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It was just past midnight at the Crow Club, and the party was in full swing.
Not that there was a particular festival or celebration today; the club was loud and bustling most every night, filled with patrons gabbing and gambling and drinking. The never-ending stream of tourists occasionally surprised Inej, as there weren’t too many large attractions in Ketterdam to draw in the crowds. Then again, a good chunk of the city was built from markets, and items from around the world could be found for sale among them. There was also the constant cycle of sailors coming and going from the busiest docks in Kerch, along with quite a few regulars from the Geldin district who could afford to spend wads of kruge on a regular basis.
In any case, it was a valuable asset to the Dregs that kept their coffers full. It also pleased Kaz that his favorite investment was flourishing. He stood near the bar, silently surveying the room. His face was as blank as ever, but Inej had learned to notice the tiniest changes in his expression, and she knew he was proud of his work.
Kaz turned his head slightly, quickly picking out her face from across the room as she sipped a drink in the corner and kept an eye on things. The corner of his mouth quirked up in recognition, and she sent a subtle smile right back.
Well, maybe the Crow Club wasn’t his favorite investment.
Her attention was drawn to a commotion beginning near the front entrance. A man was pushing his way through the crowd, eliciting indignant yelps and muffled curses from the patrons. Inej stood slowly, moving her hands to the knives tucked into her corset in case this became a problem. He was dressed in the clothes of an average workman, although he was clearly disheveled and had likely neglected his personal hygiene for a few days. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t armed.
“Kaz Brekker!” the man called out. “Dirtyhands!” He came to a stop when he broke through the other end of the crowd and faced Kaz, who didn’t seem concerned at all. He simply stood where he was, hands on his cane, casual but firm.
“Is there a reason you have come into my establishment and disturbed my business?” Kaz asked calmly. He waved a hand out toward the room. “I’m sure my good patrons would like an explanation of why their night has been interrupted.” The people in the room quickly quieted, hesitant to see if this would be entertaining or dangerous. Kaz was known to both humiliate and mutilate his enemies, and they waited to see which would happen this time.
Inej would later find out that this man was a Healer, currently residing in Kerch. He had received word that his sister in Ravka, Katya, was deathly ill, so he immediately arranged for passage overseas. The ship in Fifth Harbor that was due to carry him, however, was delayed leaving port for a day. Kaz was searching out a mole who had fled, so ships were detained to be searched. In the end, the man had reached Ravka to find Katya dead for only a few hours and a fury growing inside him. He had nothing left to live for.
His story ended with him staring up at Kaz with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into his fists at his sides. The two of them were locked in the moment, one quivering with rage, and the other impassively waiting for a response. Inej slowly slid one of her knives from its sheath; the man had no weaponry, but she could tell that he was still a threat, somehow.
The man closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. Then he straightened, and resignation crossed his face.
“For Katya,” he said, and even as Inej pulled her arm back with a knife in her hand, she watched him raise his hands together, then pull his left back toward him in a fist in a silent but resounding yank.
All at once, her blade found the man’s neck, Kaz’s face went slack, and the crowd exploded into screams.
“Kaz!” she shouted, and climbed onto a nearby table to get a better view over the patrons who were now in a furor, trampling each other in a mad stampede for the exit. It was too packed for her to weave between them, so she leapt over them, jumping from table to table toward the back.
Her own heart stopped for a second as she reached Kaz. His legs had simply buckled beneath him, and he’d collapsed on the spot. His cane had clattered to the ground beside him, no longer of use. Possibly of no use ever again.
The thought jolted her back into herself, and she slid to her knees by his side and rolled him onto his back. “Kaz? Kaz!” She pressed two fingers to the soft flesh of his neck where she knew she would feel his pulse thrumming, reassuring her of his condition, letting her know that he would be all right.
Seconds passed, and she felt none.
Immediately, she jumped into action and pressed her hands over his sternum in the way she’d been shown so many years ago by her parents, in case of emergency. Over and over, she threw her weight down and forced his heart to beat inside his ribcage. She cringed as she felt one snap under her compressions, but she couldn’t slow down or let up. Kaz’s life–and he still had one, he did–depended on it.
Then, miraculously, a loud voice called from upstairs. “What’s happened? I heard screaming, more than usual.”
Relief washed over Inej, and she thanked every Saint she knew as she remembered that Nina was at the Crow Club, that she’d gone upstairs for a drink to clear a headache she’d had. “Nina!” she shrieked, and in a second, footsteps were rushing down the stairs and into the club.
“What’s wrong–Saints,” Nina gasped, and hurried to Kaz’s other side. Her wide eyes scanned the scene before her frantically. “How long?”
Inej’s head was spinning. “A–a minute, maybe?” She let herself be pushed back as Nina took over manually beating Kaz’s heart, her Heartrender abilities likely far more effective than her panicked ministrations. “A Heartrender–I, I think–he did something, and Kaz just fell–”
Nina nodded, glancing for a second back at the body crumpled a few feet away. “Okay. No other major wounds?”
