The Survival of Crows

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The Invitation

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It was autumn. The rain was incessant, generating small rivers in the gutters. Strong, icy winds from the sea was amplifying the chill of the evening, warning of the coming winter. It was impossible to avoid getting soaked. Most people had sought refuge indoors, finding food, drink, sleep, gambling, women or similar delights to spend their coin on while waiting out the rain. But a few hardened souls still braved the weather, either out of need or spite. Kaz Brekker was in the latter category.

His crew, the Dregs, normally collected the debt he was owed, but Kaz always did some house calls himself to make sure his "clients" knew the importance of paying up. He often prioritized the newer pigeons, or the ones who were likely to try to run from their debts. It was efficient. With his reputation it was usually enough to make an appearance, sometimes combined with a threat or the revelation of one of their secrets. It usually was enough to convinced them he had the knowledge and necessary reach to take them out if he wanted to, and that there was no point in running or trying to cheat him. In some occasions violence was needed, but he never did more than what was needed to turn them around to his way of thinking. Their only option was to prioritize their debt to him, either by paying him in money, information or favours, whatever he found most useful.

After he had finished with his last "client" of the evening, he dismissed the two Dregs-members that had been accompanying him. He would normally bring Jesper on these runs. He had known Jesper for longer, and trusted his skills as a gunman and Grisha. He was a fellow crow, and in secret he considered him his oldest friend, almost similar to a younger, more annoying, brother. Knowing Jesper and his guns were at his back always gave him a heightened sense of security when dealing with danger. But today he had still opted to leave him out. If he had brought him, he would have done nothing but whine the whole time about how the rain and wind were ruining his clothes, hair and hat. Kaz hated complaining. The fact that Inej earlier had informed him that Jesper had arranged an evening out with Wylan that very same evening might also have swayed him a little, but he would never admit to it.

His work done, Kaz was slowly making his way back to the Slat. He was soaked to the skin, and the cold had seeped into his bones. The weather and strain had made his injured leg ache, and it was telling him it needed rest. He longed for the peace and quiet of his office, some dry clothes, and possibly a fire in his room to alleviate his shivers and aches. What he didn't look forward to was the several flights of stairs he would have to climb to get to his room.

He entered the building, ignoring the Dregs-members who were resting and drinking on the ground floor. He paused briefly in front of the stairwell, steeled himself, and started the climb. Others sometimes questioned why he, the cripple, decided to live at the very top of the Slat, especially when there were several more available and comfortable rooms with easier access. But Kaz never made the easy choice. Easy choices didn't build character or myth. He prided himself on seeing them shake their heads in disbelief as they time and time again saw him do something most able-bodied people would have given up on. What they didn't know was that he'd also reconstructed the attic to his office because it afforded him more privacy and quiet than any other room in the building. Another important feature was that the room was virtually impregnable without detection, and easily defendable with its one narrow entrance. The windows were high above street level, and the stairs creaky and old. Except for him, Inej was the only other person who had learned how to traverse the stairs soundlessly, although she usually entered through his window. An entrance pretty much reserved for her and her crow-friends who lived on his roof. As he trudged on, he caught himself wondering if she would be waiting for him with her evening report. He had left the window ajar for her as an invitation. On colder nights he would instead leave a light by the window, knowing she was more than capable of opening the locked window from the outside. His lips curled slightly upwards at the thought of Inej waiting for him, and it made the last few steps easier.

Once he was at the top of the landing, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Instead of the calm feeling he normally got when Inej was there, he felt his hackles rising. Something was off. All thoughts of pain and comfort forgotten, his sole focus on the possible threat. He let his senses take in the sounds, smells, and sights of the room. It was dark, and the window was still slightly ajar as he had left it. There appeared to be no people in the room, but something still felt wrong. Someone had been here. He stepped inside and switched on a small light, just enough to offer some illumination to the darkened room. His gaze narrowed on an unfamiliar item in the room; a note pinned to his desk by a sharp stiletto knife. He walked further into the room, cane raised, ready for an attack, but the room was empty. A quick scan told him nothing else had been touched. He made sure to close both window and door before returning to the knife and note. With a feeling of apprehension, he tore the letter free and opened it.

"Good evening Mr. Brekker,

I would like to extend a formal invitation to meet me at the church of Sankta Valerian this evening. I have heard several stories of you and your escapades, and would like to make your acquaintance tonight. From the intelligence I have gathered you prefer to set the terms of such meetings to benefit yourself, and that you might need a bit of persuasion to comply to my wishes of time and place. I have thus given myself a little insurance policy to secure your cooperation.

I have borrowed a little lady of yours this evening to keep me entertained while I await your attendance, the exotic and wondrous Miss Ghafa. She is quite an interesting specimen in her own right, but I hope you will join the party within the appointed timeslot so that her and I don't run out of conversation topics. If I lose interest, and she is no longer of use to me, she will soon find her place in the afterlife.

So please, come alone to the church of Sankta Valerian before the clock strikes ten, or her life is forfeit. If you don't come alone, or I see any hint of betrayal, her life will be forfeit as well. I trust you protect your investments, and that I will see you later this evening.

Best regards,
your friend
Mr. Keller."

Kaz read the note several times, his heart beating faster each time. He didn't know what to believe. It was near impossible for him to think that someone had gotten the jump on, let alone kidnapped, his Wraith. She was virtually untraceable, disappearing within the blink of an eye. It was more likely it was all a ploy to trick him into a dangerous and uncontrolled situation. He had many enemies that would love nothing more then to take him out. At the same time, if someone had taken his Wraith, she was in need of him again.

