. The Medik wanted to wash off the blood before seeing to the captives. Inej heard all of this in a distant fog. Her eyes were trained on Orlov , still held apart from his crew by Kierik. She told Lizabet to clean up and check on the health of the captives in the hold. Specht got various orders, all concerning the welfare of her crew. And then Inej stopped any pretense of being the Captain Ghafa who remembered mercy or duty, and stalked towards the forecastle. Kierik had bound the captain’s wrists behind his back, and had the man pressed to the wall with his axe once again. 

Captain Grig Orlov snickered in contempt at her approach. ‘You little slip of a girl? You’re one we took? And you’re the one everyone is afraid of?’ Kierik pressed the tip of his axe more firmly into the man’s chest with a growl, but Inej held up her hand. Orlov was hers. Her second mate dropped back to the side. Some of her crew was watching, but Inej only saw the slaver captain, and his sneer. She grabbed his coat lapels, yanked forward, and placed her foot in such a way that Orlov stumbled and fell to his knees before her. Sankt Petyr was in her hand without conscious thought. At her request, Jesper had altered her favorite blade, her first knife, and it was now sharp enough to cut through even Fabrikated materials. Orlov’s sneer faded as Inej silently and methodically sliced his captain’s coat from his torso, letting the sleeves fall back over his bound hands. Without a word, she sliced off his shirt next, until both garments lay in pieces. ‘What are you on about, girl? ’ Orlov asked, annoyance mingling with a hint of fear in his voice. Inej only gave a predator smile, showing entirely too many teeth. Kierik muttered quietly, ‘I’d stop calling the Captain ‘girl’ if I were you.’

She paid little heed to any of their words. There wasn’t a thing Orlov or anyone could say at this point that would touch her rage or her determination. She sheathed Sankt Petyr. For what came next, Saints would not do. Kasim’s knives, on the other hand… this is why she had them. A sharpened throwing knife in each hand, Inej knicked Orlov’s flank. It was the first place she’d received a mark from Tante Heleen. Utterly silent, she placed wounds, and sometimes knives, in each place she had a scar from her time in the Menagerie. Some she couldn’t recreate with his anatomy, so she made do with what was available. She left the knives she inserted in place so he wouldn’t bleed out too soon. Dimly aware that her crew was shifting, gasping, reacting viscerally with every one of Orlov’s screams, she simply wiped the excess blood from her hands and continued. When the captain began brokenly begging her, calling on the Saints, Inej spoke for the first time. ‘No one answered prayers to the Saints in the Menagerie. No one is answering your pleas now.’

Orlov was weeping openly. Inej was out of scars to mimic. Her rage wanted more blood, but some internal part of her was protesting loudly now. Not one of her crew had said anything loud enough for her to register since Kierik had given his warning to the captain. Lizabet approached her from the other side. In a firm voice, she asked, ‘Captain, might I suggest one final cut?’ Inej turned to the Medik, her friend and confidant. The one who’d sat with her through the aftermath of every rage, every kill as Captain Ghafa. The only person here who might recognize the distinct wound pattern Inej had inflicted. Lizabet was suggesting another cut? Inej arched an eyebrow in a silent question. The Medik spoke then, in a tone that communicated her own ire, loud enough to carry. ‘This captain’s orders, his very voice, is what stole a year of your life. Stole countless other lives. His words kept the captives I just tended to in misery for months. Cut his throat, Captain. End his voice and his life forever.’

Inej nodded firmly. That was the correct final cut to make. It would give her rage plenty of blood. She pulled out the knife lodged in Orlov’s thigh, and showed it to him as she raised it to his neck. ‘Make your peace with the Saints.’ As she said the words, the part of her that had been protesting thought that she might never make her own peace with them after today. She ignored that part as she sliced through Orlov’s carotid artery and voice box. After everything else, Orlov went silently. There wasn't much of an option. Inej stepped back as the body fell forward in a splash of blood. Kierik and Lizabet were the closest, and the only ones who heard Inej whisper, ‘Saints forgive me.’

Captain Orlov’s body, and those of his crew that had died, went over the side of The Vitomir without ceremony. Once the blood had been cleared, the captives from the hold were brought up, and replaced with the surviving slavers. Specht took over the clean up commands. Inej and Lizabet escorted the women and children over to The Wraith . They were checked over again, fed, and given warm blankets. Kierik went into caretaker mode, and it was always a bit of a shock to see the change from his battle self. Her crew set about the tasks of securing both ships at anchor, and settling things to be safe overnight. Specht approached her as she came back up on deck on The Wraith. He told her in a somber tone that they’d been unable to tend to Vlady’s body. When Inej asked why, he pointed and explained.

She made her way to Seile, still sitting by Vlady’s lifeless form. No one had been able to move them. Seile had threatened the last attempt with a pistol. Inej sat on the other side of the Squaller, silent at first. In all of her times trying to help Seile work through her trauma, Inej knew that the Kaelish woman didn’t always answer direct questions well. Kind of like someone else I know. The two women spent quiet minutes seated, as the crew moved around them, giving them a wide berth. Eventually, Seile cleared her throat. ‘Vlady… he’s the first person I even found attractive after… you know… he is… he was… he didn’t push… he just told me how beautiful I was… how much he admired my strength… And now I’ll never know what could have been.’ Seile collapsed across Vlady’s torso with a wail of anguish. Inej bent and wrapped her arms over the weeping form of her crew member and friend.

‘We need to send his body to the wind and the waves, Seile. Keeping it here won’t bring him back.’ She said it as gently as she could muster. There was still anger lingering in her, but there was also weariness, regret, and a dark guilt trying to take the forefront. The Kaelish woman sniffed, wiping her face as she slipped from Inej’s arms and sat up. ‘I know. I just wasn’t ready yet.’ Inej thought of Nina then, leaned over Matthias’ body when he’d died in Ketterdam. The amount of deaths she’d witnessed, for good or for ill, weighed on her as she stood and offered a hand up to Seile. 

As Inej guided her away, Specht gave a near silent order for Vlady’s body to be prepared for burial at sea. The Squaller had no living family in Ravka; they’d been in Novo-Kribirsk when the Darkling had expanded the Fold. Once in her cabin, Inej sat Seile down, and offered her a drink. She refused, but Inej poured herself a shot of kvas and threw it back. Waiting to see if perhaps the Kaelish woman had anything else she wanted to say, Inej took some time to strip out of her blood soaked clothes and wash up. It helped her feel physically better, at least. Once she’d redressed, she offered Seile a warm washcloth, which was quietly accepted. Inej added it to her laundry when the other woman was done cleaning up. As Seile began murmuring about Vlady, Inej sat and listened. 

Though Seile hadn’t been ready to act on anything physical with the Squaller, she’d apparently found his polite affection appealing. She mourned what would never be with a quiet desperation. Inej saw herself in that despair. If something happened to Kaz before they had a chance to figure out what was possible for them, how would she react? Much like Seile, I think. The Bastard of the Barrel had no end of enemies, and made new ones regularly. Even Inej’s enemies might target him, should the extent of their connection ever be exposed. He worried about her safety, and she fretted for his. But these are the lives we chose to lead. Pushing the worry away, she tried to focus on the present. And not a ‘what if’ that she dreaded with every fiber of her being. She didn’t know what to say to assuage Seile’s grief, but she could witness it, sit with her through it. 

There was a knock at the door. Lizabet wondered if they would like company. Inej invited her in, and offered up a drink. Lizabet grabbed a larger glass and poured herself a generous amount of kvas to sip. Inej was glad she wasn’t alone with her thoughts or her conscience. Lizabet gave her an update on their wounded and more. Everyone was doing alright. She’d conferred with Specht before coming to Inej’s cabin. Vlady’s body was ready for a sunset burial. Both ships were secured, and being readied for a dual voyage down the coast. There was a bounty from Ravka for The Vitomir and its crew, and they could collect in Os Kervo. The Wraith would need to make a side trip into Djerholm for more supplies first, however. There were a few hours until sunset, and none of them felt like leaving Inej’s cabin at the moment.

Lizabet studied Seile. Inej knew how shrewd their Medik was, how keen an eye she had for the weight of one’s soul, and was glad Lizabet wasn’t looking at her yet. The Kerch woman started into a story, of when Vlady first joined the crew. How he’d been unused to the freedom of being on their ship, as opposed to the structure of the Little Palace, or being a prisoner. The Squaller had asked Lizabet who he needed to impress most to stay in good graces with the crew. She’d told him ‘everyone’, and he’d laughed. The crew had been so overjoyed to have a Squaller among their ranks, he hadn’t needed to work hard. Inej followed that with a story about Vlady hiding below decks the first time they’d docked at Os Kervo after he joined them. He didn’t want to be spotted and dragged back into service in Ravka. Inej had reminded him that he wasn’t wearing a kefta, and was less likely to be noticed. He’d reminded her terribly of Jesper when he’d responded, ‘With this face? Captain, I’ll definitely be recognized.’ Vlady had hidden every time they docked in Ravka.

Seile spoke up then, and told them about Vlady’s kindness. How he spoke softly around her, and always made sure she knew he was approaching. The Squaller knew enough of her history to take his care. He’d only recently begun flirting with her, gently, and with no pressure. When Seile’s tears started flowing again, Lizabet and Inej curled around her from either side. They all let the tears come then. Inej knew it was better to get it out here, in this space, rather than in front of her entire crew when the time came for her to speak over Vlady’s body. They’d lost several other crew members in the last year. The first, killed on their second hunt, Inej had barely known. The next few hit her harder, as she’d known and commanded each for longer. Their charming Squaller had saved them all from various calamities, including just before he’d been shot. Seeing Seile’s anguish only heightened her sense of loss. 

Too many deaths. But they’d saved a dozen lives today, and stopped The Vitomir forever, Inej reminded herself. She tried not to think too much about her actions this afternoon. Or how much blood there had been on the deck. How many of Kasim’s knives had sunk with Orlov’s body. Her blood soaked clothes that lay crumpled in a laundry bag, a few feet from where they sat. The captain’s screams and sobbed pleading played over in her mind. She’d been so silent, so driven by her revenge. Inej must have made some noise in the present, because Lizabet brushed her shoulder, and shot her a meaningful look over Seile’s back. She knew they’d be having a conversation later. 

As the Medik soothed Seile, Inej thought over what Lizabet had said on the deck of The Vitomir. The suggestion of the final cut was justice. Now, though, with her head clear of the rage that had blanked out rational thought, she realized Lizabet had also guided her to mercy in the one way she’d listen. Ultimately, the Medik had stopped her from going much further down the road of torture as a means in itself. Her revenge on Orlov had been more visceral than anything Kaz or she had done to Pekka Rollins or Tante Heleen. Both were experiencing a slow torture, death by a thousand annoyances and fears. Orlov had known far faster terror in the form of a silent, predatory Inej. Perhaps the Wraith was more bloodthirsty than Dirtyhands after all. Would the Saints forgive her this act of vengeance? She didn’t have that answer at this moment, and she had to get ready to send Vlady on to the making at the heart of the world. 

As the sun began to set, all of The Wraith’s crew gathered on the decks of both ships. Kalu took out his bosun’s whistle, and called Still. Specht and Kierik, with the help of four others, carried Vlady’s sailcloth wrapped body to the center deck where all could see. Inej knew their Squaller had been well prepared to meet his end in battle, but surely none of them had expected it to be this soon. Normally she was a quiet person, but for this, she projected her voice across the water. She spoke of Vlady’s sense of humor and his easy smiles. His sense of duty to their mission. How he’d prevented them from potential injury as his last act. Asking the Saints to watch for him on the wind, to bring him swiftly to whatever lay next before him, Inej then inquired if anyone else wanted to speak. Seile, standing with Lizabet, clutched her arms around herself, but nodded. When the Kaelish woman stepped up, she was shaky. Her addition was short and heart wrenching. She repeated some of what she’d said in Inej’s cabin. About Vlady’s kindness, his polite deference; for all of his joking, he knew when to be considerate. Seile ended with, ‘I’ll miss him. Miss the chance I didn’t take.’ 

Many of the crew nodded, some with shining eyes. Lizabet folded a weeping Seile into her arms. Specht came forward then. He spoke of Vlady’s skill with the wind, and how easily the Grisha had worked with the crew. ‘Never one to hold his abilities as something that made him better than anyone else.’ And so it went. A few others said their peace, and their farewells. When the time came to give Vlady to the True Sea, Kalu called Pipe Ashore to mark the departure from duty. The Wraith’s crew gave their various prayers and signs. There were many faiths and practices represented, and all marked their respect for their fallen comrade. Inej listened as she moved amongst her crew on deck. More stories were being shared, as well as flasks and bottles. Her crew would take tonight to both mourn Vlady, and celebrate their victory.  She knew them well enough to know there’d be responsible ones staying sober to maintain both ships, and get them underway in the morning. 

Inej checked in with the three wounded, and then went below to see how their rescued women and children were faring. They were grateful, if a bit overwhelmed. After speaking with them in Ravkan and Suli, she learned a bit more of how horrid their last two months had been. Part of her was wondering if she'd tortured Orlov long enough; another was torturing her with the useless thought that if they’d only found The Vitomir faster, she could have saved these people sooner. Sighing with emotion and exhaustion, she made her way to her cabin. Lizabet was waiting outside her door. No escaping this conversation. Inej waved their Medik in before her, and then shut the door. While Inej lit her lamps, Lizabet poured herself another generous glass of kvas.

‘You’re probably thinking I want to ask you about what happened with Orlov. And you’d be right. But first… I’m going to ask if I can unburden myself?’ Her quiet sorrow and her question caught Inej off guard. Lizabet, much like Specht, often seemed unflappable. The two made quite the support team for their captain, and she wondered sometimes if there was more to their relationship than friendship and good natured flirting. She knew they spent time together after Specht’s turn on watch many nights, but she hadn’t wanted to pry. Figuring if Lizabet or Specht wanted her to know, she’d know, she left it alone. 

Inej nodded solemnly to Lizabet, ‘Of course.’ The Kerch woman sat on Inej’s bed. ‘I’ve never regretted not being Grisha more than today. There was nothing, not a thing I could do, to save him. The bullet hit just below his carotid artery… He had enough time to say one word to Seile, while she held her hand over his wound and begged me to do something…I tried, but he’d lost too much blood already.’ Lizabet had tears streaming down her face. Inej listened, bearing witness as she had for Seile. ‘Beautiful. That’s what he said to her. Saints have mercy.’ The amount of despair that Seile had shown made even more sense now. Inej knew the Kaelish woman was still healing from her time in the Sweet Shop, and today would surely set her back. Again, Inej thought of Kaz, and how she’d respond if she found him mortally wounded. Would he let her help him, as he’d helped her back at Fifth Harbor? Or would he hate being weak in front of her? Before she got too frustrated with those thoughts, she shoved them aside once more. Lizabet needed her present.

‘You’re an excellent Medik, and you know that. Even a Grisha Healer might have had trouble with his wound’ Lizabet sighed, sipped her kvas, and explained that knowing those things didn’t make it any easier. She’d lost patients before, including on this crew, but today seemed to hit her harder than most. Seeing Seile’s grief had perhaps been harder still. For both of us, I think. Lizabet grimaced as she finished her drink. 

Before the Medik could start, Inej offered up an opening to where she knew the conversation would be heading. ‘Thank you, by the way, for finding the right thing to say to me this afternoon.’ Lizabet gave a dark and knowing smirk. She’d seen how deeply sunk in rage and revenge Inej had been. After a year of conversations, confessions, and counseling, Lizabet knew a lot of how her captain’s mind worked. Unfortunately, Inej had gone further down a path of violence than even she’d thought herself capable. And she wasn’t sure the Saints would forgive her actions. When she voiced this, Lizabet shook her head.

‘I don’t think it’s the Saints you need to concern yourself with. I think you need to be able to forgive yourself for what you did today. And that might be harder.’ Inej stared, opened her mouth to respond, and then shut it again without saying a word. All the praying in the world wouldn’t matter if she couldn’t forgive herself. In the moment, engulfed in anger, every wound she’d dealt Orlov had seemed necessary. Mimicking all of her Menagerie scars had been the only course of action that fed her need for vengeance. Ignoring his screams had been perfunctory. She hadn’t been channeling Dirtyhands, she’d been herself. Cold, silent, and full of wrath. The Wraith, the Scourge of the True Sea, the Sankta of Death. 

Inej looked down at her hands. She’d washed all the blood off. Surely she had. But how much blood had she shed in the name of justice now? In the name of revenge? Was it more than Kaz? Inej had been the one to shed Pekka’s blood, not Kaz. Orlov had seen the worst of her, but this wasn’t the first time her rage at a slaver had resulted in blood on her hands, her clothes, the deck of a ship. And what of Vlady’s blood? Of their other lost crew members? Their wounded? Did the difference that The Wraith was making in the slave trade outweigh all the bloodshed?

Out of all those questions, it was the last one she said aloud to Lizabet. ‘We’ve rescued scores more than we’ve lost. Scores more than we’ve killed. Think about every child we’ve returned to their families. Every person we’ve returned to their homelands. Every soul we’ve stopped from being delivered to a brothel.’ Inej knew Lizabet was right, but the guilt was heavy ballast. It might take some time to make peace with what she’d done today. In the meantime, they were both exhausted. She thanked Lizabet for the conversation, her valid points, and her continued friendship. The Medik asked, ‘How about we pray for a lack of nightmares tonight?’ Inej agreed with a nod. After Lizabet left, sleep wouldn’t come. 

Suppose I can’t have nightmares if I can’t even get to sleep. Instead, she lit a lamp once more, and sat at her desk. Taking out some parchment, she penned carefully crafted letters for her parents, Jes, Wy, and Marya, and Kaz. She glossed over quite a few details, but mentioned that they’d succeeded in their hunt for ‘The Original Courier’, the codename she’d assigned The Vitomir. These would go out from Os Kervo. Inej wasn’t sure of what their plans after reaching the Ravkan port would be. Ostensibly, they’d return to Ketterdam. But with her heart heavy, and her head unsettled, it was hard to look that far ahead. She turned down the lamp, and went through some stretches in the dark, in an attempt to find a more restful state. When the sleep she sought finally arrived, it was blessedly nightmare free for once. 

On the voyage down the coast, Inej fought with her conscience. Helping Lizabet and Meyer tend to the rescued women and children helped ease her mind in the moment. But each night, guilt and regret snuck into her waking and dreaming mind. The memory of Orlov’s blood, of Vlady’s lifeless form, of Seile’s grief, all crowded in, unwelcome. Her mind chased horrid spirals. The thought of returning to Ketterdam or to Ravka, of telling her friends or her family exactly what she’d done, haunted her. The more immediate concern, of what to report to the authorities in Os Kervo, was being handled by Specht and Kierik. For that, she was grateful. What was left of the crew of The Vitomir would be handed over for justice, with a dozen witnesses to their crimes. The slaver crew had been unable to see her treatment of their captain, even if they’d heard it. Specht had somehow known that he should corral them out of sight from where Kierik had Orlov. Inej would stay aboard The Wraith, just in case, however. It had become their standard practice that most of the authorities never actually met Captain Ghafa. It kept her safer, and added to her myth. 

Inej and Lizabet had a few more conversations, sometimes over kvas, or the sweet, medicinal honey wine that the Medik kept on hand. Lizabet listened patiently, as Inej poured out her remorse, and discussed the newest development. They had a far more concrete link to a member of the Merchant Council in Ketterdam now. After questioning the slaver crew, and pouring through the records seized from Captain Orlov’s cabin, Specht and Inej had found the connection. She and Kaz had long suspected two specific Merchant Council members were involved with the slave trade, and had been putting together intel for the past year. Orlov had signed contracts from a holding company in Kerch. At one point, Kaz had provided information tying that same holding company to Councilman Van Verent. Inej was closer than ever to taking down a member of the Merchant Council, one who had directly profited from her own misery. Unlike her dealing with Captain Orlov, however, she needed to move with far greater caution, and more concrete proof. And less torture. She’d let her rage get completely away from her, and killed someone who might have been able to testify against Van Verent. That knowledge prompted her current conversation with Lizabet. 

The Medik counseled, ‘Ultimately, you have to decide how much farther you need to go, in terms of revenge versus justice.’ Inej’s answer was that she would rather lean towards justice. In the long term, it would serve more people, get them closer to ending the slavery pipeline. And it would be easier for her conscience to handle. She resolved to try and forgive herself what had happened with Captain Orlov on The Vitomir. To move forward with greater care, and more patience. They would find living ties to Councilman Van Verent that would be willing to testify, and she could start dismantling the parts of Kerch’s Merchant Council that profited off of misery.

Chapter Text

Kaz couldn’t have been prouder of Inej as she told him of her biggest victory. It had taken a year of her hunting, of both of them gathering information, but the last intel he’d given her had been the final puzzle piece. The Wraith had caught up to The Vitomir this summer. They sat in his private attic office, Inej on the couch, and Kaz in his desk chair. His bad leg had been aching fiercely for days as summer storms rolled across Kerch. He would have preferred the comfort of the couch, but after the last incident of nausea when he’d tried to hold her hand, he was being cautious. Inej hadn’t said anything about the seating arrangement. Kaz started asking her questions right away, because he knew only part of the story from her careful letter. She told him of how they’d found the wily ship, the battle, and its aftermath. About her crew that had been injured, and the one crew member they’d lost. How she’d felt when she’d recognized the captain and some of the crew. The women and children they’d rescued from the hold. The justice she’d meted out personally. 

He could tell she was leaving something out when she talked about Captain Orlov, but he didn’t press the issue. Kaz had come to realize that Inej was the only person he wouldn't hound for the full truth. Some part of him was grateful it had taken her as long as it had to find The Vitomir. He wasn’t sure she would have been able to handle this hunt when she’d first started last year. Inej and he tackled their approaches to vengeance in different ways. And he could tell, by the way she spoke, that seeing the ship that had taken her had triggered a deep rage. She simply said that the captain of The Vitomir had found justice off the Fjerdan coast, with her cousin's knives buried in him.

Inej related all of this with a gleam in her eyes, and he was engrossed. It seemed as though his Wraith had perhaps found some closure for herself, in taking down this ship. Before he could wonder if she’d take a break from hunting for a while, she asked after intel on Councilman Van Verent. Some of the crew of The Vitomir had apparently implicated the mercher as one of the people profiting from their sales of ‘indentures’ in Ketterdam. Plus, they’d found records implicating one of Van Verent’s holding companies in Captain Orlov’s papers. Kaz recognized the drive in her voice; he’d heard it in his own often enough. Inej would not be stopping any time soon, closure or not. He rose and went to his safe, fetching her the folder with all of the most recent information he had on Merchant Council members. She kept her fingers from touching his as he handed it over. He noted the absence of her reaching out. Perhaps their last visit had made both of them cautious. ‘About last time…’ he began, attempting to figure out an explanation that might help.

She inhaled loudly, and interrupted him. ‘You could just talk to me, you know. Tell me what goes on in your head. Open up to me.’ Kaz flinched. He couldn’t figure out how to do any of those things. Even with all of his practicing touch, he was still too nervous to reach out for her at the moment. Inej was looking up at him, and he was standing frozen. Get your shit together, Brekker, said several voices in his mind. How could he explain what went on in his head? He didn’t even feel in control of it at times. Forcing himself to speak, he replied, ‘I don’t know that I can, currently…’ and then wanted to kick himself when he saw her reaction. The anger and disappointment was more than he could bear. She stood abruptly. ‘Well, then, let me know when you can.’ As she stalked away, he turned and said her name quietly.

Paused at the window, Inej stared at him. Was there anything he could say that would fix this? That would help? If there was, his brain wasn’t letting him have it. So he did something he almost never allowed himself. He apologized. In a rough whisper, he let the words ‘I’m sorry.’ fall from his mouth. She looked astounded, then pursed her lips. ‘I suppose that’s a start.’ And she moved out onto the roof. Kaz watched her go, heart heavy and mind flailing. He’d tried. How did he keep failing at this? Unkind voices provided him entirely too many reasons in a cacophony. He slumped down into his desk chair with misery eating at him. Inej had seemed satisfied, and then he went and fucked it up. Again. He could sweet talk his way into half a dozen deals before lunch, outperform any card dealer in Ketterdam, and steal almost anything he set his sights on, and he couldn’t fucking talk to Inej. Or touch her half the time. Or function like a normal human being in her presence. Who am I kidding, I’m not a normal human being. He debated if it was late enough in the day to get stupidly drunk. There was kvas up here. There wasn’t anywhere he had to be tonight. 

The next few weeks were rough. Kaz didn’t usually drink much. It made him slower, less likely to have fast enough reactions in a fight. It made it harder to stay aloof. Far harder to keep his armor up. It did help with pain, though. In his bad leg. In his heart. It didn’t always quiet his mind, but it did sometimes make his own voice louder than the unkind ones. He tried to be numb, and that failed. There was too much to feel, and sometimes, he resented it. Kaz did keep to his routine to practice touch resolutely. Even though hope felt like a cage, it was still there under the inebriation. So he went through the motions, running his hands along his own skin. Some nights, he contemplated finding a fight to get into instead. He realized he should be sparring more, but he didn’t trust himself to not hurt his sparring partners when he was in this kind of mood. 

Other nights, he took his cock in hand roughly, punishing himself even as he sought out pleasure. A few times, he found himself imagining it was Inej, taking out her frustrations on him. Hurting him physically for how he kept hurting her emotionally. He knew she could be cruel to the slavers. Would she ever lose her patience, and be cruel to him? Or would she just disappear, give up on him completely? Stop waiting on him to figure out his shit. Brandy, whiskey, and kvas didn’t seem to be helping with that. It didn’t stop him from drinking, however. He found out from one of his runners that The Wraith had disembarked from Berth 22. Inej hadn’t told him when she was leaving. Maybe this was her disappearing? It was the first time she’d left Ketterdam without even giving him a chance to see her off. Kaz sank further into despair, and into bottles that granted him temporary solace.

One night, on his way back to the Slat from the Silver Six, he was jumped by three rather brazen Black Tips newbies. They were probably trying to prove themselves to Elzinger, who’d taken over when Geels had been shot in a turf scuffle with the Razorgulls. Kaz had downed a few shots at the club. Possibly more than a few. The first skiv managed to sink a dagger directly into Kaz’s gut before he could block the blow. ‘I skewered the Bastard!’ The pain shocked him aware enough to react to the second and third attackers in time. Then Kaz was engaged with all three Black Tips, his cane whirling. And blood oozing down his left side around the dagger. This is why you don’t drink, you podge. He blocked another blow aimed at his head. He’d been trusting his reputation and power to protect him, rather than being vigilant. The skiv who’d stuck the dagger in him managed a strike to his bad leg. Kaz stumbled as his vision went white for a second. Walking home drunk in the fucking Barrel. The fuck is wrong with you? He blocked a few more hits, but he was slowing down from pain, blood loss, and the liquor in his system. Fucking podge. Dumber than a pigeon. Are you too drunk to be Dirtyhands? Voices in his head joined the grunts and jeers of the fight. 

