★ °  CHAPTER THREE !
────────     THE CROW CLUB

* zvezdochka(s) = little star(s) (Ravkan)

THE CROW CLUB WAS UNLIKE ANYTHING ELSE IN THE EAST STAVE. Adrijana supposed it was much like where the Zvezda sat in the West Stave, a bright light in a sea of dreary grey. Like a soot stain against a curtain, the Crow Club was the opposite.

Unlike the rest of the gambling halls surrounding the district, it didn't have bright, flashy colours associated with it; instead, it consisted of a simple black, red, and silver scheme. The absence of colour should have left most unhappy and unwilling to spend their money until the morning, but the Crow Club thrived.

Adrijana quite liked it. She'd only ever been outside, watching the oxidised silver crow sign swing above the entrance. Now that she was inside, glancing at the card tables draped in crimson cloth decorated with a trim of black crows, she knew why people stayed. It was different, and if she'd learned anything from her time in Ketterdam, people liked different.

"I know you."

She jumped and turned around at the sound of a voice behind her, only to come face-to-face with Jesper. He had a bit of a lopsided smirk on his face, one hand resting on his holster as though he couldn't ever dare to part with it. There was better lighting here than there had been the night she ran away from him, and he was much younger than she'd originally given him credit for.

"I'm just glad you're real. Rotty owes me fifty kruge. He thought for sure I was making it up at first."

Adrijana stifled any anxiety that might try and show on her face. She didn't want to give Jesper the benefit of the doubt and let him know that she was actually afraid he might have seen her.

"Well, I'm here," she said, letting her arms fall down to her sides. "Would anyone care to explain why?"

Jesper started to speak, likely getting ready to tell Adrijana exactly why she was there, but he stopped himself. It wasn't a conversation to be had on the floor of the Club where anyone could hear. She knew why she was there.

He gestured out to a door behind the bar with his hand. "Right this way."

Even as he guided her to the door, he never let Adrijana stray too far. He had a fear she might suddenly wear another face and disappear amongst the pigeons in the club. He never kept himself only a step ahead of her, opting to walk at her side and escorted her to the back.

She felt like Jesper could sense her nerves. Realistically, she knew nothing was going to happen to her; no one could hurt one of Madame Goranka's Grisha and get away with it. But she'd heard about Kaz Brekker.

He'd only been active in Ketterdam for a few years, but even then he'd made a name for himself. Madame Goranka told her girls to look the other way if they were to come across him and claimed the young man was looking for trouble. The rumour was that he was as ruthless as he was cruel, and every violent act was carefully meticulated before his men carried them out.

Thinking about him made her stomach churn. By the time the Tailor left, Mirre still hadn't returned to the Zvezda. What could he have done with the Heartrender?

When they reached a small, spiralled iron staircase, Jesper's arm reached out across her chest and stopped her from walking any further. "Wait right here."

Heavy feet creaked up the stairs. His knuckles rapped against the wooden door, and he even disappeared behind it for a moment. Adrijana had half the mind to run away—to go back to the Zvezda and tell Madame Goranka that she wasn't going to subject herself to whatever game Kaz Brekker wanted her to play. But she felt eyes on her, and when she turned her head up, she couldn't find anything.

He has a little bird. A ghost. She remembered telling Madame Goranka about the woman who frequented the gangster's side. She didn't know the woman's name, only her reputation, and she knew that she gathered information for her boss. It was likely that's who lurked in the rafters, waiting for the Grisha to try and escape the trapped nest.

Jesper reappeared seconds later, holding the door open and beckoning her up the stairs.

"After you."

Adrijana gathered whatever confidence she had left and headed up the stairs. She expected Jesper to follow her in the room, but instead, the door was shut and latched behind her.

It was clearly an office tucked away from the rest of the Club, and she got the feeling that no one wanted to be summoned there. Oil paintings hung all around the walls, all from different artists. Across from her were a series of archways, one covered in a curtain that let Adrijana know it was an area for more intimate use. File cabinets lined the entire front room, likely all filled with business ledgers and signed contracts, and there was a desk to the left, black and chipped from years of use, and a painting hung above it—a DeKappel that she recognised from a mercher's pleadings to find his lost painting, having told others what it looked like in hopes they might find who stole it.

A man stood at the desk, a golden crows-head cane leaning next to him. He wouldn't look her in the face, busying himself with the neatly-stacked papers to his left.

