The thief, the spy, the grisha heartrender, the sharpshooter, and the runaway walked through the courtyard behind the Serpiente House, the sky dark as storm clouds rolled in, thunder booming in the distance, reflecting the unease that had been coiling in their stomachs since they'd seen Legend's second clue. They were five crows, Nina thought, even as hurt struck deep at the thought of there being only five of them and not six. They may not all be active in the gang anymore, but they had all survived and they had kept surviving, having each other's backs no matter what. They never stopped fighting. We are crows.

None of them knew who this Nigel was or what he'd want from them, but the moment Nina had read his name on the slip of paper, dread had filled her from head to toe, and she'd had to eat three full waffles to mostly shake off the feeling.

The courtyard was filled with multiple empty tents, all of them looking brand new and ready for business. She glanced at the others' faces, searching for any sign of the unease that was plaguing her. All of them had masked their faces into stone, only showing their determinedness. Nina schooled her own features into nothing but solid strength.

Kaz stopped in front of them, gesturing forward to a solid black tent, the only one that was tattered and worn. "I think that one's his." The tent in question had a sign hanging from it reading Fortune-Telling.

"Are we all going in?" Wylan looked around, asking not so he could skip the experience, but so that he could determine if any of them felt uncomfortable with going in.

His question was met with nods all around.

Kaz opened the flap of the tent with the crow head of his cane and immediately Nina could smell the ice and snow of Fjerda. She could smell him. His ice blue eyes flashed once in her mind and her heart ached at the longing.

Everyone else had stiffened as well, and Nina wondered what each of them had felt when the tent was opened. Nina nudged Inej, trying to distract her from whatever had caused the stricken look on her face. It was Kaz who recovered first, masking his face into a cold blank stare and taking the first step inside. She wondered what Kaz had seen most of all.

Inej could smell home again. The smell of the wide countryside and open plains where her family roamed, having shows every night and eating skillet bread by a fire, laughing at the stories her father would tell them. She could see her cousins and relatives at the circus. She could see The ribbons her cousins twirled. She could see the smiles on all their faces, and the shock when they'd seen her perform for the first time. She'd gone back to Ravka for some time when she had first gotten her ship. She'd rekindled her old friendships, met with forgotten relatives, and settled back as well as she could. But she'd left when she realized that it would never be the same again. She'd been gone so long, done so much. She was almost a stranger to her family. They'd welcomed her back with open arms, but she knew that her past self was gone and that she could never again be that fourteen year old girl whose worst experiences were having a bad hair day or hurting herself on the wire.

Inej felt a nudge against her and, immediately knowing it was Nina, breathed out. She cast a look inside the open flap of the tent as Kaz Brekker walked inside, following him into the dark.

Jesper was with his mother again. Aditi Hilli's sweet laugh filled his ears. Jesper was back at home, a child again with his father and mother. The days of the past they had spent in the fields farming jurda were the days of his present again. The smell of jurda wafted all around him and his mother's smile filled his sight as she tucked him into bed, singing her a song and whispering to him all the while. He could see his father and mother dancing to a song in their heads in the living room of their house as he watched them, sipping juice on the stairs. His mother pulled him into the dance as well and soon they were all sweaty and out of breath, but still content.

A hand gripped his and Jesper could feel the soothing but firm hand of his fiancé pulling him back from the memories threatening to swallow him up in longing. He grasped Wylan's hand back just as tight in thanks. The fingers on his other hand were tapping against his leg and he felt like he'd leap out of his skin, but Wylan's grasp kept him grounded, clearing the fog from his head.

Jesper bent down a little to lightly kiss Wylan's forehead before following Inej and Kaz beyond the openings of the tent.