The assailant behind him realized Kaz had his right side open again while the other two attacked his left. Another blow to his bad leg found him gritting his teeth, and biting back a scream. It also ignited rage hot enough to burn away some of the fog in his head. Bloody Black Tips. His cane swung up and back to his right, and he rendered that attacker unconscious with a strike to the temple. Now these two fucks. Ignoring the wave of dizziness and nausea, and an entire symphony of pain, Kaz squared off with the remaining attackers. Perhaps they’d seen the change come over his face, but now they hesitated. Just long enough for Kaz to catch up. He smacked a newly drawn pistol out of one’s hand, and then leveled that swing directly into the other’s groin. Serves you right, sticking me with a fucking dagger. The pistol wielder experienced a cane blow to the skull while his compatriot was doubled over. Kaz turned to the man clutching his crotch, and grunted, ‘I’d give you your dagger back, but it’s serving as a cork at the moment.’ Instead, Kaz gave him an oyster knife to the jugular. It occurred to him he was so drunk he hadn’t even thought of drawing his own pistol. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath and his bearings.

Pim found Kaz leaned up against a wall, one dead and two unconscious Black Tips sprawled around him. ‘Boss, you okay?’ Kaz found himself smirking, woozy from blood loss, and still possibly drunk. He turned towards Pim, revealing his left side. ‘Yeah, fucking peachy, Pim… Maybe get me a Saints damned Medik or a Healer before we take this dagger out?’ Pim gaped at him, mouth opening and closing, and then ran back towards the Silver Six to get help. Kaz glanced down. 

His entire left side below the dagger was soaked in blood. Fuck. This suit might be done for. I really need more Fabrikated waistcoats. He was going to need to have a conversation with Elzinger and his lieutenants. One that included a suitable level of violence to prevent this kind of stupidity. Attacking me on my own turf is unacceptable. Even if I was dumb enough to be drunk. Am drunk. Fuck. He found his thoughts starting to be somewhat less coherent. Then he found he was sitting on the ground, back to the wall, cane in his lap. The world can stop spinning now. The two living Black Tips were fortunately still out cold. If either woke up, you'd be a dead Bastard. Then he heard voices that weren’t in his mind. Pim was back, with a whole bunch of other Dregs, and a litter. Oh, this is ridiculous. 

Kaz realized, ridiculous as it might be, it was necessary. He couldn’t stand on his own, and his vision kept going fuzzy. Did I get hit in the head? They were going to have to touch him to put him on the litter. Bloody Saints. He braced himself as two younger Dregs with wide eyes put the litter next to him as others kicked the downed Black Tips out of the way. ‘Haul them all to Black Tips territory, and let Elzinger know what his idiot skivs did,’ Kaz ordered, 'And get my oyster knife back.' Pim and Keeg nodded. He thought he sounded particularly cranky, but at least he’d managed to give an order. Jeter came panting up. ‘Got a Healer coming to the Slat, Boss.’ Kaz glanced at the litter and the two youngsters eyeing him nervously. He motioned for them to start. Oh fuck me! Fighting back the wave of nausea, he actually welcomed the next crash of pain that hit when one of them grabbed his legs. It was a much needed distraction. Then he was on the litter, and being carried back to the Slat. 

He lost time as they worked their way through the Barrel. He’d blink and they’d be on a different block. Coming to again in the Slat, laid out on two tables placed together, Kaz damn near punched the Grisha Healer they’d found. She was a bit older than him, but still young and attractive, and her grim smile reminded him of Inej and Nina both. ‘You will hold still, Mister Brekker, or I can’t get this dagger out safely.’ He grunted, and lowered his fists. ‘Do I need to put you back out?’ That was probably for the best. Kaz nodded, and then succumbed to darkness.

‘The dagger sliced through his intestines and his left colic artery. He lost a lot of blood. Your boss is lucky you found him when you did. He fought off three men with this dagger in him?’ Kaz fought his way to the surface as voices swirled around him. Pim said ‘yes’, and he heard others talking. Then the Healer again. ‘I’ve repaired the damage to the internal organs, and sealed up the wound, but he’ll need to rest. There shouldn’t be a chance for infection at this point, but he could cause internal bleeding if moves too much for the next few days.’ Kaz managed to open his eyes, and found the Healer was talking to Anika, Pim, and Keeg. The Dregs that had come to his aid were scattered around the rest of the main room. Jeter was the closest one, looking worried. Jeter often looked worried, but the expression was intensified tonight. Kaz was naked to the waist, and felt a lot of ways about that. Vulnerable was not a thing he wanted to be in front of his crew. He wondered if they’d cut off his waistcoat, dress shirt, and undershirt. He liked that waistcoat, even if it wasn’t knife proof. What a stupid thing to worry about. 

They all noticed him sit up, in part because it caused an involuntary grunt of pain. The Healer glared at him, and Kaz glared back. Before she could reprimand him, he rasped, ‘Is going up stairs too much movement?’ He’d be damned if he’d be stuck on the first floor of the Slat for a few days. And he desperately wanted some privacy. She shook her head, but replied, ‘If you take it slow. And don’t bend too much. And no heavy meals. That thing did a lot of damage.’ She pointed to the table next to him. 

That was when he saw the size of the dagger that had been embedded in his guts. He nearly passed out again. Over ten inches of blood covered blade shone on the dark wood of the table. Oh. That might explain the blood loss. Fuck. It was by far the largest blade he'd ever been stabbed with. It had been buried to the hilt. He was a bit amazed it hadn't gone through to the back. Or cut his spine. Glancing down at his stomach, he found a new red scar, puckered and raised, nearly two inches wide. Bloody Saints. If they hadn't found a Grisha Healer, this slip up would likely have ended him. Kaz met the Healer's eyes again. 'What's your name, and what do I owe you?' She gave his lieutenants a stern look, and they all backed away. Interesting. 

Coming right up to him, but not touching him, she leaned in. 'Arika Milenko. Friend of the old gang Medik, Lizabet Horne. And you can make a donation to my clinic in Little Ravka. A lot of your Dregs come to me for reproductive care.' Arika said the last sentence low enough for only him to hear. What? He had a whole host of questions but now was not the time or place. It occurred to him he’d just been saved by someone who knew Inej’s ship’s Medik. And who treated a lot of his crew. He really needed to keep his current condition quiet, just in case Elzinger or anyone else tried to take advantage. In the same low volume, he said, 'I'd appreciate your discretion on how badly I was injured. My donation will reflect that.' Arika grinned at him, and this time, it reminded him of Jesper. 'What injury? I'll come back in two days to check on you, if that's alright. Try to rest.'  He inclined his head in assent.

Kaz discovered he admired the Healer’s absolute confidence in the face of one aggravated, injured Bastard. Arika was already moving away. Jeter and Keeg walked with her, and Kaz was glad they seemed to be ready to escort her back to Little Ravka at this time of night. He would have ordered that if his head wasn’t still a bit foggy. Anika and Pim approached him. Pim reported, ‘The Black Tips got delivered with the message, Boss.’ Then Anika asked, ‘Can we get you anything?’ Kaz just barely kept himself from growling at her. Fuck, they’re all going to want to take care of me. He grudgingly admitted to himself that he was actually going to need some taking care of. Damnit. Kaz thought through the next steps. Get upstairs. Take off the rest of his bloody clothes. Wash up. Rest. Surely, he could manage all of that by himself. Flexing his legs, he found the bad leg was shooting daggers of its own into him. Handling the stairs was going to be painful. He could tolerate them bringing him food. Looking at both Anika and Pim, he replied, ‘Breakfast in the morning. Probably meals after that. Keep me informed of every rumor on the streets. Not a word leaves the Dregs on how bad this was. And nobody comes into my rooms upstairs without knocking.’

With that, he reached carefully for his cane, which lay to the right of the huge dagger on the table next to him. The stretch across his guts had him biting back a few choice curses. He would not show any further weakness in front of his crew. Standing upright wasn’t too bad, mostly because he just swiveled his legs around and down. He picked up the dagger, and offered it over to Pim. ‘Have this sucker cleaned and framed for my office.’ Pim snorted. ‘Sure, Boss.’ The walk to the stairs gave him a smidgeon of confidence, because he managed not to sway or fall on his face. The younger Dregs were all watching him with awed expressions. It wasn’t every day you watched your terrifying boss survive getting skewered with a dagger nearly the length of his forearm. Kaz started up the stairs. Taking it slow was the only way he was getting up them. Using the bad leg to step up was not happening. One hand on his cane, the other on the bannister, he hauled himself up. All the way to the attic, one step at a time, pain shooting through him with every one, was not an experience he wanted to repeat ever again. Why the fuck do I choose to live in the attic? 

By the time he got to his private office door, sweat was sheeting down his torso, and he was panting and wheezing. Incredibly glad no one could see him now, he closed the door behind him. He wanted to fall down there. Not an option. Keep moving. The sweat cooling on his skin had him feeling clammy and nauseous. He thought about locking the private office, but it would be easier for his crew to deliver meals, and mean less movement for him, if he left it unlocked. He did lock his bedroom door once he’d made it that far. After resting for a few minutes. Note to me, don’t lose that much blood. Or, don’t get drunk and then stabbed. Or both, probably. 

Sitting gingerly, he stared at his shoes. How to get them off without bending? This is pathetic. It took a bit, but he managed to untie and loosen his shoelaces with his cane. Then he had to peel his pants and underwear off, as the blood had dried. All the fucking Saints. His bad leg and his abdomen protested all the movement. By the time he got naked, he was panting and sweaty again. Fuck me. He moved to the little closet bathroom he had recently arranged to be converted from a simple wash basin. Still need to get hot water up here. When he looked in the mirror, he found a haggard, paler than normal version of himself looking back. You look like shit, Brekker.

Washing up proved difficult to do without bending, as his entire left leg was covered in dried blood. He did the best he could, until he started to get nauseous once more. Fuck. Good enough. There’d been entirely too much touching tonight for him to even contemplate his routine. A muslin nightshirt and new boxers were achieved with grunts of pain. He downed a glass of water, and then refilled it and put it on the bedside table. Exhausted, he settled into his bed on his back. Laying on either side was going to hurt. His brain decided that instead of sleep, he should think about every way he’d fucked up tonight. Even if it came down to getting drunk, and letting his guard down, unkind voices wanted to let him know seventeen different versions. You need to get a hold of yourself, you twit. If his body hadn’t been so drained, he would have gotten out of bed and gone over ledgers just to get his brain to cooperate. Instead, he lay there and did multiplication in his head. Someplace between one hundred and thirty two, and one hundred and forty four, he finally fell asleep. 

The next two days proved entirely frustrating and a bit humiliating. When he woke the first morning after, his stomach was a mass of bruises, and painful beyond belief. His bad leg wasn’t much better. The bruises on the rest of his body from the fight barely registered on his pain scale. He managed to get out of bed, and take care of necessities in the bathroom with gritted teeth. When Meril brought up breakfast, he ordered her to leave it on the work table through his locked bedroom door. He dragged himself out of bed again, and brought his bloody clothes and shoes out into the office. By the time he’d downed the scrambled eggs, he was tired. He went back to bed, and slept until the next knock. At least his brain cooperated and let him sleep this time. Jeter left soup for him, along with his cleaned oyster knife. And so it went. 

He didn’t want anyone to see him like this. For once, he was glad Inej wasn’t currently in Ketterdam. He shied away from thinking about her; he couldn’t stand the mental pain on top of the physical. Fortunately, he was exhausted enough that he kept nodding off between food deliveries. Towards the end of the second day, he didn’t have a choice about having company. Arika was standing outside his bedroom door, asking to see her patient. Kaz made her wait until he’d slipped on some pajama pants and a new nightshirt. Doing so depleted his energy reserve. When he unlocked his bedroom door, she bustled in, and told him he still looked too pale. And there’s the resemblance to Nina again. Were all Corporalki so abrasive? 

Arika asked his permission to examine him, at least, rather than ordering him. He laid back down on his bed after lifting the nightshirt, and braced himself for touch. To his surprise, she didn’t lay her hands on him. Instead, her fingers hovered over his skin. He’d been out when she’d treated him that night, and though he’d experienced a few Grisha Healers before, she was a bit different. Kaz could feel a prickly energy, kind of like heat, wherever her hands came near. Her eyes were closed, but she was humming. As she moved her fingers slowly over him, the hum would change. Sometimes approving, sometimes with a note of concern. Then her hands would still for a moment, though her fingers moved. And the heat would increase. The discomfort in his abdomen slowly eased. After a while, she opened her eyes, and withdrew her hands. ‘That dagger really did a number on your insides. You might have moved around a bit too much, but I expected that. I’ve reknit some things. It should be easier from here on out. Now, how’s the leg?’

Kaz blinked at her. His stomach really felt better. His right leg was still annoyed, with bruising under and around his scars. The Black Tips had managed to hit him in the worst place, twice. Still, he usually didn’t let Healers near his bad leg. He told Arika this. ‘Look. I won’t repair the old damage, if you don’t want that. Not even sure how much I could do. I’m not the best when it comes to that kind of deep work on old injuries. But I can speed the bruising along. Do you want to heal up faster, or keep being in pain?’ Kaz did not, in fact, want to keep being in pain. He’d been through quite enough of that in the last two days. And in the last few weeks, really, but he wasn’t going to tell her that, or let her poke around in his head. He asked Arika if she could work on his leg over the pants. She nodded, and waited. He rolled carefully onto his left side, putting his right leg within her reach. Her hands hovered over his thigh. The humming and the heat started up once more. The new pain in his bad leg faded back a bit. 

‘Damn, this was set horribly. There’s scar tissue in your muscles where the bone cut through. I can imagine how much this hurts. I’m leaving it alone, but if you ever want it worked on, you let me know. In the meantime, I have a good bruise cream that can also ease some of the usual aches you probably have.’ As her hands retreated once more, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The lessened pain in both stomach and leg was a weight lifted off of his chest as well. Arika was rifling through her bag, and pulled out a jar of ivory colored cream. ‘You can use this on your stomach for a bit too. It will help that scar heal up better than some of your others.’ This Healer was a damn miracle, able to heal him without touching him, and not pushing his boundaries about his leg. 

He asked her some of the questions he had from the other night. Kaz learned that she generally specialized in reproductive and sexual health, providing birth control, midwife services, and more. Apparently, many of the Dregs visited her, including those who needed help with their cycles. She’d been fully trained in all healing, but she’d found a niche that needed serving in Ketterdam. Especially with all the brothels and pleasure houses. Her hands off techniques suddenly made more sense. And her respect for boundaries. I wonder if Inej goes to her clinic? He shook off the thought. Thinking of Inej wasn't the best idea around a Corporalki who might notice his heart rate go up. Instead, Kaz asked her what size donation would truly help her clinic. 

Arika tilted her head thoughtfully. ‘Five hundred kruge would have us set for a month.’ He nodded, and then got up with greater ease than he’d laid down. Telling her to come with him, he moved to the private office. He definitely needed his cane, but his leg felt better than it had in days. His head was also clearer than it had been. He noticed his crew had been clearing his plates, had removed his bloody clothes, and cleaned his shoes. Sitting in his desk chair, he bent as gingerly as he could to access his safe. ‘Careful with that! I just reknit your innards. Saints.’ Kaz just snorted. Arika really wasn’t afraid of him. He grabbed out two thousand kruge , and closed the safe back up. When he handed the stack to Arika, her eyes went wide. ‘I appreciate your discretion, and your techniques. Can I call on you as needed?’ The Healer looked from him to the stack of kruge , and back again. ‘If this is how you donate, then yes.’ Kaz nodded, and stood up with help from his cane. He definitely wasn’t back to full strength, but he was breathing and standing easier. 

‘I know you might not listen, but try to take it easy for a few more days? No fights with other gang leaders for like, a week if you can manage it? I mean, I’ll patch you back up again, but seriously. You can take a shower now, too. And start eating more protein. Your guts can handle it after this session. And… maybe do less drinking. I could smell it on you that night.’ Kaz grimaced. He wasn’t sure if she normally rambled like this, but he was amused and annoyed all at once. Assuring her he would hold off on fights for another few days if possible, he walked her to the office door. He didn’t address her other comments. As she headed down the stairs, he thought again of Nina and Jesper. Arika had the energy of Jes and the no nonsense nature of Nina. And she healed me without touching me. Damn. He looked at the clock on the wall across from his work table. Jeter would probably be bringing up dinner soon. I wonder if it’s too late to request steak. He found himself smiling. For the first time in a while. Apparently, living through getting skewered and suddenly being in less pain was a decent mood reset. He opened the office door, and bellowed down the stairs for Jeter. The kid managed to deliver a hearty meal of biefstuk, mashed potatoes and gravy within an hour. 

Kaz braved the trip down a flight of stairs for a luxurious hot shower the next morning. It felt amazing to be completely clean again. He put clean sheets on his bed as well. His healing went much faster after Arika’s visit. The bruise cream proved to be remarkable. It eased the ache in his bad leg, and swiftly cleared up the residual bruises all over. He incorporated it into morning massages on his right leg. Not only did he pick back up his routine for touch, he also did some stretching each night and morning. He’d stiffened up in two days of doing little but sleep and writhe in pain. The attack was a wake up call. As was the fact that Arika had called him out on the liquor. Kaz had been letting himself wallow, getting drunk to distract himself from mental pain. It wasn’t solving anything, and he’d known it. He needed to get back to taking better care of himself, and facing his weaknesses head on. There was also the business of the Barrel to get back to, and the Black Tips needed to be dealt with. He locked every worry about Inej and their last meeting into a mental safe vault until later.

Five days after the attack, he called a meeting with his lieutenants to discuss what he planned for Elzinger and the Black Tips. They’d kept him apprised of all the scuttlebutt in the Barrel. He’d been right on the mark. Three young skivs had decided to try to prove themselves and rise in the ranks. Elzinger, or one of his lieutenants, had put out word that the two survivors had been reprimanded. That was not enough for Kaz, by far. A show of force was needed to remind all of the gangs that incursions on the Dregs’ territories wouldn’t be tolerated. Kaz got properly dressed, and felt immensely better. Making his way down all the stairs was far easier than his trip up after the attack had been. The main room of the Slat was often full in the early afternoon, and so he was met with some whoops and cheers. He scowled at the noisemakers, and they subsided. Many were still smiling, though. Jeter looked markedly less worried for once. Kaz crossed to his main floor office, and noted neat stacks of paperwork waiting.Anika and Pim had brought some of it upstairs for him, but he’d told them to leave last night’s down here. Getting back to something like his normal routine was necessary. When he sat down at his desk, he found that Pim had put the framed dagger above the office door. It was mounted on a blood red velvet background in a black shadow box. Nice touch. Maybe it can serve as a reminder to me to not be that stupid again. He went through paperwork until it was time for his lieutenants to show up. Most of the clubs were doing well, and the Rogues Gallery was rather profitable of late.

During the meeting with Anika, Pim, Keeg, and Rotty, he went over his basic plan for the encounter with the Black Tips leadership. They had a few reservations, but Kaz had already decided that he and the Dregs needed to come down hard on this incursion. He also had intel on Elzinger’s lieutenants that told him they wouldn’t back their boss completely if push came to shove. Elzinger was violent muscle, not intelligent leadership. Kaz was amazed the Black Tips had survived this long with the man in charge. He didn’t intend on a normal parley, and planned to call out Elzinger to meet with him directly, each of them with two seconds. He also had a few other tricks up his sleeves, only some of which he shared during the meeting. ‘Set it up in the Exchange for two nights from now.’ Rotty had the temerity to ask if the timing was a good idea, and then shut his mouth when Kaz lifted an eyebrow at him. Even Anika and Pim turned to stare at him. Keeg rolled his eyes, and muttered, ‘Stop being a nervous granny.’ 

Two nights later, Kaz had everything in place. Rather grateful he was feeling nearly back to full health, he moved towards the Exchange with Anika and Pim. Boe and Nico were in step behind them, and would be waiting outside. Keeg, Nils, and Omar were hidden nearby, just in case they were needed. He was unsurprised to see Elzinger had brought Marius and Radka as his seconds. Lukas and Cato were there as well. Good. Exactly who I expected out in the open. He wondered how many Black Tips were in hiding. The usual pat down for weapons went smoothly. No one dared question Kaz’s cane at this point, even if everyone knew it was a weapon. Elzinger was already blustering as they moved into the square. Kaz ignored it, biding his time until they stood in the appointed place. He waited for quiet. When it came, he stated his case simply, ‘You don’t have full control over the Black Tips, Elzinger. That needs to be remedied. You will get this warning exactly once. Take better care in controlling your crew, or the Dregs will do it for you.’  

The Black Tips boss immediately started loudly shouting about how Kaz had no right to threaten him that way, and that the offenders had been punished. Elzinger certainly had something inside his skull, but Kaz wasn’t sure if it was brain or just more muscle. The man was stupidly large, and stupid in general. He posed a physical threat to anyone by sheer size and muscle mass. Kaz wasn’t actually sure how much of the day to day running of the Black Tips that Elzinger did. He just didn’t have the smarts for it. Kaz’s kruge , and most of his intel, was on Marius being the brains behind the brawn. This proved to be a safe bet when Marius interrupted Elzinger’s protestations in a hiss. ‘I fucking told you those three were planning something. You didn’t listen.’ The giant of a man turned on his tall, slender lieutenant and stared open mouthed. Kaz took the opportunity to poke the bear. ‘Looks like you really don’t have any control, Elzinger. You can’t even be bothered to listen to your lieutenant.’ Elzinger’s attention swiveled back to Kaz, and he took a heavy step forward, a meaty fist raised.

Marius and Radka both backed away from their boss, nervously eyeing Pim and Anika as well as Kaz. It appeared neither of them was supporting their boss’s idiotic moves. Elzinger was now cursing Kaz out, and threatening violence as he took another step forward. Kaz raised his cane in a signal. The two Stadwatch officers stationed at the Exchange were in his pocket tonight, and one had been monitoring the scene with a sniper rifle. Once Elzinger moved on Kaz, his fate had been sealed. A shot rang out from above, and hit Elzinger in the gut, exactly where Kaz had been stabbed. It took a beat for the large man to register the shot, and he took a swing before he doubled over. Kaz had already neatly stepped out of the way. Elzinger grunted, ‘You broke parley.’

‘This wasn’t a regular parley, and you attacked first. Isn’t that right, Marius? Radka?’ The Black Tips lieutenants glanced nervously at each other, then their boss, then back to the Dregs. They both nodded in agreement. Kaz gave them a curt nod of his own. ‘There will be no more incursions into Dregs territory, or the Black Tips will have new leadership.’ He’d let them sort out what he meant by that on their own time. Turning on his heel, he led Anika and Pim back out of the Exchange, leaving the Black Tips to get their giant boss back out. Bet they don’t have a litter big enough for him. He knew the Black Tips present would see what had happened tonight as a call to figure out if they wanted to keep answering to Elzinger. Marius was the smartest of them. He also happened to be a distant cousin of Hiram Schenck. Kaz didn’t have all of the information as to how a man who could have been a mercher had ended up running with the Black Tips, but he did know Marius had no qualms about violence when it was necessary. 

As they made their way back to the Slat, Anika and Pim gave the basic rundown of events to Keeg, and the other Dregs with them in low voices. He could tell his lieutenants were a bit rattled by the end result. Good thing Rotty wasn’t here, he’d be insufferable. They’d been ready for Elzinger to get aggressive, but Kaz hadn’t told any of them about the sniper. He had more than enough kruge and intel for bribes and blackmail as needed for any Stadwatch officer. This particular one happened to have a sister who worked in the Barrel in Dregs territory, and had been more than happy to help for a quite affordable sum. It was almost too easy to orchestrate tonight. He’d happily take the win, however, in part because he was getting tired. It had only been a week since he’d been stabbed. Feeling better he might be, but fully healed, he was not. By the time he got back up to his bedroom that night, he was ready to collapse. He did manage to get a good night’s sleep, satisfied that he had the Black Tips problem solved for now. 

Chapter Text

Inej decided that once their business with the crew of The Vitomir was handled in Os Kervo, and they’d returned all the captives to their homes, that returning to Ketterdam was the simplest course of action. By the time they achieved the second objective, they’d been away for over seven weeks. She was weary. Nights of little sleep and the trouble in her heart were twinned anchors dragging on her. Inej wouldn’t admit it to her crew, but she was craving the luxury of the Van Eck mansion. Sleeping in, and having no responsibilities for a little while. Being able to hide away from her own actions, as Jes and Wy didn’t often pry too much into the details of her hunts. Maybe she could forget for a little while. Her crew could use the shore leave. The Wraith could use some repairs and maintenance. When she thought about looking for a Squaller to replace Vlady, though, her mind decided to heave to and refused to consider it further. 

When The Wraith docked at Berth 22 on a blustery morning, Inej scanned for Kaz. She’d sent letters from Os Kervo, as usual, letting him, and her housemates, know their approximate arrival. Instead of Kaz, she saw Jeter wave to her. He made his way to the main deck rail, a sealed note in his hand. Inej noticed how much he’d filled out in the last year, and gained an inch of height. She leaned down to take the parchment, running her thumb over the crow head wax seal. Jeter nodded to her, murmured ‘Welcome back, Captain Ghafa,’ and then sprinted off in the direction of the Slat. Sighing, she tucked the note into a pocket of her oilcloth captain's coat, and turned back to Specht to go over orders for their current stay and repairs. As they finished their chat, she could hear Kierik hailing Jesper and Wylan. Well, at least they made it here today. The boys greeted her with enthusiasm, despite the misty, muggy weather. Once everything for The Wraith was handled on her end, she tossed a bag to each of her housemates. They grabbed a hired gondel to the Geldin district. Jes & Wy gave her chattering updates on the state of Ketterdam, and she listened with a weary smile. It wasn’t until Inej and her bags were back in her suite at the mansion that she reached into her pocket for the note from Kaz.

His neat, small handwriting asked for her to meet him at the Slat at her earliest convenience. Inej gripped the note so hard she realized she was creasing the parchment. Couldn’t he have made the effort to come to Fifth Harbor today? Her frustration over their last visit came roaring back, on top of the cycle of turmoil that she’d been experiencing since Vlady’s death and Orlov’s torture. Inej checked the clock by her door. It was just past two bells. She could make it to the Slat easily, and possibly be back to the mansion by dinner time if Kaz was in one of his ‘cold’ moods. I’m not even going to bother to change. Deciding she didn’t want to talk to Wy or Jes about going to see Kaz, she slipped out of her own window. Inej had over a dozen ways to leave the mansion and get to the Barrel undetected. As good as the security that Wylan employed was, they seemed to have a blindspot when it came to the comings and goings of the Wraith.

By the time Inej made it to the damp roof of the Slat, her mind had calmed somewhat. Her aerial route had a way of doing that for her. Being high above the bustle of the city, alone with the wind, various birds, and the occasional stray cat, concentrating on her footing, focused her attention. She had worked up a sweat, as moving across wet rooftops took more effort. The window into Kaz’s private office was open already. He sat at the work table, back to her, no jacket over his broad shoulders. She noted that his shirt sleeves were rolled up, but his gloves were on. The movement of muscles in his bare forearms was distracting. He also appeared a bit gaunt; Jeter appeared healthier than his boss. Kaz never really ate enough. He needs to take better care of himself. She knew she hadn’t made a single sound, and yet Kaz swiveled in his desk chair and locked eyes with her. How does he always know!? He said his customary hello, and she entered through the window, trying not to scowl at him. Kaz grabbed his cane and stood. Without planning to, she scanned over all of him, seeing no new visible scars or injuries. 