Kaz Brekker was different than any conman she'd ever seen. From how he was preached about on the streets like some kind of boogeyman, you would have thought he was as old as Pekka Rollins. Instead, he couldn't have been any older than the Grisha. He was lean, and though she'd seen him in the Barrel before, now, without his brimmed hat, she could see the sharp cut of his jaw and the curve of his narrow face.

"Have you decided to show your real face, or are you still hiding behind another one of your masks?"

The anxiety, sharp and hot, dripped from her veins. From what she'd been told, Kaz Brekker had plenty of cards up his sleeve that helped him know things in Ketterdam. But Adrijana was sure that up until now, not even his little, obedient ghost had would have been able to figure her out. No one saw her enter or leave the Zvezda in the same disguise, and no one, not even Madame Goranka, knew how many faces she had worn. So how had he?

Kaz took her silence as permission to continue, and the little gasp that had left her lips as confirmation that in front of him was, indeed, the real face of the Grisha.

"I always wondered how your boss got her information. I knew she was using one of her Grisha, but I have to admit, having an informant who can change their appearance at the drop of a hat was not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" She asked, finally finding her voice. It came out quieter than she wanted it to be.

"Not someone like you."

He stopped filtering through his papers, finally pulling out a few pieces with scribbled notes across it. It couldn't have been more than two or three pages, and he set them in the centre of his desk.

"I thought Tailors needed materials to do their work."

"Clearly, you've never met a Tailor."

Kaz looked up from the desk, his knuckles tightening against the edges of the table. Jesper hadn't done a very good job of giving him a decent description of the Grisha, and his little ghost, Inej, wasn't around to watch her arrive at the Crow Club.

Whatever Kaz had been expecting, it wasn't the woman in his office. He thought she'd come in with another disguise to catch him off guard. Inej had never been able to give him detailed descriptions of the Grisha inside the Zvezda because they hardly left the house, and going inside would've raised Madame Goranka's suspicions about the gangster (though he was sure she knew he was keeping tabs on the house's activities).

The Tailor had Suli features, but the way she spoke let him know she was clearly an educated Ravkan. He expected her to be like other women from pleasure houses—out of touch with her homeland and dressed in some gaudy outfit. Instead, the dress hugging her blended in seamlessly with the rest of the Crow Club, sleek and black, and she held herself with a sense of poise and confidence he hadn't seen in others. Her shoulders were back, and her chin was tilted up, candlelight burning in her violet eyes.

This time, she used his silence as a chance to continue.

"If you'd done your research, you'd know that Tailors only need materials to change the colours of something."

"Tailors are rare. The only evidence anyone has belongs to the Queen of Ravka."

"Perhaps, you should've looked at her account then. I'm sure you could've found something more than bleeding a few grapes of their colour."

The tension was palpable and thick enough to be cut with a knife. Any awe that Kaz had about the Tailor's appearance bled out, replaced with annoyance at her answers. Her boldness was another unexpected trait, though he should have suspected as such considering her relationship to Madame Goranka.

"Where's Mirre?" Adrijana asked.

"Safe." Kaz answered.

"She'd be safer at home."

"Where Pekka Rollins has men waiting for you to return with your Heartrender so he can take her for himself?"

"We know. We're more than capable of protecting ourselves against Pekka and his men."

Kaz knew Grisha were powerful. The Tidemakers that ran the Council of Tides in Ketterdam were powerful enough to destroy the Stadhall with a tidal wave after a vote didn't end in their favour. He was aware of the Zvezda's Grisha, but he didn't know how experienced they were, and he'd seen the wrath of Pekka Rollins before.

"I'll have her escorted back to the Zvezda in the morning. First light."

It looked like it pained him to gesture at one of the chairs across from the table, like the act itself was admitting defeat. Adrijana was barely able to mask the small, victorious smile on her lips as she grabbed the arm of the chair and pulled it away from the corner of the desk to sit down.

"What do you know?" He asked, finally asked.

She crossed her hands in her lap. "I know Dreesen was looking for a Heartrender. He's looking for someone to cross the Fold, and he's willing to give a million kruge to anyone who can do it. You're trying to figure out how to get it done."

Kaz suspected she knew more than he would've liked, but hearing how careless people had been with the information was disappointing. He hoped it was confined to the Dime Lions, Madame Goranka, and his own team.

"How did you do it?"

