Kinker had been up most of the night contemplating how to break Mr. Brekker. It would be harder now that he had released the dark-skinned girl. He partially regretted it, but he had wished to have the pleasure of breaking the boy on his own, not by using others.

According to the rumours the boy cared about no one and nothing except winning and power, and he would walk over corpses to get to it. At least the last part looked to be true with the trail of dead bodies Brekker had left in his wake, including the thugs hired to take him out. Kinker had to admit to himself that he had sorely underestimated the boy, believing he was all smarts, and no fight in his crippled state.

The boy's fighting prowess had startled him. He had expected the crippled Brekker to go down easily, but it had all been an act to lure the attackers in, allowing counterattacks with deadly force. The boy had shown that he could be ruthless, and that he was more then willing to kill if it meant getting closer to the goal. At the same time he had been surprised to observe that the boy's flare for compassion that he had showed at a younger age, still burned strong in him. He had expected the Barrel to have beaten it out of him, but Brekker appeared to be stronger and more complex than he first thought.

On the other hand, he hadn't seen much of the boy's famous smarts except for the fighting. Brekker had willingly walked into a trap, sacrificed himself for the Suli girl and failed basic logic by letting himself get injured instead of answering simple questions. If this was all there was to the great Kaz Brekker there wasn't much for him to find. Either the stories and rumours of Brekker's exploits had been greatly exaggerated, or the boy was good at hiding his true self. He suspected the latter.

As a young boy Brekker had impressed him with his keen observation and quick thinking. He had wanted to make the boy his apprentice when he saw the boy's ingenuity, and how well the boy handled the nastier parts of the job. He had looked forward to sharing his passion for experimenting and examinations with someone of a similar mind and disposition, but the boy's compassion for poor, dirty, unimportant people had made him doubt the boy's character and conviction. He had wanted to study the boy, find out what made his brain tick, to see if the compassion could be extracted, and if he could learn to be a perfect servant and companion.

Instead the young boy had robbed him of that chance, and also his name, money and life. He had been forced to flee. He was penniless after using all his money to bribe his way out of Kerch, and his name, title and reputation was in tatters, no longer usable. Brekker had only left him with a mutilated face that no one could love or trust, making it impossible to start his practice anew under a new name. He had been forced to live in horrid conditions, barely scraping enough together to survive, his health suffering badly. During those hard years his hatred for the boy who had bested him had grown, making him vow to one day return to finish his study.

Carol King became his saviour. She was a big name in Ravka, and she could make all kinds of different medicine and concoctions. People travelled far and wide to get her remedies, and her prices were high. What the customers didn't know was that it took a lot of trial and error to get the remedies correct. And just like him, the poor people who no one would miss were her guinea pigs.

He had snuffed out her secret, and seeing a likeminded person who could be an asset to him, he had confronted her with it. She was angry at first, but once he had admitted his admiration and his own inclinations, she realised she had found a kindred spirit in him, and a beautiful partnership they would both benefit from began.

She would get the patients into the clinic, and he would make sure they stayed there. She would examine their physical reactions to her drugs, while he would examine their mental reactions. In the end he would examine their bodies and most importantly, their brains, before disposing of them in the same manner he had learnt from studying Brekker.

She had provided for him, healed him, hid him and even paid for operations and tailoring for his face, changing him according to her preferences, and removing all traces of his past. He didn't mind what he looked like as long as he once again had a handsome and trusting face that could be used to entice people to him.

But despite it all, he had never managed to forget about Kaz Brekker. The young, but clever boy who schemed up intricate plans on the spot, as if it was nothing. The boy who paled at seeing death, yet endured it time and time again. The boy who was hard as stone, yet showed mercy when he shouldn't. The boy who inflicted violence without blinking, yet hesitated with death. The boy who in the end chased him out of land and home. And later the man who would become the king of the Barrel, his heists and exploits legendary. When he learned the boy who had betrayed him was still alive, he knew he had to return.

As Carol was the money and figure head of their operation he needed to convince to go after Brekker. He had told her that Ketterdam was a waypoint, and home to all kinds of souls, beliefs and races. Lots of variety and excitement to explore, and most importantly, few cared about other people's business, including the authority, as long as it didn't affect commerce. The city held plenty of nameless, poor people to study and use, as well as rich and affluent people to sell their services to. Once they had taken out the bastard of the Barrel, the new king, the city would be ripe for their takeover, and that she could become the Queen of Ketterdam.

He had also told her a modified version of his past, only telling her what she would want to hear. He had conveniently left out some of his recklessness of the past, especially regarding the death of former colleagues and high society people, knowing that may sway her against coming to Ketterdam. He had proclaimed that Brekker had framed him, lied and inflicted scars upon him in order to steal his home, business and money, and that the boy was the sole reason for his downfall. He had convinced her he still got nightmares about him, and that beating him and making him their slave would be the only way to overcome his past, and for him to be truly happy. It had taken some grovelling, but his Carol had eventually agreed for them to travel to Kerch.