Kaz gestured to the couch in the corner, and Inej took a seat, leaving room for him to join her. She narrowed her eyes at his back when he turned to grab his desk chair. When he wheeled it close to the couch, she schooled her features. Fine. I guess he’s in a cold mood this time. But then he gave her a disarming smile, and started asking questions about her adventures. Kaz always seemed to be genuinely interested and eternally supportive when it came to her mission. Inej fell into the storytelling cadence that she often used as they sat in his office upon her return. It made it easier to talk about this hunt. There were still pieces, however, that felt like jagged edges. They wouldn’t flow into her narrative without harming her. And for all his questions, Kaz didn’t ask why her voice caught when she said Vlady’s name. Or exactly how Orlov had met his end. Some part of her, perhaps her guilt or her conscience, wanted him to ask. Wanted him to press her for the details. And what would you tell him? That you have more blood to your name than even Dirtyhands?

Inej let the fierce need she had to continue her mission, to get more intel on Van Verent, carry her forward through the hardest parts of her story. She knew Kaz would have more information for her. He always did. If nothing else, she could count on him for that. When he rose to go to his safe, she debated trying for more touch. The last visit had ended so poorly. And he was being aloof this time. Saints, why do I keep getting my hopes up? He’s the one who told me hope is dangerous. She kept her fingers to herself when he handed her the folder. Inej flicked the folder open to peek inside when Kaz spoke. ‘About last time…’

He was standing in front of her, but all she could see was red. Every annoyance, every worry, all of her fears for the two of them coalesced into anger. Later, her words would echo in her mind, but in the moment, she barely knew what she said as she lashed out. Kaz looked as if she’d done so physically. She’d never seen him shrink back like that. For a second, regret tried to creep in, and then he opened his mouth again. Said that he didn’t think he could. Could what? Be any more frustrating? Her displeasure flared. Logic was nowhere to be found in her agitation. Snapping at him, and then slamming the folder shut, she stood and moved to his window. Inej stopped when Kaz said her name with a quiet desperation. She turned back, and registered the anguish clear on his face. Damnit. His next words shocked her completely. Kaz, his voice rough and low, said, ‘I’m sorry.’ She recovered enough to say that the apology was a start, and then left before she did or said anything else that would make that pain appear on his face again. 

Two rooftops away from the Slat, Inej slumped down behind a chimney, hidden from most viewpoints. She hugged her legs, and laid her head down on her knees. As the anger dissipated, remorse moved in. The rain picked up, matching her mood. She’d yelled at him. Lost all patience. Told him he could just open up to her, when she’d held back rather salient details of her own. And Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands himself, had looked like a lost and broken boy from her words alone. Certainly, he’d hurt her with words in their past; indifferent ones, impatient ones, occasionally unkind ones. But she couldn’t recall him lashing out at her as directly as she’d just done to him. Maybe I shouldn’t have seen him on so little sleep. Inej felt the weariness of weeks settle onto her shoulders. She still needed to get back to the mansion. Dashing the back of her hand across her eyes, she unfolded herself, and resumed her eastward journey.

That night, after a hearty dinner, Jesper and Wylan listened attentively to the abbreviated tale she told them. If anything, she left out even more with them than she had with Kaz. Jes, who’d flirted with Vlady the first time they’d met, appeared especially affected by the news of his death. Wylan offered them both a hug. Jes nodded, and Inej let herself relax a bit in their arms. After that, they moved to the music room, where Wy played pianoforte, and they all sang with varying levels of harmony. Inej let the ridiculous nature of their revelry sweep her worries into a hidden corner of her mind. By eleven bells, she was beyond tired, and Jes noticed when she leaned hard against him on the settee. ‘How ‘bout we get you to bed, ‘Nej?’ She reluctantly agreed, afraid that once she was alone in her suite, her mind would start in again on its torture. Fortunately, the exhaustion won out over her conscience as she sank into her plush bed.

Over the next week, Inej settled into a routine of letting herself sleep in if her body and brain would allow it. Some days were more successful than others. Jesper and Wylan kept her entertained, as they often did when she was in Ketterdam. She debated trying to see Kaz again. The memory of his distress troubled her, and she wasn’t sure how to soothe things with him. If he’d even let her attempt it. Her frustrations with him were valid. She didn’t want to apologize, per say, but Inej realized she’d been needlessly impatient. Kaz was skilled at pushing her away. This time, she’d done it to him. Maybe they just needed distance from each other at the moment. When she checked in on the repair progress to The Wraith, she avoided going near the Slat or any of the clubs owned by the Dregs. She could just refrain from seeing Kaz. He wasn’t coming to the mansion much, according to Jes. Wylan frowned on their involvement in the more illegal end of Kaz’s schemes, and had apparently argued with the last recruitment pitch rather strenuously. Inej tried to put thoughts of Kaz’s smile, his broad shoulders, and his bare forearms out of her mind. Along with the equally haunting thought that she’d caused him pain.

In the afternoons, she poured over the intel in the folder that Kaz provided. Comparing it to the information they’d gleaned from The Vitomir, Inej put together two additional leads. Schermer Eigendom, the holding company they’d linked to Councilman Van Verent, did regular shipments with a few vessels. The one that stood out was The Lindebloem. It regularly docked in Os Kervo, Ketterdam, and the Southern Colonies. There were suspicious gaps in its timing that would indicate time spent hunting for captives. Its captain, one Maxim Arrisen, happened to have a modest home just outside of Ketterdam. Inej planned a night time visit. According to public records, Arrisen had a wife there, but no children, and The Lindebloem was currently out on the True Sea.

Inej let her housemates know that she would be missing their usual post dinner amusements. Wylan’s eyebrows asked an unspoken question. She smiled and reassured them both it was fairly safe reconnaissance. Jesper asked if she needed help. Knowing he wasn’t the best at stealth, Inej politely declined. The trip out of the city via the Geldcanal was simple, and finding Arrisen’s plain cottage was no issue. Inej circled the property, biding her time and watching the wife’s movements. Considering how many places with actual security she’d broken into, this was the kind of job she could do in her sleep. She’d caught up on rest while at the mansion so far, but her dreams were still plagued with remorse. Shaking off thoughts that led down that path, she noted that Arrisen’s wife had extinguished all but an upstairs bedroom lamp. Just a little longer… Inej absentmindedly petted the cat that had discovered her hiding spot and had been demanding attention by way of headbutts. About twenty minutes after the last lamp in the cottage went dark, she slid open the shield on her tiny bone light. Entry into the cottage went unnoticed. A quick search of the first floor located a locked chest that looked promising for paperwork. The lock was simple enough for even her skills. Kaz would have just stared at it hard and it would have opened. I miss working with him… She shoved thoughts of him aside. 

Arisen’s papers were haphazardly organized, and she spent longer with the bone light open than she would have liked. Fortunately, it seemed the wife was a heavy sleeper. Inej could hear snoring coming from the stairs. Unfortunately, she found little of use in any of the captain’s paperwork that showed a concrete tie to the slave trade. I knew it wouldn’t be easy. There was one document that showed a previous year’s route up the coast of Ravka, and a few letters that proved interesting. One more search of the main floor, looking for signs of a hidden compartment or safe, proved useless. Inej let herself back out of the cottage. On her return trip, she plotted a route for The Wraith that followed along The Lindebloem’s previous one. If Arrisen was a captain of habit, perhaps they could track the ship that way. According to all the data she’d compiled so far, The Lindebloem should be heading from the Southern Colonies back towards Ravka within the next week or so. Perhaps they could intercept it quickly, before the late summer storms worsened. 

By the time she returned to the mansion that night, Jes and Wy were long in bed, and all was quiet. Inej padded silently to the kitchen. The house staff were fairly tolerant of her habits of sneaking about, as well as midnight raids for snacks and tea. I guess they only have to put up with it for a week or two at a time, and then I’m gone again. She contemplated her pattern of coming and going while she waited for water to boil. Her life was transitory, but not quite in the same way as life was in her family’s caravan. The crew of The Wraith was certainly like a family for her, though she wasn’t as close with most of them as she was with Jesper and Wylan. Inej trusted all of them, but not as much as she trusted Kaz. Then why didn’t I tell him everything? A year of hunts, and she often held back on details with him. Those things she wasn’t proud of when the rage wore off. The confessions she made to Lizabet in her darkest hours. Inej was startled out of the darkening spiral of her thoughts by the kettle’s whistle. Pouring the water over some chamomile tea, she tried to settle her mind. Thinking about Kaz and what I haven’t told him isn’t helping anything.

Her sleep that night was fitful. In a dream, her cousin Kasim asked her why she needed so many replacement knives. Inej couldn’t find an answer to give him, and looked down at her hands instead of meeting his eyes. From fingertips to wrists, she was covered in blood. Inej awoke, sweating, panting, and staring at her hands in the moonlit murkiness of her bedroom. Lizabet’s words echoed in her mind. ‘ I think you need to be able to forgive yourself.’ She obviously hadn’t done so yet. When dawn came, Inej resolved to spend the day running errands, readying herself to set sail, and keeping busy in both body and mind. She arranged for some extra supplies to be loaded onto The Wraith , in case they couldn’t track The Lindebloem swiftly. Specht and Kierik got an update on the new intel. They were both in agreement with her that this was the correct target based on all the information to be gleaned from Schermer Eigendom’s records and dealings. During the meeting, Inej met their gazes in turn. ‘Don’t let me go too far when we catch this captain and his crew. We’ll need them alive to testify against Van Verent.’ Kierik simply inclined his head, but Specht cleared his throat and spoke. ‘Orlov got what was coming to him. But I hear you, Captain.’ 

Inej quarreled with herself about letting Kaz know when she would be leaving. Even the times when he’d been somewhat distant during her past stays in Ketterdam, she’d never been quite this distraught. With him, or with herself. And Kaz usually came to see her off. He’d stand at the back of Berth 22, looking like a cut stone statue. All handsome angles and guarded expression. I don’t think I can face him. I’ll just… I’ll just leave this time. When she returned, triumphant, with the ability to take down Van Verent; then she would face Kaz. A more concrete win was what she needed. Inej let Jesper and Wylan know she’d be departing in two days. That night, they insisted on going out for dinner at a fancier restaurant in the Zelver district. She let their enthusiasm carry her through the evening. The delicious food and their company was almost enough to take her mind off of her various concerns. Inej also let them convince her to stay up late, drinking two bottles of wine between the three of them and playing cards in the parlor. Better than another fitful night of sleep, anyway, she thought as she made her tipsy way up to her room after two bells. Packing her bags the next day with a hangover was definitely not as much fun.

She’d established a routine where the last night in Ketterdam was actually spent aboard The Wraith so they could leave at first light. It ensured she was on her ship in a timely fashion, and gave her a chance to catch up with the crew before they set sail. It also meant her housemates couldn’t convince her to carouse one more time. Inej’s aching head thanked her for that. Lizabet took one look at her as she came aboard, and handed Inej a tonic within ten minutes. The next morning, Inej found herself scanning the dock for a certain familiar figure, and then remembered with a pang that she hadn’t told Kaz when she’d be departing. It’s too late now anyway. She concentrated instead on steering her ship out of Fifth Harbor.

The Wraith took a slow sweep across the True Sea towards Ravka, along the route that had been marked in Arrisen’s paperwork. There was no sign of The Lindebloem. Specht remarked that while it would have been nice, he hadn’t thought it would be that easy. When they reached the Ravkan coast south of the Obol river, they started searching each hidden cove and inlet, working their way north. A week later, offshore outside of Udova, Inej, Specht, and Kierik went over their options. It was possible their timing was off, or that Arrisen had changed his route. It was decided they’d search towards the south again. They were almost to Bhez Ju when Tafa and Kierik suggested a supply stop for fresh food stores. Inej’s patience was starting to wear thin, but she knew taking it out on her crew would do no good. Shiru and Tafa completed a resupply, and then the ship headed north once more. They went as far north as Arkesk this time, and then turned around again.

When they reached Os Kervo, nearly a month after leaving Ketterdam, Inej determined that everyone, including her, needed a break. She assigned Kierik and Tafa with restocking all of their needs, and gave the crew a limited shore leave. Oxana, Alexi, and Flip, a former Dregs who could pass as Ravkan, all slipped into the port city and went looking for information on sightings of The Lindebloem. Inej stayed aboard The Wraith, and penned letters to her parents and Ketterdam. Without giving too many details, she let them all know that this hunt was proving frustrating. Her letter to Kaz held the same information as the one to her housemates. She wasn’t sure what else to say, and didn’t want to try to address the weird chasm between them in writing. Not telling him about her departure was weighing on her. It feels petty, now. Inej assured herself they could figure it out when she got back. If she could ever find the damned slaver ship they sought.

That evening, Flip knocked on her cabin door. The former Dregs member had news. Flip, Alexi, and Oxana had split up and visited all of the taverns where sailors gathered. In the third one Flip visited, he’d overheard some fishermen talking about a merchant vessel they’d noticed far off of its usual course. ‘Not often you see a Kerch ship in the delta of the Obol.’ Flip, pretending to be far drunker than he’d actually been, had scoffed, saying there was no way a merchant vessel could maneuver into the delta. The fishermen haughtily explained to the younger man that there was one section of the Obol that ran especially deep during summer high tides. Flip was sure they should check it out. Inej agreed. They’d searched all the coves around the Obol twice now, but hadn’t thought to search further inland. The Lindebloem was large and potentially laden with human cargo, and the potential for the ship to run aground in the delta was likely. The Wraith would also face that issue, but Specht, Kierik, and Kalu had some tricks up their sleeves. Inej conferred with them as soon as they were back aboard. 

The next day, Inej arranged her letters to go out, did a bit of specific sightseeing, and called her crew back. Kierik rushed their resupply. Specht and Kalu discussed weight and ballast balancing to help with how low The Wraith would ride in the water as they entered the Obol delta. They were able to set sail at dawn, and made haste south along the coast. Inej readied her crew for a potential engagement within the next day or two. Equipment and weapons were all double checked. They reached the mouth of the Obol before sunset. Tajed, in the crow’s nest, spotted what he was fairly certain was a set of masts. Inej decided they’d weigh anchor overnight, and head inland at first light, waiting for high tide before entering the delta. It would be fairly difficult for The Lindebloem to go by them unnoticed. Inej sought out Lizabet that night before she tried to sleep. She asked her Medik much the same thing she’d asked of Specht and Kierik. Lizabet studied her face, and gave her a knowing smile. ‘The fact that you’re asking tells me you wonder if you can stop yourself… but it also tells me you know what you need to do.’

There wasn’t much comfort in the Medik’s words, but there was possibly wisdom. Inej needed this captain and his crew alive, if they knew enough to testify against Councilman Van Verent. All of the evidence she and Kaz had put together pointed to The Lindebloem being the link they needed. Inej spent a restless night in her cabin, and gave up on sleep long before dawn. When she appeared in the galley, Tafa wordlessly handed her a cup of strong spiced tea, and shortly thereafter, an omelet and some skillet bread. Their cook seemed to have a six sense about caring for the crew. When Inej finished her breakfast, she thanked Tafa and went in search of Oxana and Alexi. Specht found her soon after she’d spoken with them, and informed her they’d been tracking the tides. Inej let her first mate take the wheel for steering The Wraith into the delta, with Flip describing everything the fishermen had told him about the deepest route.

After over a month of searching, The Lindebloem was captured with a minimum of fuss. The ship could go no further inland, and there wasn’t room for them to escape around The Wraith. The gambit of hiding here had worked in the short term, and if Flip hadn’t happened upon the intel in Os Kervo, it might have kept Arrisen and his crew safe. The battle between the two ships was short lived, with only a single volley of cannon fire exchanged. After her conversation with Lizabet, and a mostly sleepless night, Inej had devised a plan. It was one that wouldn’t work in open water, but she’d counted on the coverage of marshes on either side of the delta. Alexi had actually told her of this tactic that they’d used in the First Army. Before The Wraith engaged with The Lindebloem, Oxana and Alexi had slipped free and swam silently through reeds. The two had snuck onto the slaver ship, and captured the captain and first mate at pistol point. Inej had noted, in going through Arrisen’s paperwork, that the man seemed to have a tight bond with his crew. He wrote of their families and habits. Arrisen appeared to be a vastly different captain than Orlov. She wagered that Arrisen’s crew would surrender rather than see their captain injured, and that bet paid off.

There were no casualties for either crew, and the few injuries were easily handled. While Inej’s people secured the slavers on deck, Oxana and Alexi searched the hold below. ‘No captives, Captain.’ The lack of captives meant a little less evidence, but it also meant no one had been put in harm’s way, which helped her breathe easier. Inej implemented the second phase of her plan. Kierik and Specht hauled Captain Arrisen and his first mate, Yuli Rozsa, into Arrisen’s cabin. They were tied securely to chairs, while Inej sat in the captain’s chair and watched. Specht and Kierik rifled through every part of the cabin, looking through paperwork, ledgers and records. Inej observed Arrisen and Rozsa’s reactions quietly, which started to unnerve them. When her first mate reported they weren’t finding anything of substance specifically tying this ship to Van Verent, Inej assured them it would be fine. Every man in the room looked at her with varying levels of curiosity. Specht and Kierik took up positions behind the tied men. Inej let the predator grin slide onto her face, and toyed with Sankt Petyr on her arm. She noted that Specht and Kierik both tensed, while Arrisen and Rozsa went a little wide eyed. ‘You going to gut me in my own cabin?’ asked Arrisen. ‘We heard what you did to Orlov from one of his crewmember’s cousins.’ It appeared this cousin had also warned them to go into hiding.

‘You seem to be a different sort of captain, Arrisen, so I don’t think there will be a need for bloodshed. Not yours, anyway.’ Inej proceeded, in a conversational tone directed at Specht and Kierik, to talk about Arrisen’s quaint cottage outside of Ketterdam. She described his lovely blond wife Esme, the friendly ginger tomcat that prowled around outside, the lace curtains in the kitchen, and more. Arrisen paled as she continued, his lips set in a firm line. Curious how little he protests. Wonder how much he actually cares for his wife. Inej then went on to talk about Lyda Rozsa, a pretty young brunette who lived in Os Kervo. Both captain and first mate gasped. Her feral smile increased. I didn’t think those letters were from his wife. It turned out that Yuli Rozsa’s sister also happened to be Maxim Arrisen’s mistress. Inej described details of Lyda’s small apartment in Os Kervo, which she’d visited after arranging her correspondences. The captain of The Lindebloem growled, ‘What do you want?’

‘You’re going to testify against Councilman Gert Van Verent, and tie him to the slave trade.’ Arrisen glared, while Rozsa protested that Van Verent would kill them in a shaking voice. It seemed the first mate had a weaker constitution than his captain. Inej explained that she could either harm or protect Esme and Lyda, but not Maxim or Yuli. She would be dropping them off to the Stadwatch in Ketterdam with enough evidence to damn them no matter what. Testifying against Van Verent was the only way for them to safeguard their precious women. ‘It’s simple really. Choose between Van Verent’s possible wrath, or your women as my targets.’ Arrisen breathed loudly from his nostrils, while Rozsa glanced sideways at his captain. The first mate broke first, asking, ‘If we testify, what assurances do we get?’

Maxim Arrisen hissed at the man next to him to shut up. Inej tilted her head. ‘Assurances? From the Scourge of the True Sea? The Sankta of Death? You want assurances from me?’ Rozsa somehow went paler. Arrisen rolled his eyes, but even he didn’t seem to be as brave as the face he was putting on. Inej, in a low, firm voice, disclosed her terms. ‘If Van Verent is convicted, you’ll receive proof that Esme and Lyda have been safely relocated to somewhere outside of the Councilman’s reach. If Van Verent goes free for any reason, you will be delivered Esme’s bloody blond braid and Lyda’s heart shaped birthmark.’ Arrisen and Rozsa were visibly appalled. Only because she’d flicked her attention upwards for a moment did she see Specht and Kierik’s shocked reactions. Her crew had seen her in the grips of rage, doing atrocious things. What she’d just suggested though, was absolutely cold blooded. Kierik looked a bit ill.

All without meaning to, Inej had stolen a few pages from Kaz’s playbook. It didn’t necessarily feel cleaner for her soul, threatening loved ones, but there had certainly been less violence and bloodshed so far. She recalled something Kaz had said to her once. ‘When everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.’ The reputation that she’d built, as the Wraith as well as the Scourge of the True Sea, did quite a bit of the work for her. If even her own first and second mates thought she might be capable of scalping and skinning innocent women, then Arrisen and Rozsa were certain to believe it. There were ways to fake that evidence if she needed it without actually harming Esme or Lyda. As these thoughts ran through her head, she kept her face cold, studying Arrisen’s grimace. She saw the exact moment he caved. ‘Fine. We’ll testify. But I demand you also assure the safety of my crew between here and Ketterdam.’

Inej leaned over the captain’s desk, meeting Arrisen’s eyes. ‘Funny that you think you are in a place to make demands. However, so long as your crew cooperates, they’ll be fine. I’m not a complete monster.’ She said the last bit with as much dark humor as the line deserved. Rozsa rewarded her with a flinch. Arrisen merely shut his eyes and gave a curt nod. Kaz would be proud of my performance. Inej ignored the slew of messy emotions that thought brought. She gave Specht and Kierik orders to take the captain and first mate away. Rozsa would be held aboard The Lindebloem with a portion of its crew. Arrisen would be held on The Wraith. No sense in having them collaborate on their stories or testimony on their voyage back to Ketterdam. The rest of The Lindebloem’s crew were split between the two ships for weight distribution. Roughly half of The Wraith’s crew moved over to man The Lindebloem , with Kierik taking over as captain. They waited until high tide came again to carefully maneuver the two ships out of the Obol delta. Because they’d taken the time to rest in between the short battle and while waiting for the next high tide, Inej asked her crew to push through the night to reach Os Kervo. 

She took some time to pen more letters to her parents, Kaz, and her housemates. Unwilling to risk tipping Van Verent off in the slightest, her letters to Ketterdam were vague on details, including their expected arrival. During her quick jaunt into the port city, she also picked up some supplies to make a spectacle for her delivery of these two particular prisoners to the Stadwatch. Need to keep the reputation growing, after all. Specht and Alexi, meanwhile, saw to turning in any of The Lindebloem’s crew for which there was a Ravkan bounty. It meant money for her people, and less mouths to feed on their return voyage. Kierik saw to supplies for both ships. They set out at dawn the next day to head towards Ketterdam. Shiru and Tajed had grown to be experts in the Suli mirror signaling that Inej had taught to quite a few of her crew now, and they communicated across the open water during the day as the two ships traveled south. 

Two nights out of Ketterdam, Specht knocked on Inej’s cabin door. She’d been expecting Lizabet, but was greeted by her gruff first mate instead. As she offered him a glass and shook a bottle of kvas meaningfully, he stammered, ‘Captain… I’m not sure it’s my place to ask this…’ Inej quirked an eyebrow at him, and interrupted softly. ‘You want to know if I would go through with those threats I made?’ Specht nodded. She explained that she would do what was necessary to make Arrisen and Rozsa believe she’d done such horrid things. But she had no plans to kill innocent women or mutilate their bodies. ‘I do think I should tell you what I plan to do to the captain and his first mate before we deliver them to the Stadhall, however. I want to make a scandal that the Merchant Council cannot ignore. The entire city, even.’

As Inej explained her plans, Specht’s eyes grew large. He offered his assistance, even though she could tell he was taken aback. ‘The Merchant Council will notice, that’s for damn sure.’ Specht also offered up the best way to deliver their prisoners to the Stadhall, unseen until arrival. It was handy having a first mate who knew Ketterdam and its shoreline so well. When Specht left her cabin, Inej felt more confident in her plan, and in his trust in her. She had been sleeping better since they’d captured The Lindebloem. There was still some lingering shame over what had happened with Captain Orlov, but she felt she had done far better with her handling of Arrisen. The anxiety she had over her last meeting with Kaz remained. Inej continued to put off thinking about it too hard until she succeeded in delivering her prisoners. 

They arrived at Berth 22 in Fifth Harbor just after noon on a breezy, early fall day. Even though Inej wasn’t expecting anyone to greet her, she found herself reflexively scanning the dock as she, Specht, Kalu, and Alexi carefully prepared their prisoners for transport. Arrisen and Rozsa had been fed breakfast, allowed to relieve themselves one last time, and then tied and gagged before their ‘decorations’ were applied. Specht and Kalu had conferred about temperature and timing; they weren’t trying to seriously harm the captain and his first mate. Inej had observed all of the off shore proceedings that morning with cool reserve, while Arrisen and Rozsa had protested strenuously behind their gags. Now, the two men seemed resigned to their fate, and let themselves be carried to the waiting longboat. They would be rowed around the shoreline to the Stadhall, under a canvas cover, and delivered right before the evening shift change for maximum attention. 

Inej’s initial quick scan of the dock had shown her no sign of Kaz, and she hadn’t spotted a runner from the Dregs she recognized. As she went over last minute details with her crew, as well as Kierik aboard The Lindebloem, she heard whooping from Berth 22. She turned to find Jesper and Wylan waving at her. Were they stalking the harbor? Inej vaulted the rail and met them on the dock. Jes swept her off her feet in a hug, surprising a laugh out of her. Once upon a time, she’d disliked the physical attention, but she’d acclimated to Jesper’s enthusiasm. When Jes set her down, Wy opened his arms and she returned his embrace. They happily explained to her that when they’d received her letter, they’d done the math on approximately when she should arrive, and had started coming to Fifth Harbor each morning this week. Inej rolled her eyes. I love these two rascals. They invited her to lunch, and she agreed. We’ve got time before the longboat needs to leave. Inej let Specht know she’d be back within an hour.

Over lunch at Cilla's Fry, chosen because it was closer to Fifth Harbor, Inej asked Jesper and Wylan if they had seen or heard from Kaz. ‘No, not really. We caught wind of some major parley with the Black Tips, and Elzinger getting shot, but we haven’t heard from the Bastard himself,’ Jes replied. Inej frowned. Kaz had mentioned trouble with the other gangs, but had included frustratingly little detail. Like a rival gang leader getting shot. Perhaps her impatience with Kaz had pushed him further away than she’d intended. He certainly hadn’t been coming to Fifth Harbor everyday like Jesper and Wylan had, or they would have seen him. And Saints only knew what was going on in his head. She pressed thoughts about Kaz down when she realized Wylan had asked if she was enjoying her lunch. I’ll go and see him tomorrow. With a promise to the boys that she’d be back at the mansion tonight, Inej returned to The Wraith.