“No.” Inej hovered beside them and felt useless as she sat idly. Her body had gone into battle mode, but the adrenaline in her veins did nothing but make her hands shake in her lap. A hand instinctively went to her other forearm where Sankt Petyr hid. Her knives were calming, made her feel powerful. In control. But right now, a blade, like her, could do nothing.
“Good. If his body is healthy, it’s just a matter of restarting his heart. Convincing it to return to work.” Her pumping motions became more determined and forceful. “Come on, you miserable slug of a man,” she muttered. “Get back here, Brekker. You thought I was stubborn before–I’m not letting you leave until I say so.”
Inej studied Kaz’s lax face. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so tranquil. For once, no set to his jaw, no crease between his brows. No pain haunting his every thought. Eyes closed and still, he looked like he could be just sleeping, more at peace than he’d been in a very long time.
With shaking fingers, she brushed a stray lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Please, Kaz,” she whispered, and gently cupped the side of his face in her palm. “Don’t go. Not like this.” With the other hand, she took his limp hand in hers and squeezed gently. “Save it for a blaze of glory. A final showdown. Make it mean something.”
Inej could feel tears beginning to roll down her cheeks, but she didn’t move to wipe them away. “Kaz, please.” Her thumb brushed over his cheek, and though they’d never been so physical under normal circumstances, it felt right. Too right to be taken away already. “Don’t leave me.”
It was just beginning to set in that Kaz was gone when his whole body flinched, and Nina shuddered and leaned back, breathing hard but with a smile starting to form. Inej looked between her and Kaz, momentarily thrown, when she saw his chest rise and fall. Again, she pressed her fingers to his neck and let out a grateful sob when she felt a weak pulse.
“Alive,” Nina confirmed, nodding. “It’s weak, but steady. With some rest, I think he’ll be okay.”
Inej moved to her and threw her arms around her shoulders, nearly bowling Nina over. “Thank you,” she cried, squeezing tight, and Nina mirrored the gesture. “Thank you, thank you.”
Inej pulled back and wiped her cheeks with her sleeves. Nina’s eyes were watery as well, although she tried to put up the confident look she usually sported.
“Of course,” she replied unsteadily, her smiling lips trembling and eyes blinking rapidly. “Any time.”
Inej returned to hold Kaz’s hand. His eyes were still closed, but now his lips were parted to breathe, and his face occasionally twitched minutely. She didn’t know if she’d ever seen something so wonderful.
Nina touched her upper arm comfortingly. “Let’s get him upstairs, all right? Somewhere more comfortable.” Inej nodded, and as Nina began to manhandle him into a sitting position, she turned to the door, where a few remaining Dregs and patrons lingered and watched in horror and fascination.
“The Crow Club is closed for the night,” Inej said loudly, falling easily back into an attitude of authority. “Close up shop.”
The gang members nodded and mumbled affirmatives before ushering everyone out and beginning to clean up the room. A couple stood over the attacker’s corpse, trying to decide what to do with it.
Between them, carrying Kaz wasn’t too difficult, slung around each of their shoulders, and Inej was even more grateful for Nina, this time for her height and sturdier build. They managed to get him into the upper rooms and onto a velvet couch. Inej laid his head on a cushion, then remembered and did the same with his bad leg. He’d likely ache in the morning, but a sore Kaz was better than no Kaz.
“I’m no Healer,” Nina said, now in more control of her voice, “but he definitely needs rest, and a good lot of it. At least for two days.” She looked him up and down and folded her arms. “I don’t want his heart giving out because he’s an arrogant idiot who thinks he can will himself healthy.”
“Then we tell him four days,” Inej replied. “He’ll say one, we’ll say three, and it’ll be settled on two.” She hadn’t been able to take her eyes off of his chest, his mouth, every second confirming that he was still breathing.
Nina laughed at that. “Good plan.” Then, more softly: “You really know him, don’t you?”
“In a way. Sometimes it feels like I know him inside and out, and sometimes like I don’t know him at all.” Kaz Brekker was a mystery whose past was painful and scarring, and he hid most of the details close to his chest, unknown to anyone. But Kaz, the one she knew, who talked with her long into the night, who pushed himself to hold her hand, who was learning that his Crows were less like employees and more like family? Him, she knew. Now she was learning that she needed him, as well.
Finally, she looked up and met Nina’s eyes. “I know what I need to, and that’s enough for me.”
Nina nodded, like something had just fallen softly into place. She reached out and gave Inej’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll go make us some tea. It’s been a long night.”
Inej smiled. “Thank you,” she said again, and she hoped Nina knew it was for much more than the tea.
As Nina left for the kitchen, Inej pulled up a chair to sit beside the couch. She would stay until he opened his eyes and said something terribly clever and bickered with Nina. She would watch over him as if her own heart had been carved out and laid bare before her.
Slowly, she leaned forward and once more touched his neck to feel the steady beat of his life under her fingers. It marched on, and as long as it did, so would she.