MIRAGE

ii.

Technically speaking, Myah's room in the Slat was not her own. She stole it from Ludwig, who moved into it after Adler's death. 

Her room was small and moldy. Its previous occupant had been horrendous at housekeeping, and the Slat had no form of such services on its own. The upkeep of rooms was left entirely to the owners themselves. 

Not that Myah had a problem with fixing up the room, but it was an impossible task. She had tried. Again and again and again. Mold in every visible nook and cranny. Saints even knew what lay in the invisible crannies. Insect infestations under the floorboards. Stains that were impossible to lift. The Slat would have been better if they completely detached the room from the rest of the building entirely. 

Myah had concluded that the interior of that room was beyond saving and went to Kaz for another. 

Other people would crawl on their hands and knees begging for a change of scenery, after the mess they would have lived in for weeks. But Myah Borkov did not beg. She approached him as equals; one thing Kaz hated from his gang. 

But that was another thing Myah was good at. She refused to belittle herself to approach the man who paid her. How in Ravka were women - or anyone - supposed to grow in society if they struck themselves down every time their boss looked in their direction? Myah refused to hold herself to that insulting standard. She had too much pride for that sort of behavior. 

Kaz made nothing of the matter. He told her to do what she thought was appropriate. If she wanted another room, she could get a new room. He ordered her out of his office before she could ask for specifics. 

Myah waltzed into Ludwig's room one late, rainy night, and threatened him at gunpoint to get out of bed. So he did, knickers being the only piece of clothing on his body. He reached for his weapon, which she kicked away. They tussled for a moment - if it could even be called that. But if there was one thing the militia taught in boot camp, it was how to disarm a goliath with less than chopsticks. 

It was a very entertaining affair. Ludwig was twice her size, but a melting ice cube would have been sharper than his brain. As well, Myah was the one with the gun. She locked him out and went to sleep. 

Ludwig tried to reclaim his rightful room the next evening. A bullet ended up in his foot. 

When Ludwig complained to Kaz three days later, Kaz paid no attention. It was Ludwig's fault for waiting so long, and for being so careless with his property. 

That pathetic big man disappeared from the Slat, and from the Crow Club, soon after. No one noticed his absence at first. He was not usually a man you noticed when entering a room. Once they did, no one cared. He was assumed to be dead. Funerals and weeping tears were not something often found within the Dregs. That was just the way it was. 

Kaz soon found a way to fill his place. Within a month, it was as if Ludwig had never taken place in the Dregs at all. Myah lived content in his old room. No one bothered her. Things moved on as if nothing had been displaced. 

Ludwig had been seen mingling with the Dime Lions as of recent. The two crossed paths once again in the market side of town. Myah didn't care for any of the rival gangs in Ketterdam, even her own. She was paid to hate each and every one of them. But one thing she despised more than the Dime Lions was a traitor. 

Myah and Jesper were out to gather information at the Exchange; a larger portion of Ketterdam where merchants made their living. It was the heart of the city. Everything worth paying attention to happened in the Exchange. 

The two had been sent out for the afternoon with no specific instructions. If their boss had cared, he would have sent them out with the place, a person, and a reason. It seemed to Myah that Kaz simply wanted eyes. He just wanted eyes on the entire city, both from above and inside its heart.