Just before the evening shift change, dressed in head to toe black and dark colors, with their heads and faces covered, a group of six people carried two bound men before the Stadhall. Arrisen and Rozsa had been painstakingly covered in tar and lustrous black crow feathers. Kalu happened to know just the right temperature to heat tar for maximum coverage and stickiness without horribly burning the prisoners. In large, easily read print, Specht had fashioned a sign that read ‘Gert Van Verent’s new mansion was paid for in bodies.’ Inej pinned it to Arrisen’s chest, and reminded both men that their testimony against Van Verent was vital to the continued safety of their beloved Esme and Lyda. The prisoners were left on the street directly in front of the Stadhall, and sat back to back. In a folder laid beneath Rozsa’s behind, there were documents tying Van Verent to Schermer Eigendom, and thus to The Lindebloem. Tajed and Shiru had spent a good portion of the afternoon alerting the local newspapers that something of interest would be transpiring in this very spot. They’d also delivered copies of the evidence to each office. Specht’s hands had been busy the last few days. As Inej, Alexi, Flip, Riny, Seile, and Oxana left, a crowd had already started to gather. 

Chapter Text

Kaz spent the remainder of the summer attempting to settle into a healthier routine. Some days went smoother than others. His goal of practicing touch continued, and he refrained from drinking in public completely. He wasn't risking another screw up. Unfortunately, his mind still fed him doubts. On any number of fronts, but mostly, if he’d be able to figure out what his status with Inej was. Once he’d dealt with the Black Tips issue, his worries about Inej demanded attention. Kaz had taken 'without your armor or not at all' quite literally. He’d translated this as an all or nothing proposal. Until he could go all in, what was the use? He didn’t think to ask Inej for clarification. Instead, he’d lay awake after pushing his limits for touch, trying to discern how he could meet the requirement of ‘no armor’.How could he lower his guard, open up to her, and figure out how to be physical with her if she still wanted that? Often, he’d sit on her windowsill, feed her crows, and think about cracking the complicated riddle. 

During the day, he shoved the entire debate back into a mental safe vault, and concentrated on running his empire. There’d been no more trouble from the Black Tips; the last he’d heard, Elzinger was recovering and laying low. There was some tumult in the Razorgulls, and another change of leadership there. They’d been leaving the Dregs and their territory alone, however. He was also keeping an eye on a former Menagerie indenture named Rosa working her way up the ranks in the Liddies. All of the Dregs’ clubs were prosperous, and Fifth Harbor was essentially a kruge factory with all of the merchant vessels he’d been leasing berths to. His empire was thriving.

A few weeks after the stabbing, he visited Arika’s clinic in Little Ravka to check it out. He’d questioned Jeter for the information, as the clinic was clandestine for the Grisha Healer’s security. Arika greeted him with a grin, and immediately asked how he was feeling. Kaz let her know he felt fully recovered, and glanced around the clinic. There was comfortable seating in the main room, shelves with teas, creams, oils, and a variety of curious goods in glass doored cabinets. It was unlike a Medik’s clinic; it felt more like a mixture between a pleasure house sitting room and an apothecary. He could see why some people would feel at ease here. Arika rambled at him a bit, letting him know what some of the goods were for. A few of the explanations had him feeling the tips of his ears heat up. Ghezen, man, you grew up in the Barrel. Perhaps it was her no nonsense approach, or the fact that she was a rather attractive woman explaining sex toys. Possibly both. Kaz purchased a large jar of the bruise cream, in part to stop the flow of information, and because he’d gone through the small jar she’d given him. Arika told him, with a cheery smile, to stop by anytime he needed more bruise cream, healing, or anything else. He wondered if she was always that effusive, or if she’d been flirting. Not like I’m going to act on that if she was. Before he left, Kaz let her know that if she ever needed it, he would provide protection for her via the Dregs. On the condition that she never reveal to anyone how badly he'd been injured, or had ever been her patient. Arika’s eyes widened; she agreed, then thanked him for the offer.

He went back to the Barrel, and back to paperwork, ledgers, and letters. His latest missive from Inej felt slightly less personal. There was no postscript. She’d sent him news of her latest hunt; it was taking her far longer than she’d expected. He hinted at some troubles with the other gangs in his reply, but didn’t go into specifics about the attack on him. Not only didn’t he want the severity of the stabbing in writing, he found himself mortified by the whole ordeal. He wasn’t willing to tell Inej he’d been drinking himself into stupors to avoid his own misery. To bury the feeling that he’d failed her. Neither of them addressed her lack of alerting him to her departure when she’d left this last time. He couldn’t find it in him to bring it up, both for the pain that came with it, and the fear he’d be seen as too needy. At least she was still writing to him.

There was also a letter from Inej’s parents. They wrote to him in Ravkan every few months, usually with brief updates on how they were doing and asking after him. It was the strangest feeling, these wholesome people inquiring about his life. He found himself wondering if his life had been different, would his family have corresponded with him? If they were alive, and he’d come to Ketterdam for the University, or to seek his fortune, would he have letters from Jordie and Da? He slid such painful thoughts back into a mental vault. Kaz wrote the Ghafas politely worded letters back, his Ravkan somewhat formal, giving the glossiest version of his life. He never lied, but he most certainly omitted an entire volume’s worth of the truth of day to day Barrel life. The Ghafas didn’t seem to mind. Every so often, they would thank him again for bringing Inej back into their lives. It was somehow easier to handle their gratitude in writing than it had been in person. 

When Inej came back to Ketterdam that second autumn, Kaz wondered if he was ready to try for something more physical with her. He’d been practicing touch on himself for months. Attempting to conquer his fear, to best his weakness. He hoped he could make up for his misstep during their last meeting. One of his newest runners told him when The Wraith docked. He made his way quickly to Fifth Harbor, only to find that Jesper and Wylan had beaten him there. She wrote to them too. Had she told them when she would arrive? And not him? Or did they just have excellent timing? Her letters to him hadn’t been as warm of late. Maybe she hadn’t wanted him to greet her. From a distance, he watched Jesper pick Inej up into a great sweeping hug. He could see her smile from halfway down the quay. When Jes set her down, she freely hugged Wylan. And Kaz stopped in his tracks, his mind flooding, and his nerves fleeing. He couldn’t do what they’d just done; he knew it. He wasn’t ready. Every doubt and unkind voice in his head shouted at once. You’ll never be ready. You’ll never be able to offer her enough. You’ll never be good enough. And he turned around and limped back to the Slat. The pain in his bad leg paled in comparison to the ache in chest.

Inej came to see him the next day, just showing up at his private office window. Kaz kept it all business. He sat across from her again, rather than next to her. Ignoring how radiant she looked when she first arrived. Ignoring the part of him that screamed to just try something, anything, to show her that he cared. ‘I trust your adventures have been satisfactory?’ he asked, immediately hating how he sounded. She told him of the two slavers she’d delivered to the Stadhall in tar and crow feathers the night before. He’d already read the news that morning, but didn’t point that out to Inej, preferring to hear her side of the story. She thanked him for all of the previous information on Gert Van Verent. The two men she’d delivered to the Stadwatch were the captain and first mate of The Lindebloem. They could conclusively tie Councilman Van Verent to the slave trade. She let him in on the details about delivering evidence to the local newspapers. And the dramatic flares she’d added to the delivery of the prisoners. Inej’s long term plan of getting to the top of the slave trade chain here in Ketterdam was coming to fruition.

While Kaz was immensely proud of her, thrilled with her news, he couldn’t figure out how to express it to her. The horrid doubts from the summer, and the day before, had him locked up tighter than a Langenberg safe. A sense of loss hit him. She hadn’t involved him, hadn’t asked for his help for her spectacle. Kaz missed working alongside her, but he also knew she was perfectly capable of doing spectacular things on her own. He wanted, desperately, to tell Inej how pleased he was by all that she’d accomplished. The words wouldn’t come out. Instead, he gave her a full report of his current intel. He stuck to facts; the information that might lead to even more change within the city. Kaz couldn’t bear to try saying anything more personal. He didn’t dare bring up the mental or physical wounds of his summer. Or how she’d left without telling him. Nothing he could say would make things better. I’ll just end up hurting both of us. Entire harbors lay between them, and he would never bridge the gap. He could see the tense lines around her eyes when she leaned forward on the couch and he didn’t reach out, or open up to her. You just keep failing her. Inej left, and he wanted to go find someone to stab him again.

After that meeting, he nearly gave up. The healthy routine followed Inej out the window. For two weeks, he was surly with his crew, griping at his lieutenants. He refused to see Inej, or Jesper and Wylan. They invited him to dinner at the mansion, and he didn’t respond. The invitation sat on his desk, mocking him. Kaz contemplated burning it, but couldn’t bring himself to. The unkind chorus in his head was terribly loud. He kept himself away from liquor, but only barely. Then Inej sailed off in the middle of the night, without telling him, for the second time. Kaz couldn’t escape the unkind chorus telling him how badly he’d failed at earning Inej’s patience. How he could never deserve her. The next week, Jordie’s birthday came around. Kaz locked himself in his bedroom, with a large bottle of kvas, and a larger pit of despair. He’d never told anyone why he generally disappeared on this day. Not even his Wraith knew this secret. Because he never told her about his past. Never explained. Never opened up. Never told her how Jordie hadn’t seen his fourteenth birthday. Kaz drank shot after shot, and then switched to swigging straight from the bottle. He wasn’t going out anywhere tonight. Drowning his sorrows seemed appropriate. But he couldn’t drown out the voices in his head.

             You would have been 22 today. You fucking podge. 9 years gone.

             And what have you done with all those years, Kaz?

             I survived. I got revenge for you. I’ve built an empire.

             Has that made you happy?

             Yes… No… I don’t know…

             What good is that revenge, little brother?

             Fuck off, Jordie. 

             Make me. Bet you can’t even do that.

             Get the fuck out of my head.

             Why haven’t you told Inej about me? Or even Jesper? 

             SHUT UP!

Kaz kept drinking until he nearly blacked out, trying to quell the inescapable arguments. Trying to silence his brother’s voice. And the horrendous chorus of doubt. Sprawled across his bed, half dressed, drunker than he’d been in a long while, he heard a noise outside his window. For a moment, he thought it was Inej. That she hadn’t set sail. That she was about to come in and find him in this pathetic state. Half a dozen thoughts all crowded into the stupor. What would she think of him now? Could he face her like this? If he was black out drunk, could he touch her? Could he let her in? Open up? She wouldn’t want him like this. Kaz didn’t want her to see him like this. And then the crow pecked at the window again. He’d neglected to feed them the last three weeks. 

Fuck, I’m pathetic. Her crows can’t even fucking depend on me. He stumbled out of bed, and limped into his private office. There were some stale crackers in a tin somewhere. Groping in the dark, he knocked things off a shelf until he found the crackers. He managed to get back into his bedroom, and opened the window. The lone crow cawed at him. Debating going out, and possibly also falling off of the roof, he stopped short. You drunk shit. You didn’t crawl out of the fucking harbor, survive the fucking Ice Court, and getting stabbed, to jump off a Saints damned roof. Kaz blinked, dashing the back of one hand against his damp, bleary eyes. He threw the crackers out onto the roof instead of risking going out. And then he sat on her windowsill, and watched the crow feast by moonlight. Cool night air caressed his bare torso. Kaz longed for it to be Inej. His kvas soaked mind showed him memories of her fingers laced with his, her arms around him, her head on his chest, when they’d managed that. When he hadn’t failed. When he’d let her in even a little.

A certain drunken bravado came over him. He hadn’t always failed. The fuck am I letting this best me? Kaz got up and closed the window. Clumsy without his cane, or any lick of sobriety, he made his way to his dresser. In front of the mirror, he began the routine he’d abandoned for weeks. He dragged every positive image of Inej to the forefront of his mind. While he ran his fingers over his scarred skin, he envisioned touching her. Letting her touch him. When the waters lapped at his ankles, he told them loudly to fuck off. For that, the kvas proved helpful, but he knew getting drunk just to be with Inej was not an answer. I will fucking beat this. Brick by brick. Touch by touch. He ran his hands over himself until he was nearly nauseous, and the harbor felt like it was closing in. Then he hobbled back to bed and collapsed there.

The next morning dawned entirely too bright. The hangover was a dozen rival gang members kicking his head in. Kaz stayed in his room until nearly noon. But he made himself get up, drink water, and do the routine again. Determination took the place of despair over the next few weeks. He would figure this out. Doubling down, he worked at devising a plan. How could he offer himself to Inej safely for both of them? He ran through permutations, scenarios, possibilities. And nearly every night, he took the time to practice touch. Kaz resolved to put liquor off the menu for a while. Alone in his private office, he began to take his gloves off to work, more often than not. He gathered textures to his bare fingers, studied the way things felt. It was as if he was relearning his world through his fingertips, since he was so accustomed to sensing everything through his gloves. They'd been with him longer than his cane. It felt odd to shed them, like he was losing a piece of himself. Taking off a piece of the armor.  

Kaz began to contemplate what other things made up his armor. He knew that his biting remarks, his sharpness, was part of it. How closed off he was. He’d been trying to set that aside when with Inej, and failed miserably these last two times. Her words echoed in his head. ‘ You could just talk to me, you know.’ He had so much trouble opening up to her, telling her the simplest things about how he felt. Or about his past. Half his life pushing people away, keeping himself aloof and apart. Surviving. Seeking out pain and violence instead of comfort. He didn’t know how to seek out or offer comfort. That hadn’t been something that served him in the Barrel. If he only figured out how to offer Inej touch, but didn’t open up the rest of himself, what good was he to her? ‘Without your armor, or not at all’ , she’d said, when they’d been sailing back from Fjerda. All or nothing , he thought. How could he offer her all of him? Would she even want all of him, once she saw it, as twisted and broken as he was? Was he even capable of being a good partner? Kaz didn’t have experience being in a romantic relationship, or even what one looked like close up. His mother had passed when he was a baby; his father raising him and Jordie alone. And it wasn’t like the Barrel was full of healthy examples of loving partnerships. He’d seen love as a thing to exploit in others. A weakness. A distraction. Not something he was worthy of. Never something he could have.

Deciding he needed to make a study of how healthy romantic relationships functioned, he thought first of Jesper and Wylan. It was the longest relationship he'd ever seen Jes have so they must be doing something right. The merchling didn’t generally welcome Kaz at the mansion. Wylan often assumed, rightly so, that he would come calling to ask them for help with a heist, and tried to protect Jesper from illegal activities. Kaz had been pondering an idea for a club expansion that might actually interest the merchling, and so he used that as an excuse for a visit. Showing up unannounced was potentially a mistake. Instead of getting to propose the idea, he got into an argument with Jesper. While Wylan was still down in his lab, Jes berated Kaz for his treatment of Inej on her latest stay in Ketterdam. It quickly became evident that Jesper was ready to punch Kaz, which he actually invited out loud. Maybe it would alleviate his guilt for his own behavior. He deserved a punch or four. Then Jes went quiet, and asked him if he only ever allowed himself to feel pain. Kaz gave him a smart ass answer, deflecting away from the truth. Then Wylan came upstairs. Sensing the mood, the merchling went to Jesper’s side, placing a protective arm around his partner’s waist. Kaz told them both he had business he’d like to discuss at some future point, all above board and legal, and then took his leave.

Shaken by the interaction with Jesper, he still found he’d come away with some small lessons. Wylan had come up and placed himself between Kaz and Jesper. The slight merchling had been protective in the face of an angry Kaz. Offered his partner physical comfort. Then managed to be civil, soothing Jes, and telling Kaz to actually make an appointment with them next time. The merchling had shown considerable spine, all while maintaining a loving attitude with Jes. If Wylan could manage that, then maybe Kaz could figure his shit out, as Jesper had admonished him on several occasions now. It wasn’t like Wylan had examples of a loving relationship either; his father had faked his mother’s death and had her committed, for Saints sake. Jesper was the only one who seemed to have a wholesome example of a good relationship, and that was only until his mother had passed. If those two can figure it out… maybe I could? Even Anika and Pim had figured out a relationship, although those two fought more than alley cats. Anika usually came out on top. Pim seemed to do a lot of apologizing. Kaz had rather little practice in apologies.

Jes’s question continued to plague him. Pain was something he was used to; it fed him, fueled him. Pain was a constant companion. Though pain had overstayed its welcome after the stabbing. Anger, hate, cruelty, all familiar. Even anxiety, as much as Kaz hated to admit to it. Happiness was generally linked with victory. A successful heist, a well crafted plan coming to fruition. Mastering a new trick or picking a difficult lock. Revenge against Pekka had made him happy, hadn’t it? The last report from Inej and his spiders had told him Rollins had moved yet again. A jurda farm in Novyi Zem this time. Kaz knew that the man knew no peace. Jordie’s question echoed in his head. Pekka’s misery was gratifying, but Kaz wasn’t actually sure how much it made him happy. He’d thought taking Rollins down would have satisfied him completely. But he wasn’t certain how much pleasure he actually took from it. What was he left with, after his revenge? Pleasure was something Kaz let himself have in fleeting moments. Comfort was almost alien. Sure, he enjoyed simple pleasures, like food, a warm fire on a cold wet day, softer materials in his clothes. But he’d spent a long time being frugal, being driven. Not letting the finer things have too much importance. Avoiding the kind of greed he'd seen in Jordie. Kaz had more kruge than ever before in his life. Why was he still living like a monk? Taking the time to enjoy things, to feel something other than pain… Maybe Jes had a point.

Kaz began actively seeking out the comforts available to him. Treating himself to almond cookies, dark chocolate, Boerenkaas soup, and other foods he liked. Purchasing new dress shirts in finer materials. Buying some fluffy new towels, and a soft, voluminous robe. He even got new pillows for his bed. On his next trip for a haircut, he actually asked for a scalp massage. Bram, his barber, nearly dropped his shears in surprise. Kaz figured it would be a good test at extra contact. He’d learned that haircuts were generally fine, as there was little skin on skin exposure, but it did have to be a person he trusted. After Nina’s comments about his haircut had annoyed him enough that it stuck in his craw long after she'd left, he’d tried out a few barbers. Kaz was never going to admit this to Nina, or anyone else. He’d certainly had the kruge to spend in the aftermath of the Ice Court and taking down Van Eck and Rollins. 

Finding a barber he didn’t want to kill when they came near him had proven a minor challenge. That was until he’d found Bram Visser. The older man was discreet and calm, and reminded Kaz of his father. He had a habit of narrating the haircuts in a way that eased Kaz’s nerves. There were also his entertaining stories, and polite gossip about news in Ketterdam that Kaz always found useful. Bram had earned his trust over the last year. The first scalp massage was at his upper limit for touch, he discovered, but he managed to not pass out or punch Bram, so he called that a win. Kaz debated a hot towel shave, but quickly ruled it out for a few reasons. No need to risk killing his favorite barber over a wet towel or a straight razor at his throat. Perhaps he could splurge on some new shaving cream, though. Bram appreciated the extra business.

Bit by bit, Kaz attempted to build up his tolerance for even more touch. He upped his regular sparring sessions, practiced letting his opponents in closer. The Dregs he regularly sparred with were trusted enough for that. And he tried being more open to sensations that weren’t pain. He added new textures to his bedroom, and little knick knacks to his private office. A leather desk mat on his work table, a soft blanket over the couch, a set of finer sheets on his bed. Kaz continued to run scenarios through his mind, and his plan started to take shape. Not sure Inej would agree to his ideas, he put in alternative options as well. If she’d agree to anything at all after the way he’d been acting. When doubts crept in, he tried valiantly to focus on what he could control. As autumn waned, he sent a note to the Van Eck mansion, requesting a dinner. It galled, but he figured that if he wanted to study Jesper and Wylan, he also needed to be on better terms with them. 

An invitation to dinner arrived for the following week. Kaz showed up at the mansion, and for once, didn’t break in. While he never tired of testing their security guards and lock sets, he’d been invited this time. The housekeeper seemed startled by finding him at the front door. Good to keep them guessing. The dining room table had been mostly cleared off for the dinner. The boys had a tendency towards clutter, and the mansion often looked like explosions of crafts and science had happened. Wylan was polite with an edge of steel, and Jesper just seemed on edge. Kaz had been eating in private without his gloves for a while, but knew he wasn’t ready to do so here yet. After they had the first course, he brought up his proposal for the expansion idea. Then spent a few tense moments reassuring them it would not involve illegal activity. Wylan said he would give it some thought. I’ve given him plenty of reasons to mistrust me, I suppose.  

After that, Kaz let them lead the conversation. He watched their interactions, the easy way they touched across the table, how they occasionally finished each other’s sentences. They appeared so in tune with each other. Wylan called Jesper ‘sweetheart’ , and Jes called him ‘love’. It would be cloying, except for the genuine emotion there. He could see how happy they made each other. A year and a half together had seen Wy and Jes get closer, more bonded. Kaz found himself feeling an entire host of things. Some of it felt like pain. Some of it was envy. Could he ever have anything this carefree with Inej? Was it as carefree as it seemed? 

When dessert came, he was astounded to find delight creeping in. Spiced almond cake was one of his favorites. I’m supposed to be enjoying things more. He snagged a large piece, along with clotted cream. Letting himself enjoy cake in front of Jesper and Wylan seemed like a simple enough test. Kaz pointedly ignored the raised eyebrow and head gesture that Jes shot at his partner. Maybe he’s never seen me smile over cake before? Were he honest with himself, he might realize Jesper and Wylan had usually only really seen his wicked smiles. The ones that were more malevolence or mischief than happiness. He thoroughly relished his slice of cake to the last bite. After dinner drinks came, and he stuck with coffee while they had kvas . They didn’t invite him to stay longer. Kaz pondered why it bothered him, even as he headed back towards the Barrel. 

Ketterdam grew colder and rainier as winter moved in. A letter arrived from Inej, detailing some of her latest adventures, the most recent successful hunt, and stating that she would be spending some time in Ravka with her parents. Her writing continued to be impersonal, lacking the warmth some of her earlier missives had contained. Again, she didn’t mention missing him. Kaz couldn’t blame her after the way he’d behaved. It made some of the unkind voices clamorous, but it also paradoxically strengthened his resolve to keep trying. Other letters also came from Ravka, with the royal seal, and he ignored their contents until Nikolai himself signed one. When the fox-faced king of the troubled nation showed up as Sturmhond, things got interesting for a bit. Ravka unofficially needed help securing some titanium, and Nikolai bartered by mentioning the izmars'ya that he himself had designed. It wasn’t until the Kerch had their hands on the designs that they’d become a problem. Kaz was already aware of the danger the izmars'ya posed to The Wraith. Nikolai offered up some Fabrikator technology that would help safeguard Inej’s ship. Kaz would have robbed the Gemensbank thrice over to secure her safety. He also knew he’d be able to recruit Jesper and Wylan if it was for Inej.  

Kaz was annoyed, but not overly surprised, by his reception at the mansion when he arrived with General Nazyalensky and Nikolai, in the guise of Sturmhond. Apparently, he still wasn’t welcome to show up unannounced. It might take more time to earn back trust with the merchling and Jes. At least he’d been on the mark about them helping once they knew it was for Inej. During the heist for the titanium, he discovered how much he’d missed working with both Jesper and Wylan. They could be annoying, but Jes had been one of his trusted Crows for years, and the merchling’s brain was a marvel. Kaz had nearly forgotten how infectious Jesper’s enthusiasm could be. He also learned some interesting things about General Nazyalensky and Nikolai Lantsov that he tucked away for possible future use. The revelation of the dark demon inside of Nikolai, however, was far more interesting and perplexing. 

Once he’d safely returned to Ketterdam, he ruminated on demons. Matthias had named him demjin. Kaz pictured the huge Fjerdan saying it, and a pang of grief hit. Why the fuck do I even miss the big blond pain in the ass? Matthias would never call him a demon again. At the time, he’d scoffed at the epithet. However, Kaz had often wondered how much of himself, how much of Dirtyhands, was demon-like. Even with all of his violence, with every monstrous thing he’d done, he was still human. 

Nikolai had something altogether different inside of him. Kaz contemplated what Inej would think of the King of Ravka hosting a shadowy force. He’d seen it with his own eyes, and it still boggled his mind. Nikolai had plenty of troubles, given the state of Ravka, and threats from Fjerda and Shu Han. Nevermind the fraught relationship going on between him and his general. The tension there seemed eerily familiar. The demon inside of the young king appeared to be mostly under his control. Kaz had to question if his own personal demons were under his control. Battling his own demons was something he supposed he’d been trying to do, with his routines to practice touch, to figure out what his armor consisted of, and how to drop it. Would he ever be ready? Ever be able to offer Inej what she deserved? Kaz didn’t have those answers yet. But he could keep up his efforts. A week after the titanium heist, he sent another note to the Van Eck mansion. Perhaps he could do more to mend things with Jesper and Wylan, while studying them for his own purposes. 

Kaz got an invitation to dinner shortly before the end of the year. He was tempted to tell them the evening in question was his birthday, but decided against it. It wasn’t something he really celebrated, and no one knew when it was. He was fairly certain even Inej didn’t know. I should tell her at some point. On his way to the mansion, he actually stopped and picked up a bottle of sparkling wine as a gift for Nachtspel. He resisted the temptation to let himself in the back. Again he shocked the housekeeper, whose name was Tilde. She showed him to the dining room. He was surprised to find the table actually cleared of arts and science projects. Jesper greeted him with a smile, while Wylan was more formally polite. They thanked him for the wine. With a raised eyebrow, the merchling gave the wine an appraising look. Guess I don’t often give something without ulterior motives. 

Over various courses, they chatted a bit about the titanium heist, the technology he’d secured for Inej, and news from the Barrel and the Exchange. Kaz asked if they’d taken the time to think over the Rogues Gallery expansion proposal. They were actually interested, and Wylan had some ideas to add. Jes was sure it would be a good investment. Kaz went over part of his long term goals for the Dregs’ businesses, and managed to surprise both men. Wylan appeared both pleased and calculating, while Jesper was a bit shocked. During after dinner drinks, they considered some of the opposition Kaz might face from the other gangs, and challenges with the Merchant Council. Then it was Wylan’s turn to astound everyone, as he proposed to lend his support in whatever ways he might be able to. The merchling was already trying to shake things up on the Merchant Council, why not add in changing the nature of the Barrel as well. Wy had begun being friendly with Marina Van Verent, the heir apparent for Gert Van Verent’s Council seat. Kaz found himself with a renewed respect for Wylan's machinations. 

They talked well after Kaz's coffee and their kvas had been finished, ending on a better note, with a plan for another dinner in the new year to discuss business. Kaz left feeling gratified for both the conversations, and his observations of their partnership over the course of the evening. Something had clicked, and it had felt easier to relax in their company. They’d certainly been friendlier to his presence tonight. He wondered if the shift was because of him proposing a legitimate business venture, his goals for the Barrel, or perhaps his securing of technology for Inej’s safety. Or some combination of all of it. 

By the time he’d gotten back to the Slat, it was late. He still did his routine to practice touch, though. Remembering how Jes and Wy reached out to each other over dinner, holding hands at the table, Kaz envisioned such casual touches with Inej. He’d been able to hold her hands. It just didn’t come with ease yet. Time and practice. I can best this. He caught sight of his face in the mirror; he was smiling as he held his own forearm, and thought of Inej’s arm in his hand. She deserves my smiles too. How many times had he schooled his expression around her, trying to hide his emotions? Another part of the armor. 