"Find out all your secrets? Your little crows aren't the only ones who hear things."

He gripped the edge of the desk so tight his knuckles turned white. He knew how she found out, but he couldn't blame Jesper for doing what he was told. The man tried to be discreet with his informant, but he couldn't predict that a young orphan boy would be listening in on his conversation. Kaz hoped the woman's carelessness in changing her disguise was enough for prying information out of her.

"No, how did you cross the Fold?"

Adrijana shifted in her seat, and Kaz fought the instinct to show how proud he felt that he'd been correct in his earlier assumptions.

"I didn't."

He reached for his cane and used it to walk around to her side of the desk. "You did. You're Ravkan. East, to be exact."

She scoffed, though she did her best to hide her fear. "Why would you think I'm Ravkan?"

"You don't look like most Suli, and you speak like a Ravkan and hold yourself like you come from money," Kaz explained. "And when you sat down, you pulled the chair closer to you—away from the corner. Ravkans from Balakirev still believe in the old superstitions, like a woman shouldn't sit at the corner of a table if she wants to get married. Should I continue?"

That silenced Adrijana.

She had always been told never to forget her Ravkan roots. When she felt more comfortable in her tailoring, Adrijana planned on changing her more familiar features—her nose and lips, and perhaps she'd change the colour of her eyes. Madame Goranka had been adamant that she was never allowed to do that, claiming that her natural appearance was all she had left of her parents. The way she looked, spoke, and acted were all from her upbringing, and according to the madam, she would be a fool to forget that part of herself.

"What I don't understand is how you did it," Kaz continued.

"I don't have to tell you how I did anything."

"You do if you want Mirre back."

Adrijana stood up from her chair, but Kaz didn't flinch, as though he expected her reaction. "Blackmail? Really? That's low, even by your standards."

"It doesn't have to be. You have something I want, and I have something you want. I don't see why we can't come to some kind of agreement."

"You really are a fucking bastard, Brekker."

He had no reaction to her words, which seemed to make the Grisha deflate. There was nothing she wanted to do more than leave the stuffy little office, but she knew she'd get an earful if she returned to the Zvezda without Mirre. Getting the Heartrender back was one of the only reasons she'd agreed to entertain Kaz in the middle of the night.

Adrijana stared at the man, hoping he'd back down and hand over Mirre without a fight, but he was unwavering. Defeated, she took a step back.

"A sandskiff."

Her voice was quiet, but Kaz had still heard it. She could feel him bristling at her answer, like it wasn't the one he had been hoping for. For a moment, she wished she could have told him whatever he wanted to hear if it meant bringing the Heartrender home.

"Now take me to Mirre."

Kaz straightened his shoulders a bit, as though to compose himself, but it was such a quick action that it was likely he'd hoped she hadn't caught it. He stepped back behind his desk.

"She'll meet you at the Zvezda before the next bell."

She shook her head. "That wasn't the deal."

"The deal was you would get your Heartrender back if you told me how you crossed the Fold. You're lucky I'm sending her before first light."

Adrijana wanted to stomp her foot like a child that wasn't getting their way. She'd heard the Bastard of the Barrel was good at finding loopholes in contracts and deals, but she didn't ever think she'd be on the receiving end.

"You had better make sure she's safe," she said through gritted teeth. It took all of her strength to turn around and head towards the door.

"That sounded like a threat."

She stopped with her hand on the door handle. "It was a promise."

Just one pull, and she could walk out into the Crow Club and head home; but she hesitated. She could feel her heart racing in her chest at the thought of Mirre—her friend, her sister—being escorted back to the Zvezda by a stranger with no one else to keep her safe from harm. If Pekka Rollins knew Kaz was moving the Heartrender, he would surely send his Lions after her.

She barely glanced over her shoulder at the man, who tried to appear busy as he mindlessly signed a bill on his desk. "She'll be safe?"

It was clear he wasn't expecting her to speak up, let alone for her voice to sound softer than the brash, aggressive tone she'd just used with him. Kaz expected a fight, but instead, she was giving him a chance to prove he was more than the brass bull she'd been dealing with.

He nodded. "She will."

Promise?

The question sat on the top of her tongue. When she came to Ketterdam, Madame Goranka told her promises didn't mean anything. Adrijana left all her silly little promises behind in Ravka, and the mistress made sure of that.

"I don't break my promises."

Her eyes widened. That was the last thing she expected to hear from him.

