the bitterest dregs

chapter one ~ ketterdam

Kaz Brekker didn't need a reason. But he did need a new hat.

Where's Inej when I need her, his mind grumbled as he stepped swiftly over the rain-slicked cobblestone lining East Stave. He quieted the thought. She was happier now. He was certain of it. Surely, open sea air and her own sleek ship cutting through the blood of slavers meant more to her than a life in this damp, miserable place with his damp, miserable self. Kaz took the battered hat from his head and punched it a few times, as if that would give it more shape. He'd have to tell Anika to get him a new one. She wouldn't like the order - but then again, she didn't have to.

He turned a corner, eyes flickering over the dark shapes of buildings as he moved towards the Slat and away from the bustling lights and noise of the Staves. Rain had held Ketterdam in its icy grip for days now, coating the blackened streets with slick puddles and causing the beggars to run for shelter. Kaz's eyes skipped over two shivering boys, crouched under a raggedy awning. He kept his eyes on the horizon, cane slapping against the cobblestone in a sharp rhythm.

You can make something of yourselves, he wanted to say. I did. The pain only makes you stronger. Inej would have stopped, helped them, given them a warm coat or coin for food. But Inej was no longer his shadow, and Dirtyhands did not have time for soaked and starving boys.

Kaz walked on, collar turned up against the cold.

He would have to visit Jesper and Wylan again soon. Wylan was always dithering about how his presence would upset his mother and cause Jesper to fall back into the hands of crime (not a bad pair of hands, thought Kaz, in the end), but Kaz kept on visiting, and Wylan kept on letting him in. Business purposes only, Kaz told himself each time, but his feet always led him back to the mansion on the Geldcanal.

Now they led him home, his old injury flaring up for the first time in weeks. It was the rain, soaking into his bones and putting a sour twist on his mood. Kaz's stride stopped underneath an awning. He placed both hands on the crow head of his cane and waited for his shadow to catch up.

Inej would already be ahead, he thought, and quelled it as soon as it surfaced. Inej no longer snuck silently across the rooftops of Ketterdam. There was no one to lead him up to the tip of the Church of Barter, bite at him with her silence as she followed him to the Crow Club or the Slat. He still paused, sometimes, more out of habit than anything else, and waited for her to speak, only to realise there was nothing in the shadows but memories, and the ghost of the girl who had so easily snuck up on him where no one else could. Kaz wondered if she climbed to the top of the Wraith's crowsnest with the same ease, a girl pulled into the sky on the wings of an acrobat. There was no point in wondering. She was gone, and she left only shadows and empty rooftops behind.

"What business?" asked Kaz to his shadow, crisp and straight to the point. His shadow made no response, but moved closer, a sharp slab of shingle cracking and skidding off a nearby roof. Had it been one of his gang members, Kaz might have chided them for their clumsiness.

"You're a hard man to find, Kaz Brekker," said a cheery voice, and a dark-coated man stepped out of the shadows. Another figure stepped out on the left, the glint of axe blades at their hip.

"Not really," replied Kaz. "I'm either at the Crow Club, the Slat, or somewhere in between. I expect your lack of knowledge of this city didn't serve you well in your search."

"Charming as ever," said the figure to his left, a woman's voice. "You weren't actually that hard to find. My dear captain here simply likes to say dramatic lines."

"We also have an informant," chimed in the man. "One rather close to you."

Kaz resisted a snort. "You're clearly new to the business. Most attempting a kidnapping wouldn't give so much information away. You might be a privateer, Sturmhond, but you're no Kerch kidnapper."

The man stepped forward, hand extended, a grin on his face. "Thought you wouldn't recognise me without my turquoise ensemble."

"This is easier on the eyes, to be sure." Kaz didn't take his hand. "What business brings the desperate monarchy to my doorstep once more?"

The woman - Tamar, Kaz thought her name was - and Sturmhond exchanged a glance.

"We'd best go inside," said Nikolai grimly. "Do you have any tea?"

"This is Ketterdam," said Kaz, walking on and allowing his Ravkan companions to fall into step behind him. "I think you'll have to settle for coffee."

cover from @/aspenstories on pinterest