Disclaimer: All rights go to Leigh Bardugo
A/N: I wrote this back in December for a school honor society thing. Thought it would be cool to post it here since it basically counts as fanfiction. Hope you enjoy this short little one shot. Constructive criticism and positive feedback are welcome :)
Warning: Character death
Gratitude
When the Squaller seized Inej's arms, she was ready for death. What Inej was unprepared for was the look on Kaz's face-a sudden flash of vulnerability and fear across his handsome, pale features. Immediately afterwards, the booming shots of Jesper and Matthias's bullets resounded across the field. They slung past her like shooting stars, all fire and speed and destruction. It was with a sinking stomach as she rose higher and higher into the air that she knew they were too late.
Kaz, she thought, as wind whipped across her face and fingers tightened around her arms like talons. I'm so sorry.
But, Inej Ghafa was the Wraith, the Dregs' trusted spider, Kaz Brekker's spy, and she would not die with fear laced like poison down her throat, or defeat clogging the crimson blood of her Suli veins. She would not be a bargaining chip, no more than she would have accepted to remain a pliant fool to Heleen's customers. Twisting in the Grisha's grasp, Inej contorted her thin frame in the familiar motions of her family's acrobatic performances. Her legs spun in deadly arcs, and there was a moment of brilliant satisfaction that coursed through her when she managed to kick the Squaller's stomach. It was a brief victory. As soon as she was released, the world was falling around her in a blur, and Inej was plummeting towards the earth, a shooting star herself.
She had always wondered how she would meet her end. Dreamed of it after her worst runs through the Barrel. They were always horrendous conjurings of her imaginations-stabbed in the greasy dark alleys of Ketterdam, strangled by one of the Menagerie's customers, on the receiving end of Kaz's unforgiving, dark stare. But they were always bloody, terrible deaths, unforgiving and cruel nightmares.
By the Sankts, Inej thought, as weak slants of sunlight penetrated through the hazy grey sky and all that was left of the world was herself, the whistling of cold wind, and the sun. There are worse ways to die.
She was back to just being an acrobat, falling and flying in the air without a net. She was free again-freer than she has ever been since the night that she arrived in Ketterdam and into Tante Heleen's cruel, terrible arms. A fitting end for Inej Ghafa, the Suli girl that was born to ancestors that danced in the air and would now die doing so as well.
She knew the earth must be close, supposed that this must be some twisted karma from the universe for all the times she defied gravity. All that was left for her to do was close her eyes and mutter a prayer of thanks to the Sankts to keep her friends safe.
Oddly enough, what slipped past her lips was not the familiar names of Sankt Petyr or Sankta Alina. It wasn't even a plea for mercy or a cry for help. It was a name, panicked and desperate, yelled out into the atmosphere for the gods to pluck out from the sky.
"Kaz!"
The words were ripped out of her throat and lost somewhere above her. Her eyes stung and watered-but from grief or regret or the cold air itself, Inej did not know. All at once, devastation rippled through her, but she knew there was no time, no way, to save her.
Memories flickered in her mind in quick succession: the thrill she got after completing a job, the moon's beautiful glint over the river's oil-black water, dark-plumed crows pecking bread crumbs out of her hand.
She remembered Nina's soft brown eyes framed by thick lashes, Wylan and Jesper's furtive affectionate glances at each other, Matthias's poor attempts at concealing a smile during their meetings. She remembered Kaz. His hesitant gloved touch closing around her wrist. The sharp, beautiful planes of his face. Dark hair like ink swept across a handsome forehead. A scowling mouth and gravelly voice. Eyes that only softened at the corners. And somewhere, behind walls and locks and secrets, a boy's heart.
Inej Ghafa was no longer just the daughter of Suli acrobats. She had ceased being that girl the moment she was taken from her home, the moment she shook a gloved hand and smiled into the eyes of a young criminal. Barrel boys were born in the harbour and crawled out from the canals, but Inej-Inej was a girl swallowed by the Barrel and spat back out as a weapon. There was so much more she wanted to be-a captain, a savior, a legend-but living as Dirtyhands' Wraith was an honor she never would have expected.
And maybe it shouldn't have been enough. But it was.
She closed her eyes. Could practically hear the frantic screams of her friends below her. The sun was shining now, warm against her closed eyelids. She had one last thought.
Thank you, Kaz Brekker.
Death was quicker and softer than Inej could have ever wished for.