That night, as he tried to sleep, he ruminated on why he’d never told Inej when his birthday was. It seemed like a simple enough thing to open up about. He hadn’t celebrated it since his father died. Even when his father was alive, Kaz’s birthday had been fraught. In part because it was just before Nachtspel started. And because his mother had died soon after he was born. There were tight lines around his father’s eyes and a hidden sadness that Kaz noticed more as each birthday came. Da went right before Jordie’s birthday. And then Jordie was gone before mine. After that, there wasn’t anyone who knew when his birthday was. Kaz turned ten freezing on the streets, and eleven in jail. Barrel rats and Bastards who were birthed from the Harbor didn’t have birthdays. The only year he’d even marked it was when he’d turned fourteen, and that had been by getting shitfaced alone with cheap kvas . He’d been officially older than Jordie would ever be. And then the next year turned to utter shit. There was the whole flirtation with Imogen, and failing miserably with trying touch. And then the bank heist that went horribly wrong when he broke his right femur. To top it all off, he’d gotten arrested yet again because of his inability to flee during a raid on the gambling hall he’d been stuck dealing at while his leg healed. He’d wondered if he’d somehow lived past when he should have, or if Jordie had cursed him. By the time his fifteenth birthday came, he had the limp and his cane. And an even nastier reputation. 

Kaz knew when Inej’s birthday was. This past summer, he’d even wished her a happy birthday in one of his letters, because she’d been out at sea when it came around. She’d thanked him, both in writing, and with a smile when she returned to Ketterdam. Sleep had not yet come to him, so Kaz got up and sat at his work table in the office, turning up a lamp. He penned a letter to Inej. In stops and starts, he tried to write slightly more personal things. The security oriented part of his mind balked. Look, you podge, your birthdate is public record if someone knew where to dig. And Inej does. Nevermind that their letters went through their own network of covert agents. So he wrote that it was his birthday, and that he’d been thinking about her. If he couldn’t offer up more touch yet, maybe he could let down some other parts of the armor. 

Brick by brick, bit by bit might work, damnit. Maybe all at once wasn't possible. You didn’t go all in on the first hand, after all. Perhaps he'd been approaching this a bit too inflexibly since the start? That thought needed more poking, but first he wanted to finish his letter to Inej. He shared that he’d gone to dinner with Jesper and Wylan. Though they hadn’t known it was his birthday, he realized it had been good to spend part of the day with people he liked. That knew him. That he trusted. He did actually trust those two idiots. Not as much as Inej, but still. He wrote of news around Ketterdam, of the latest movements from the gangs. He still didn't tell her about the stabbing. Maybe, at some point, he’d tell her in person. Kaz had forbidden his lieutenants from telling anyone about the incident. And the rest of the Dregs knew not to talk about it. He added in some vague information about the Fabrikator technology to protect The Wraith. Then he stared at the blank space where Inej often put a post script. I’ve been a fucking ass. I don’t think she’ll care that I miss her. Jesper and Wylan had mentioned missing her. And so, after he’d signed the letter, he wrote out, ‘We’ve all missed you.’ Kaz sent the letter out on the fastest vessel he could find the next morning. 

The new year came, along with fascinating news from Ravka. Zoya Nazyalensky had apparently been hiding an even bigger secret than Nikolai. A fucking dragon. Instead of a demon king, they’ll have a dragon queen. Who knew I’d be glad Kerch was comparatively boring? Kaz had the urge to talk with Inej about it, but she wasn’t due to dock for another week at least. She’d sent a short reply letter, wished him a happy birthday, and told him approximately when The Wraith should be returning. He’d reread the letter several times. The words ‘happy birthday’ had been oddly sentimental for him. After all these years, having her know his birthday touched something deep. He wondered what it would be like, to hear her say the words aloud. There were so many things he found himself wanting to talk with her about. If only his damned mind and mouth would cooperate when she was actually in front of him. 

Kaz did get to chat with Jesper and Wylan about Ravka’s news over dinner at the mansion that week. Jes raved about having had the Queen of Ravka ‘in our house!’ and Wylan smiled at his partner in an indulgent way. Kaz neglected to correct him that they’d also had the King of Ravka in their house at the time. Sturmhond was an identity that Nikolai needed to to remain covert, and Kaz still found value in keeping that secret. They also discussed the expansion idea for the Rogues Gallery further, among other things. And then Jesper asked, during a lull in the conversation over dessert, if Kaz was going to actually see Inej this time. Miraculously, he bit back a sharp retort. His enjoyment of Tilde’s layered apple pie might have contributed to his restraint. Kaz assured both Jes and Wylan that he was indeed going to see her this time. When he took his leave that night, Wylan surprised him by walking him to the front door. Then the merchling doubled down by murmuring, ‘I think you just need to get out of your own way when it comes to Inej, Kaz.’ 

Back at the Slat, Wylans’s words echoed through his head. What the fuck did he mean? How could Kaz get out of his own way? Maybe by not throwing up obstacles. Maybe by not shutting Inej out. He needed to make up for his idiocy on Inej’s last stay. His brain went in circles as he contemplated ways to apologize to her, to redeem himself. The unkind chorus scolded, ‘Figure out your shit’. Resolutely, he stood in front of the mirror for his routine. If he couldn’t quiet his mind, at least he could practice touch. As he ran his fingertips over his body, his unease and the chilly temperature of his room translated into a shiver running through him. And the waters rose up with a fury of doubt and horror. The voices in his head cackled. Even though his own hands had dropped into fists, cool corpse hands grasped him tight. He twisted and writhed, attempting escape. The rancid smell of death was a phantom in his nostrils.

It wasn’t until he tripped and fell that he managed to come back to reality. Fuck! He’d landed on his bad leg, and lay sprawled on the floor. At least the pain had snapped him out of the harbor. Kaz dragged himself to lean his back against his bed. Well, that fucking sucked. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to get his body back to some semblance of calm. Stupid to do the routine when my room was this cold. He managed to get himself upright, and then lit a fire in the tiny wood stove that warmed his bedroom. This setback made him think that he wasn’t going to be ready for any large amount of touch with Inej in less than a week. His resolve to open up to her in other ways strengthened. If I can’t do all of it, maybe I can try for the opening up part. She asked for that. Kaz had done more thinking about ‘all’ versus ‘bit by bit’ , and decided to try the latter. ‘Brick by brick’ had worked for other plans. He also got the sense that if he didn’t try something soon, Inej would give up on him completely. Something had to be better than nothing. Or pushing her away yet again.

The next week saw his nerves turn feral. As much as he tried to stay calm, his mind rebelled. Every possible, and impossible, way things could go wrong with Inej came unbidden into his thoughts. At an afternoon meeting with his lieutenants, he found himself pacing, stabbing his cane to the floor. Anika and Pim were nervous, but Keeg and Rotty were wild eyed and looked ready to bolt. It took iron will to still himself and finish the meeting. After that, he retreated to the private office upstairs and downed a shot of kvas . It took the edge off. He'd been trying not to fall back on drinking, but his nerves and his will were misbehaving. Get a hold of yourself, Brekker. Over the next few days, he had runners taking shifts at Fifth Harbor. The way he'd been feeling, he didn’t trust himself to show up in public. But the runners all had a sealed note politely asking Inej to meet with him at the Slat at her earliest convenience. And he attempted to get his mind and his nerves back to cooperating. 

Kaz got the news that The Wraith had docked. It happened to be Jeter that was on duty when Inej opened the note. She’d told him that Kaz could expect her the next morning. He dismissed the one eyed kid and told him to get some rest. Jeter didn’t always sleep well, and had taken the earliest shift at Fifth Harbor as usual. Kaz didn’t sleep well himself that night. Math was of no help. Tossing and turning, his mind host to a whole passel of asinine worries, he heard three bells sounding in the distance before he finally drifted off. Dawn woke him, and he went downstairs for a shower to try and refresh himself. Most Dregs that lived in the Slat were not up at this hour, so he gave himself the luxury of a longer shower as hot as he could stand. The heat grounded him, even if it didn’t replace lost sleep. When he got back upstairs, in his new robe, Inej was standing in his private office. He damn near dropped his cane. She could apparently still surprise him.

Chapter Text

Inej, Jesper, Wylan, and Marya stared at the headlines on the front of the two newspapers that had already come to the mansion. ‘SLAVERS DELIVERED TO THE STADHALL!’ was good, but ‘VAN VERENT IMPLICATED!’ was far better. Inej couldn’t keep the pleasure off her face. Wylan’s sideways glance and raised eyebrows just made her grin wider. Jesper glanced back and forth between them. After Jesper read out loud some of the salient details of the articles, Wy asked, amusement in his voice, ‘Is this why you smelled like tar when we greeted you yesterday?’ Jesper snorted. Inej simply said, ‘I can neither confirm nor deny.’ Both men smirked. Marya appeared a bit confused, but smiled with them. 

Feeling rather victorious, even though she knew there was still a ways to go for justice for Van Verent, Inej took the time to thoroughly enjoy breakfast. Jesper and Wylan mostly refrained from prodding her for more information. They knew enough details to figure out she was responsible for the two slavers' appearance in front of the Stadhall. However, until Van Verent was actually in Hellgate and off of the Merchant Council, she didn’t want Wylan put in a compromising position. Using her sense of accomplishment to bolster her courage, Inej decided it was time to go see Kaz. So maybe I can figure out where we stand. She attempted to not let her apprehension get the better of her as she made her way towards the Barrel. Her route across the rooftops didn’t calm her mind as much as usual. When Inej reached the Slat, the private office window was closed. Not unusual for this time of year. Don’t read too much into it. Yet she was relieved to find it wasn’t locked.

Kaz was fully dressed in one of his tailored suits, and set down a newspaper as she came in. Well, he’s seen the headlines. He nodded curtly to her in greeting, indicated the couch with a spare gesture, and wheeled his desk chair over. Inej narrowly avoided gritting her teeth. When Kaz asked a perfunctory question about her adventures, she winced internally. That answers that question. Not sure if I blame him. Not after how I lashed out last time. Or how I left without telling him. She answered his query at face value, told him about her hunt, and the delivery of Arrisen and Rozsa. Leaving out some details, like her threat of Arrisen’s wife and Rozsa’s sister, Inej then thanked him for the intel he’d provided. She wouldn’t have been able to take down Van Verent without Kaz’s assistance. He deserved the credit for that, no matter what else was going on between them. Or what isn’t going on. Inej pointed to the newspaper on the work table. ‘Specht copied the evidence that you provided tying Van Verent to Schermer Eigendom, and we delivered it to every newspaper, as well as including it with the prisoners.’ They both knew that the Stadwatch and the Merchant Council would need to corroborate the evidence, but that was only a matter of time.

She noticed him clenching his jaw as she finished. Then he launched into updates about other Merchant Council and Barrel news. He was all business, and Inej sensed he was holding back. On exactly what, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps annoyance with her. Maybe I pushed too hard, and I really did push him away. He could just tell me… but I’m not going to say that again. She tried loosening her body language, and leaned forward on the couch. Kaz’s posture didn’t change. Alright, fine. Once he’d finished his report, Inej explained she wanted to see if there would be a Merchant Council meeting called. She also wanted to get out of his private office, and away from the tension between them. Facing him with his armor in full force hurt, especially when she was fairly sure it was her fault. I don’t know how to fix this, but it doesn’t feel possible today. She slipped out of his window, and headed east to the Church of Barter. Some spying should take her mind off of Kaz.

Much as she’d predicted, an emergency meeting of the Merchant Council, sans Van Verent, had been called. She slipped in with a crowd of excited, chattering citizens, her hood up. Vanishing as she did best, she made her way to one of her favorite vantage points. The Merchant Council were arguing amongst themselves. Inej was surprised they’d let the public in, but it had made her entry easier. And she supposed they would have had a hard time keeping them out. Every newspaper in Ketterdam had a front page story. There’d even been hand drawn illustrations of the spectacle in some papers. When Jellen Radmakker banged a gavel to call the meeting to order, the crowd noise died down before the Merchant Council went silent. It’s like the entire hornet’s nest has been kicked. Inej was rather proud of that. 

Radmakker made a valiant attempt at keeping the meeting orderly. Unfortunately, Boreg, Schenck, and many of the older members were all vociferously debating the evidence and the prisoners' identities. Wylan, Karl Dryden, and Erwin Alva mostly stayed silent. Inej was unsurprised by Rikhard Torben’s defense of Van Verent. Torben was the other Merchant Council member that Kaz and she suspected was up to his elbows in the slave trade. They just didn’t have enough proof to go after him yet. What did mildly astound her were the whispers going around the crowd. ‘The Scourge of the True Seas’ and ‘The Wraith’ were on the lips of more than a few of Ketterdam’s citizens. Apparently, I’m more famous than I thought. She made sure to stay hidden in the shadows as the meeting progressed. Eventually, after Radmakker had abused his gavel more than a few times, the Merchant Council declared Van Verent under official investigation. His holdings would be frozen, and his seat on the Council was suspended until further notice. Inej smiled with satisfaction, and moved swiftly to join the boisterous crowd as they poured out of the Church of Barter to spread the gossip across the city.

Inej arrived back at the mansion just before Wylan and Jesper. She made her way to the parlor, figuring they would want to discuss the meeting. The housekeeper, Tilde, asked if Inej would like a light afternoon snack. They’d all missed lunch, but the staff were used to their somewhat odd hours. ‘Could you please bring in a tray for all three of us?’ The housekeeper smiled and agreed. When Wylan and Jesper got home, they found her in the parlor with plentiful refreshments. They ate and Wylan filled them in on some of the quieter things that had been said while the older merchers were busy being obnoxious. Apparently, there’d been rumors surrounding Van Verent ever since The Vitomir had been captured. Schenck and Torben had been trying to keep the speculation restrained to just the Council. Arrisen and Rozsa’s very public delivery had blown things wide open. Jesper could barely contain his glee. ‘Someone did a rather masterful job.’

She agreed that ‘someone’ had. Wylan then mentioned that the Merchant Council had definitely noted the murmurs in the audience. It was all but assumed who’d delivered the slavers to the Stadhall. It also wasn’t currently illegal under Kerch law to turn in criminals in the method Inej and her crew had utilized. But she knew there would be greater scrutiny for herself and her ship for a while. Perhaps it would be best to take a longer trip away from Ketterdam. They had one or two targets they could go on a hunt for. The crew could use some shore leave in other cities as well. And it had been months since Inej had spent longer than a day or two with her family’s caravan. She mentioned her idea to Jesper and Wylan; they agreed it would be prudent. 

Then Jesper asked how her meeting with Kaz went. Inej failed at keeping her face neutral. ‘What did he do now?’ She explained that Kaz had been polite. Far too polite, given how she’d acted last time. Or how she hadn’t told him when she was leaving. Neither Wylan nor Jesper knew that part. Wy wondered aloud, ‘If we just close you two in a room, do you think you could figure it out?’ Inej and Jes both turned to him in consternation. Wylan shrugged, then suggested they invite Kaz to dinner soon. Inej wasn’t sure Kaz would be more inclined to talk to her in front of Jesper and Wylan. Perhaps it would give them a chance to try, though. She could always coax him into the garden or somewhere more private. Pry the armor back a bit. If he’ll let me.

They sent an invitation for dinner to Kaz. There was no reply. Jesper fumed, and announced he would go to the Barrel and personally drag Kaz back by the cane if he had to. Inej talked him down. ‘If Kaz doesn’t want to come to dinner, forcing him won’t help anything.’ She privately kicked herself for not being brave enough to go drop into the Slat unannounced again. Concentrating instead on coordinating a new target for a hunt, and sending a letter to her parents, she informed Specht and her crew of their longer journey plans. Additional time away from Kaz might give her a better perspective. Ketterdam could be miserably damp in late fall anyway. It would be wonderful to see her family for an extended visit. She kept telling herself all the reasons it would be good to leave. Ignoring the ache in her heart whenever she thought of Kaz’s clenched jaw. Or the pained face he’d made when she’d yelled at him. When she debated whether to tell him when she was departing, the fact that he hadn’t bothered to reply to the dinner invitation stung like a knife in her chest. Ultimately, Inej decided to leave with stealth, convincing herself it was for the safety of her crew.

The Wraith left Fifth Harbor in the dark of night. Specht had reported various people observing Berth 22, from the Stadwatch to a few rough bruisers he hadn’t like the looks of. Inej decided rather than waiting for dawn, they would change up their routine. The mood of her crew as they set sail was jubilant. Riding on the high of their success, they headed towards the coast of Novyi Zem. Their next target was a slaver ship that hunted zowa, and Inej had intel on recent sightings of The Posedlia outside of Weddle. Kalu had heard of the ship in his Zemeni Navy days, and was especially eager to take it down. They were down one crew member, as Inej had allowed Alexi to stay behind in Ketterdam with their wife Neve. When she’d briefed the crew about the length of time The Wraith would be gone, they’d asked for leave. Alexi was one of few with solid roots in Ketterdam, and wanted to spend the winter with their wife.

The crew managed to maintain their morale, even though tracking The Posedlia turned out to be a task requiring patience. Much like their hunt for The Lindebloem , they took several trips along the coast before finding their target. The Wraith’s reputation had certainly grown. Slaver ships were getting quite canny at hiding. They finally tracked down The Posedlia in a hidden cove north of the Red Harbor after three weeks of searching. Kalu and Inej conferred quickly when the ship was located. His knowledge said that if The Posedlia was able to slip around them, it was fast enough to outrun them. So The Wraith took out their main mast and several sails with the first cannon volley. The absolute chaos that erupted on the slaver ship as their mast came down shortened the battle considerably. Inej figured the Zemeni could come salvage The Posedlia later. When Oxana and Shiru searched the hold, they found it blessedly empty. The Wraith rode heavy for the short trip up the coast to Weddle, but the crew was too happy with another success to gripe much.

Once Specht and Kalu had handled turning in their prisoners to the authorities in Weddle, Inej split the generous bounty among her crew, and gave them a full week’s leave. Meeting with their covert contact in the city, Rudi Kuriko, Inej gathered new intel, and sent letters. One to her parents, alerting them that she’d be arriving in Ravka for an extended stay. And two to Ketterdam. She wrote nearly identical letters to her housemates, and Kaz, letting them know she would be gone throughout the beginning of winter. Staring at the bottom of the letter to Kaz, she deliberated over whether to put something more personal down on the parchment. No. He was closed off… he won’t care. She attempted not to care either, and distracted herself with learning more of Weddle’s secrets. Inej had taken to studying various clandestine routes through any port they docked in regularly. Before the week was up, she got news from Kerch that Gert Van Verent had not only lost his Council seat, but had been sentenced to two years in Hellgate. 

One down. At least one more to go. The main thrust of her revenge, her need for justice for herself, had been achieved. There were more pieces of the slave trade to dismantle, but first, Inej had a personal side hunt, and then, she deserved a break. She had intel on Pekka Rollins’ current location, and he was long overdue for a visit. After she took a quick trip south for her ‘Lion Hunt’, they’d sail across the True Sea, and dock at Os Kervo. Satish, a Suli man who’d joined the crew the past fall, would travel to visit his own family’s caravan near Ivets. Many of her crew would enjoy some shore leave in Os Kervo, but some would travel with her up the Sokol River. Inej’s family’s caravan was set to meet them north of Balakirev. Those of her crew that often accompanied her on visits to the Suli caravans had been somewhat adopted into her extended family. Most spoke enough Ravkan to get by with communications. Some, like Shiru and Isabel, were orphans, and some, like Tajed, simply enjoyed having new found family. Tafa had asked to come this time, hoping to learn how to make more Suli cuisine. 

When The Wraith reached Os Kervo, the city was awash with horrible news. Os Alta had been bombed by Fjerda. Inej knew there were tensions between Ravka and its neighbors, but the escalation by the Fjerdans seemed extreme. She cautioned her crew to stay out of local politics, and be smart while they were on leave. Specht and Kierik agreed to make sure those remaining in Os Kervo kept their heads down. They also insisted she bring a few extra crew with her for protection, since she’d be traveling close to the capital. When Inej asked for volunteers, Oxana, Seile, and Flip eagerly stepped up. Two long boats made the journey inland along the Sokol River. Upon reaching their destination, they hauled the long boats ashore and secured them.

Her family’s caravan was camped a bit farther north of Balakirev than Inej expected. When she climbed a tree and scanned the distant town, she quickly saw why. The odd blight that had been affecting various parts of the world had touched down in Balakirev not too long ago. Some stupidly superstitious Ravkans blamed the Suli for the blight, and so the caravans had been cautious in choosing their campsites. Before she climbed down, she used a hand mirror to signal. As Inej and her party drew close, riders came out to greet them. Her Papa, Uncle Darosh, Aunt Alia, Kasim, and Arjun all led additional horses, enough to take their supplies, and for her party to mount up. Inej doubled up with Seile, who’d never been on horseback. Tajed’s grin was infectious; he’d learned to ride on one of their previous short stays. Tafa looked distinctly unsettled, but seemed bolstered by Tajed’s enthusiasm. They rode into camp to cheers. 

Inej was swiftly surrounded by people. The children had a hundred questions for the illustrious Captain Ghafa, while the older cousins helped her crew with dissembling packs and supplies. Each member of her party was annexed into a section of camp, claimed by one family or another. Enthusiastic aunties exclaimed over Shiru, Seile, and Oxana’s hair, offering to braid it for them. Tafa and Tajed were corralled to the communal cookfire without preamble. Flip, who had only been brought along to a caravan once before, and not to her family’s, looked bewildered. The Kerch boy was out of his depth here. Inej laughed, imagining that Kaz might appear much the same way if she ever got him to come to Ravka. Thoughts of Kaz sobered her for a moment. However, another wave of excited children approached her, and she let herself get swept up into the warm greetings of the caravan.

Mama and Papa offered her a firm embrace once she’d dismounted and answered at least two dozen questions from the children. Inej held on to her parents fiercely. Then various family members set about relating the news from Os Alta, and the feelings of those in the countryside around them. Many Ravkans were despondent at the prospect of yet more war. Some were vocally enraged at the Fjerdans, but hesitant to send their loved ones away to fight. And some criticized King Nikolai for not doing enough, while others faulted the rise of the Starless Saint’s cult for all of Ravka’s troubles. The Suli, as they often had, just tried to stay out of the fray. Uncle Darosh spoke of multiple caravans moving further into the wilderness, away from their usual winter camps. ‘They blame us for the blight, and surely, they’ll want to blame us for Fjerdan bombs as well.’ Inej could understand her uncle’s bitterness. Her crew listened to all of it with widened eyes.

Because of their mission, many on her crew understood a bit of what the Suli went through, having their children stolen. But the full force of the mistreatment of Inej’s people was evident in how they related the news. Oxana and Seile came to Inej after dinner the first night, and asked if she wanted either of them to offer extra eyes for guard duty. ‘You can offer, but they might not take you up on it. You’re guests of the caravan.’ It was telling how worried the caravan was, however, in that they accepted any of her crew who wanted to add to the watch rotation. Shiru, Isabel, Flip, and Tajed quickly signed themselves up as well.

Inej settled into a routine, aiding with watch duty during the early morning hours, chatting with various cousins in the afternoon, and telling stories in the evenings. The tales of The Wraith’s adventures were tailored to minimize the violence, and not just for Inej’s conscience. Others in her crew who were inclined to storytelling caught on rather quickly. Flip became a favorite with the children, with a dramatic flare for describing battles. He took to stick ‘sword’ fights with the older kids, much to the amusement of various adults. And a few of her cousins who thought he was handsome. Inej helped her mother and aunties with mending linens, and finishing quilts for the winter. Kasim and she taught knife throwing skills to Seile, Shiru, and Flip. Inej was grateful that Kasim didn’t ask for much detail about the fate of the most recent knives he’d gifted to her. He did hand her another half dozen, though. She learned new braids for her hair, and then practiced them on Shiru, Oxana, and Seile. The first week with the caravan was blissfully without further bad news from the capital of Ravka, and Inej watched as both her people and her crew relaxed a bit. 

One late morning, as Inej helped her mother with a quilt, Madhavi asked after Kaz. It was the first time they were alone together. Grateful her mother had waited until then to ask the question, she still didn’t know how to answer it. Mama noted her hesitation. ‘Just tell me all of it, meja. I can see it’s bothering you.’ So Inej proceeded to tell her mother about the last two meetings with Kaz. How she’d lost her patience and been harsh to him. How he’d looked stricken. How the pain on his face haunted her. And then how he’d acted when she was last in Ketterdam. She admitted with guilt that she’d essentially snuck away from him twice now. Mama clucked her tongue, and looked deep in thought for a while as her deft hands worked her needle and thread. Inej, distracted, poked her finger with her own needle. Of all the stupid ways to stab myself. While she sucked on the injured digit, her mother started speaking quietly. 

‘I think that maybe you’re both more troubled than you realize, meja... Maybe even more than I realized the last time we spoke of this. It seems to me that Kaz cares for you very deeply, even if he’s unable to say it. You’re right in thinking you may have hurt him, but he’s hurt you sometimes too, with his inability to talk to you. Give him more time, meja. And give yourself, and your handsome thief, some grace.’ Inej blinked back tears. Her mother had a way of getting to the center of things. Part of her wanted to protest, and ask how much longer she was supposed to be patient for him. But hadn’t she worried that her very impatience is what had driven the current wedge between them? And Kaz… had been polite with her. Patient with her. He hadn’t called her out for her harsh words. Anyone else, he would have met with vitriol for talking to him in that fashion. Inej had previously discussed with her mother that it was complicated between her and Kaz. That hadn’t stopped being true. Kaz continued to support her in her mission, both on the water and in Ketterdam. He kept fighting alongside her, even if she’d shut him out several times now. Inej nodded. ‘I’ll try, Mama.’

Though Inej settled back into life in the caravan over the long visit, it was different in many ways. These included the presence of her crew, her reputation and status, and the underlying tension of what was happening in Ravka. Rumors of a possible Fjerdan invasion were circulating in Balakirev and the surrounding villages. Though the Suli limited contact, they were still occasionally trading supplies and crafts. Inej and her crew remained vigilant, and continued to be a part of the watch rotation. Weeks passed, and she thrilled in getting to spend so much time among her people. Occasionally, she would experience a pang of missing Ketterdam, but more of missing Jesper and Wylan, their company and their antics. Marya, and her gentle presence and beautiful paintings. Kaz, and his… everything. His brooding and dour face. His rock salt voice telling her about the latest intrigues. His eyes flashing with an idea. His arms around her, the few times that he’d embraced her. Damnit, brain, must you show me everything about the Bastard worth missing?

One afternoon, Arjun alerted the camp of a mirror signal coming from the north. Kierik, and one of her newest former Dregs crew members, Senn, had letters and news. Her second mate reported that there had been rather little trouble for her crew on leave in Os Kervo. Fortunately, they currently had no Fjerdans on The Wraith, and Shiru was safe with Inej in the caravan. Kalu had come close to an argument in a tavern when a discussion of Zemeni naval involvement grew heated, but Specht had intervened. After Kierik’s updates, Senn handed over a thin pile of letters that had arrived for Inej. Her family invited them to stay the night before returning to Os Kervo. Inej found a quiet moment to go over the letters that evening. 