It was like he could sense her hesitation in leaving without a proper answer. When she gave him more of her attention, she thought she'd find him looking back at her. Instead, his hands were still buried in papers.

Adrijana didn't wait for his dismissal to walk out of the office.

It was nearing the next bell, and Mirre was nowhere to be found. Adrijana's chest was bubbling in anger and worry. Maybe she shouldn't have trusted Kaz so quickly.

"If she's not back before the bells ring, I want you to go to the Crow Club and find her," Madame Goranka told Klaus and Egbert. The four of them were all anxiously waiting in the foyer of the Zvezda for the Heartrender's return.

Adrijana peered out the windows, pulling back the drawn velvet curtains to look out onto the dirty Ketterdam streets. There was no sight of her friend's dirty-blonde hair or of a known member of Kaz Brekker's gang escorting her. But from her position, she could see the clock tower, where the hands slowly ticked closer and closer to three bells.

"He's got time," she told Madame Goranka. Klaus and Egbert suddenly looked over at the Grisha, shocked she had spoken up.

The mistress straightened her back, standing poised in the centre of the entryway. She took a few seconds to respond, as though she was worried she might come across angry rather than worried.

"Never trust a man from the Barrel, Adrijana. They're all gutter rats."

Madame Goranka had dealt with gangsters in the Barrel before, and according to her, they were all the same: you were never to trust any of them. Any favours asked were always favours owed, and the mistress always made sure all terms of her deals were met. No one ever said anything about her work—at least not where Adrijana could hear them. Perhaps it was fear of retaliation by the Grisha hiding inside the pleasure house, or maybe it was fear of the woman herself.

Adrijana pulled herself away from the window and gave Madame Goranka her full attention. "She'll be back on time."

"And how can you be so sure?" The mistress asked.

Because he promised, the Grisha thought, but that wasn't a good enough answer. Promises didn't mean anything here.

"I just know."

Madame Goranka looked likely to argue, but she stifled any argument.

Three bells rang outside, and everyone waited for a knock at the door. Adrijana desperately wanted to believed Kaz would keep his word and return Mirre back, but she knew that in a place like Ketterdam, the Kerch girl was always in danger; a Heartrender like her would be valuable at the Bastard of the Barrel's side, and he'd be a fool to let her go so easily.

The mistress turned back to Klaus and Egbert to dismiss them.

"Go now, and leave two men near the Crow Club. If anything so much as whispers, I want to hear about it."

"What do you want us to do if we get caught?" Klaus asked.

"I'm expecting you to," she continued. "If the bastard is smart, he knows I'll be watching him."

Though she was trying to hide it, Adrijana could see the anger in Madame Goranka. Kaz Breker had stolen one of her Grisha—her daughters, her zvezdochkas. There was no chance she was going to let him get away with it.

"She's back!"

All heads turned up from the entryway at the sound of Lottie's voice at the top of the stairs. The two women in the foyer were silenced, and Klaus and Egbert, preparing to grab a few men and head over to the Crow Club, stopped just short of the door.

Lottie appeared seconds later, a large grin on her face. Her cheeks were pink, letting them know she'd run down from the third floor to tell the good news. Unsurprisingly, she was still in her nightgown; none of the girls had gotten any sleep that night as they waited for Mirre to be returned.

Madame Goranka shook her head, though she was already heading towards the stairs with Adrijana hot on her tail. "That's impossible. We would have seen her."

"No, you wouldn't."

Adrijana heard the Heartrender before she saw her. She was still in her walking dress, but she'd discarded her hat. From what she could tell, there wasn't a single hair out of place, every strand still pinned back. She took it as a good sign that nothing untoward had happened to her.

Madame Goranka turned to Adrijana, seemingly in disbelief. Of what, the Grisha didn't know, but if she had to assume, she was shocked that Kaz had kept his word.

Adrijana ran past the woman on the stairs, gripping Mirre's arms once she reached the railing. Her violet eyes carefully looked the blonde over.

"Are you all right? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Mirre tried reassuring the Tailor. "They didn't hurt me. They were actually... quite good company."

"Brekker being nice? That's a new one," Madame Goranka said, finally reaching the top of the stairs and joining the three Grisha near the railing.

She peered over the balcony to the floor below to address Klaus and Egbert. "I still want two men near the Club. Let me know if anything happens."

With curt nods, the two guards left the Zvezda.