Being back in the streets of Ketterdam gave him the feeling of home. His brain and hands where already itching to study the minds of its inhabitants. Despite a few setbacks with loosing his crew, the plan had mainly gone according to plan. Kaz Brekker was his. The only thing left was breaking the kid.

His subjects usually broke easily when he applied threats, pain and torture, but Brekker didn't respond well to his regular methods as they only seemed to make the boy resist him more. To make the process easier he had asked his Carol to make a concoction that would make Brekker more pliable and willing to talk.

The original plan had been to move Brekker to their mansion where they could study and indoctrinate Brekker more comfortable, but as long as Brekker kept fighting and killing, he was forced to work on Brekker in this horrid place.

He had sent his Carol with the latest thugs that he had hired to deliver her "medicine". He had expected her to return to their mansion once she was finished, but he figured she might have stayed to observe the effects on the boy as it had been a new mixture that she was eager to try out.

After a long carriage ride, he reached the building. At this early hour the street was buzzing with noise and people. He walked the few steps to the building, and knocked on the door with the crow's head cane. He had inspected the cane once more during the night, marvelling at the elaborate construction, every detail made to intimidate and maim, like Mr. Brekker earlier had demonstrated all too well. He would keep the cane as a trophy, letting the people in the city know that he had outsmarted and bested Dirtyhands, and that he himself was the new king.

One of the new thugs opened the door for him. Something about him looked a bit off, but his focus was distracted by the other man spilling his drink on the table.

His face scrunched up in disgust. He hated working with low standing citizens like these, as their manners where wile and disgusting, but he hadn't exactly been spoiled for choice as almost none had been willing to take the job. Apparently Brekker was too scary to go up against, especially when they believed that Brekker was too smart to be bested by an old man like him. He would show them how wrong they all were, and they would soon be jumping through hoops for him. Concentrating once again at the task at hand he turned to the thug by the door. "Where is Gergel?"

"He's upstairs sleeping after taking the first watch," The man answered, clearly not as inebriated as his friend.

"And where is my darling Ms. King? Downstairs, I presume?"

"Nah, she went upstairs just a minute ago. I suppose she wanted to refresh herself or something similarly ladylike. I don't really know too much about women," the man offered while scratching his head, uncomfortable talking about women.

Kinker raised an eyebrow at that. "And how about Mr. Brekker?"

"He's still hanging on if you get me" The inebriated man at the table joked, laughing heartily at his own perceived wit, his words slurred.

"You don't say…" Kinker sighed. "You go wake Gergel, and tell Miss King that her presence is needed in the cellar," he told the man at the table. "And you" he said while pointing to the man by the door, "open the hatch, and lead the way to the prisoner. I think it's time we start today's session."

The men slowly moved according to his orders. The inebriated man stumbled a bit, a glazed look in his eyes, making Kinker wonder if he would pass out before finishing his task. Kinker felt there was something off, but mostly the fact that his Carol wasn't there to greet him. He needed to see Brekker, needing to make sure his plan was still intact.

He followed the man down he stairs, scanning the room, eyes landing on Brekker. He was hanging unconscious from the shackles. On the floor next to him was Carol's white box of syringes and the chair. She must have injected him, and stayed to observe him, but an unconscious patient wasn't very interesting to observe, so that would explain her absence and want to freshen up before his arrival.

He inched closer to the boy, looking for any signs that he was awake. Brekker's breath was shallow, and body lax. If he was faking, he was a damn good actor. "You, what's your name?" he said to the thug.

"Umberto, sir"

"Fine, Mr. Umberto, give him a forceful waking, preferably with a hard punch to the stomach. That should give him a proper jolt before our next session," Kinker ordered, looking forward to the pain and shock it would induce.

Inej was watching from the shadows. She longed to send her knife flying into the back of Kinker's head, silencing him, but she held her position. Kaz had said that he needed information from Kinker, and that could only be gleamed from the living. She had tried to fight him on it, claiming he was in no shape to take on Kinker, but as usual, Kaz had refused to listen to anyone but himself. She had been tempted to knock him out, and get Jesper to carry him home, but Kaz's prediction that Kinker would keep coming after them had stilled her hand. They needed to take Kinker out, both for their own safety, and for the people of Ketterdam.

To everyone else Kaz looked dead to the world, but she could see the small tells that showed he was listening and preparing for the blow. She could also see that Umberto was scared. Attacking the boss was normally a death sentence, but Kaz had given them the go ahead to do whatever was needed to make the scene believable. As the blow came, she could she that Kaz tightened his muscles, and how he curved with the punch to soften the blow. The punch was still hard enough to send him swaying in his chains, leaving him coughing as he fought for air.

