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While Kaz searched for a safe enough way through the Fold, it left him slightly less approachable than usual. Hunkered away at his desk in his office, any attempt at talking to him or asking what the plan was and they'd sooner get their heads bashed in with his cane.
It was frustrating being kept in the dark - Inej and Jesper had both ranted to her from their seats at her bar after searching for information and coming up with nothing on the streets - and Shan had just about had enough of all of them.
She had her own anxieties rolling around inside her skull distracting her from the loud hustle and bustle of the club.
Her headache had cleared, thankfully, but not some hours later Inej came swooping in with Kaz at her heels like a shadow, telling her that all of a sudden they'd managed to find a way across the Fold.
The first thing she said was, "is it safe?"
All Kaz told her was "pack and be ready."
Typical.
"When are we leaving?"
"Ten minutes, three streets over."
As he disappeared upstairs, surprisingly spy for the cripple he was, Shan fought the urge to throw a glass at him.
In a flurry, she had no choice but to find someone competent enough to cover her work over the bar while they were gone. Not knowing how long they'd be gone for made that tricky, especially since they had limited time, creating a whole hassle in itself.
Once that was sorted, Shan raced upstairs to pack a small bag filled with necessities and met the others at the meeting place just barely on time.
They met a man named the Conductor, a skittish, short and stout man in a suit with wire framed glasses waiting by a carriage ready to take them out of the city.
Shan decided immeidtaley that she disliked Arken and chose to sit on the opposite bench, furthest away from the weasely man.
Jesper had drawn the short straw and was sat next to him. Shan sat between Kaz and Inej on the other side.
While they talked and discussed meeting with a heartrender, a radical Grisha called Nina Zenik at a nearby hostel, anyone could tell that Shan was not comfortable, nor happy.
She was stiff as a board, even more so than Kaz who remained stoic and serious, gloved hands resting atop his cane.
Not once had she spoken, choosing the keep her mouth shut and analyse the man across from them silently, her fingers twisting her rings just barely showing beneath her shawl.
She had shared a single glance with Inej at one point who had shared her mistrust.
Arken liked to talk a lot, a man with a nervous habit to ramble.
Jesper, with his too long legs knocking into her own, kicked her ankle and made her glance up from the space she was staring at on the floor.
