Echo • Six Of Crows - Kaz Brekker

20

Mavka had returned to her spot by the bars, soundless. She could feel the others watching, but at least now she would be left in peace.

Inej took up the space beside her, eyeing the other prisoners. "Was that necessary?"

Mavka slowly swiveleld her eyes to meet Inej's russet brown ones. She rose an eyebrow. She moved her index finger side to side, pointed to her friends chest and gestured outwards.

Inej mulled over her answer and found she couldnt come up with a response. What would she have done? She'd liked to think she wouldn't have been as aggressive, but she also didn't have Grisha powers like Nina and Mavka, nor did she know what was going on inside the girls head. It wasn't her place to judge, so why was she?

At the silence, Mavka gave her a look. Inej couldnt find fault in what she had done.

In truth, Mavka believed it was entirely necessary. She was not weak, she was not a little girl anymore, and she would not allow herself to be walked all over because others viewed her as powerless; She was far from it. Now that the others knew to keep their mouths shut and stay away, it made it easier to continue with the plan.

They all seemed to have that in mind now. Nina joined them in the corner, curious. "How are we getting out of this?" She murmured worriedly.

"They took your lockpick." Inej agreed.

The wraith knew. Of course the Wraith knew. Mavka did well to keep her usual lock picks a secret, tucking them behind her ear and keeping them hidden by her hair. When she first started out she had fashioned her own tools out of an old metal hair clip she had found in the street left for garbage. It was thin and the middle rod was sharp - the side edges she had carved ridges into that acted like teeth on a key. It could be taken apart into two seperate tools and clipped back together whenever she wanted.

Her real, much newer and efficient lockpicking tools had been kept on the ferolind with her faithful sword. Those Kaz had baught her when she first joined the Dregs and these she would have mourned the loss of.

The one she had confiscated in the showers was an old one she held onto for nothing but sentimental values - values she could put aside for a job of this calibre. Stealing was the first thing she learnt to do when she ran away, it was the only way to sustain herself. Pickpocketing was easy, but at night she could break into the back doors of shops and leave with a handful of coins, a low enough amount that left the shopkeeper unaware the next morning, but would buy her food for the day or even a room at a hostel.

Mavka bit back a smile. That was the plan. She nodded calmly, not looking the least bit troubled, and the two girls looked between eachother, not entirely following.

It was at times like this she reminded the girls too much of Kaz; one step ahead, secretly in on a part of the plan no one else had intel on, prepared for things to go wrong at any turn and able to adapt. Kaz had a habit of keeping most of his brilliant schemes to himself, only letting them know at the last second or as the action swept them up into chaos - he was good, but it was infuriating.

The short haired girl in front of them was a carbon copy in many ways. They weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Mavka tapped her lips.

"The guards will show up for their round at six bells," Said Nina. "What are you going to do, just tell them to let us out?" 

She rolled her eyes, brushing her hair back. It would be a lot more complicated than that. There were a hundred factors she had to consider - how many guards would show up for the head count? She would have to get Nina to knock them out at first, where Mavka would then wake them one at a time. She'd have to get them to make no noise, to let them out, to then forget all that they had seen - the guards would need to return to their post none to wiser to three missing prisoners, reporting back no changes. She would have to be careful with her words. The less changes to their minds she caused, the less likely their character would be off - if any other guards spoke to them or saw them acting dazed, confused or even slightly less talkative than usual - they'd suspect foul play.