"How did you get back?" Adrijana asked.

"The same way I left," Mirre replied. "Through the window."

Madame Goranka looked at Lottie, the Kaelish Healer, still lingering on the balcony. She gave the young woman a warm smile before reaching forward to rest her hand on her shoulder.

"Go tell the girls you should all get some sleep. It's been a long night for all of us."

Adrijana knew why she was dismissing Lottie—they had to figure out why Dreesen needed a Heartrender. But the Healer didn't complain. Instead, she nodded, walked back to the stairs, and disappeared onto the third floor. Adrijana could distantly hear the sound of hushed whispers at Lottie told the others that they'd been told to retire to their rooms for the night.

"How did you get them to bring me back?" Mirre asked. "They'd told me it was better if I lay low because of Mr. Rollins."

"You have Adrijana to thank for that." Madame Goranka was smiling, but both women knew it was only for Mirre's sake. The mistress needed to know what had happened during the Heartrender's absence, and her patience was beginning to wear thin.

Mirre turned towards Adrijana, who gave a small smile.

"I told him we were more than capable of holding our own against someone like Pekka Rollins," the Tailor said.

The blonde smiled and pulled the woman into a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered into her hair. "They might've been kinder than most, but I didn't want to stay in that smelly little room a moment longer."

"Of course," Adrijana replied. "Though I wish I knew they'd put you in a dirty old room. I would've gotten you out much quicker."

"I didn't think they would ever let me out," Mirre shook her head and pulled away from the Tailor. Her face turned worried, eyes solemn. "Not with what I heard."

Adrijana looked to Madame Goranka. She didn't want to hear about what had happened at Dreesen's house so quickly. Finding out the truth meant that it was only a matter of time before she was back at the Crow Club—but putting it off only delayed the inevitable.

"Let's get you some tea, Mirre," Madame Goranka said, her hand on the Heartrender's shoulder as she led the two Grisha to her office. This was not a conversation to be had in public.

While Mirre sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, Adrijana fetched the iron kettle from its place on the rack above the fireplace. As she left to fetch water from the sink behind a nearby curtain, Madame Goranka shut and locked the door.

"Be honest, zvezdochka," the mistress said as she slowly stepped back around to her large chair. "Did they hurt you?"

The blonde rapidly shook her head no.

"No. I thought they might, but... Mr. Brekker said it wasn't his intention," Mirre admitted. "When they got me, there were three of them. A girl with a mask, a tall man who talks far more than anyone I've ever met, and then Mr. Brekker."

"Yes, the Wraith," Madame Goranka clarified as she sat down. "Her name is Inej. Brekker took her from the Menagerie a little while ago as an investment. It was... quite the stir up. The other one is his gunslinger. Fine shot, but he's got a mouth on him."

Adrijana returned to the room and put the kettle back over the fireplace. Hopefully, the water wouldn't take too long to boil.

"What did they want from you, Mirre?" Adrijana asked. She was quick to leave the fireplace and sit beside the Heartrender in the adjacent chair. "What did Dreesen want?"

The woman settled her hands in her lap. Though she was letting her gaze fall between both the Tailor and Madame Goranka, her knees were turned towards her friend as though she was addressing her directly.

"Dreesen brought in someone named Alexei Stepanov," Mirre began explaining. "Two weeks ago, a skiff from East Ravka was swarmed by volcra. They thought it was a total loss, but then Alexei crossed through the Fold: on foot and alone."

Adrijana felt her entire body tense. The Fold was a nasty sea of darkness. It was bad enough she knew that Kaz Brekker and his band of thieves wanted to cross it; but it was another thing entirely for her to hear about someone crossing it.

Madame Goranka scoffed. "That's impossible."

"I thought that, too, but I detected no lies from the boy or Dreesen."

The two Ravkan women shared a glance. If people were crossing through the Fold on foot, without a skiff, something must have happened.

"What did the boy see?" Madame Goranka asked.

Mirre paused for a moment. "You won't believe when I tell you."

"Try me."

The Kerch woman bit her cheek to keep from saying something untoward to the mistress. She hardly believed the boy's words herself, and she'd heard it firsthand.

"He said it was a Sun Summoner."

The kettle's whistle filled the room, making Adrijana jump in her seat. Her violet eyes were wide, and she tried to hide her shaking hands by holding them together.

