Kaz Brekker crumpled the letter in his fist, the shine of the paper mocking him as he discarded it in a nearby trash can. He had to make a plan. It would most likely be insane and almost impossible, but he was no stranger to defying the odds. But first things first, he needed to get out of this damn shop. All the ticking from the clocks was driving him crazy.
Kaz limped out of the back room and immediately saw a cash register that definitely hadn't been there before he had opened the letter. Not surprised by the random and peculiar appearance, Kaz slipped his lock picks out of his coat pocket and set to work, coaxing the lock on the drawer to open. At least he'd have some kruge with him—or whatever money was called on this damned island. The drawer slid open like it had been waiting to be robbed and Kaz slipped an ungloved hand inside, hoping for a decent amount.
But inside, there were no coins or crisp paper money. Instead, the cash register held a single intricately designed brass key. Holding back a groan of frustration, Kaz picked up the key and turned it over in his fingers. Well, if the owner of the shop had it locked up, it had to be worth something.
He began searching the store again, looking for a small keyhole. Kaz glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner and narrowed his eyes. His hunches were very rarely wrong, so Kaz decided to inspect it in further detail. Pushing it with a great amount of difficulty despite its deceiving lightly constructed design, Kaz took in the back of the clock, searching for any nook or cranny in which a key could be placed. There—next to a particularly large gear, was a keyhole that matched the size of the brass key in his hand. Kaz inserted the key and turned it, almost expecting an explosion or bells and whistles to go off. Well, he was almost right—as soon as the key had been placed in the groove and turned, every single clock except the grandfather clock the key had been inserted into started blasting its own music and sound effects. More than a few cuckoos popped out of tiny doors in the clocks. Scowling, Kaz put his hands to his ears to block the ear-splitting sounds. Then, all at once, the clocks stopped and went back to their normal, ticking states. Kaz cautiously removed his hands, half expecting the clocks to start blaring again, but there was complete silence save for the incessant ticking.
A very brightly colored door sprung open straight from the wall on the opposite side of the room. He couldn't explain it, but Kaz felt an unseen presence urging him to walk through it, enticing him and persuading. He shook his head and frowned. This place was definitely getting to him. Kaz crossed the room and hesitated for just a moment before stepping through the painted neon green door.
Nina Zenik huffed in annoyance at the letter. She stared at it with a furious gaze, hoping it would magically burst into flames. To her surprise, it actually did. Nina dropped the quickly burning silver paper to the road beneath her in shock. And as the letter disintegrated before her eyes, Nina could have sworn she heard a high-pitched cackle.
She whirled around to find no one there, the discovery extinguishing her hope that an inferni had destroyed the letter. At least that way, something would make sense here.
"Get it together, Zenik," she muttered to herself. She brushed off the sleeves of her scarlet kefta and stared down the seemingly endless path in front of her.
Her mind recalled the images of her walking for what seemed to be hours down that very path as well as the beach, but it felt different this time. Like if she really wanted to, she could escape.
There—she could hear faint music playing. Some drums, possibly a guitar—no definitely a guitar, and a flute. She concentrated on that music, let it seep into her mind until that was all she was thinking of. And then, she started down the cobblestone road once more.
Wylan shut his eyes as the doll's porcelaine lips stopped moving. He'd seen some very strange things in his time in the Barrel, but nothing came close to a talking doll giving him instructions for some inane game he had to play to leave an island he'd magically appeared on. Yup, this one took the cake.
Leaning back in his chair, Wylan opened his eyes and considered the doll. He could see his own orange curls and freckled face in reflection of the gleaming glass eyes it possessed. He doubted he'd be the only one playing this game. There had to be other players—some competition. Maybe it was possible that others from Ketterdam had been chosen for this game? Why would he be so special to be the only one plucked and then dropped onto the board?
He drummed his fingers on his leg. Maybe Jesper was also here. Saints, please let Jes also be here. Wylan stared at the shining gold ring on his finger and let a stupid smile grace his face before mentally slapping himself. He needed to concentrate on a plan, not blush and giggle over his engagement ring.
A deafening crack sounded in front of him and Wylan's focus shot to the doll sitting only a few inches away. Its skull was split right down the middle, something packaged inside. Frowning, Wylan peered inside the large crack and pulled out a poorly wrapped package. He tore open the paper to find 2 pearly revolvers that brought a smile to his face. It was a sign. Jes had to be on the island too.