Wylan smiled slightly as Jesper's lips touched his forehead. He didn't know what Jes had seen, but based on his own flashbacks, Wylan could guess well enough. He'd seen his mother at the easel, brow furrowed in concentration as she made sweeping strokes across the colorful canvas. He remembered posing for her in the most ridiculous stances just to get her to break her from her close attention and laugh at him, get up from her stool and swing him into a hug. When she'd finish a piece she'd leave it to dry and go into the kitchen to make some sort of snack. She was always finding new recipes to try out on him, sometimes it would be rainbow cookies, or different flavors of soft cream frozen to perfection. She'd shoo out the maid, insisting that she rest for some time while she took care of things. Then she'd pick Wylan up and plop him on the counter, giving him spoons of batter or dough to try while she was working. They'd try out the food together in the garden, sipping tea and taking in the sun. Afterwards, they'd tiptoe to Jan Van Eck's office, which always seemed to be closed, and leave a plate of whatever they'd made outside the door, whispering in hushed tones and giggling all the while.

The Marya Hendriks Wylan had known as a child was gone now, the sweetness and vibrant joy of her personality dulled by the time she'd spent at the asylum. He'd give anything to have her back to her old self, but it was a slow process. She'd opened up more and given him smiles, humming to herself as she painted from her rocking chair. But she'd never truly be the same again. And the knowledge that her state was because of his father angered him, as well as how the knowledge that it never would have happened had he been able to read haunted him, stirring guilt and regret in his stomach. Despite the assurances that Jesper had given him, that he wasn't at blame, that he was perfect the way he was, he couldn't stop the voice that always told him, you aren't good enough, and it's your fault you mother is like this.

Wylan wiped away the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek and swallowed the lump in his throat as Jesper's loving presence led him into the tent.

Their faces surrounded him. Jordie, his mother, and his father stood out among the ghosts of all the people Kaz Brekker had killed. But Kaz didn't feel remorse for the lives he'd taken. They hadn't been innocent people. He ignored the hundreds of eyes staring at him, their gazes so searing that if Kaz had any shame, he probably would have been burned.

The ghosts didn't say anything. Their eyes said enough. He could see the disgust in his father's face, ashamed to have a son whose hands were so thoroughly and permanently soaked in blood. His mother's eyes were sad, but not accusing, as if she believed he'd simply made a few mistakes. Kaz nearly laughed, none of his deeds were mistakes, it they were, maybe he'd feel sorry.

It was Jordie who finally broke the silence. "The weight of your sins is heavy, why not accept fate and come home to us?"

"Home?" Kaz asked, his words barbed even though he hadn't meant to be harsh. "You torment me after dying from your own idiocy and then you want me to come home?"

"I know you're angry, Kaz."

"Angry?" Kaz finally laughed then. "Everything I've done since you left me has been for you. I destroyed Pekka Rollins for what he did. I'm not going home. There's no home for men like me. There's only hell. And I don't plan on going there anytime soon."

Jordie's young face only portrayed sadness. "I'm sorry I made you this way."

No. Jordie didn't get to look at him with such pity and make empty apologies. Kaz shook his head. "Don't lie. You aren't sorry for leaving me. You're sorry you were to dumb to realize you were being conned. You're sorry you died so young. But you aren't sorry for what I've done, because I got you revenge."

"When are you finally going to forgive me? When will it finally be enough for you?" Jordie looked hurt and Kaz ignored the pang in his chest.

"Do you want my forgiveness, Jordie? Or do you want the guilt off your chest? What do you think my forgiveness looks like?" The words he'd hurled at Jesper were now being used against the person they were meant for. But even as Kaz spit them out, nothing in him loosened, instead he felt worse.

Jordie said no more, shaking his head and closing his eyes. He looked like he did when he'd been a corpse floating in the Reaper's Barge. The sickly sensation of his skin filled Kaz as the image shattered and he was back in front of the dark inside of the tent. Kaz looked behind him, seeing the gang all trapped in some sort of daze. Inej's closed eyes and wistful face struck him. He wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, touch her. He want to...

Kaz turned back around as Nina broke from her trance, masked his face into pure stone, and walked inside to Nigel, the prophet.