"Ah, there you are my boy. I hope you are in a better sharing mood today?" Kinker asked with delight.

When Kaz had his breathing under control, he let his feet touch the ground, once more finding his balance and taking his weight off his shoulders and arms. He needed to get Kinker to talk, and fast, so he had decided on a more aggressive approach this time. He met Kinker's face, and fired back "Why are you doing this?"

Kinker had expecting the same sullen silence Brekker had had in their earlier talks, and was surprised by Brekker's intense outburst.

"I trust you've figured out who I am by now despite my new and improved looks, or I might have mistaken your intelligence," Kinker replied with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, you're that monster who used to prey on the desperate people in Ketterdam many years ago. The monster I should have killed back then. I can guarantee you I won't make that mistake again," Kaz growled, letting his hatred for the man show.

"Ah, finally, a spark of intelligence in that brain of yours! I was afraid all this Barrel business had turned you into nothing but a brute, but you still make plans in that brain of yours constantly, don't you? How many plans to escape have you made during the night, and do you really think any of them have the slightest chance of success?" Kinker said mockingly.

Kaz sent Kinker a chilling grin. "I do indeed have a plan, and it will end in your death before the day is over – and that's a promise," Kaz said with certainty.

Kinker couldn't help but shiver at the hatred and conviction that came off Brekker. He tried to shake it off. "But you are chained up, drugged and alone, while I have several men with me. By the saints, how do you expect to beat me?"

"Simple, by outsmarting you," Kaz stated as if it was obvious.

Kinker was getting annoyed at Brekker's boldness and insinuations. "Preposterous! You are just taunting me, wanting me to get up close to you so that you can try to fight me. That is not going to happen, but I might let Mr. Umberto have another go at you if you don't settle down. I had hoped the drug had already made you more docile and easier to control, but at least it has made you more talkative. I guess it is a start."

Kaz saw an opening, and continued his verbal attack. "Yeah, your friend in white, Miss King, was great. We really hit it off, talked for hours and swapped stories in private after she sent away your goons. She soon realised I could be useful to her, and a big upgrade from your tired, old bones in more ways than one. I mean, my mind knows some tricks, and you know what they say, nothing can beat the stamina of the young. She just needed to make sure I could deliver on my promise to outthink you, and then you are out of the picture," Kaz said with a sneer, attacking Kinker's pride.

"You are trying my patience boy! Carol and I are partners, and she would never betray me, especially for some Barrel-scum like yourself!" Kinker said, taking offence at Kaz's words.

Despite the words, Kaz noticed the waver in Kinker's voice, his nervousness and insecurity slowly taking over. The plan was working, now he just needed to get Kinker to reveal more about King's medicine.

"Partners? Really? You're her pet, easily replaceable if something shinier comes along. You might want to try to use that so-called intelligence of yours to think. Tell me, why didn't she return to you the previous night? And why would she leave just as you were scheduled to arrive?" Kaz asked.

"She wanted to see her medicines effect, and after a long night she probably just needed a break. She'll surely be down soon," Kinker reasoned, not liking where Brekker was taking their conversation.

Kaz gave a short bark of laughter. "You keep telling yourself that. Oh, and also, did you see all your guards up there, or were some of them conveniently missing, or perhaps unsteady? I would suggest you check the contents of King's little white case."

Kinker nodded to Umberto, and pointed at the box. Umberto opened it and revealed its contents. It was empty.

"As you can see, three syringes missing, and now there are two missing guards, conveniently located on the very same floor as Miss King. Why don't you send Umberto up to check on them, and we'll soon have three missing guards to match the three missing syringes," Kaz said suggestively.

"No, the syringes were meant for you," Kinker protested, fear starting to build up in him.

"You really aren't as sharp as you claim to be," Kaz said while shaking his head, a condescending smile on his face. "If King had used all three of the syringes on me, why are they not here? There is no reason for King to hide them, and it's not like I can hide them," he said while showing of his shacked wrists. "Also, if all three were used, wouldn't you expect them to have taken effect by now? I mean, as you can see, I'm still quite present, no dizziness, sluggishness, pain or other similar symptoms. Do tell me, what was in the medicine?" Kaz asked, challenging Kinker.

Kinker had gone from confused to scared, mind spinning. "I don't really know, she never tells me, just writes it all down in her secret little green diary."

Kaz laughed again. "She doesn't trust you to share her invaluable potion secrets, keeping you at a distance in case she decides to leave you, making sure you can't steal her work. Now that is too precious! How you can still believe yourself her equal is beyond me," Kaz mocked, enjoying the confusion and fear he was seeing on Kinker.