Two letters were from the mansion, in Jesper’s somewhat haphazard scrawl. It has gotten neater since he became Wylan’s ‘secretary’. Jes wrote of he and Wylan’s adventures, various happenings around the city, within the Merchant Council, and about Marya’s progress. Her mental health seemed to stabilize the longer she was with them in the mansion, and she had far more good days than bad now. Jes also let her know that Kaz had actually reached out to them for help with something, and had visited the mansion for dinners. The ‘something’ was vague, but Jesper’s language suggested a heist that involved her somehow. Curious on several fronts. His last letter closed with ‘Happy Nachtspel’ . 

The letter from Kaz took her somewhat aback. Compared to his manner on their last meeting, or even the last letter in his tidy handwriting, this letter was more relaxed. And far more revealing than Kaz tended to be. He wrote about it being his birthday. Inej checked the date at the top of his letter and filed the information away. She’d always suspected it was around the end of the year, but had never gotten confirmation. It felt like a prize, being given the knowledge so freely. Especially given how things stood between them when she’d left clandestinely again. Kaz wrote about going to dinners with Jes and Wy, and referred to some technology he’d procured for her. That must be the ‘help’ Jes referenced. He continued more dryly with news from the city, some of it differing from Jesper’s viewpoint. And then his postscript caught and held her gaze. ‘We’ve all missed you.’ The inclusive language intrigued her. He could mean Jesper and Wylan, he could mean all of the Dregs. But it most certainly included Kaz himself. What a wily way to say it. So fucking HIM. Inej wanted to simultaneously throw the letter, and clutch it to her. How is he so frustratingly devious and attractive in a damned letter? 

Penning a reply, Inej wished Kaz ‘happy birthday’. Seeing the words on the page, she recalled Kaz wishing her the same that past summer. It had marked a change from the Kaz she’d known for years. He hadn’t acknowledged anyone’s birthday in the Dregs, even his own. And now I know his. Huh. She also did some rough math, projecting when they might be back in Ketterdam. She put that information in her reply to her housemates as well. And wished all of them a belated happy Nachtspel.

When Kierik and Senn departed the next morning, they took her reply letters, and instructions for Specht. She wanted The Wraith ready to sail within the first week of the new year, though she wasn’t exactly sure when her party would be returning. They also needed to send word to Satish to return to the port. Kierik had let her know that they’d conducted some hull repairs while docked in Os Kervo. He’d also recommended that sometime in the spring or summer, they would need to do a more extensive hull cleaning and recoating. She figured they could plan that for Ketterdam, after a late winter or early spring hunt or two. It felt good, giving herself an extended rest here with her people, but it would also be nice to spend more time with Jesper, Wylan, and Marya. And Kaz, if he would let her.  

At the turn of the year, as the caravan celebrated the Saints day and the new beginning, they got stunning news. Fjerda had attempted a pincer attack from the north at Arkesk, and the south at Os Kervo. Inej listened as her Uncle Darosh and Malik repeated what they’d learned in Balakirev. Ravkan forces had ultimately been victorious, but several revelations had come to light. King Nikolai had a secret demon within him, revealed during the battle at Arkesk against a horrific weapon. More amazing, though, was the news about General Zoya Nazyalensky, who had turned into a dragon. She was now being hailed as Sankta Zoya. Everyone in the caravan, Suli and Inej’s mixed crew alike, reacted with varying degrees of shock. ‘A dragon!?’ ‘A Saint!?’ ‘A demon!?’ There’d been a conclave called in Os Kervo, wherein Nikolai stepped down as king, and Sankta Zoya had been declared the new queen of Ravka. The new half Suli queen. That revelation alone was impressive. Inej wondered at the implications for her people with the sudden change in rulership, and what looked like possible peace with Ravka’s neighbors. 

In the coming days, Inej prepared herself and her party to journey back to Os Kervo. There were gifts of spices and linens to pack, and final stories to retell to enrapt children. She took some time alone with her parents. Inej was both reluctant to leave, and itching to get back to her ship. Before they could make a decision on which day to depart, a messenger approached the caravan on horseback wearing royal livery. The Suli eyed the young man’s morning arrival with some trepidation, but invited him in to deliver his message. 

Zoya Nazyalensky and Nikolai Lanstov extended an invitation to those present who wished to attend her coronation. Including one Captain Ghafa. Inej stared at the messenger. How does he even know my name? The young man confirmed the invitation was in earnest. The new queen truly desired to have the Suli present at her coronation. The caravan was abuzz with the request. Inej approached the messenger and asked about the possibility of bringing any of her crew. ‘I was told specifically to invite Captain Ghafa, and that she could bring two attendants, ma’am.’ The young man calling her ‘ma’am’ made her lips twitch with amusement. 

As the caravan discussed the invitation, the messenger waited patiently. Inej suggested they feed him lunch before giving him an answer and sending him on his way. He glanced at her with gratitude. The queen’s coronation would take place in several days' time. Their debate was more about who would attend, not so much if they would. A half Suli queen taking the throne and personally inviting the Suli to the capital was a moment in history few wanted to miss. They also didn’t wish to leave the current camp unguarded. Ultimately, it was decided they would send a mixture of seers, elders, and youngsters. At least one member from each family group in the caravan would be represented. Inej pointed out that all but two of her crew would also remain behind and continue to be a part of the watch rotation. The messenger assured them they could camp a small number of vagons on a protected part of the palace grounds. They sent him back towards Os Alta with a full stomach, and a formal acceptance for the invitation.

Inej decided on having Oxana and Flip accompany her. Out of the crew with her, they would draw the least attention from foreign dignitaries. They'd be able to blend with the crowd, and gather intel while they were there as well. The next two days were a flurry of activity, with decisions made on who would comprise the Suli party, and getting the finest silks and accessories ready. Inej was surprised when her Uncle Darosh approached her in the evening the day after the messenger came. ‘I’ve told your parents they will both go with you. Atima will represent our family for me. I want them both to witness this with you.’ She’d seen her father and uncle having a heated debate, and now she understood why. No words seemed fitting, so she just wrapped her arms around her uncle in gratitude.

On the morning before the coronation, Inej sat with her parents in their vagon, while Oxana and Flip rode alongside. When they reached Os Alta, they were met with curious stares from citizens. It was a bit unusual for this many members of a caravan to enter the capital, especially in vagons . Four mounted men in royal livery arrived shortly, announcing they were an escort personally sent by Nikolai Lantsov. Inej noted with approval that the men weren’t visibly armed. It was a show of respect; even an unarmed royal escort assured their safe passage through the outer city. Their escort rode in front and behind, and led them through the gates of the Grand Palace grounds. Inej could see where the palace had been damaged, but scaffolding had already been erected and repairs were underway. Their escorts showed them where they could make camp, and the Suli set about doing just that. 

The next morning was a whirlwind, with everyone getting dressed in their finery. Inej combined one of her usual quilted vests and leather pants with a borrowed silk shirt and sash from her mother. She hid her various Saints named blades in her outfit by matter of course. Oxana and Flip had figured out appropriate outfits back at the caravan, and appeared perfectly presentable. Inej watched as her parents exited their vagon. They looked stunning. Madhavi’s hair, like many of the other women, was intricately braided with flowers. Inej had opted for a simpler braid, the one she generally wore aboard The Wraith. As the Suli group gathered, Inej noted her Aunt Alia and Arjun among the jackal masked seers. Their escort from the day before approached on foot, and offered to show them to the chapel for the main ceremony. Inej wasn’t the only one astounded when they were led to the front of the chapel, where Nikolai Lantsov himself greeted them. 

He looks SO familiar… The handsome consort met her eyes directly as he approached. In a voice meant only for her ears, Nikolai said, ‘Captain Ghafa. It’s a pleasure. Please direct your attendants to the second row.’ Inej inclined her head, and let Oxana and Flip know where to take their seats. Nikolai turned to the rest of the Suli, and addressed them in a manner that carried around the chapel. ‘Honored Suli guests, please join me in the front row.’ There were murmurs throughout the chapel. Nikolai cast a broad smile that had a bite to it around the huge room. Inej had seen a similar smile used by Kaz before. It had the desired effect. She imagined that a man known to have a demon within him found it easier to quell dissent. The Suli took most of the first row, save for the end where there was a couple dressed in peasant clothes. Inej proudly took her place between her parents. Nikolai waited until all of the Suli were seated before taking the end closest to the aisle. 

The coronation itself was rather a lot of pomp and circumstance. Inej would have guessed that Sankta Zoya was nearly as impatient for it to be over as some of the audience. There was a moment, though, when the new queen stood in her dragon crown, that the very air seemed alive with hope. For a new kind of future for Ravka, as well as the Suli, and the Grisha. We’re watching history unfold before us. Inej sought her parents’ hands, and held them tight. After the ceremony in the chapel concluded, Nikolai rose and beckoned to their escort. ‘Please follow these attendants to the throne room, and continue to enjoy our hospitality.’ To Inej, he flashed a broad grin, and asked that she be sure to let him find her at some point later so he could introduce her personally to the queen. The curious turn of phrase delighted her, and she wondered how much this man knew of her reputation as the Wraith.

The throne room was not as spacious as the chapel, and felt immensely crowded. Still, Inej was thrilled to be present. She stayed with her parents for a while, observing everything. Oxana and Flip were roaming, and she knew they’d be listening for any useful information. Nikolai found Inej after a half hour or so, his sly grin infectious. Again, he whispered her title. Then he offered his elbow courteously. ‘I’m so glad we have a chance to officially meet. I’m rather fond of your work. My country owes you and your crew quite a debt of gratitude.’ He continued to lay on praise, and mentioned a bit of technology he’d designed that was waiting for her back in Ketterdam. Inej did her best not to stare at him, especially when he steered them towards the new queen. Inej had met Zoya once before, in Ketterdam just before the auction. Back then, Zoya had been part of the Grisha Triumvirate, and not a queen who could transform into a dragon.

Inej used every bit of her experience as a performer to keep calm as she spoke with a living saint. Who greeted her by name. The moment with Sankta Zoya was fleeting, but it left an impact. The new queen was gracious, merry, and warned that quite a few people present would be interested in finding the Captain of The Wraith. Nikolai vowed to his queen that anything Inej needed, she would have. Sankta Zoya even spoke Suli. Then Inej saw the woman who’d been seated at the end of the front row of the chapel. A glimpse of white hair under a shawl prickled Inej’s senses, but Nikolai whisked her away again. The royal consort introduced her to his sister, Linnea Opjer, who then talked her ear off about cannons. Inej wished Specht and Kalu were there; they would have enjoyed the conversation far more. About the time Inej wanted to escape, a light tap on her shoulder was a welcome interruption. She turned to find a curvaceous, blonde Fjerdan woman standing next to a slender Fjerdan man. They were dressed fine enough to be royalty. Linnea’s eyes went wide, and the woman backed away with a curtsy. Inej bowed politely, unsure as to why this couple wanted her attention. 

The woman leaned in, and murmured, ‘Inej. It’s Nina. Please forgive the disguise.’ Then she quickly straightened and held out her hand. ‘Mila Janderslat. And may I introduce my betrothed, Prince Rasmus?’ Inej blinked in shock, and gaped openly. What!? The crown prince of Fjerda inclined his head as Inej bowed again, far deeper this time, and attempted to regain her composure. Nina was wearing a completely different face and engaged to the heir to the Fjerdan throne? Saints, she’s been BUSY. No wonder I haven't gotten any letters! 

Mila Janderslat tucked her hand around Inej’s elbow, and asked if there was somewhere private they might talk. Inej blinked again, and inquired if they didn’t have a suite in the castle. ‘Yes, but it might look a bit suspicious if the Prince takes two unmarried women to it.’ The whispered reply made her blush. Inej then realized she could utilize her parent’s vagon. She turned to Mila… Nina… and asked her and the prince to follow. Today is just full of surprises! Inej located her parents in the group of Suli gathered at one end of the throne room, and quietly asked permission to use their vagon for a private meeting. Atima and Madhavi appeared momentarily confused, but gave their blessing. Inej also asked them to keep an eye out for Oxana and Flip, and explain to them where she was if they asked. 

The next couple of hours were a tearful reunion, a plethora of interesting information, and a bit of Prince Rasmus looking out of his depth. Inej learned some of what Nina had been doing in Fjerda. She could tell Nina was withholding some details, but given the delicacy of her mission, and her current standing as the betrothed of the heir, that wasn’t unexpected. Inej pointedly asked how much Rasmus could be trusted. Nina and Rasmus both laughed freely. Nina assured her that she trusted the prince with her life and her real identity. So Inej shared some highlights of her last year’s hunts. Rasmus grinned, and affectionately caressed Nina’s hand on his leg. ‘The infamous Captain Ghafa of The Wraith is your dear friend Inej? You never cease to amaze me.’ Inej couldn't help but notice the happy blush on Nina’s cheeks, and the twinkle in her eyes. She looks so amazingly happy. Nina must have seen or sensed something in Inej’s manner. She asked about Kaz.

Closing her eyes to gather her patience, Inej tried to answer simply. Nina was having none of it, and pried into the heart of the matter while Rasmus watched them both with fascination. ‘It sounds like the stupid Bastard is having trouble getting out of his own way… but maybe you’re throwing up obstacles too.’ Inej winced at Nina’s pointed observation. It sounded so much like her mother’s words, it was uncanny. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you need to keep being patient with him. And yourself. But if he fucks up, let me know, and I’ll come swooping down to Kerch to rearrange his skeleton.’ Rasmus and Inej both sputtered at that. The prince asked with curiosity if they were, in fact, discussing the infamous Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel. Nina answered tartly, ‘Yep, the very Bastard I was telling you about.’ He shot Inej an appraising look, and quietly remarked that he hoped she and Kaz figured it out. ‘You deserve to be happy, like your friend here makes me.’ Nina squeezed his thigh and leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. The prince blushed crimson, which made Nina giggle fiendishly. Inej glanced away, feeling heat on her own face.

‘I want to catch up more, but we’re bound to have been missed by now.’ Nina gave Inej instructions on how they could exchange letters again, and permission to share that information with Jesper, Wylan, and even Kaz. Prince Rasmus expressed how pleased he was to meet one of Nina’s ‘oldest friends’. He also said he’d be sure to welcome The Wraith in Djerholm if she needed to dock there again. Inej inclined her head to the prince. Friends in high places seems to be my theme today. Inej hugged Nina fiercely, and walked with them back towards the throne room. She slipped away and found her parents again. Mama asked her if all had gone well with her meeting. Inej nodded, and let them know she’d needed to catch up with an old friend. She took some time to help herself to the ample food present, as the whirlwind of the afternoon had left her hungry. As the hour grew late, she located Oxana, and then Flip in the crowds. Once she’d collected her crew, they joined the Suli group in returning to their small camp for the evening. In the morning, they’d travel back to rejoin the caravan. From there, Inej would make haste to return to her ship. 

Chapter Text

Kaz thought, Everything I figured out that could go wrong, and I didn’t foresee this one. Thanks, brain.

“Hello, Inej.” He was grateful he’d managed not to sputter. She was dressed in her captain’s coat, quilted vest, heavier shirt, form fitting pants, boots, and knives a plenty. Her raven hair was coiled at her neck, and she’d lowered her hood. She was absolutely stunning, looking dangerous and beautiful. He tried to ignore the effect the sight of her was having on every part of him. And thanked his past self for getting a new robe large enough to hide one of those effects. Bloody Saints.

“I did tell Jeter you could expect me in the morning. Suppose I’m a bit early.” Her voice had a certain amusement as she glanced up and down, with one eyebrow raised slightly. 

He realized this might be the first time Inej had seen him in a robe. Absolutely nothing but a robe. Even though he’d been shirtless in front of her plenty of times before, he felt far more exposed at the moment. Good thing I was already red from the hot shower. His brain was scattered, and he was trying to gather up all the pieces, along with his dignity. “You’re often early. I might have guessed. Ah…” Kaz grasped for words, “Mind waiting while I get dressed?” 

“Not at all,” she replied as she crossed to the small couch in the corner. Her voice was calm, but he sensed that while she’d been amused to find him in his current state, she was possibly unamused with him in general. He didn’t blame her.

“Thanks,” he managed politely as he crossed to his bedroom. At least his mouth was cooperating so far. Once behind his closed bedroom door, he exhaled loudly. His nerves were a jangle of ringing alarms. Fucking Ghezen. Kaz got dressed as swiftly as he could, and stared at his gloves in indecision. Given the way his mind was behaving, and what he had planned, he figured the gloves were a piece of armor he might need to keep in place. He slid them on, took up his cane, and returned to the private office. 

Kaz crossed the room again, and closed and locked the office door. Few people would be up this early, but he didn’t want this meeting interrupted. Maybe I should get this office soundproofed. Jesper had mentioned experimenting with soundproofing at the mansion. Inej’s eyes silently followed his movements. He turned and debated where to sit. I feel like a fucking teenager. Nevermind that he was, at nineteen, technically still a teenager. Before he made a seating decision, he would present the Fabrikator technology from Nikolai. That’s a good start.  

“I have something for you, the device I mentioned in my letter. It’s for The Wraith, to protect you and your crew. I secured it from Nikolai; it will help detect the izmars'ya. It’s an early warning system.” He went to his safe to get out the small metal box. “I also have a solid lead on a Fabrikator who might be willing to join your crew to operate it.”

“Ah. Thank you. Nikolai was bragging about that technology a bit, and mentioned he’d passed it on to you.” 

He blinked. “You saw Nikolai?” Had he missed something? Or had her last short letter been lacking information? He handed her the metal box as she answered him.

“My parents' caravan was camped north of Balakirev before the coronation, and we got a personal invitation from Zoya and Nikolai. Apparently, he’s kept in touch with my parents, in an effort to be on better terms with the Suli in Ravka. And now that there’s a half Suli Queen, there’s even more momentum being put into those relations. They invited people from my family’s caravan to the coronation. I got to watch Sankta Zoya get crowned, sitting between my parents, Kaz. It was amazing! And I got to see Nina! It was quite the event.” Inej related all of this with a joyous glow to her face. 

Kaz was momentarily speechless. Watching Inej be this happy filled an emptiness in him he wouldn’t have been able to name. Nikolai knew who Inej’s parents were because of Kaz’s negotiations to find them. The Ghafas hadn’t mentioned in any of their letters that the King, now consort, had kept in contact. Inej had gone to the coronation of the half-Suli Dragon Queen. And seen Nina. He reminded himself he needed to speak. And figure out where to sit. He ended up choosing his desk chair, but wheeled it to sit across from Inej on the couch so he could face her, closer than the last time she’d been here.

“Sounds like you had quite the adventure in Ravka, then,” he paused, and searched his brain for more words. Why did his mouth fail him so quickly? Ask her more about it, you podge. “Care to tell me more?”

Inej nodded, and proceeded to tell him about her visit with her family’s caravan. How her grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins were doing. How part of her crew had spent time with them. She went into detail about the coronation, her impressions of Zoya as the new queen, and the fact that she’d sworn she’d seen someone who looked like Sankta Alina. What it meant to her to sit between her parents and the other Suli, at the coronation of a new era of Ravkan rule. Inej was ecstatic. He couldn’t get enough of watching her be this excited. Then she told him about Nina, and the Bonewitch’s new love, one Prince Rasmus of Fjerda. Kaz absorbed all of this news, asking a few questions here and there for clarification. The revelation about Nina and the Prince of Fjerda was especially fascinating. 

When she finished, he remarked, “Seems we have friends in high places all over.” 

“Indeed,” she tilted her head slightly before she changed topics, “Jesper and Wylan said you’ve been to the mansion a few times now, talking about an expansion?”

Kaz was relieved to have something else easy to talk about, and told Inej the basics about the Rogues Gallery expansion plans. She nodded a few times, and appeared pleased. “Wy said he was refreshingly surprised to find you coming with legitimate business rather than illegal jobs.”

Of course the merchling said that. “I’ve been trying to steer all of the Dregs’ businesses in that direction. We’ve eliminated or released nearly all of the indentures in the clubs at this point. Unless they serve to protect someone, like a Grisha.” He’d told her of his long term goals a while back, but wanted to remind her he was still committed to it. “That reminds me, I have some more intel on Councilman Torben possibly being involved in some shady deals with slavers. Roeder found out some interesting details. We still haven’t been able to nail down solid proof on illegal activity here, but I think we’re getting closer.”

Inej’s eyes got a fierce glint. “I know that merch is up to something.”

He rose, returned to his safe, and grabbed out a folder with all of the information he’d gathered recently on Rikhard Torben. Handing it over to Inej, he then sat in his desk chair again. He could keep stalling, ask her more questions, but he knew if he kept delaying, he’d lose all courage.

“Inej… about the last time you were here…”

She shifted, sitting forward a bit on the couch. “Yes?”

“I…” Nerves, mouth, and mind all failed at once. You thought of a hundred ways to say this, just pick one. The lamest possible solution came out then. “I could have handled those two weeks better.”

“That’s putting it mildly, Kaz.” Her voice wasn’t harsh, but he thought he heard displeasure.

“I know,” he tried desperately to manage his tone. He was frustrated with himself, not Inej. “I… there’s some things I want to say… to tell you… but I’m shit at actually talking to you about things sometimes.”

She pursed her lips before she replied dryly, “I’ve noticed.”

Kaz had the wildly terrible thought that touch might actually be easier than what he was currently attempting. Her lips looked immensely kissable. Not remotely helpful, brain. He stared at the floor, because looking her in the face was suddenly overwhelming. One gloved hand was clenched on his cane, the other gripping the arm of his desk chair. Just breathe. Inej was being incredibly patient. He could trust her with any of his secrets. His mouth and mind just needed to start working again. I can do this. It’s just a story.

“You said… that I could just talk to you, try to open up…”

Her voice was curious now, “Yes. I… I maybe could have handled how I said that a bit better.” 

He blinked, but didn’t raise his gaze. “I… you… you weren’t wrong… I’d like… I’d like to try a bit.”

“Okay… I’m listening.”

When he started, his voice came out quiet, a gravel path into his memory. “You’ve asked… a few times… what happened to my brother.” Inej shifted again, he could hear her, sense the movement. He didn’t look up, but focused on a part of the pattern in the rug in front of him. “I… I want to tell you the basics. It’s hard… I’ve never told anyone this…” He trailed off, his nerves fraying.

Inej murmured, “I keep your secrets, Kaz.”

“Yes. You do.” His eyes flicked up to her face, and then back to the rug. The glimpse of her tender expression nearly broke his resolve. But her words had reassured him. He tightened his grip on his cane and continued. “When I was nine, in the fall of that year, my father died in a plow accident. It was…” The blood soaked wheat flashed in his memory. Jordie had tried to shield his eyes. But he’d seen enough. The horse, tangled in the lines, its leg broken, screaming in distress. The plow tilted oddly over crushed wheat. His father’s form, barely recognizable. Blood spattered on entirely too many things. Jordie’s hand wrapped over his eyes, the other arm dragging him away from the field. Kaz fought the rise of bile, and forced the memory back into its vault. He couldn’t go into this part, or he wouldn’t be able to continue.

“It was bad. Really bad. Then it was just Jordie and me… There was no other family. No one there to take us in. Jordie sold our farm, and we came to Ketterdam with the money from the sale. He’d just turned thirteen when we got here.” Kaz swallowed. Just concentrate. It’s a story. He found a different part of the rug pattern to occupy his eyes. Inej was silently listening.

“Jordie tried to find work at the Exchange. He was determined to start as a runner. I stayed in our room at the boarding house, bored out of my mind.” Details swarmed him like hornets. Just stick to the facts. She’d heard bits of this already, the day Kaz had forced Pekka Rollins to his knees, begging. That image gave him the strength to continue. “I wanted to go out one night, and that’s when we got caught up in the swindle. It was run by Rollins, with a whole team.” Inej’s quiet patience was a blessing and a curse. His hand, too tight on his cane, started to ache. “For weeks, Jordie worked for Jakob Hertzoon. Then they baited the hook with a big score, and Jordie’s greed got the better of him. He signed over all of our money to Hertzoon. I… I don’t actually know how many others Rollins fleeced with that whole operation, but it had to be more than just us… We were just two pigeons in a whole flock.”

Yet another section of rug pattern caught his eyes. Kaz knew the hardest part was next, but he was all in on this part of the journey now. Inej said nothing while he flexed his gloved hands. “Jordie and I ended up on the streets, at the beginning of winter, and just before the firepox hit… Jordie got it first… and then me…” He closed his eyes. No amount of patterns in a rug would help. Nausea was rumbling in his guts, but there was nothing but bile to throw up. He hadn’t had breakfast yet. Gripping his cane and the chair as tight as he could, he forced the next words out.  “It’s a bit of a blur, but the bodymen picked us both up. Thought we were both dead. It’s not like they were checking pulses. We were thrown onto the Reaper’s Barge... And I came to in a pile of corpses.” 

Inej made the first tiny sound. A sharply indrawn breath. Kaz refused to open his eyes. He couldn’t take her pity or her horror. And he knew they would be there on her face when he finished. “I waited for what seemed like forever, for someone, anyone, to come back with more bodies... So I could get off that stinking barge. No one came…  I was so thirsty… I knew… I knew if I didn’t try to make it to shore… I would be just another body. But I was so weak… I… I was a good swimmer, but I… I knew I couldn’t make it alone… I was so tired.” Lost in the details, almost lost in his head now, he didn’t want to finish, but he knew he had to. He blocked out everything, even Inej’s breathing, and let himself slip into the past. Kaz Brekker faded, and a terrified Kaz Rietveld told her the worst of it.

“I… I pushed Jordie’s body into the water… and… I used it… I… I used him… because he was floating… and I kicked myself back to the shore… I… his skin… it was… it was cold… it was horrible…so loose… it came off… it was so dead… it’s why touch is so hard… I was so tired… I made it, but… I didn’t close his eyes… I just let him float away… I didn’t even say goodbye…” A sob sounded from somewhere. 

“Sometimes, when I touch skin, I’m back in the harbor… and I… and he’s there… and the corpses are there… and…” The water rose up, darkness washed over him, and Kaz was drowning on dry land. 

Chapter Text

Inej felt a compulsion to get back to The Wraith , and return to Ketterdam. The farewells with her family were handled the evening after the coronation. Final gifts were imparted, bags packed, and her crew joined the central fire that night. Inej’s parents reminded her that any visit was welcome, short or long. They’d thoroughly enjoyed having her with the caravan for over a month, but they also knew she couldn’t do that very often. ‘And think about bringing your friends from Ketterdam. Even your thief, if he’ll come.’ Madhavi had said the last bit with a knowing glint in her eyes. 

The next morning, Inej and her party were brought to their longboats. The journey along the Sokol River felt like it took too long. They were in Os Kervo soon enough, however, and Specht and Kierik welcomed them all aboard The Wraith. Inej took the time to inspect her ship while her crew traded stories from the last few weeks. Flip showed off his new knife throwing skills to Senn. Tafa and Tajed reorganized the galley with additional spices and supplies brought back from the caravan. Oxana and Kalu had a conversation on the state of Ravkan naval technology, and the potential threat posed by the izmars'ya. Satish and Inej talked about the implications of a half Suli queen. They all worked towards readying the ship, and The Wraith set sail the following morning.