She had not told him everything that had happened at the Menagerie, but he knew enough to know that it was bad. It wasn't long after he bought her indenture that he realized that she, like him, was damaged goods, haunted by her past. He had seen her look of terror, and how she shrunk away into the shadows as people tried to flirt with her or touch her. He could relate, and he had soon started to hate that look of weakness in her eyes, needing to eradicate it. He had made it clear to everyone that she was his spider, his Wraith, and that no one were to touch her, flirt with her or even look at her, without his consent, which he never gave. The very few who dared to disobey him paid dearly for it, making sure no one would defy him again. He also made sure to provide Inej with fight training and weapons so she could protect herself if he wasn't there. People talked about him wanting her all to himself, and the evil and dirty things he used her for. He ignored the rumours. It was easy to let them believe what they wanted as long as it served to protect Inej, and to keep that look of terror off her face.

He knew that she had feared him too in the beginning, but he never blamed her for it. She had only known him through the rumours and actions of Dirtyhands, and had no way of knowing if he would use her indenture against her like Tante Heleen had done. After several missions, fight trainings and late evening planning sessions she had slowly started to trust him, realizing that he wasn't like the other people she had encountered. He respected her as a person, and valued her for her skills. He would never touch her without her consent, or use her like the Menagerie had done. He knew the importance of boundaries, and how to build alliances and trust. No matter if the letter was a lie or not, he would be damned if he was going to let anyone use or hurt his Wraith again.

He looked closer at the stiletto knife that had been used to pin the letter. With one swift, hard tug he pulled it from the desk. As he studied it a cold shiver went down his spine. Sankta Valerian was engraved on the sharp, thin knife. It was one of the earlier blades he had given Inej. It was needle sharp, easy to hide and perfect for stabbing as it would slide easily in and out of its mark, allowing her use it multiple times. It was meant as protection, but was now used as a threat. It made his blood rise. The knife was clean, no signs of blood or marks to indicate a struggle or recent use. On the hilt a few strands of dark ebony hair had been tied around it, the signal easy to read.

His mind was racing. He couldn't be sure if it was a trick, and he wasn't willing to risk Inej's life on it. He quickly checked his watch. It was already 9.05, and it took at least 10 minutes to get to the church on a good day, and he and his leg was definitively not having a good day. He was furious at himself for not discovering the situation earlier as it would have given him time to make a proper plan of attack. Now his head was spinning with a thousand thoughts, but the fear for Inej made it hard to string them together into a halfway decent plan. He decided it was better to think on the go. He slipped the knife into his inner pocket on his west, and started down the stairs, wet clothes, bone-chill and painful aches no longer of importance. He was heading for Jesper and Wylan, the only ones who valued Inej like he did, and whom he could trust with her life.

While walking in the steady downpour he let his thoughts slip to Inej once more. Even though she was free of her indenture, she still came to report to him almost every evening. Her reports contained useful information for his business, but she would also often ad little pieces of her own observations on daily life, or sometimes memories from her earlier life or stories told by her troupe around the family fire. Those were the moments of the day he enjoyed the most as he could see that sharing the stories made Inej happy. Last evening, she had launched into a story about how she had rescued a cat who had gotten stuck in a pipe. She had laughed at it, and had borrowed his washbasin to clean the soot from the pipe and cat off her hands and face. Kaz had no clue what these little titbits of daily life were meant for, but he always found pleasure in listening to her talk. He liked that she felt safe sharing her world with him, that she could let her guard down enough to laugh with him, and to turn her back on him. Not many people saw him as anything else then Kaz "Dirtyhands" Brekker. But she did. He would often find himself smiling slightly at her stories, once or twice she had even made him chuckle. In truth, he would listen to her reciting recipes if that was what made her happy.

She had taken to staying longer and longer for her reports, even started asking questions about his day and tasks. He would always share his day, in as many details as she wished. But it all sounded pretty mundane and boring to him in comparison with her rooftop adventures. But she kept on asking, and he shared what he could, only shielding her from the worst of his tasks as he knew those normally brought a frown to her otherwise smiling face. She probably knew he kept certain dark and bloody secrets from her, but she never arrested him on it. Both preferring to keep the mood on the lighter side while she visited. They would eventually say good night, and she would slip out the window she came, off to her room at Jesper and Wylan's. He would stand by the window and stare after her until she vanished among the roof tops.

He always wanted to ask her to stay a bit longer, keep him company a bit longer, but he never did. She had Jesper and Wylan, both much better company than him. Kaz figured she still came around as a kindness and a curtesy, offering a bit of company to the man who had freed her from her indenture. He had freed her, and with that offered all that he could. A person like Inej could never settle for a broken, monster like him. She needed to be surrounded by love, light and laughter, not his broken mess of person who couldn't even handle a single touch without drowning.

He had seen her earlier that morning. She had dropped by his room to let him know that Jesper and Wylan had planned an evening out dining at the Prancing Pony. On Thursday evenings the establishment usually did dining, shows and music, but also offered the possibility of light gambling. Inej had commented that it was important for a healthy relationship to spend some quality time together doing non-work-related activities. She had given him a pointed look as she said it, but he had ignored it, business always coming before pleasure in his life. The Prancing Pony wasn't his taste, but he guessed it was something for Jesper and Wylan to relax with as it had music for Wylan and a show and gambling for Jesper. Inej knew he would normally bring Jesper on his debt collecting, but that he would reconsider once he learned of Jespers plans, especially at her insistence. She had taken off as soon as her mission to save Jesper's date was done, only letting him know that she was late to meet a friend. He wished he had questioned her about her plans or who her friend was, he might have learned something that could have been useful now, but his mind had been on the business of the day, letting her slip away once more. He regretted not asking her to stay. It might have kept her out of harms way, kept her safe, with him. If whoever had her now had done anything to hurt her, they would pay dearly – nothing and no one was allowed to dull her light.