He continued. "Her and I had a long and interesting chat about what sort of herbs and mixes that could be useful in different types of potions. I am guessing you lack that type of knowledge, and that its one of the many reasons she finds my mind more enjoyable than yours. Did she even share what sort of effects the drugs were meant to induce, or did she keep that secret too?" Kaz pushed, hoping to get more information.

Kinker was getting more and more alarmed, and he was close to babbling, not thinking about what he was saying. "Of course she told me! It was meant to make you dizzy, compliant, and remove your built-in inhibitions, similar to how alcohol makes one more loose-lipped, just faster and stronger. It was supposed to make you sluggish and susceptible to my commands and suggestions, easy to transport and control. Since my own tactics wasn't working on you, this was supposed to loosen your tongue, making you the pliable patient we wanted, like my normal patients."

With annoyance Kaz realized there was nothing more to get from Kinker on the drug, but the address to that green book would get Wylan the answers they needed. He pressed on with his plan.

"Yet, none of that seem to be happening to me. Can't say the same for Umberto's friends though. The latest one will probably find his way to a bed very soon, and never wake again, thanks to Miss King," Kaz mocked.

"No, it can't be…" Kinker said, thinking back to the other thug he had seen when he arrived, how inebriated and uncoordinated he had been, but still happily taking orders. Could it have been the effects of the drug?

He looked at Umberto, seeking reassurance. "This is all lies, right? None of this can be true?"

Umberto scratched his head, and scrunched his face up, as if thinking was hard work. "I think Filbert and Gergel mentioned something about how the nice lady had given them some good medicine that would help them sleep, and remove any aches and pain they had. I didn't want any as I don't like needles. She stayed down here with the prisoner for a while after they left. I asked if she wanted me to stay with her to keep watch, but she dismissed me, saying she was fine on her own. I checked in a couple of times, but all seemed fine as she and the prisoner were just conversing, no fighting or loud noises, so I left them too it."

Kinker's eyes widened at the implications. Small beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead. "No, this can't be happening. My Carol would never betray me. Not after all we've been through," he said while holding his head in his hands, his whole body starting to tremble slightly.

Kaz smile grew bigger. "A younger, brighter mind and body, with power and wealth, always wins over an old washed up has-been with nothing to his name. I think what clinched it for her was my retelling of our earlier rendezvous. Apparently, you had left a few pieces out of it." Kaz had no way of knowing if it was true, but he believed Kinker's ego would be too big to let on how he had lost to a scrawny kid.

"No, you wouldn't…" Kinker said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Kaz knew he was onto something, and continued. "I would indeed, if it suited my plan, and it did. Joining together with her would give me access to a whole new arsenal, and a reach outside of Ketterdam. And it would also suit me well in my current situation," he said while once more shacking his shackles.

"In accordance with my plan, she has sent for the stadwatch. When they get here, she will show them me, and then your little secret dumping room where we both know they will find plenty of dead people. The words of a respected lady like herself combined with this, will easily outweigh any protest you can manage, especially once she reveals your true identity. There is no way for you to bribe your way out this time as you are still penniless as she controls the money. So how about you tell me the address to your mansion so I can take over when you're gone. It is not like you need it anymore," Kaz pushed.

Kinker had started to walk in circles, desperation coming off him. "No, no, no, this can't be. This was to be my big return and triumph. You were supposed to be my pet, locked in our basement at the mansion till you were ready to serve as our slave, doing all the dirty work for us, taking all the risks. But you… you tricked me, stole and used my Carol against me, betrayed me and fooled me. I won't let this happen, not again… I'll…. I'll…" Kinker rambled.

Kaz interrupted him. "You lose again, beaten by yours truly once more. Poor little helpless Damian Kinker who didn't realize he was the pet before now. A pet who can't even handle half a decent plan even if it landed in his lap. As for Miss King and I, we have a rendezvous scheduled in your mansion as soon as this is over. Apparently, she lusts for something fresh and wild, so again, the address to her soft bed?" Kaz leered at Kinker.

Kaz had grown impatient, feeling his strength fading he had pressed too hard, too fast. Kinker broke.

Kinker's face scrunched up in anger, and he launched himself at Kaz. He let the beak of the crow on Kaz's cane press into the side of Kaz's neck. "Give me one good reason that I shouldn't just tear your throat out this very instant!" He yelled at Kaz, face just inches apart.

A quick look from Kaz stilled Inej's knife just before it left her hand. He still needed to learn the address before he could finish him, and a new plan formed.

He leaned his head towards Kinker, and whispered into his ear; "because I lied".

Kinker paused at that, drawing his head back to look at Kaz, unsure of what he meant.

Kaz seized Kinker's pause to his advantage, sweeping Kinker's legs away from him, while simultaneously letting his chains wrap around Kinker's neck, closing off his airways.

Kinker struggled briefly, but his old physique and stamina soon flagged, and he slipped into unconsciousness.