Even though the winter whipped cold spray at them the entire journey south, they didn’t hit any major storms. Upon their arrival at Berth 22, they were greeted by morning fog. Inej saw Jeter approach the rail and wait for her. She was glad to note he was dressed in a thick, warm overcoat, given the bitterly damp winter air. It always felt that while Ravka got far colder in winter, Kerch made up for it in miserable weather and humidity. When she had a spare moment and approached, the one-eyed kid handed her a note sealed with the black crow head stamp that Kaz used. Then he spoke just loud enough for her alone to hear. ‘Captain Ghafa… he, uh, had all of us here with this note… but… ah, ma’am… he’s been… um…’ Inej raised an eyebrow at Jeter’s nervous stammering, and was about to tell him to get on with it, but realized he needed her patience more than Kaz. ‘He’s, uh, been really out of sorts the last few days…’ Jeter paused, eyes darting around. ‘Please don’t tell him I said that. He’ll skin me.’

She tried to smile reassuringly. Jeter, and honestly Kaz himself, might not realize it, but a certain Bastard had a soft spot for the kid she’d been able to see from the beginning. Kaz had made snide comments about taking in sickly strays, but never within Jeter’s hearing that she’d witnessed. Inej had been able to see through his veneer, and noticed how Kaz made sure Jeter got medical attention, more than enough food, and felt useful to the Dregs. He’d even assigned the kid Inej’s old bedroom. The feeling of reserved affection might go both ways, if Jeter was willing to risk his boss’s wrath in order to tell her that Kaz was ‘out of sorts’. She promised him she would keep quiet about his revelation. The one-eyed kid bobbed his head and thanked her profusely. He would normally have started back to the Slat, but today it seemed that he was waiting for her to open the note. Inej slid a knife under the wax seal. In Kaz’s tidy handwriting, the note asked her to meet with him at the Slat at her earliest convenience. 

He actually invited me again. It felt a bit like a peace offering. It was already well into the morning, though, and there was much to do to get The Wraith settled. She also knew she’d be better off visiting Kaz after a good night’s sleep at the mansion. Shouldn’t go there tired… like the time I yelled at him. Inej told Jeter to let Kaz know to expect her the next morning. He nodded and hurried off towards the Slat.

After dealing with the Harbor Master questioning their long stay in Ravka, Inej was glad she’d decided to put off seeing Kaz until the next day. There was still additional scrutiny on her warship, apparently. That used up most of my patience all by itself. Kierik and Specht had finally wandered over and loomed behind her. The Harbor Master suddenly had far fewer questions. She was wrapping up the last of the orders for Specht and her crew, when she heard Jesper’s hail from Berth 22. Wylan and Jes were waiving when she glanced their way. There’s my rascals! As she often did, she tossed them each a bag, and then hauled a third one down with her as she joined them on the dock. ‘Is it just me, ‘Nej, or are you traveling less light as time goes by?’ Inej poked Jesper in the ribs. Wylan grinned, until he went to lift his bag over his shoulder. ‘Jes might have a point. What’s IN here?’

She scowled at them both with affection. ‘I visited the caravan for a month. I got a lot of gifts. There’s knives in that one, Wy.’ On their way back to the mansion, Jesper and Wylan asked her approximately three hundred and seventeen questions about her time away. She waited until they were actually inside and alone before telling them about Nina. Jesper’s squeals of shock and delight might have made the neighborhood dogs howl. ‘The CROWN PRINCE OF FUCKING FJERDA!?’ Inej couldn’t help but laugh, given she’d wanted to react in the same way, but had been in front of said prince. Wylan attempted to get Jesper to lower the volume, given the nature of the news. She fielded follow up questions to the best of her ability, but she told them there were definitely some details Nina had held back on. ‘At least we can write to her again. And she looks SO happy. Rasmus obviously adores her.’ They spent a few moments reflecting on how they all thought that Nina's current joy was well deserved.

At dinner that evening, her housemates detailed how the trial and sentencing for Bert Van Verent had gone. The Merchant Council had been thorough in the investigation of all of the evidence. Once it became clear that there was more than enough proof tying Van Verent to the slave trade, justice and sentencing had been swift. Van Verent’s political rivals had swooped in to make claims to the businesses held only in his name. And there’d been much debate about Van Verent’s council seat. Technically, it was supposed to be offered to family first. But both Van Verent’s son and brother had been implicated in slave trade deals as well. Arrisen and Rozsa had delivered quite thorough testimony. The current candidate for the council seat was a niece, Marina Van Verent, who had no ties to illegal dealings. She also had seemingly little experience with the business of the Merchant Council. Some of the older Councilmen viewed this as a bonus, meaning they might have sway over Marina. Wylan personally thought she was shrewder than she let on, and was willing to vote her on to the seat. No decisions had been made yet, however. 

Jesper and Wylan told Inej of their involvement in the heist with Kaz to aid Sturmhond’s mission to secure titanium for Ravka. As she listened, a few pieces fell into place in her head. Inej managed to keep her face neutral as the realizations came in quick succession. Kaz certainly had multiple motives for everything he did. He’d not only gained something for her, but he’d come out ahead, and Sturmhond and Ravka owed him another favor. Wait… he helped Sturmhond, and gained a piece of Ravkan technology for me. One that Nikolai bragged that he designed… NO WONDER Nikolai looked so familiar! 

The realization connected to glimpses of Sturmhond from the time surrounding Kuwei’s auction, and explained a few other things that had been percolating in her brain. She filed that knowledge away for future use. No need to reveal the royal consort’s alter ego to Jesper and Wylan at the moment. Meanwhile, they’d gone on to talking about how Kaz had been coming over for dinners. And using the front door instead of breaking in, or sneaking past the mansion’s security guards. They both agreed he’d been friendlier to them of late, and they could sense a difference in him. Jesper made a point of telling her that they’d noticed him enjoying things, like cake, in front of them. ‘You should have seen it, ‘Nej. I didn’t even know he LIKED cake, and he had a fucking GRIN on his face.’ Wylan added in, ‘I think he also has a favorite soup. It was kind of uncanny.’ 

Kaz had even come to them with a completely legal investment opportunity. Jes talked about it excitedly. ‘You know how he turned the Kaelish Prince into the Rogues Gallery? Well, he’s looking to double the size, and thought Wylan might want to invest. He suggested Marya’s paintings could be displayed in the expansion gallery!’ Inej smiled softly at the thought of Marya’s art being displayed somewhere. And at the thought of Kaz coming up with that idea. He continued to amaze her. Wylan added in, ‘It’s all legitimate and above board. He’s trying to drive Merchant Council money into investing in the Barrel eventually. I’m actually impressed, and kind of surprised, honestly.’ 

She’d known Kaz had talked about slowly trying to drive change in the Barrel, and ultimately across Ketterdam, and this seemed like a logical next step. Jesper mentioned that they’d asked Kaz about seeing her during their last dinner. Inej shook her head gently and smiled. They’re so protective of me… I wonder if they forget I can take care of myself? She let them know that Kaz had, in fact, sent runners to Fifth Harbor with a note for her, and invited her to come to the Slat. Wylan smirked, ‘Well, good then. Maybe I won’t have to lock you two in a room.’ She gave him the eye roll that comment deserved while Jesper snorted.

Inej begged off of staying up too late with them, promising them she would do so the next few nights. She was actually tired, but she also realized she wanted to get over to the Slat first thing in the morning. Her suite at the mansion welcomed her back with plush comfort. From the third bag she’d brought from The Wraith, she added new items from her family to her bed. Normally, Suli linens and quilts were quite colorful. She enjoyed them, but for her suite at the mansion, she’d chosen more subdued, cool colors. It contrasted the gaudy way her room at the Menagerie had been decorated, and the blues and grays reminded her of the True Sea and of stormy skies. Her mother and some of the aunties had completed a quilt for her that was done in multiple shades of gray. The pattern of the stitching mimicked waves and water, and there was a decorative pillow to match. Mama had winked at her. ‘I remembered how much you loved to hoard pillows… and I noticed that you still do that when we saw your room at the Van Eck house.’ Inej spent a bit of time unpacking various other things, like more hair oil, and a chamomile shampoo she’d found in Os Kervo. Deciding she deserved a hot bath, she luxuriated in the tub for a while. After that, her large, comfortable bed was calling.

Her dreams that night were entirely too obvious. In one, she argued with Kaz, losing all patience and storming out. The argument didn’t even make sense. She awoke frustrated, and turned over to grab the new pillow that still smelled of the caravan and hug it to her. Her next dream went better. A little too much better. Kaz stood before her, shirtless, the sculpted planes of his chest under her fingers. She explored his scars, watched his pale skin tremble, left trails down his sides, all while he kept his hands clasped behind him and let her touch him. His eyes were intent, full of heat, as she reached for his waistband. And then she woke again, frustrated in a different fashion. Oh bloody hell. This time, rather than try to go back to sleep again, she decided to quench the ache the dream had left. Moving her nightgown aside, sliding a hand up to one breast and the other down to her core, she gave herself over to seeing the images from her dream. Kaz and his intense stare, full of desire for her. His skin under her hands, letting her have her way with him, openly. It was a fantasy she’d experienced before. It might only ever be a fantasy, the way he reacted to touch sometimes. But there he was, in her mind’s eye, and her own hands brought her over to blinding pleasure. As she came down from the orgasm, she thought, Maybe this way I won’t be as distracted with him in person.

Inej checked the clock on the wall by her door. Dawn came later in the winter, but it was getting close. I did tell Jeter ‘morning’. I wonder how early Kaz gets up nowadays. She dressed warmly, donning her oilcloth captain’s coat against the pre-dawn chill, and wrapping her head with a thicker silk hood. Her Saints named blades went into their various sheaths. Ketterdam was most certainly still a dangerous place for Captain Ghafa, even after the hubbub around Van Verent’s sentencing had died down. She slipped out of her window, and past the security guards who, to their credit, were rather alert for the time of morning. The Wraith just happened to be very good at what she did. As she made her way west, the sun broke over the horizon, painting Ketterdam in soft gold light through the haze of fog that blanketed the city. The roof of the Slat was still in shadow from the angle she approached. The private office window was unlocked, and she slipped inside. There was no evidence of Kaz; both the door to the office and his bedroom were closed. Either he’s still asleep or he never came back here last night. She couldn’t help herself, and started looking around. Piles of ledgers and paperwork were stacked on his worktable. All routine things for the various clubs. A note from Pim about a new bartender for the Silver Six. One from Annika saying Mikhal deserved a raise. Pinned above the worktable, there were newspaper clippings about Van Verent’s trial and sentencing, and Inej smiled. Having seen her fill of Kaz’s affairs, she pondered knocking on his bedroom door.

That was until she heard the creak of the stairs. The door to the private office opened, and Kaz stopped short of stepping in. He must have come from the shower on the floor below. Dressed in only a bathrobe, his heat flushed skin didn’t hide the fact that he blushed completely red at the sight of her. Oh Saints, he’s… wow…  Kaz said hello, and it got lost in her fascination with his form. She caught herself scanning him from head to toe. His damp, tousled hair hung loose, framing his sharp features. His hands were bare, the fingers of his left hand gripped around his cane tight enough that his knuckles were white. The exposed vee of pink skin at his chest caught her eye, but his naked calves and feet intrigued her more. His feet are even attractive… Is it horrible that I want this robe to be smaller… GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, WOMAN.  Inej wrestled her brain back from the gutter, but couldn’t stop one last sweeping gaze as she said, “I did tell Jeter you could expect me in the morning. Suppose I’m a bit early.”

Kaz mentioned she was often early, which was true, and then asked if she minded waiting while he got dressed. A half dozen answers that involved him either staying in the robe, or losing it and gaining nothing else crowded into her brain inappropriately. Instead, she clamped down on her lustful urges with willpower, and replied, “Not at all.” She moved to the small couch in the corner, which gave her the vantage point to watch him walk across the room with his cane in hand. The muscles in his calves drew her eyes as he went into his bedroom. Okay, brain, first the dream, and now you’re completely distracted by his legs below the knee. Focus. Even if they’re very tantalizing legs. She realized, as she waited, that it was also the completely vulnerable state she’d seen him in that was appealing. He’d looked… younger, unguarded… that blush had gone from ears to chest and further. She wasn’t used to him blushing like that. Kaz was nineteen now; old beyond his years in some ways, but still, just then, he’d seemed like a nervous pup rather than a sharp toothed wolf. Inej pondered her own reaction. There was no denying she was attracted to him; her desire to explore a sexual relationship with him had only grown stronger, despite their troubles.

Inej was almost disappointed when he exited his bedroom, dressed in a full suit and his gloves. She observed his movements as he crossed to the office door and locked it, then hesitated before moving to his safe. The armor is all back on, it would seem. Bet he’s getting a folder full of intel again. Instead, he spoke of the technology he’d procured for her, and then stood with a small metal box in one hand. “I also have a solid lead on a Fabrikator who might be willing to join your crew to operate it.”

He found a Fabrikator for me? Huh. She covered her astonishment by saying, “Ah. Thank you. Nikolai was bragging about that technology a bit, and mentioned he’d passed it on to you.”

She must have astonished him in turn, because he blinked, and asked, “You saw Nikolai?”

Inej briefly explained the circumstances of the coronation, the happiness of that day coming back to her as she spoke. Kaz definitely appeared shocked then, but he wheeled his desk chair far closer to her than the last time, sitting nearly within reach if she stretched out an arm. Maybe he didn’t put back on as much armor as I thought… He eagerly asked her for more details. Inej obliged him, and went into storytelling mode. She related how part of her crew had accompanied her to visit with her family. How all the various relatives were faring, and how they’d taken the news of the attacks on Ravka. The messenger showing up with an invitation for the Suli. Kaz asked questions along the way, continuing to show his keen interest as she launched into her description of the day of the coronation. What it meant to sit with her parents and people in the front row as they watched Sankta Zoya be crowned queen. And how she’d felt when talking to a living saint, and thought she’d seen another. Then she went into reuniting with Nina, and meeting Prince Rasmus. Kaz’s face was rapt, and it pleased her to watch him be so engaged with her again. As she concluded, Kaz echoed her own thoughts about them having ‘friends in high places’.  

“Indeed,” she inclined her head, amazed at how sometimes they could be so in sync, and at other times, be at such odds. Today, though, Kaz was thoroughly present with her. She thought of Jes and Wy mentioning him coming for dinners, being friendlier overall. They’d mentioned a change in him. “Jesper and Wylan said you’ve been to the mansion a few times now, talking about an expansion?”

Kaz explained about his plans for the Rogues Gallery. He was apparently waiting on intel from Zierfoort before making a move on purchasing the building next door. But he was relying on Roeder for said intel. Inej felt a certain satisfaction that Roeder could never really replace her. She kept that to herself. When she mentioned Wylan’s pleasant surprise, she noted the slight wrinkle to Kaz’s brow before he remarked that he’d been slowly steering all of the Dregs’ businesses toward being legal and above board. He’d even eliminated all but the indentures that served to protect the few Grisha they had within their ranks.

Inej smiled; Kaz was certainly pushing forward with his attempt to change the Barrel, bit by bit. Then he brought up Rikhard Torben. Roeder had dug up some new dirt on the Councilman. Maybe Roeder’s not completely useless as a spider after all. I’m still better. Kaz rose, moved to his safe again, and then brought her back a folder. Everything was going so well, she didn’t want to push anything by trying to touch his gloved fingers when he handed her the folder. She was glad of that decision a moment later, when he took his seat again, and murmured, “Inej… about the last time you were here…”

She leaned towards him, clamping down on any immediate reaction beyond saying, “Yes?” Mama’s and Nina’s guidance for patience ran through her mind. Hazy, early morning light now filtered in through the office windows, illuminating Kaz’s face where he sat across from her. Realizing he actually looked nervous, she waited. 

“I… I could have handled those two weeks better.”

Saints. I could have too. But those two weeks had hurt both of them. “That’s putting it mildly, Kaz.” 

He admitted to being bad at talking to her, at opening up. 

“I’ve noticed.” Inej tried for some humor to soften the blow, but wasn’t sure how successful she was. 

“You said… that I could just talk to you, try to open up…” He sounded… beyond nervous now. Kaz Brekker, the most dangerous man in Ketterdam, actually sounded fragile.

Inej’s mind provided an image of his face from the day she’d lashed out. The pain she’d caused him. He deserved for her to own up to that. And she needed to for herself as well. “Yes. I… I maybe could have handled how I said that a bit better.” 

Kaz didn’t meet her eyes. “I… you… you weren’t wrong… I’d like… I’d like to try a bit.”

I wasn’t wrong, no, but… maybe we’re both bad at apologizing to each other, too. She wouldn’t force him to look at her… not when she could see how hard this was for him. “Okay… I’m listening.”

“You’ve asked… a few times… what happened to my brother.” His rasp grew more pronounced, as if just saying the word ‘brother’ hurt him. Inej nearly held her breath as she leaned further forward. Kaz stared at the floor between them, but she could see the stress evident on his face, in the hunch of his shoulders. “I… I want to tell you the basics. It’s hard… I’ve never told anyone this…”

Saints, he’s really trying today… I need to reassure him. Inej murmured, “I keep your secrets, Kaz.”

“Yes. You do.” For a split second, he glanced up. His eyes were haunted, as if there were already ghosts swirling around him. She supposed there were, if he was going to talk about his brother. She watched as his posture grew even more tense, the knuckles of his left hand creaking in his glove on his cane. His right hand clenched and unclenched on the arm of the desk chair. 

“When I was nine, in the fall of that year, my father died in a plow accident. It was…” Kaz paused, seemingly lost in his own head.

His father died when he was nine? Is that why he and Jordie were alone? She remembered asking him, one of the few times he’d spoken of Jordie, ‘Was there no one to protect you?’ He’d deflected the question back at her. Perhaps she would get the answer now. She stayed silent, waiting to see if he would continue the story, knowing he wouldn’t want her pity. When he did start speaking again, she could hear how the memory of his father’s death troubled him. 

“It was bad. Really bad. Then it was just Jordie and me… There was no other family. No one there to take us in. Jordie sold our farm, and we came to Ketterdam with the money from the sale. He’d just turned thirteen when we got here.” 

No one to protect either of you. At all. Saints. The Suli lived in family units throughout the caravans. Even small families like hers with only one child still had plenty of aunts, uncles, cousins, and so on to help care for each other. Seldom was a child completely orphaned. There had been no one for Kaz and Jordie. At nine and thirteen, on the streets of Ketterdam, alone. She’d seen what this city did to children. Kaz continued, and Inej listened with her heart in her throat.

“Jordie tried to find work at the Exchange. He was determined to start as a runner. I stayed in our room at the boarding house, bored out of my mind.”

It was hard to imagine Kaz as a child of nine, stuck in a room with nothing to do. The way his mind was constantly active; she was surprised he’d stayed put. Jordie must have had delusions of how this city worked. Even she'd known that nothing was that easy within a month of her time in Ketterdam. Kaz continued his story, a bit of guilt in his voice when he spoke of wanting to go out. He went on to mention Rollins, the alias Jakob Hertzoon, and the scam that had swindled all of the boys’ money. Inej remembered some of these details, both from the afternoon in the Geldrenner bathroom, and the day of the auction. She wondered how much kruge the farm had been worth, how much they’d lost all at once. The way Kaz had reacted to Jesper’s mistake of putting his father’s farm at risk came back to her. Along with Kaz calling Jesper by Jordie’s name. How many other parallels existed between the two, she wondered. Kaz had always had such a disdain for pigeons, how easily they could be taken. No wonder. 

The full force of his hatred for Pekka Rollins seemed to be rolling over him. Instead of the hardened strength it usually appeared to lend him, today he appeared caught in the memories, caught up by the swindle all over again. He continued to stare at the floor, and Inej noted he was trembling slightly, his breathing labored. Part of her wanted to hear what else he might say, and another wondered if he could stand to go on. She stayed quiet and waited, while he flexed his gloved hands. 

“Jordie and I ended up on the streets, at the beginning of winter, and just before the firepox hit… Jordie got it first… and then me…” Kaz closed his eyes, and the trembling increased. She’d long suspected Kaz had suffered through the firepox. He had the scars, and his voice confirmed the throat damage that she’d learned sometimes accompanied the plague. Lizabet had been a Medik in the city at the time, and had told Inej her own story. Their crew member Flip had avoided the vocal issues, but had the pox marks. She remembered the way Kaz had known exactly how Ketterdam’s citizens would react to their false plague; it was because he’d lived through it once before. She wondered if the sirens then had brought up these kinds of memories for him. If both he and his brother had gotten sick while living on the streets, there was no way they would have had access to medicine. Or even food or fresh water. No one to protect them, no one to even notice they were two sick children. And no one in this city would have lifted a finger for them, either. Not for two Barrel rats, which is all they would have seen.

Kaz’s rough voice quavered, “It’s a bit of a blur, but the bodymen picked us both up. Thought we were both dead. It’s not like they were checking pulses. We were thrown onto the Reaper’s Barge... And I came to in a pile of corpses.” 

Inej couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped. Bloody hell. This city and its Saints forsaken bodymen. The thought of a child waking up surrounded by such death troubled her deeply. That child being Kaz broke something in her. Perhaps it was a lock around the rage that swelled in her for his younger self. Before she could figure out if she should speak, tell him he’d said enough for now, that she could hear no more, he started again. His voice had gone hoarse with emotion.

“I waited for what seemed like forever, for someone, anyone, to come back with more bodies... So I could get off that stinking barge. No one came…  I was so thirsty… I knew… I knew if I didn’t try to make it to shore… I would be just another body. But I was so weak… I… I was a good swimmer, but I… I knew I couldn’t make it alone… I was so tired.”

Kaz’s eyes were screwed up tight, and so he didn’t see the tears rolling down Inej’s cheeks. She clutched her hands on her knees, and willed herself to listen. If he was going to bare his pain, his soul, for her like this, she would hear him until he was done. His next words came out in a rambling voice that sounded more like a child than she’d ever heard him.

“I… I pushed Jordie’s body into the water… and… I used it… I… I used him… because he was floating… and I kicked myself back to the shore… I… his skin… it was… it was cold… it was horrible…so loose… it came off… it was so dead… it’s why touch is so hard… I was so tired… I made it, but… I didn’t close his eyes… I just let him float away… I didn’t even say goodbye…” 

Kaz sobbed aloud, a broken boy, and Inej felt her own tears increase. She desperately wanted to reach out to him. To comfort him. To tell him he didn’t have to continue. It was enough. More than enough. But she knew better than to touch him. Especially right now. Not in the grip of this memory. Her year in the Menagerie was bad enough, but this? What had happened to Kaz? She couldn’t imagine. His only kin, his brother, dead before him, and Kaz had been so determined to live, to survive, that he’d used his brother’s body... It was horrific. This was why touch terrified him. Flashes came rushing in. The prison cart in Fjerda when he’d passed out, surrounded by too many bodies pressed against him. The Geldrenner bathroom, after kissing her neck, when he’d gone scrambling into the corner. He’d gotten so defensive. The first time their hands had touched at Fifth Harbor, and the way he’d quivered. Suddenly every one of his bad reactions to touch made dreadful sense. Dear Saints. Every time I pushed… asked for him to shed his armor… this is what it was protecting. This is what the gloves are for. All of his hardness, his pushing people away. She could hear his self recrimination, his guilt at not closing his brother’s eyes. She wanted to yell at him, FOR him… He’d been only nine. He’d been a child. Kaz’s next soft, haunted words chilled her to the bone.

“Sometimes, when I touch skin, I’m back in the harbor… and I… and he’s there… and the corpses are there… and…” 

And then Kaz passed out, and toppled forward from the chair onto the floor. For a single moment, Inej was frozen in place, a dozen thoughts all happening at once. When he touches skin, he’s… Oh bloody fucking hell. If he was back in the harbor, did that mean he saw corpses? Felt corpses? The day he’d been hunched over the trash can here in this office, when she’d caressed his hand. He hadn’t said anything to her, just reacted viscerally when she asked if he wanted water. He’d been stuck in his memory with corpses in the harbor, and she’d offered him water. This fragile boy who’d seen such horrors, who’d survived by using his own brother’s corpse… who was laying on the floor in front of her…

Not breathing.

Fuck! Kaz!

Inej panicked, and almost shook him. She stopped herself, but circled his body, not recalling when she’d gotten to her feet. He lay on the floor, having rolled onto his back as he fell. His cane was next to him. Kaz’s expression spoke of someone holding their breath underwater. How do I get him to breathe? Think. Okay… Being frantic isn’t helping him. Breathe. Yes, we both need to...

She said his name aloud. There was no reaction. She tried again. And again. Kaz! Please! Just breathe, you podge! Inej commanded him to breathe, and felt slightly stupid when that didn’t work all by itself. Finally, she threatened to touch him. Inej saw him grimace, head thrown to the side, his shoulders flinching as if she’d poked him. That did the trick. Kaz heaved in a full breath, and then started coughing and sputtering. Inej had no clue how much time had passed. 

The moment his eyes focused on her, she asked, “You back with me?” Then she retreated, trying to give him ample room. Now that he was breathing and aware, the last thing she wanted to do was make him pass out a second time. She concentrated on taking in loud, slow breaths, trying to convince him to do the same. Lizabet had done this for her during her own panic attacks. When Kaz got himself up off the floor, and sat back shakily into his desk chair, she took her perch on the couch again. He looked spent, like he’d been in a perilous fight. Inej realized just how precarious his state was when he took in a shuddering breath and announced he needed to be done talking about his past. He just fainted… did he think I was going to press for more? It was possible he did think that, given the way things had gone between them before. Inej knew then that her mother’s words were right on the mark. ‘Give yourself, and your handsome thief, some grace.’ She wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know how. So she simply said, “Understood.”

Chapter Text

“Kaz?” That wasn’t Jordie’s voice. The harbor was in his lungs. At least he couldn’t smell death.

“Kaz, breathe!” That voice was frantic, though. He couldn't breathe, there was too much water.

“Kaz Brekker, I swear if you don’t start breathing properly right now, I’m going to touch you!” 

No, no touching. Saints. Inej? I was telling Inej… oh fuck…

He gasped in, coughing, and opened his eyes to find he was staring up at Inej. Upside down. From the floor. On the rug he’d been staring at. There was no pity or horror on her face, but there was plenty of worry. He’d apparently passed out. Fuck me. Suppose I should have seen that coming. His heart was racing, and he could feel the sweat all over his body. At least he was breathing again? 

Inej asked, wide eyed, if he was back with her, and then took a step away from him. 

Kaz nodded, not sure his mind or mouth were up to words just yet. He felt as mentally exposed now as he had physically earlier. The sweat was rapidly cooling on his skin, and it heightened the lingering nausea. He shuddered on the floor, feeling like a dying fish, utterly vulnerable; if it had been anyone but Inej, he would have lashed out. Two years ago, even that wouldn't have stopped him. He’d been harsh or cold to her so many times rather than show weakness. She was now taking audible breaths, as if reminding him to do so. His cane was next to him. He grabbed it like a lifeline, and rolled so he could get himself off the floor. Inej backed away, watching with evident concern. Kaz wanted to disappear, pace, or possibly throw himself out the window, but he wasn't certain he was capable of any of those things currently. Instead, he slumped back into his desk chair. Perhaps taking her cue from him, Inej returned to the couch. 

“I, ah,” he cleared his throat, “I think I might need to be done talking about that for now.” Kaz took a glance at her face. There wasn’t pity. There was a tenderness he felt he didn’t deserve, and didn’t know how to handle. He stared at the rug again. 

