Kaz had heard many bones break during his time with the Dregs; some of them, he'd done the breaking, some of them were his own. He'd been known to relish in the satisfying crack when his cane collided with someone's skull. But standing by and watching, knowing the pain that was to come, and not being able to do anything about it—that was what made Kaz feel crazy.
Inej wrenched back in pain as the healer gave her left leg a sharp tug, snapping the bone in two. She made no sound, just squeezed her eyes shut as she pulled away from Katsya's touch. Kaz felt himself shift as she recoiled, leaning forward, some panicked instinct to move towards her when he saw the agony that lined her face. Inej's body shook with pain, convulsing in spurts with each new wave that overtook her. Nina held her down so she wouldn't move, murmuring words of comfort. " You're all right, Inej, it's almost over." These same words echoed on a loop in Kaz's mind, but could not seem to make their way to his lips. He felt utterly useless, frozen. There was nothing he could do for her, no way he could ease her pain. He'd help her more by readying the plan, putting everything into place so she wouldn't have to think about anything, just carry it out. He could be gathering provisions, scoping out enemy territory, gathering intel. He'd rather be anywhere but standing here, watching her be broken again.
Things sometimes have to break before you can move forward, his Da had told him once. Jordie had broken Kaz's favorite toy, a little cart attached to a carved wooden horse. The cart had snapped off in Jordie's hand. Kaz ran to their father, crying. Da had scooped Kaz into his arms, wiping his tears away. You can't use an egg until you crack the shell. A butterfly must break out of its cocoon to fly. Now, look at this horse. Da held up the wooden toy. He's been lugging that heavy cart around for a long time. But now…now, he can run free. Nothing's holding him back. He'd never have done that if he still had to pull the cart, would he? Kaz sniffed, staring at the horse. His father handed it to him. The toy was so much lighter in Kaz's hands. He thought of all the new ways he could play with it—make it run across the fields with him, or have a figurine ride on its back like the heroes in his books. The possibilities for new games were endless.
Breaks hurt, but they're also the beginning of something new.
Kaz had remembered this often in the weeks after Jordie died. He was shattered from the inside out, and as the pieces slowly fused together again, they formed something completely different from what he'd been before. A new kind of creature that crawled out from the harbor, no longer weak or oblivious or reliant on anyone but himself. And it was better that way. If he'd never been broken, he would have never become Dirtyhands, never run the Barrel. Would have never met Inej, or Jesper, or any of them.
That didn't mean he wanted to watch it happen to her.
But she wanted him to, it seemed.
Inej was expecting the next break. That made it worse. Inej groaned as Katsya abruptly twisted her right leg, a shudder passing through her body. Kaz's stomach lurched at the sound. He could see her clearly—the beads of sweat on her brow and her hairline, her head tilted back, staring at the high ceiling. Her skin had paled considerably, and her breaths were labored. Katsya had let go of Inej's legs, allowing the immediate pain to subside. The ache in his own leg grew, spreading up into his thigh, his hip, as if it were bleeding from her legs into his. He welcomed the pain, if it brought her relief. He knew it like an old friend. Still, it hurt to stand still like this. He needed to walk, or sit down, or lie down. He looked to her face, hoping that the sight of her lessened anguish would motivate him to stay with her a little longer. He did not expect the wetness that coated her cheeks.
She wept silently at first, tears rolling down the sides of her face and getting lost in her hair. Kaz didn't know what to do. He'd never seen Inej cry. He'd only heard her, once, the night she made her first kill. It made sense, that she was crying—she was exhausted, and she was in pain. A man had taken a mallet to her legs and left her there for two days. Rage flared within Kaz for the thousandth time that day as he imagined the moment when the mallet had made contact…the sickening crunch of the bone, the cry she would've let out. Van Eck's laugh. Kaz replayed it all in his mind, again and again, allowing fury to bubble up like hot oil. Better to stay angry. Better to be focused on the task; on revenge.
Nina noticed Inej's crying. She quickly let go of her waist, bending down to cradle Inej's head in her arms. Inej began to cry harder, sobs coming out in small gasps. She leaned into Nina's touch, and Nina held her closer, shielding her. Kaz's chest was tight, like a surge of envy had barrelled through it and left a void in its wake. To hold her like that...
No. She did not want that from him. And he didn't either—he could barely look at her now without sickness crawling its way up his esophagus. Was this some kind of punishment? Making him watch the consequences of his foolishness, his careless mistake? Did she want him to hurt, too?
