Natasha Van Doren is a shadow summoner. She bides her time and resides in darkness, feared and esteemed by Ketterdam's civilians, a ghost . She cons Kaz Brekker into joining a heist he can't refuse and with thirty million kruge on the line, the crow...
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"TESSERA... tria... dyo... ena..."
Kaz watched the life descend from her body like the decaying petals of a rose. Her silver pupils dilated, black pools flooding the whites of Natasha's eyes. Her fingertips trembled against the brush of the atmosphere. The air crackled a whip across her skin.
An exalted power filtered through her blood, pulsating in her core. The feeling filled her senses, capturing her in a golden net. Silver silks glittered like deadly night stars on her body, almost causing the others to squint. At that moment, Natasha Van Doren was transcendent. A human sitting side by side on a goddess's throne.
But then it was all gone.
Night scattered like a wild beast across the sky, trickling down from the clouds like black rain. Kaz couldn't see his hand in front of his face as he stumbled around desperately in the darkness. Screams bounced off the shadows, navigating blindly through the thick fog.
Natasha could see perfectly through her creation. She swayed over towards the Frejdan, spinning his gun effortlessly in her hand. Natasha pinched him by the tip of his ears, pulling him up to her height.
She clamped her hand over his mouth, humming under her breath as she did so. Shadows oozed from beneath her skin, dribbling out from the corner of the man's mouth. He twitched and convulsed in pain, attempting to kick at Natasha's ankles.
After a few moments, of struggle, he fell motionless in her arms. His body had evaporated into a sweet-smelling wisp of smoke. It curled up into the curtain of shadows, consumed and forgotten.
Bodies pressed against Kaz's, pushing past in search of light. He stood rooted to the spot, not allowing anxiety to settle in his stomach. After all, she was still Natasha Van Doren. He had faith in her, even if he knew he shouldn't.
"Lay down your arms," Her voice reverberated off the perimeter, echoing several times. She looked over the crowd, none of them daring to move. Natasha raised an amused brow as she watched a few Ravkan guards huddle like toy soldiers around King Nikolai's carriage.
"Did you not hear the first time," Natasha sneered. She dissolved a layer of shadows with a twirl of her wrist. Dappled lights weakly fell through the umbra as golden elixir poured into the mouth of Hades.
"We will not fall," A young Ravkan cried out. The others stamped their feet in time with his chants. "We will protect our king and our country. You will fall," Natasha rolled her eyes, pushing her way through the crowds.
"You," She said. Her tone was even, a paradox to the cruelty in her voice. "Your name?" When the Ravkan didn't respond, Natasha took his chin in her palm. "I asked," She breathed, her lips against his ear. "What is your name?"