Inej softly said, “Understood.” That one simple word conveyed multitudes. 

“Inej…” Kaz knew he couldn’t talk any more about his past, but he could provide something else, “Your voice helps… it brings me out. It did before, too. At the Geldrenner that day… I know I told you some of what came after… maybe at some point... I can answer questions, but not today… Or I’ll throw up.” He hadn’t a clue why he’d just admitted that last bit. Inej had a way of rendering him speechless, or at the present moment, embarrassingly honest. “I know that… I know you keep my secrets. I just… I need to know this one goes nowhere.” With that, he met her eyes.

“You have my word, Kaz,” she replied solemnly. Inej held his gaze for another beat, and then looked away. He was grateful to her, for breaking off the eye contact, for giving her word, for being here. For her eyes not being full of the pity he’d been sure he would find. For being her.

“Thank you.” He said it as sincerely as he could. Desperate then to move on to anything else besides his current state of feeling like rotten bilge water, he asked, “So… how long do you think you’ll be docked this time?”

Inej surely noticed his abrupt change of topic, but she didn’t remark on it. “Two, maybe three weeks, depending on how long it takes for this technology to be installed.” She patted the small metal box that lay on the couch next to her. 

“Ah,” Kaz wondered what else he might offer during her stay this time. He didn’t want to make empty promises. But he could probably survive a dinner. “Please let Jesper and Wylan know that I won’t ignore any dinner requests during these next few weeks.”

“I can do that.” Her voice went softer as she continued, “It would be nice to have us all together for a meal.”

Kaz heard the underlying message. He would handle dinner, if it would make her happy. Who am I kidding, I would dance over hot coals if it would make her happy. It felt like he had done something similar, telling her even the small amount he had about Jordie and his past. But she’d listened, and he was relatively certain he'd managed to tell her the whole of it before he’d passed out. There hadn’t been pity or horror when he’d come to. Somewhere in his chest, vines of hope unfurled new leaves. Before he could figure out what to say next, Inej spoke again.

“I was thinking of grabbing breakfast at the Kooperom…” her voice had a hesitant note as she continued, “Would you be interested in joining me?”

His stomach lurched at the thought of food. And as much as he wanted to say yes, he’d already pushed himself rather far this morning. Terrible truth rather than kind lie? “I would, but ah… I’m still a bit nauseous.” Admitting that was surely less horrible than telling her the rest of it had been.

Inej nodded, her face understanding. Kaz had expected a flash of disappointment. He was used to disappointing her. Somehow, he hadn’t this time. She stood, glanced at the window, and back at him. 

“Kaz… I know it was hard… to tell me all that… Thank you. For trusting me with it.” She smoothed her hands down her sides, as if finding something else to do with them besides reach out to him. He nodded, his own hands gripped on his cane in much the same way. “I hope to see you at dinner at the mansion.”

“I’ll do my best, Inej.” He said that sincerely as well. Inej gave him another smile, and padded to the window. Kaz watched her go, letting himself study the way the winter morning sun played over her as she stepped out onto the roof. She’s beautiful . He’d earned some smiles from her. Despite how his body felt, his mind was racing around, attempting to analyze what he’d done right. Telling her about Jordie had been the biggest thing he could think of to open up to her about. It was also the key to explaining why physical touch was so difficult for him. She deserved more of an explanation at some point, but he’d gotten the toughest part of it told. Maybe he could answer her questions in the future, without passing out. Or shutting her out. The weight of that story was negligible compared to the weight lifted from him by feeling like he’d actually had some success with Inej. I managed to open up to her. She smiled. And she invited me to breakfast. He ran over the whole interaction in his head, from bathrobe to her saying the word ‘hope’ as she left. He hadn't snarked about 'hope being dangerous', either.

He’d let himself be vulnerable to her, and he’d survived it. Even if he felt like another shower might be in order. Or at least fresh clothes. Good thing I got myself extra shirts. And more Fabrikated waistcoats. After the stabbing, he’d found a Fabrikator to alter all of his waistcoats to be bullet and puncture proof. That had actually led him to the lead on the Fabrikator for Inej’s crew. Shit, I need to get her that info. Another reason not to miss dinner. After a few minutes of mental ramblings, he felt up to levering himself out of his desk chair, and getting cleaned up and changed. Kaz wasn’t feeling ready for breakfast just yet, so he worked on ledgers in his private office for a while. His mind kept wandering back to Inej’s smiles, and the sunlight on her face. The thought, I did something right for a change, buoyed him through the rest of that day.

Pim, Annika, Keeg, and Rotty might have noticed the change in him at their meeting the next afternoon. Kaz wasn’t pacing, or surly, and managed to listen to their reports seated calmly at his desk. He even kept his cool when Pim told him about Finn being an ass to Mikhal about his mixed Suli heritage. Finn was often a bit of a prick, and Kaz had Pim and Annika keeping an eye on him. ‘Tell Mikhal he not only gets that raise, but gets free range to beat up Finn as desired if the skiv keeps it up.’ Mikhal was small in stature, but he was beautifully handsome and could flirt with pigeons of any gender, parting them from their kruge with finesse. He was also a wickedly skilled fighter, and could take Finn down a notch easily. Probably without breaking a sweat. Finn thought he was a badass because he’d done some time in Hellgate. Mikhal had been taken as a child from Ravka, and survived in the Barrel as an indenture for Pekka Rollins. Kaz knew who he’d bet on. 

He went about the business of the Barrel with a lighter step over the next few days. Somehow, telling Inej the heaviest secret of his past, and earning her smiles, had lifted a portion of the dark cloud that had settled on him since the autumn. He hadn’t felt this good since before the stabbing, before he’d screwed up. It also occurred to him he hadn’t desperately wanted a drink in days either. He wanted more of Inej’s smiles. To hear her laugh. To see her happy. Three days after he’d seen Inej, he got a note from the Van Eck mansion. Reading it over again in his private office, he found himself smiling at the page. Jesper and Wylan had included Inej’s name on the invitation; all three of them invited him to dinner the upcoming weekend. It felt like another win. He let himself revel in it. Even if his nerves and unkind voices were trying to have a raucous party in his head. Kaz was determined to make this dinner a success. He had the information on the Fabrikator for Inej’s crew, and went to meet with Sova Kozlov to make sure she was still interested. She was intent on meeting Inej before she made a decision. He told her Inej would be in touch. After that, he swung through the Zelver district, and picked up a new tie set in teal, one of Inej’s favorite colors.

Kaz stopped by his barber as well. Bram greeted him warmly, and asked if he wanted a scalp massage today. He’d been trying to get the service fairly regularly, but had skipped them for the last two visits because of his nerves. They had been getting easier to handle, though. Kaz told Bram yes, and tried to relax into the simple comfort after his hair trim. He found himself wondering what it would be like to let Inej touch his hair. Dreams of her raven hair in his fingers, unraveling her braid, letting her locks cascade around him, were all common. Hair wasn’t skin, and it was easier for him to handle. Now he thought about Inej’s small, calloused fingers running along his scalp. A shudder ran through him, and Bram stopped. ‘You alright, Mister Brekker?’ Kaz realized he’d been fantasizing about Inej in his barber's chair. Oh fucking Ghezen. He told Bram he was fine, and tipped him extra.

The morning before the dinner, his head hosted an entire Komedie Brute troupe of anxiety. Kaz was sorely tempted to dip into the bottle of kvas he’d hidden in a drawer in his main floor office, but refrained with iron will. In the afternoon, before all the Dregs headed off for their various assignments, he got an idea to wear off some of the nervous energy. Heading out into the main room, he asked if anyone wanted to spar. Every crew member there looked at him with shock. It had been a long while since Kaz had offered to personally train with any of the lower ranks. Generally, he kept up his fighting skills sparring with Pim, Anika, Keeg, Nico, and Boe. They were all at his level. Boe and Nico were probably better than him at actual technique. But none of them happened to be here at the moment. He announced that he would temper his blows to the skill level of whoever wanted to step up. And then he took off his jacket and waistcoat, rolled up his shirtsleeves, laid aside his cane, and waited. Unsurprisingly, Finn was the first to step up. 

Oh, this will be fun. Kaz let out a malevolent smirk. A few other Dregs cleared some tables out of the way. Finn squared off like he was trying to be the star of the Hellshow. Kaz flexed his hands in his gloves, not even bothering to get into a stance. Finn made some feints that he easily dodged. This cocky skiv survived Hellgate, how exactly? The answer was that Rollins ran the show in Hellgate back then, and had probably been paid by Finn’s Dime Lion father to see his son protected. Finn made an obvious move towards Kaz’s bad leg. Kaz let him in close, and then used Finn’s momentum to spill the Kaelish boy to the floor. He saw the moment the anger took over. Finn didn’t fight smart, he let his emotions rule him. When the boy got back up and charged, Kaz dodged again, letting him get angrier. After a few minutes of similar moves, he thought, Enough toying with this idiot. Kaz faked a misstep on his bad leg, and Finn went for the bait. Bullies couldn’t resist that trick. One solid punch to the jaw, and the Kaelish boy went down like a sack of stones. The room erupted in cheers. Finn wasn’t the most popular crew member, and Kaz was sure he heard Mikhal among those celebrating. ‘Somebody drag him to a corner. Anyone else want a lesson?’

A few Dregs came and hauled Finn off. No one else immediately volunteered for sparring. Kaz scanned the room, looking for specific faces. ‘Omar, I know you usually smooth talk your way out of fights, but you need to keep your skills up.’ The tall man from the Southern Colonies rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘Okay, boss.’ The other Dregs watching jeered and some called out bets. No one had been willing to bet on Finn, but Kaz heard a few lay odds on this next match. Omar and Nico had been caught together in a bank robbery, and did a stint in Hellgate. Keeg had recruited them to the Dregs when they got out, based on their varied skill sets. Nico was by far the more aggressive one of the two, while Omar usually fell back on charm or his Zemeni made pistols. But he was at least an inch taller than Kaz, and all lean muscle. Omar stepped up, and rolled his shoulders. Kaz motioned him forward with one gloved hand. Omar tilted his head, and took one lanky step forward, his hands loose at his sides. Now this might be a challenge. 

Omar and Kaz prowled around for a few moments, each waiting for a sign from the other. Omar finally moved in with a jab towards Kaz’s left side, which he blocked. They danced around each other, thrown punches and blocks exchanged. The crowd was rooting for both of them, engaged in the excitement. Omar fought like a man who would rather be doing something else, but would hold his own anyway. His reach matched Kaz’s but he did have two good legs. If it were an actual fight, and Omar were trying harder, Kaz would have started cheating right away. On their next volley, Omar switched up his rhythm, and managed to land a punch to Kaz’s ribs. ‘Good hit.’ Kaz told him with a quick, tight smirk. Omar grinned, and Kaz used the small distraction of praise to land a punch of his own to Omar’s stomach. While the man was bent over gasping, Kaz said, ‘Better hit. Don’t let yourself get too cocky.’ Omar moved away with a muttered, ‘Yes, boss.’ The crew hooted and hollered, some clapping Omar on the back as he walked off. Most had bet on their boss, and the losers who bet on Omar were still laughing even as they handed over their kruge. 

Kaz had actually broken a sweat with that sparring session, and it was getting towards the time of day when the Dregs should be heading off. Kaz scanned the room again. Finn was just coming around in the corner where he’d been unceremoniously dumped. No one had stayed by his side. Skiv better be ready to be a barker soon, or I’ll punch him again. The rest of the Dregs all appeared to be thoroughly entertained by the show their boss had provided. They were also all nervously eyeing the space around him. None of them wanted to be the next one called up. Kaz announced to the main room, ‘Alright. Show’s over. Get to your assignments for the day. And somebody pour some coffee into Finn.’ The chatter around the room turned amused, and they started joking about who got to serve up coffee to the Kaelish boy. Finn was actually rather good at being a barker. He was all talk, excellent at drawing in pigeons, and that was why he was still in the Dregs. He did need to be fully conscious to do his job, however. Meril, one of their younger Makker’s Wheel girls, finally brought over some coffee and shoved the cup into Finn’s face. He took it with a sullen expression. Meril would take no shit from the skiv, and Kaz also knew Mikhal would beat Finn senseless on Meril’s behalf if needed. The kid had once stood up to Pekka Rollins to protect Meril at the Sweet Shop.

Shaking his head slightly, Kaz picked up his cane and clothing, and headed upstairs. He’d successfully shut down some of the raucous anxiety in his brain. Now he needed to clean up and to get changed for dinner. He took the time to grab a hot shower and shave, and put on a fresh suit with the new teal tie and pocket square. Grabbing his nicest pair of gloves and his favorite hat, he checked himself in the mirror. Presentable. Kaz had never been one to preen, though he took a certain pride in his appearance. Even if he’d not felt a need to be attractive in the traditional sense. He wasn’t entirely certain why it was so important to him to look good for tonight, but it made him feel better, so he didn’t question it too much. Control the physical to control the mental. Kaz decided he had time for a hired gondel rather than the tunnel. No use in getting all cleaned up only to then walk through the underbelly of the city. Just need my nerves and my brain not to stage a rebellion between here and the mansion. As usual, he loaded an oyster knife into his jacket sleeve, and a pistol into a hidden holster built into the jacket’s liner. He also grabbed a few coins for his trouser pockets. 

Once on the canals, he kept his brain occupied, and the gondelier entertained, by doing coin tricks. It helped his mood enough that he actually tipped the gondelier with the coins in a flourish. Most of the coins, since some went from his palm back into his sleeve out of sheer habit. Once on the Geldstraat, he went to the front door of the mansion. The housekeeper wasn’t surprised for once, though she did look a bit nervous. Kaz tended to have that effect on Wylan’s house staff. Tilde led him to the dining room, which was actually free of various detritus again tonight. He heard Jesper and Wylan lightheartedly bickering about how many colors were acceptable on menswear accessories from down the hall. As they came into the room, Inej padded up behind them, and managed to spook Jesper. ‘Saints, ‘Nej!’ Kaz didn’t bother to hide his smirk. His Wraith could still scare their friend in his own home; she obviously hadn’t lost her touch. Inej giggled. Wylan grinned, patting Jes on the shoulder. All of them turned to Kaz, who nodded politely, while his heart skipped with glee at the sound of Inej’s mirth. 

Jesper and Wylan both welcomed him back to the mansion. He caught Inej’s gaze linger over him for a beat. Every bit of getting prepared for dinner was now worthwhile. Kaz couldn’t help but notice that Inej was dressed in softer, more comfortable clothes. The lavender tunic and loose black slacks draped over her in ways that had him mesmerized. Her raven hair was in a looser braid, and smelled subtly of flowers as she passed by him. Not used to Inej having a scent, Kaz was distracted by figuring out just what flower it was. Conversation continued without him. He snapped his attention back to her housemates with effort. Wylan gestured to the table as the dinner chime sounded. Jesper had explained the chimes the last time Kaz was here. Since they were often down in Wylan’s lab, or elsewhere, losing track of time focused on some project, they’d rigged a meal reminder chime. It saved the house staff a lot of trouble trying to find them in the mansion, and reminded them to stop working and eat. It rang on the first floor, down in the soundproofed lab, and carried well enough through the rest of the house. Tilde or one of the kitchen staff generally rang the chime, then waited for everyone to arrive and be seated before directing food to be brought out.

Kaz chose the seat that would place him across from Inej, and then took off his overcoat and hat to place them on the chair next to him. He leaned his cane there as well. Debating for a moment taking his gloves off, he decided to leave that part of the armor in place. Perhaps he could try and relax a little with them more tonight, though. He caught the eyebrow waggling look that Jes exchanged with his partner. And ignored it as best he could. When Kaz turned his attention back towards Inej, he found her studying him. The hint of a smile played on her lips as she looked towards the door. His heart tripped over its non-existent feet. The first course of Boerenkaas soup was being brought in. Kaz let their conversation flow around him as he savored one of his favorite soups, and attempted to puzzle out what had pleased Inej. Jes picked up the debate about ties and pocket squares again. Wylan was arguing for a maximum of two to three colors, and actually pointed out how elegant Kaz’s set was. Apparently, it hadn’t just been Inej that noticed his accessorizing. Kaz found himself trying not to blink at the compliment. Jesper tended toward Barrel flash still, and combining as many colors as possible in an outfit. Inej was watching their mock argument with an amused grin. At one point, she winked at Kaz when the other two weren’t paying attention. It feels like old times, and yet… different. 

In the past, he would have likely wanted to smack their heads together and remind them to get back to work on whatever job they were supposed to be focused on. Now, he could watch their banter with another perspective. He’d already been doing so as he studied them at past dinners. Tonight, with Inej’s wink inviting him to the joke, he felt included in a way that was unexpected. Jesper went one further, and asked Kaz to weigh in on color combination limitations. Staring at his friend’s current outfit that included lime and kelly green checkered pants, a purple and orange plaid waistcoat, a lavender shirt, and a green tie, Kaz muttered that Jesper had already exceeded the limit. Jes protested, while Wylan said, ‘There you have it. The smartest dressed man at the table agrees with me.’ Inej let out a merry laugh. Kaz’s heart decided to play hop-scotch at the sound of her laughter while he tried to absorb another compliment. He welcomed the distraction of the next course of braised beef being brought in. At least I haven’t made a fool of myself yet.

As dinner carried on, so too did the lighthearted banter between Jesper and Wylan, and sometimes Inej. She teased them freely, easily holding her own with their ribbing. A few times, a well placed comment by Kaz managed to make them all laugh. During a lull in between joking banter, they spoke quietly of Nina and her new found love and high position. All of them were amazed with their friend’s Fjerdan adventures. Kaz found himself appreciating this dinner and all of their conversations far more than he’d thought possible. His brain and his nerves were cooperating. His mouth was even on board. Every one of Inej’s smiles was a delicious treat, every laugh a sip of honey wine, and his heart was a glutton. He stole glances at her every chance he got. Over dessert, Tilde’s delicious layered apple pie, Kaz brought up the Fabrikator, Sova Kozlov, for The Wraith’s crew. He passed on Sova’s information to Inej. She thanked him, with a soft smile, and said she would meet with the Fabrikator soon. Where had his heart gotten a jump rope? Jesper gave Kaz a thoughtful glance. It felt a bit like approval. Apparently, I did something right in Jes’s eyes, too.

After dinner drinks arrived, and Kaz deliberately chose coffee. He was more than drunk enough on Inej’s happiness, and the evening going well. Jesper and Wylan brought up the expansion plan, and Kaz let them know there hadn’t been much movement on that front. The building next door to the Rogues Gallery was owned by a holding company in Zierfoort, and Roeder was actually down there now, gathering intel. Kaz had him doing dual duty investigating the holding company, and keeping tabs on Heleen Van Houden. If they could figure out more intel on the holding company, Kaz would be in a better place to negotiate for the building. Even with Wylan willing to invest, there was no need to pay top dollar for the real estate if they could avoid it. Kaz maximized profit wherever he could by habit. And probably by virtue of being exceedingly Kerch. Inej asked a few more questions about the expansion. Kaz, Wylan, and Jesper all gave her answers. Her enthusiasm for their joint venture was evident. Kaz felt another hit of success, and it was heady. 

Jesper and Wylan invited him to stay and play cards with them. Inej’s smile at the suggestion tempted him more than the thought of winning hand after hand. The anxiety he’d kept at bay for hours reared up like an angry horse, however, kicking his confidence down. Dinner had gone so well, he was sure to screw something up if he pushed his luck. He knew when to leave a gambling table. Kaz grabbed up his cane, coat, and hat. ‘I should actually be getting back to the Barrel.’ He swore he saw a glimpse of disappointment slide across Inej’s features, and wanted to kick his anxiety right back. Jesper commented, mostly to Wylan, ‘Well, it was worth a shot.’ Kaz reminded himself to be polite, and thanked them all for the invitation to dinner. Jes nodded with a raised eyebrow, Wylan said, ‘Of course.’ and Inej gestured towards the hall. Is she walking me to the door? She was, in fact, and preceded him to the front door while her housemates headed back towards the parlor. 

Inej turned to him with a shy smile. “I’m glad you came to dinner, Kaz.” 

His luck had apparently run out for the ability to talk, because he suddenly had no clue what to say to her. His gloved hand went tight on his cane. Then, an echo of something she’d said before she’d sailed off the first time sounded in his head. Two words, they exist in Kerch… Ghezen, I’m a fucking podge. Kaz tilted his head at her, and rumbled out, “You’re welcome.” 

Her smile deepened for a moment, her eyes twinkling, and she murmured, “They do exist in Kerch.” Kaz had often suspected his Wraith was occasionally psychic, and this added to that theory. If only she could see what was in his heart, and not the turmoil of his head. He let out a smile for her as he put on his coat and hat. Inej appeared about to say something more. Then she gave the slightest shake of her head, as if she’d decided against it. The slight purse of her lips made him think rather strongly about kissing her. 

Rather than act on that impulse, he gave in to another. A wisp of her hair had come loose from her braid. Tentatively, he reached up with a gloved hand, holding it where she could see. Inej glanced from his face to his hand, and back, then nodded. He suddenly wished his glove would disappear so he could feel her hair in his bare fingers. Ever so gently, he tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear. The slow blink of her eyelashes made his heart tangle in its newly found jump rope. Inej was watching him quietly. He lowered his hand before she noticed he was trembling.

Kaz filled the space between them with a heartfelt, “Have a good night, Inej.” He tipped his hat to her and reached for the door. I need to get out of here before I change my mind, or do anything stupid.

Her voice was soft and sweet as she answered, “You too, Kaz.”

He nodded as he went outside into the cool night, and thought, I already did. It was extra chilly, and he turned his collar up against the cold. Luckily, he was warm inside from what felt like several wins with Inej. Even if he hadn’t managed touch her with his bare hands. His mind brought up the shape of her lips again as he walked along the Geldstraat. You can’t just kiss her, Saints. He’d very much wanted to though, and the thought hadn’t made him nauseous, just nervous. That felt like progress. 

Kaz decided to take another hired gondel back towards the Barrel. The winter air was making his bad leg ache enough that walking all the way home had little appeal. His ride in the gondel gave him plenty of time to overthink his decision not to stay at the mansion. Why hadn’t he just stayed? They’d all been relaxed together. He’d even managed to make them all laugh a few times. Including Inej. I did something right. Next time, maybe I stay when they invite me to. How hard could it be? His brain then handily supplied a dozen ways it could go wrong. Kaz grimaced, since letting his mind run around in these circles wasn’t getting him anywhere. He focused instead on the lanterns of gondels moving through the canal. A memory from his first night seeing the waterways lit by lantern light came unbidden. The country boy he’d been had thought it looked magical, like giant fireflies floating above the water. Every so often, it still looked that way, but he’d stopped letting himself have flights of fancy after Jordie died. He’d been too busy surviving. A chill went through him as a cool breeze came in, and he shook off the memory. By the time he got off the gondel to walk to the Slat, he was glad of his gloves and wishing for a scarf. He’d made it a block before the hair on the back of his neck told him he was being tailed. That’s not just the chill air.

He ducked into a deeper doorway, and waited. Sure enough, he caught the movement of someone changing course to head directly towards him. The oyster knife was in his right hand in an instant, while his grip on his cane switched. A low, almost sinuous voice he recognized said, ‘Mister Brekker.’ Marius Diede, one of Elzinger’s lieutenants. ‘What business, Diede?’ Marius moved into view, carefully not blocking Kaz into the doorway, and stood relaxed, hands at his sides. The slender blonde man appeared to be alone. Marius asked for a quick, informal chat. Kaz raised an eyebrow at him, and simply said, ‘Speak then.’ The Black Tips lieutenant was taking an awful risk, talking to him on the street in Dregs territory. Kaz noted that Marius was not dressed in his usual fashion; he had on workman’s clothes, as well as a large overcoat with the collar turned up. But Marius’s voice and face were well known. 

‘I might be thinking of some self-promotion, and wanted to see if a keen mind like yours had any interests or objections to such a move.’ Kaz snorted at the circumspect wording. He’d known Elzinger wasn’t doing well ever since being gutshot. And he’d suspected Marius was already running much of the gang’s business, and had strong ambitions. Out of all the possibilities to run the Black Tips, Marius was definitely his preference. Kaz had a good idea of what motivated the man, and knew he’d be easier to negotiate with. His answer was to the point. ‘No objections, certainly. It might be interesting to deal with someone who has a brain to speak of.’  

The smile that Marius gave before his answer was predatory. ‘Excellent. Any advice on such a move?’ Kaz was intrigued. Marius was intelligent, crafty, and had come from money. It was still a bit of a mystery how the man had ended up in the Barrel. Roeder hadn’t been able to dig up any dirt, hidden lovers, or dead bodies. Most of what they’d found out included that Marius had a violent streak that made his relatives uneasy. But then, so did some other merchers, as Kaz was well aware. Ruthless seemed to be a necessary qualifier for both the Merchant Council and the gang leaders. Marius asking him for his advice seemed designed to flatter, but perhaps there was something to be said for how far Kaz had risen in such a short time. ‘Be decisive, and sure of your support. And then strike hard and fast.’ Internally, Kaz added, Like the snake you seem to be. He would rather deal with this snake than the dumb bull currently in charge of the Black Tips.

Marius nodded with a tilt of his head, and a glint in his gray eyes. ‘I look forward to a more… formal conversation, at some point in the future. Enjoy the rest of your evening.’ With that, Marius stepped off in the direction he’d come from, towards the canal. Kaz smirked. His evening had been rather eventful in several ways now. It would be curious to see what shook down within the Black Tips in the next while. He slipped the oyster knife back into his jacket sleeve, and regripped his cane. Switching course, Kaz headed towards the Crow Club so he could alert Pim to this little chat. He’d call a meeting with all the lieutenants tomorrow, but Pim could handle letting the others know what had transpired in the meantime.

When Kaz arrived at the Crow Club, another surprise entirely awaited him. Pim caught his eye immediately, and headed to meet him by the door. In a whisper, his lieutenant told him, ‘Boss, Sturmhond is here, and I put him and his people in a private room to wait. I had Jeter trying to locate you.’ Kaz indicated Pim should lead the way, and quietly gave him the rundown of the meet with Marius Diede. Leaving instructions that he shouldn’t be disturbed in the private room, he then told Pim to let Anika, Keeg, and Rotty in on the news, and that they would discuss the importance of it tomorrow. He was entertained by the thought that staying at the mansion would have been far more relaxing and possibly less stressful than the way his night was now playing out. 

As Kaz entered the private room, Sturmhond turned with a broad smile, his teal frock coat swirling. ‘Ah, Mister Brekker, excellent.’ Kaz kept his signature scowl in place, and raised an eyebrow at the former King of Ravka. He didn’t immediately recognize the giant Shu man, but the Zemeni Squaller with the mechanical hand had been present during the titanium heist. Figuring it best to keep to the given alias of the privateer, Kaz said with an air of tedium, ‘You didn’t even send me letters this time. I might start to feel neglected. What business, Sturmhond?’ A devious grin gracing his foxy face, Nikolai clapped his hands and rubbed them together. ‘How would you like to do a job for the Queen of Ravka?’