Katsya worked on Inej's legs, focusing on mending them rather than on Inej's hurt. Kaz respected her attention to detail, her commitment to finishing the job. After a few minutes, Katsya stood.
"There. I've reset the bones and healed the breaks." She turned back to Inej, who was still holding onto Nina. "When you feel ready, try to sit up, and then we can try walking a little bit." There was a new tenderness to Katsya's demeanor now that the immediate concern was taken care of; it was not quite gentle, but deeply understanding. Inej nodded, sitting up slowly as Nina supported her back. Her face was still wet with tears, but she braced herself to stand. Kaz wanted to tell her to wait, that walking on a broken leg was a bad idea, but he stayed silent. He didn't know much about Grisha healing, but assumed that Inej's legs were probably in much better shape than his own by now. Perhaps he'd offer Katsya a job with the Dregs after this, if she'd done her job well.
With Nina and Katsya's assistance, Inej was on her feet, swaying slightly. Inej winced as she put her weight on each leg, but did not seem to be in too much pain. Kaz held his breath, watching the resolution with which Inej moved, testing the waters. Katsya stood back to observe, and Inej took a tentative step forward, holding onto Nina's arm for support. Then another, and another.
"How does everything feel?" asked Katsya. "Any pain?"
"A little," Inej murmured, shifting her weight from her back leg onto her front.
"That's to be expected."
"How long will I be this unsteady?" Kaz detected worry in her voice. He'd been concerned, too, when he broke his leg three years ago. Questions of how to keep his reputation, his status, let alone survive in the Barrel had barraged his mind. But Inej was not alone like he'd been. She shouldn't have to worry about that.
"Should only be a few days, maybe a week, to get back to normal. But you should be up and walking on your own by tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Kaz had expected the recovery to take longer. His mind immediately went to the plan, rearranging every factor that hinged on Inej's abilities. A week for most people meant two or three days for her, which meant that everything could progress much faster than anticipated. He could take down Van Eck within the week.
Kaz looked to her only to see that she was staring back at him. The fire that burned in her eyes matched the one that lived inside of him, and he knew that they were thinking the same thing:
They could take down Van Eck within the week.
Inej turned back to Katsya, nodding in acknowledgment. "Thank you," she said earnestly. "I owe you my life."
Katsya smoothed out her uniform, gearing up to leave.
"It's not so bad as that. I've seen much worse." Something in Inej's expression shifted, but she just nodded again. Kaz suspected that Inej had also seen much worse during her time at the Menagerie, but that didn't negate the impact that this injury would have had on her life. Her legs—her abilities—were her agency, her independence. They were what would eventually take her to freedom. As much as it pained Kaz to imagine her leaving, he also knew that it was not only inevitable, but essential. It was why they needed this money so badly. It would give all of them a way out—Jesper could pay his debts, Wylan could leave the criminal lifestyle behind him, Nina and Matthias could go somewhere where no one would care that they were Grisha and Druskelle. And Kaz…Kaz would be the richest man in the Barrel, and would finally be able to decimate Pekka Rollins.
That was what he wanted, wasn't it?
"Thank you, Katsya," Nina said as she helped Inej back into a sitting position on the pile of linen. "How can we repay you?"
Katsya looked at Kaz. "It's been handled," she replied plainly. She took her leave, her footsteps retreating down the metal stairs.
He felt both Nina and Inej's eyes on him, waiting for some kind of explanation, but he said nothing. The others didn't need to know what he'd promised the healer, especially not Inej. Kaz had already mentally deducted Katsya's pay from his haul of four million kruge . It was a fair rate. For this, for her, he'd have paid almost anything the healer asked.
"We've got about two hours until the sun sets," he said, breaking the silence. "You should try to rest more before we head to Black Veil. Nina will stay with you."
Inej bristled, but Nina was the first to speak. "And where exactly do you need to go right now? Do you have somewhere better to be?"
Did he? Yes, of course he did. He had a million parts to piece together before tomorrow.
"Business to attend to. The world doesn't stop just because one of us is injured." Once again, Inej's stern gaze bore into him. He could not bring himself to meet it. "We are wanted by both the Stadwatch and Van Eck's estate, if you'd forgotten." Ignoring the look Nina gave him, Kaz brushed past them and headed towards the door, grabbing his coat from where it lay beside Inej. The whoosh of the fabric as he pulled it onto his shoulders was his goodbye, and he headed down the stairs.