It did not make sense for Kaz Brekker to be doing this. To be putting his precious time, brains and money on something that would give him absolutely nothing back. There was no profit to be gained, no threats to be made clear…...
There was only revenge to be taken.
If he were to follow this impractical decision; Kaz knew that it would be larger than anything he had ever attempted to tamper with before. It seemed like an impossible likelihood after all that he had been through, but the stakes were once again; higher than all the other games he had played.
Higher than with the Ice court.
Higher than with Van Eck.
Maybe...somewhere on par with the ones with Pekka Rollins.
It was unfathomable, but even as Kaz listed the overwhelming amount of cons associated with the job he had in his mind, he already knew that he would go through with it.
The huge Fjerdan had not been his brother; definitely not been his friend; there was no comparison to be held between him and the people Kaz actually might care about. Heck, he was sure that he cared less about him than he did for the Barrel slime on his boots. Nevertheless, when Kaz had stood with the others, watching his body on the cold garage floor; among flashes of horror and revulsion and memories of wet; clammy bodies; he had found himself making a silent promise.
I can't bring you back from the dead, Helvar….
…..but I can make sure someone pays.
Then he had curtly reminded the rest that there was still work that had to be done; as it always did; and as simply as that; his mind had turned to other matters.
But he remembered his promise.
By now, Nina would be in Ravka, having secured transport for herself to Fjerda, to bury her lover as he had wished, so he could be reunited with Djel and all the details that Kaz did not respect enough to remember. Nina would still be devastated, of course; and it was apparent that recovery would take time. Kaz could not help with that. But her recovery would happen, and that fiery Grisha would go on fulfilling her promises and serving her country.
What she would not do was take revenge.
Revenge did not equal recovery. It obstructed it. It pulled you farther in the darkness and it kept you there, feebly struggling….until one day you stopped and made yourself at home.
People like Nina would never do that. They would never succumb to the darkness because they were strong. People like Kaz, however, had made that darkness their reason to thrive.
And he was not going to change any time soon. He was going to make sure he kept his promise, even if he had no reason to. Even if Inej would tell him it was not what Helvar wanted.
Because Helvar was dead.
What mattered to Kaz was that he had been with them when they had been helpless, he was there when the entire world had been against them. He could have betrayed them whenever he wanted. Kaz would never admit it, but they would not have been able to secure victory and wealth, if he had not been on their side. Helvar might have been blackmailed into it, might have only stayed for his own selfish reasons; but the fact that he was part of the hopeless team remained the same.
Even if Kaz ended up antagonizing every citizen of Fjerda, every citizen of Kerch and probably everyone in between; depending who came in his way. Even if he ended up being thrown out by his own country.
That thought made Kaz laugh.
He must have sounded like a lunatic; laughing alone (or indeed, laughing at all) in his empty Dreg's office to Rotty; who gave a hesitant knock on his door two seconds later.
Kaz called him in; completely unbothered. He took in the details of Rotty's appearance, as was his habit to do with everyone. It had been two months since the auction at the Cathedral, two months since every one of them had grown filthy rich. Rotty was already, unashamedly showing off signs of it; dressed in smooth velvet from head to toe, his boots gleaming; and his beard, for once, completely kempt.
He did not even raise an eyebrow at this; Kaz had been expecting it.
"You better not have come here for a tearful farewell." He told him as Rotty neared his desk.
The man only shook his head, smiling slightly. It both pleased and unnerved Kaz how well accustomed everyone at the Crow Club had become of his rudeness. It was uncanny and slightly dangerous. Not openly of course...but they should despise him.
"I don't expect tears from you." Rotty began, "and as I don't want to be booted out of here in my new clothes, I came with an important message. The one you wanted."
Kaz did not move, only looked at Rotty with expectant eyes as the large man slipped a letter out of his fine vest. He pressed it on the desk in front of him.
"It's from the most reliable in the Isles. I don't know the details, but, I think they should be arriving soon."
Kaz nodded briefly, not picking up the letter just yet.
"You handled everything here?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.
Rotty straightened his coat. He seemed slightly uncomfortable in his new luxury. Poor lad.
"Yes. Everything done so I can forget about this rotten place for at least the next five years….and then I'll come back."
Of course he would. And Kaz would have work ready for him.
Silence stretched between them; then Rotty nodded and turned away, walking towards the door.
"Good work."
Rotty's hands still on the brass door knob. The he nodded again; without turning his head; opened the door and left.
Kaz stretched and finally picked up the letter; feeling its rough edge underneath his gloves. If he opened it, there would be no turning back. He would be plunging himself directly into a war that had been plaguing the world even before his parents had been born. There would be extra care to be taken; so much more things to be considered. He would also set in motion the numerous repercussions that would probably leave him dead. Or worse.
He grinned again.
But when have the odds concerning him ever been different?
They were the stakes he fought with daily, and it seemed there was no breaking the habit.
I will make sure someone pays….
He cut open the letter and leaned back in his chair.
About half an hour later, Kaz Brekker swept up his cane, fixed his hat and trailed out of his office as dusk began to settle in the city. Outside, on the opposite side of Ketterdam, a large ship was being moored, hailed and welcomed with much cheering and fanfare by the black-robed merchant council; its Fjerdan flag fluttering lightly in the receding wind.
When Kaz had first crossed paths with the Djel-worshippers it had been as a thief, someone who had no business with them other than the precious jewel they possessed. He had not gone out of his way to make things difficult for them. He hadn't particularly cared. And he would've rather kept it that way.
But now, things were different.
All of them were supposed to make it out alive….
Brick by Brick, Helvar. Kaz thought, as his cane tapped briskly on the pavement, propelling him forward.
Brick by Brick.
…
A/N:
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I STILL HAVE NOT RECOVERED FROM MATTHIAS' DEATH! So i wrote this. It's kind of out-of-character for Kaz, but it made me feel better to think that he loved his friends. :)
RxR!