As Wylan pocketed the guns in his coat, he noticed a second item inside the doll's skull. He plucked the vial and saw that it contained a translucent chemical.
Wylan turned around and marched towards the wall on the opposite side of the room, letting a single drop of the chemical drizzle down the extravagant wall. The liquid fizzled and burned a small hole into it, rapidly increasing in length. When he was sure the chemical had done its job and wouldn't harm him, Wylan stepped through the large hole and looked to the dark sky in front of him. He marched on into the night, sure his path would lead him to Jesper, and then Caraval.
Jesper Fahey stood from his table with a loud screech of his chair, the letter in his hand falling to the ground. The entire room looked towards him and the loud noise that had disrupted him. Apparently he wasn't invisible anymore. Jesper gave a sheepish smile and hurried out the door of the pub. The sun had set in the short time he had been inside, leaving Jesper to wonder how it had gone from a sunny afternoon to evening in an hour.
Though nothing seemed to provoke it, Jesper had the sudden desire to to go west. And though he had no idea which way that was, Jesper turned like the needle of a compass and walked straight down the path, narrowly dodging passersby and horse drawn carriages as he headed straight where he was expected.
Inej Ghafa waited a few moments to process the words on the paper before shredding it into pieces and watching them fall onto the beige sand beneath her feet. She gaped as she watched the pieces dissolve into grains of sand before her very eyes. She scrambled away from the pile of sand like it was a demon, almost falling over in the process, and then cursed herself for it. She was the Wraith for Saints' sake. She was the most feared pirate on the seas, hunter of slavers and wicked men. She was Inej Ghafa. And she could find a way off this hell island. Even if it meant playing some ridiculous, insane game this "Legend" had concocted.
She brushed the sand off her legs and straightened. She was strong and powerful and she would get off this island. Inej glanced out towards the sea, not allowing any fond memories of it to well up inside her, before turning the opposite direction and heading into the thick expanse of palm trees.
The forest started changing around her. What looked to be just a few rows of palms turned out to be an entire jungle of pine, maple, various fruit bearing trees, and even cherry blossom trees. Vines girdled trees they normally wouldn't be encircling. Inej reached up on her toes to pluck an apple from the emerald canopy above and rubbed it on her tunic before savoring the sweet, juicy taste of it.
Inej was grateful for the towering giants because she knew without them, the sun would be bearing down on her with all its heat. Still, the warm climate had her removing her jacket to tie around her waist and braiding her hair back to reduce sweating. She peered forward, catching small glimpses of a town ahead of her. Smiling like an idiot, Inej took off and practically flew through the trees, the magnificent flora still catching her eyes at times.
She broke free of the forest, but didn't stop her sprint until she collided into a rather curvy wall. Inej retreated into a defensive position, squaring her shoulders and raising her fists instinctively.
"Inej?" Nina Zenik's voice was full of surprise and relief.
"Oh Saints Ni—" Inej was cut off by Nina's tight embrace. She felt her feet leave the ground as Nina quite easily lifted her into one of her signature bear hugs.
"Inej! Oh thank the Saints. I haven't seen you in so long. Where have you been? Well on that ship, obviously, but—"
"Oof, Nina. Can't breathe."
"Oh right!" Nina released Inej and she felt the air fill her lungs again.
As soon as she stepped back, Inej's eyes filled with tears at the sight of her friend. She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and beamed.
"Did you get one of those letters? From 'Legend'?" Inej questioned.
"Oh yeah. And when I was done with it, it burst into actual flames."
"Mine turned into sand."
"Well I always did have more flare for the dramatic" Nina grinned. "But why us? I don't even remember coming here. One minute I was late for a Triumvirate meeting, and the next I'm here."
"All I remember is a large storm about to capsize my boat...and then darkness. Do you think any of the other Dregs are here? Or anyone from Ketterdam?"
"No clue, but I'm glad that we have each other at least. We should see if we can find a place to stay for the night."
"Probably," agreed Inej, glancing up at the darkening sky.
Hand-in-hand Inej and Nina made the trek down the path, the distant joyful music urging their feet on into the heart of Caraval.