The Sun Summoner was just a bedtime story her mother used to tell her when she tucked her daughter into bed—just like how Ravkan parents told stories of the Black Heretic of when they misbehaved. Centuries ago, a man born from the shadows themselves created the Fold, and legends said that only a Sun Summoner could heal it. Four hundred years later, there had never been anyone who could lift the curse, and Ravka was forever torn in two.

"Impossible."

"He wasn't lying," Mirre replied to Madame Goranka. "Her name is Alina Starkov. A Shu mapmaker from the boat."

To distract herself from her racing thoughts, Adrijana carefully fetched the kettle from the fireplace with a towel.

"He wants Mr. Brekker to find her and bring her back to Ketterdam."

"That's why he was trying to find a way across the Fold," the mistress muttered to herself.

Adrijana walked back to the desk with a mug and some tea bags. She dropped one into a cup, filled it with water, and handed it off to Mirre. The Heartrender happily accepted the hot drink and took a few sips.

"Where is Alexei now?" Madame Goranka asked.

Mirre seemed to flinch at the question, and Adrijana didn't need to hear it to know what had happened to the Ravkan boy. They'd all seen death before, but it was always just as jarring.

"Dreesen shot him," she admitted. "He said the only people who knew about what happened were in that room."

"And now we know."

Madame Goranka leaned back in her chair. Some of her poise and elegance was replaced by the same posture Adrijana saw some gangsters in the Barrel have: scheming and plotting their next big move.

If Kaz knew that Dreesen didn't want anyone else finding out about the Sun Summoner, why did he let Mirre go? Surely he knew that once she returned to the Zvezda, she would tell her boss what had happened. That the face-changing Tailor would soon find out.

The mistress let her shoulders relax, trying to create a composed front for her girls. She mustered up a smile for Mirre.

"Go wash up and get some rest," she said. "I'll be sure to move your appointments to give you time to recover."

Adrijana saw the relief wash over the girl. She reached forward and grabbed her cup of tea, gave both Ravkan women a nod, and started to retreat out of the room.

"Oh, there's one more thing."

Mirre kept her mug in one hand and reached into a hidden pocket in her skirt. For a moment, the Tailor thought she might pull out a weapon—or some kind of ominous message from Dreesen. Instead, there was another small note in her hand, similar to what was left in the drawer of her vanity: a little piece of parchment with the symbol of the Crow Club drawn on the front in ink.

"When I left, Mr. Brekker told me to make sure I gave this to you."

Adrijana expected her to pass the note along to Madame Goranka. To her surprise, she stopped in front of the Tailor and handed her the note before turning to leave the room.

She flipped it over in her hands. Scribbled on the back in messy handwriting was a small phrase.

'Offer a man your finger, suddenly he craves the whole hand.'

It wasn't signed, but it didn't need to be. It could have only been from Kaz.

"What is it?"

"An old Ravkan saying," she replied.

Adrijana twirled it back around, inspecting the signal of the crow on the front. She ran her thumb over the pressed ink. She didn't want to admit the warmth that blossomed across her skin at the idea of someone remembering her homeland. There weren't many Ravkans in Ketterdam, and none believed in the old ways that Balakirev prided itself on. To have even one person acknowledge it felt... good.

"What does it say?" Madame Goranka asked.

The Grisha didn't dare pass the card to the woman, keeping it clutched in her hands. "It's... like a proverb. 'Offer a man your finger, suddenly he craves your whole hand.'"

The madame's brows furrowed. "I've never heard of it."

She shook her head. "You wouldn't. Most of the old Ravkan sayings were lost through the years, but people from Balakirev still held a lot of the old sayings."

Madame Goranka sat up straighter in her chair, as though recollecting her composure. "What does it mean?"

The Grisha knew far too well what it meant. She heard her father utter it to her mother not long before he died.

"It speaks to a person's greed," she explained, finally looking up at the woman sitting at the desk. "A king gives away a stack of gold to the homeless and suddenly, his people turn greedy, beg for more, and his entire empire comes crashing down. It comes when people ask too much from someone."

Madame Goranka folded her hands together on top of the desk. "And why would Mr. Brekker be sending it to you?"

Adrijana took a deep breath and took a step towards the desk. "Because he's about to ask me to do something he knows I don't want to do."

The woman's brows furrowed. "And what would that be? To cross the Fold?"

She felt her heart lurch in her chest. The thought of the Fold, black and ominous, haunted her nightmares every night.

"To go back home."