Even after walking the streets of the Barrel for two years, Matthias still found himself lost more often than he would like. The winding roads and alleys had no order. It was as if a child's scribbles had been used to design the town.
He missed a lot from Fjerda. His culture and people. The people who believed in his gods rather than insulting them. He even missed the biting cold that he and the other Drüskelle used to curse. It was better than the stifling heat of summers in the Barrel.
But he really missed the order.
Fjerdian towns and cities were built with order. Structure. His people's leaders would gather and plan out a city before the first corner stone was laid.
Matthias slowed his walk as a rat passed under his feet, darting from one side of the alley to the other. He frowned.
Fjerda also did not have as many rats. They froze to death and the ones that survived didn't look like the washed up and bareboned creatures of the Barrel. They were strong and hardy. Even the rats of Fjerda were stronger than those of the Barrel.
Generally, Matthias preferred taking the back alleys and small streets. Fewer people to run into and not as many stares to respond to with glaring. People in Ketterdam always stared. Always watched. Everywhere he went, he felt eyes on his back.
People of the Barrel were nosy and noisy.
Nina was noisy but she did it different. He liked her noisy. It was grounding and distracting at the same time. It was safe.
Matthias's path intersected with the one main road he couldn't avoid. The street was crowded with people walking past, pointing at the little shops, and speaking over the crowd to the point of shouting.
He hated it.
If he had the skill of Inej, he'd travel by the roof tops, but that wasn't an option.
Matthias walked through the crowd. Most of the people hurried out of his way. If Nina were with him, she would probably say he was glaring. Which was true, but he had a reason.
He was annoyed.
Matthias almost stopped walking.
He listened to snippets of conversation as he passed. Mostly Kerch. But he'd heard Fjerdan.
If he ran into Fjerdan's or – even worse – Drüskelle, he thought Kaz might actually try to kill him.
They had gone through so much to fake his death. He had even been shot by a young Drüskelle just to make it look realistic. If the Drüskelle found out it would all be for nothing.
Matthias scanned the crowd but didn't see the grey of the Drüskelle uniform.
It sounded like Fjerdan but Matthias assumed it was just nostalgia.
As he continued, he walked faster. He could not jeopardize what little bit of peace he had built with Nina.
He finally reached another branch off alley from the big road. It was barely wide enough for him to outstretch his arms. He was almost positive this one led to the Crow Club.
"Excuse me, sir?"
The voice came from behind Matthias.
Matthias turned.
The man was shorter than Matthias. He had light colored hair and dark skin. His outfit was made of the flashy material that the Kerch dared to call fashion, but he stood and spoke like a Fjerdan.
Matthias looked down at the man, using his height to the fullest.
I do not want to fight you, Matthias thought, as if thinking the words would make the man back off. Do not fight me.
"Do you know the way to the Port? I've been looking for hours, but these streets…they have no organization." The man laughed, Matthias didn't.
"I do not."
"Hmm. Too bad."
The man charged him. Matthias saw the flash of metal.
The pistol was pointed at Matthias.
He slapped the man's hand and the gun flew out of the man's poor grip.
Matthias glanced behind.
Three more Fjerdian's we coming, with the formation Matthias himself had learned in Drüskelle training.
The three were so focused on Matthias, they did not watch their backs. Rookie mistake.
Kaz came around the corner and Matthias's eyes weren't fast enough to follow Kaz holding a knife in one hand to it sticking out of the Drüskelle's leg.
In one solid punch, Matthias knocked out the first Drüskelle. He hit the ground with a dull thud.
Kaz took down another Drüskelle with a swing of his cane.
Like everything about Kaz, he had turned his need for a cane into a weapon.
The last Drüskelle, Matthias grabbed by the throat and slammed into the wall.
The Drüskelle's eyes went wide.
"Who sent you?" Matthias growled.
The Drüskelle looked over Matthias's shoulder at Kaz, and somehow managed to look even more frightened.
"Our superiors. We're supposed to meet with a few merchers."
"A few merchers?" Kaz said, from behind Matthias.
The hairs on the back of Matthias's neck stood up. He did not like being unable to see Kaz. They'd been working together for years, but Matthias doubted he would ever fully trust Kaz.
"Who?" Kaz asked.
The Drüskelle shook his head what little bit he could with Matthias still holding him.
"I don't know. Kerch names. They are hard." The Drüskelle gave a small nod to the first Drüskelle Matthias ran into. "He is the one that was supposed to know."
Matthias could feel Kaz looking over Matthias's shoulder.
"That's a bit convenient, don't you think, Hevlar?"
Matthias's jaw ticked at Kaz saying his name. He was trying to keep his identity a secret. But then, for the Drüskelle to attack him they probably already knew who he was.
"Definitely," Matthias said.
The Drüskelle shook his head.
"No, no, really! I do not know the names!"
Kaz was silent for a moment before speaking up.
"Hevlar, we're close enough to the Crow Club. Bring him with us."
Hevlar pulled the Drüskelle away from the wall and put one hand on his shoulder.
"Don't try to run."
The Drüskelle nodded that he understood.
Kaz gestured for them to continue through the alley and that he'd follow.
Matthias pushed the Drüskelle forward.
As soon as the he passed, the Drüskelle with the gun sat up. Matthias had thought the man was unconscious.
Matthias was looking down the barrel when the man pulled the trigger.
Matthias squeezed his eyes shut waiting for pain or death, but neither came.
Instead he heard the gunshot followed by a string of Kerch curse words.
He opened his eyes.
The Drüskelle was on the ground, a knife sticking out of his throat.
And Kaz was on the ground too, holding his bleeding shoulder.
Matthias froze.
Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel just took a bullet for him. Matthias didn't remember a time he'd been more confused.
"Yes, Hevlar. Just stand there looking stupid. It's what you're good at," Kaz said, before gritting his teeth.
The insult was enough to bring Matthias out of his daze.
Matthias muttered a few curses of his own.
He glanced at their prisoner, trying to figure out what to do with him. He decided on a quick punch. The Drüskelle was knocked out before he hit the ground, but Matthias didn't really care.
He looked down at Kaz.
He couldn't help but think about when Tressel was injured and bit a chunk out of Matthias's arm. Kaz wouldn't bit him if Matthias got too close, would he?
It was worth the risk.
Matthias scooted closer.
"Move your hand," Matthias ordered.
Kaz glared.
"I can't assess the situation if I don't see the wound, Kaz," Matthias said, annoyance leaking into his voice.
Grudgingly, Kaz moved his hand.
The wound was bleeding sluggishly and was quickly staining Kaz's shirt. A flesh wound. In and out.
It looked like it hurt like hell, but as long as they found the Grisha healer Kaz hired after Jesper got hurt, Kaz would be fine.
"You'll live," Matthias said. "But your shirt won't."
Kaz rolled his eyes. "No shit."
He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring Matthias's offered hand.
"We need to get back to the Crow Club," Kaz said, straight-faced as ever. Blood continued oozing through Kaz's gloved fingers. He pointed at the Drüskelle Matthias knocked out. "Bring him."
Matthias frowned but picked the Drüskelle up.
Together, they made their way to the Crow Club.
